Bombs exploding overhead. The defining blare of gunshots surrounding me. Feelings of complete chaos. I can’t think. I can’t move. I can’t feel. Nothing seems real anymore. Am I awake or have I found myself in some kind of vivid dream, waiting to be awoken safely back home. I can hear the shrill screams of fellow soldiers floating through the open air, coming from all sides of this little hole in which I have taken refuge. God, please let this be a fucking dream.
My body has still not gotten used to this horrid climate. With an increase in humidity, comes an increase in asthma; which I never realized I had till I was dropped off into this god-forsaken piece-of-shit country. Breathing, of all things, has now become something more of a chore. Just Stay calm, take deep breaths. You’re going to be fine. This will all be over soon.
We had years of training for this moment. We learned about the basics of combat, of survival, of following orders. We were taught how to dress and act like the perfect soldier. We had spent so much time learning how to properly fix, clean, build, and shoot our M16A2s, that by the end of our training, we knew our weapons better then the backs of our own hands.
We were taught about loyalty, duty, respect. We were taught about honor. We were taught that we were heroes, fighting for the freedoms of our families, our friends, and our neighbors. We were made to believe that what we were doing was right, that we were saving the future for the generations to come after us.
Now here I am, at the moment we had spent so long preparing for, on my hands and knees praying to god for my life to be spared. Am I being a coward? A bad soldier? Am I letting my country down, hiding like a little bitch, from this constant threat of pain? Of Death? They told us fear was a natural reaction for when the brain perceives a threat. All we have to do is focus on our duty, and that fear will just sink back to the depths of our mind. Focus on the mission at hand. Try and ignore the fact you have fellow soldiers on each side, unloading round after round of 5.56 millimeter lead bullets into the flesh and bone of complete strangers. Try and ignore the screams of your close friend being burned alive somewhere behind you. And especially, ignore the fact that there is a very good chance you may be the one screaming next.
All my life I had strived to be the best. Everything I did, I did to the best of my ability. I was going places, and those who knew me would say the same. I achieved high marks in school, and was an exceptionally good athlete. I could have gotten into any university I wanted and I was planning on it to, if I had never received that letter in the mail. The letter that informed me that I was called up for service. That I had won the shittiest lottery in the history of mankind. So there it was, my future had been decided for me.
“School? Sports? Ha, put that shit on hold mister, your fucking country needs you.”
To be honest with you, I was actually exited at the time about the whole thing. I like the idea of being a hero. I was proud to be helping out my country, and was looking forward to the respect and honor that comes of being a soldier. My excitement stayed with me all through training too. The closer we got to being shipped off, the more exhilarated I became. I was pumped to do my duty. On graduation day, I felt like a genuine soldier, ready for war.
But I wasn’t ready for the true nature of war. It would be impossible for anyone to be ready for this. The planes dropping bombs, the constant blasting of m67 fragmentation grenades, the loud resonance of M16s firing though the trees. And above all, the blood curdling screams that hang dead in the open air. No one would be ready for this. I know this now, hiding away in my hole, from the reality of the situation before me. I am not ready to die. I had dreams. I wanted to finish school, become an architect. Have a family, with kids. Live young and die old. Please god, if you’re out there, spare me.
And then it came. Dead Silence. No more planes, no more shots, no more screams. There was not even the sound of the wind blowing though the trees. The only sound floating through the air seemed to be the sound of my own breaths, which seemed to echo throughout the woods. When there is nothing but silence even the slightest noise is perceived as a defining blare.
Could it be over? Am I saved? I finally build up enough courage to peak out of my hole of refuge, and witness firsthand the devastation this battle had caused. Scattered about the forest floor, hundreds of dead soldiers lay motionless and torn. The smell of burnt flesh filling the air.
I feel anger start to build up inside of me. Yeah you fucking needed me alright. Another pawn in your fucking game of corruption. Another piece of flesh to send in to fight for your quest of control. To die for your battles, while you just sit on the sidelines watching. Whatever the cause of the war, is it really worth it. The deaths of hundreds of innocent people. People with dreams, with families, friends. Whatever happened to the sanctity of life?
I stand up and start to wonder though the field of tattered human flesh. Staring at the dead bodies of men that I had the pleasure of training with. Some Men who I have grown close to over the years. Men who have introduced me to their families. That has invited me into their homes for meals. These men that deserve more than just a bullet to the head and the title of hero.
I fall to my hands and knees in frustration. This is all too much to take in. the asthma starts to kick back in. Calm down, take deep breaths, everything is going to be alright.
Then, I feel the cold steel barrel of a smith and Wesson compact size 9mm handgun pressed against the back of my skull. I hear a loud bang. Then, darkness.