We could experience passionate feelings for… on the other hand I could slaughter you.
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A Soldiers Tale
It's 3am here.. The air is dry and stifling. I am wondering what you and dad are doing? Let's see it's 11pm there, guess you are watching the news.
I imagine you watch every time it comes on, don't do that mom, if something happens, they will let you know, bad news travels fast, that's what they say.
We went on patrol today, we checked out the perimeter of town. People were sitting around, children played in the dusty street. Some of the guys handed candy to the children and let them touch their weapons.
Mom, I don't hand out candy, I don't speak to any of the people, I look in some of their eyes and I see hatred. I don't understand this. Why do they hate us, did they like living under a tyrant?
The other day a kid, I know he couldn't have been more than thirteen, threw himself in front of our APC.. He had a back pack, it was loaded with explosives, fate was on our side, he hadn't wired it properly. When we patrol, I keep my hand on my gun at all times. I can't realize it in my heart to feel pity or anything for them, I know you raised me better but, mom, they look for any way they can to kill us.
When I join in the military, I thought I would be helping, I imagined people loving me, I thought we would come in eradicate the enemy but, it hasn't turned out that way at all. Nothing is clear, every line is blurred. I don't know anymore.. I just don't know..
Well, I'm going to try to sleep, I miss and love you all..
So Many Miserable Days
The heat and dust made for a miserable day. The uniform, the boots, the rations, the weapons, made for a miserable day. The incoming, the patrols, the bombings, made for a miserable day.
Alone because, he didn't truly fit in, his family miles away, made for a miserable day.
Even more than these things, the people, miserable, wretched, deceitful and dangerous, made the days and nights miserable, made him feel things he never felt before, made him hate like he had never hated before.
No one had noticed, the tick that had developed along his jaw. They didn't pay attention cause if they had, they would have noticed the way he became more and more isolated, cradling and talking to his weapon, the way his eyes looked, wild and, how, he didn't sleep.
He had endured many miserable days.
This miserable day. he went out on patrol, people passed him and he jerked his weapon towards them. His sarge, glared at him for a moment but, he didn't have time to take full stock, someone shouted out something about a terrorist.. One of the wretches pointed out one of the buildings about a block down the narrow street.
He glanced in through the window, there at the table sat 4 people.. a man, a woman and two young children. They tried to pretend they were eating. There were a few cups and plates set.. they didn't fool him. When he entered, the man stood and raised his hands, he gibbered something in that horrible language, the language he hated.. The man moved forward, picked up a cup and offered it to him. The rest of the family sat quiet, staring down at the table.
His C.O. led him gently by the arm, the cuffs were tight but , he didn't mind. They had began whispering, the man tried to make him drink the poison.. the others kept whispering.. He knew they conspired to kill him.. he didn't give them the chance, he cocked his weapon, he smiled, he fired.. He did what he had to do..
Now he sat and looked out the barred window, He stared across the dry dusty earth, he watched as little dust devils swirled and played. It was cool within the confines of the cell, and he was able to think, he thought about his family.. He continued to rip lengths of cloth off the loose shirt he'd been wearing. Tying the ends together, he stood on the chair the interrogator had sat on. He tied the other end around the overhead pipe, he made a slipknot.. slid it over his head, and said a silent goodbye....
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