I look into the night my rifle in hand, blood seeping through the very soles of my boots. It has been two weeks since I have meet up with my old unit. For days I haven’t eaten or slept. The sounds of many men dying and the shells bursting through the air. I wish to see my loving family again when this will be I have no idea. I stare at the bare grounds of rocks and plain s that stand before me. I have seen and done things no mortal man should see or do. My hands are stained permantly, I have tried washing and scrubbing the blood that I see on my hands away, but I cannot get this image of the men’s faces of pure terror and pain out of my mind. There is just too much to see and say about what I have done from orders from above in higher command.
I stare at my hands from this rock I have laid to rest on, the hopes and dreams from a seemingly past life I have left behind at home. My mother so proud of me when I left to fight the war, make a man out of me she said. Become the one true leader of this poor deprived family. The man my father never was, leaving me to be the man of the house after he walked out on us. I look into the mirror and see his face. Am I like him? I am here to clean the mess of the fallen politics and ideals of the leaders of the nations. And even now I look and see the reoccurring face of my father. Cold, ruthless and the true killer of his kind. The wind blows to the east and my only knowledge of where I am is what I can see. I look onward to the village all the children playing, mothers making food for the families while the fathers are hard at work providing whatever they can to keep the houses battered and shattered standing. Theses are the reasons I fight. I want to leave this land with the feeling of knowing that families like this are ok.
The sound of gunfire scatters the people down below. I look around trying to find the source of the fire. And when I look the north of the river I see my old unit. Shockingly I see my old commander still alive and ordering the gunner to fire on the town below. I run to the unit yelling and screaming for them to stop firing to clear up the mess that they have created. I am running the commander sees me and the sense of opportunities has arisen for him to finally get rid of the one true believer. He yells to aim at the moving target to the south. Gunner locks and loads not knowing his best friend is the target. The commander gives the order to fire. As the gunner pulls the trigger he lets loose the screams of a thousand angels letting free and burying the truth along with Sgt.