Half asleep I hear a high-pitched whistle, what the heck is that annoying noise? I hear someone’s boots splashing the mud toward my makeshift cot.

 “Oye, leventate gringo!” I hear someone run up to me, panting breathlessly over my head, shaking me.

 “Levántate, hay artillería!” 

“Huh?” I roll over to see what is freaking happening. 

“Yah toma,” random junk is thrown on my face. 

“Para, para, que paso!?” I yell freaking out. The whistle grows louder.

 “Oh, crap,” the artillery obliterates the ground around our position. 

I launch out of my sleeping bag and throw clothes and gear onto my body. I grab my canteen, pack, and rifle to be tripped up out of my cote by an artillery shock wave. Splashing in the freezing mud I get up trying to wipe my face as I sprint with all the power I have in my legs. We had prepared our position for artillery and set up a trench right in front of the downhill to the river. I get closer to the trench, trying not to look all around me to witness the insanity, focusing on the trench. I Jump into the trench folding on my ankle. “Fricken crap,” I use my rifle to lift myself up and I hobble over to my position. I travel to the western side of the trench, remembering the drill we ran over and over again, I look for Daniel, my buddy. Everyone is already in their positions so he should be easy to find. All of a sudden the artillery stops, I hobble faster knowing what's about to happen next. 

“Daniel!” I yell in relief. 

“Oye, greengo viene aqi idioto,” I crawl up alongside him, hunkering my head as low as I can but a little bit above my rifle so I’ll be able to shoot los rojo flojos. 

“Cuanto minots a vienen los rojos?” wispered Daniel. 

“Porque a preguntando a mi, solomente pele con los rojos una vez,” 

“Yah pero tu eres un unico que pele con ellos,”

“Even then I didn't really fight them I was more or less running away,” I muttered under my breath not even wanting to try to explain in Spanish.

“Que?” 

“Nada,” I shift my knee into the wall of dirt so there's less weight on my ankle, and I begin to focus on my breathing. Daniel is kind of a demanding guy, not really accepting no for an answer so I was surprised he wasn't persistent with more questions. Our commanding officer checks down the line of his men, I don’t know what he’s doing, maybe checking for missing guys. He truly is an example of a leader who eats last, constantly checking on his men never letting them forget that he is going to lead us to victory. The intense silence of the hills we’re looking at is making me so anxious, I want to go home, I can fight, I’m going to be killed instantaneously. I lift my rifle up and start to climb out of the trench until I get drug back down by someone grabbing my shoulders. I get spun around facing them.

“Adonde vas? No puedes a salir ahora, necesitos a mantener nuestra posicion,” 

“Yah pero no es mi garrera,”

“Es tu garrera, eres chileno americano, Chile es aqui, tu es aqui, y nosotros somos son sus hermanos,” I look around at the other men there looking at me with faces of doubt. I get back to my position and raise my rifle to no man's land.

“Eso greengo,”

I try to smile but I'm terrified we don’t know what’s going to happen next if they will send more artillery, if they are done, or if they'll bring the fight closer. Either way, we will fight them in the end. I hear off in the distance the sound of vehicles, it's definitely them with their dumb dirt bikes. Our commanding officer gets up onto No Mans's Land.

“Mi hermanos eschucha me, ahora mucho a la gente aqui tiene miedo, pero somos pellendo para familia, pais, y libertad. Ellos van a peder este garrera porque estan pelando para energia. Somos a ganar!”

The men roar while I stay silent Daniel roars as well and slaps me on the back. 

“Que paso?” daniel said looking confused.

“I’m scared,” I whisper. I see that Daniel is going to say something but he’s cut off.

“Enfocate mijos, enfocate,” yelled our commanding officer.

Why does Chile have to be at war, the people here are wonderful, why does the government want to go communist again? It's been almost 60 years since that time I hear a faint rumble in the distance. We all look around at each other, I try to hold my vomit in, and I lift my rifle up to be ready for them. I'm the boss, I'm the boss, I'm the boss, I repeat to myself trying to stay calm. Then I see a row of men wearing ponchos riding dirt bikes, charging at us in the very far distance. This is it it’s happening.