Just Another Day

It looks like he hasn’t shaved in a week. His growing beard seems a bit askew. Maybe he attempted to shave and got interrupted. Anyway, he seems to be enjoying sipping out of that flask. I would guess it’s not orange juice in there. His hair is getting quite long. He could use a good haircut. I wonder if he’s had a good meal lately? He looks a bit gaunt and worn. His eyes seem sad as he scans his surroundings. 

I noticed he was rocking a bit while seated. I wonder if he’s bored or nervous. The quick scanning of his eyes suggests the second option. His right pants leg is ripped up to the knee. I think I see a bandage of some sort just below the knee. He appears to have a few red stains on it. I think it must have been a recent injury. 

I suspect he is about 18 or so. I see a few teenage pimples and his skin appears to be very smooth. I wonder if he has a girlfriend. He would be good looking if he was cleaned up a bit. He looks to be a pretty big guy. He’s in good shape. I bet he played sports in high school. He has the build of a wrestler. He likely lives with his parents at this age. I wonder where he lives. He probably has some pictures of his family and his girlfriend in his wallet. 

He’s staring down at his helmet. It probably is hot and uncomfortable to wear. So he’s enjoying some fresh air. I shake my head a bit as I ponder his last seconds of life. As he sits on the hatch of the tank he is completely unaware that this will be the last sip of vodka, his last thought of his girlfriend and his last few breaths. 

The soft whistle in the woods brought me to my knees. I put the binoculars down and raised the Javelin to my shoulder. In 5 seconds it will be over again. A second soft whistle and the woods exploded with seven Javelin rockets. I watched as they launched in slow motion, arching upwards then plummeting onto the seven tanks stretched out in a column in the woods. I looked slightly away to avoid the visual blast. There were no screams. It was all over in a few seconds. 

Walking up to the scene with my rifle ready I spotted him. His clothes and body were smoldering. He had been thrown about 10 meters from the tank. He may have dragged himself while on fire a couple of meters given the trail of blood and the entrails behind him. He did have his wallet in his hand. I wonder if he got to see any of his pictures during his last few seconds of life. 

Our patrol quickly left the scene. In a minute we were in the truck and pulling out of the woods giving each other high fives and breathing heavily. It looks like we have escaped detection and we will live to fight another day. We’ll load up the truck tonight and head out again in the early dawn. The drone footage has picked our next target. It’s odd how you get into a routine, even one of life and death. Just another day. 

As we rolled out for our next mission, I wonder if I will ever be the same. I used to be sad to see anyone injured or distressed. I used to offer people help when I saw someone in need. I used to worry about getting cut or bruised while working in the fields. I used to sing songs in my head to pass the time and ease my mind. I used to think of happy and fun things to do with my weekends. None of that now. I have become a killing machine. I know it’s necessary and I will do this to save my family and my country. But there is a cost. One I know I must pay. I can’t go back. I can not be saved.

As sunset approaches I wander through the empty streets. The smell of decay and death is everywhere. Every structure is damaged and abandoned except for the few patrols stationed here. Even the birds have fled. I spot a puppy scrounging in a tipped over garbage can. I could put him out of his misery. My sights are on him. It would be quick. Just as I am about to pull the trigger he turned and looked right at me. Our eyes met and the world stopped for several seconds. 

Later at camp I was mocked for my actions. How could I bother rescuing a useless puppy. I clung to the little dog wrapped in a towel and held him to my chest. I could feel his warmth and his beating heart. For a short moment I wondered if it might be possible to go back. A tear rolled down from one eye.