Soldiers shadow
Story:
Shelling & flashes. Should I quicken my
steps to pass my shield, the nameless grunt I've been following for ten minutes,
or shall I be content as a number on the schedule of death?
Does the person running ahead of me care he's alone?
Does he know the rest of us can do nothing to stop the fear, we can only take his place?
As we run across this muddy field strewn with bodies; does he know the
odds of getting shot, does he care?
Does he know he's denying my death?
His legs have finally given out, and reluctantly, I've
caught up to him. I'll give him a smile as I pass, a big... shit eating
smile.
The look on his face and in his eyes is pure
fear. Does he see me, or just a blur
running past? Who can tell? Lucky bastard, his wide eyed, blank stare is
a mixture of mom calling for dinner and Oh shit, and I'm stuck in this
hellish reality. The hot cup of coffee we shared twenty minutes ago before our charge had
already run down his leg. I could smell it
on the way up; not that he could
tell, he's soaked like the rest of us. He’s
running on spit. To his
astonishment, I pass and take the lead. The
only thing he's carrying now is his courage, and it's half of what was in his speech
to the rest of us twenty minutes ago! His adrenalin's
stumbling through the mud next to me. Just
for an instant, I look back, we're both consumed in camaraderie, we
are one as we run together. He just needed to be second for a little
while.
He's grinning now, from ear to ear...I reminded him he wasn't alone....he's
almost giddy...his heartbeat is pounding in his ears. Any moment, the poor
bastard
will dart past me as a member of a far away college football team.......just as second lieutenants do.
I stumble
and fall, a quick glance and he's not there, the choking smoke and the ghosts of
the moment have taken him.
I'd like to think, he's so far ahead I'll never catch him, instead
of laying in a hole.
The mud can't have us today!
I pray the dark silhouettes coming up fast behind
me are names I know....I can't make them out. I keep telling myself, stay
with me brother; you're not alone today! Is
it a crime to follow shadows across an open field....I don't know.
I pray not, for death is blind in the drifting fog, and it's hands are
ripping the courage from our lungs. It knows not the name of who it seeks.
It meets its quarry for the first time when it robs him of his breath.
Is it cowardice to follow during an advance....I don't know.
Do we dare hide in the shadows of the smoke?
Shall I dart ahead to prove my courage or will the weakness in my legs
save me again? Will my burning lungs and
the smell of gunpowder fling me to the ground? Who is the one ahead?
Who is last? Don’t they
both share this stage?
My panting does little to muffle the screams in the darkness; this must
be real, who rehearses death in a dream while ear drums pound with each breath?
Who is it that rehearses screams of pain and terror in the darkness?
Who is the staggering shield ahead of me that meets the moment first?
He must have a name. Or is a
name too heavy a burden to carry across this field? Did
we all leave our memories on the boat?
When you're shot, the first thing they ask is your name, who gives a
shit? We're all saints waiting our
turn. Fuck my name; give me
some B-B-Q ribs and a beer to share with this fear!
I'm lying in the mud talking out loud now.
My
mind has teased me into calmness and put me back in the fields of my dad’s
farm as the cramping in my legs
cripple me one more time. My mind races as I pray the wrenching pain continues so I have an excuse not to
rise up again and be
first across this field. One of the
shadows moving past me in the fog is surely that six point buck back on
the farm....can it be? It’s true deer must also
know the horror of this race, for they too run blindly for their
lives in the fog. I must get up and
join my fellow killers, for this day we have a common goal.
Today's success is crossing the
field alive, screw the enemy! Aren't
we all tied together? Perhaps my
savior is not the shadow running ahead of me, aren't my week legs the real heroes? If not for the cramps would
I still be alive? I hear shooting ahead in the darkness and flashes
of light; I’m sure I will find ‘courage and fear’ amidst the horror of it.
We’ve all heard tales of the “silent one, the invisible one”
roaming the dark, fog laden battle fields at night and early morning.
They say he arrives just as the bitter cold finds your bones and sleep
deprivation whispers, ‘traitor’ in your ear.
They say he seeks out those who give up, those who aren't guarding
anything, much less those superior morals you had in boot camp. Of
importance now is where the shit's buried, and who is that mumbling and whispering to
someone named Doris? When the
'invisible one' finds you, call out your greeting loud and clear so everyone who is staring at the piss in their hole can revel in
your excitement! Make a commotion as if a
dear friend has come to dine! If you
must, use words that would singe your mothers ears; and above all, do it
with style. Introduce all your
comrades to your new friend ‘courage’ for he has looked a long time for you, and
to find you in this hell hole is truly a miracle.
Yell with all your lungs and this
instant rejoice, for we are to advance again and the enemy has keen ears and is
staring at the piss in his hole! Know today is your lucky day, for courage
has found you, and it's your turn to be the first across the field. RJ