Soldiers shadow / over there...
Shelling
& flashes. Should I quicken my steps to pass the nameless grunt I've
been following for ten minutes, or shall I be content searching for air? 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?
Finally his legs have given out, and reluctantly, I've caught up to him. I smile as I pass, a big... shit eating smile. The look on his face and in
his eyes is pure fear, the adrenalin rush of those caught up in trying to
live up to the bragging coming over on the ship. Like deer
caught in a head light, he runs because he doesn't know what else to do.
He runs towards the light because he can't go back to what he left.
Looking back, I often wonder if he saw me, or just the shadow of a deer running past
in the fog? Who can tell? Lucky bastard, his wide eyed, blank stare
could also be a mixture of mom calling
for dinner and Oh shit, and I'm stuck in reality. The hot cup of coffee we
shared twenty minutes ago before our charge started, 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, and running on spit. To his astonishment, I pass and take the lead. The
only thing he's carrying now is his courage and a lieutenant's bar that weighs
half of what it did in his speech to us noncoms back at the sand bags! His
adrenalin's stumbling through the mud behind me.
And just for an instant, as 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. The poor bastard, he's
grinning from ear to ear. I reminded him he wasn't alone....he's almost
giddy...his heartbeat is pounding in his ears, and he can hear John
Wayne....."From the halls of Montezuuuuuuma to the shores of Tripoli....!
Any moment, the 'buck' will dart past me as a member of a far away college
football team.......just as second lieutenants do. Spending to much
time thinking, I stumble and fall and a quick glance tells me he's not there. The choking smoke, fog and dark silhouettes of
ghosts have taken him. I'd like to think, he's so far ahead I'll never catch
him, instead of laying in a hole staring at the hole in his chest. I tell
myself, the mud can't have us today, and pray the screaming figures of men
darting through the fog, have names I know! I keep telling myself, stay with me brother; you're not alone today!
Is it a crime to follow shadows in the fog.......across an open field, I don't know.
I dare not pray
out loud, for death is also blind in the drifting fog, and it's hands will rip
the courage from your lungs. The shrike knows not the name of who it seeks. It meets its
quarry for the first time when it robs him of his breath. I ask myself
again, is it cowardice to follow during an advance....I don't know? Do we dare
hide in the shadows of smoke, or are we the shadows of smoke? Shall
I dart ahead to prove my courage and give the weakness and ripping pain in my
legs another chance to
save me? Will my burning lungs and the smell of gunpowder fling me to the
ground, as before....? I dare not seek exhaustion, yet when it overtakes me, is
it cowardice to think a friend has come to my aid? Dare I greet exhaustion
as a friend when it arrives? Who is the one ahead? Who
is last? Who is it damn it? 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 that damn
staggering shield ahead of me that meets the moment first? Son-of-a-bitch,
someone knew his name when they gave him that rifle! Did he leave his name back in his hole
like the rest of us? Did he decide a name was too heavy
a burden to carry across this field? Did this leader of men simply say
nothing when they took it and gave him 'Sir' in return? 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, a
beer, and the scent of a woman to share this fear with! I'm lying in the mud
talking out loud now. My mind has teased and tricked 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. Am I a betrayer because my mind prays 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 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 we will all 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? What's important is, does the next person
you see speak English! 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! You have told your foe you are coming and maybe, just maybe, he
mistakes you for the "silent one, the invisible one" as his cramped legs keep
him 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