The War Within
The shots rang out loud in the jungle and another soldier had fallen. Death had surrounded us as we continued to do battle in this uncompromising war. We stepped over bodies left and right as our elite unit maneuvered over the rough terrain that was filled with burned out dilapidated structures, to position ourselves for the next strike. We had seen so many soldiers meet their fate that it had become commonplace and our hearts had become cold and unsympathetic. We didn’t care about the souls of these men or any extension of them. Why should we, they were just casualties of war. Besides, I have never killed a man without reason.
As I scan the area for the enemy, my trained eye locates the opposition about one hundred yards across the battlefield, atop a large concrete structure. To my surprise, he seemed to have his eye locked on my exact position. As we sit still like the pieces of a well orchestrated chess match, the gunfire that once exploded in the air with great magnitude seemed to have dissipated. It was just he and I, man to man, soldier to soldier, trying to anticipate the thoughts of the other. The tension became suffocating and my heart began to race with uncontrollable anxiousness. I could hear a faint voice coming through my radio but could not understand the muffled words because the silence grew emphatic. It must be someone in my brigade, because the voice was familiar and I had heard it many times before in other situations like this. My concentration upon the hostile opponent made me unwilling to respond or listen any deeper.
My mind became restless and began to wander through the past. I see my mom in the kitchen cooking a wonderful Sunday dinner, my dad watching an old western on television, telling my younger brother that the hero of the movie was him as he fought against the Indians to save his battalion. My dad was only about thirty at the time and this movie was obviously much older than that! I see my older brother an I outside tossing around a baseball, he was the pitcher and I was the catcher. These thoughts appeared to last forever but in reality they were gone in an instance.
My focus is back to the battlefield and I have a clear shot at the enemy but did not take it, because he could have done the same while my mind wandered, but he restrained from firing. At that moment I could hear another faint voice on my radio that grew stronger, saying “fall back there is no reason to engage! I repeat, fall back there is no reason to engage!” But still, I did not adhere to the order. I was standing strong in defense of my territory. It was then that the opposing soldier must have gotten a much different order, and that order being to engage! Gunfire erupted from the barrel of his high powered automatic weapon, buzzing by me like a colony of Africanized killer bees protecting their queen! The barrage of ammunition caused me to take evasive action, dropping my weapon and taking cover! I now had a reason to engage. I reached for my hand gun that is tucked away in a holster located at my ankle. I make my move, descending upon his location, firing several rounds, appearing to strike him with laser like precision. He has fallen. I could then hear that voice again but it was very clear and commanding by now, stressing overwhelming discontent for my actions. ”You went against a direct order soldier and there will be Hell to pay!” Once again, I ignored the voice. I make my way to my enemy’s position with painstaking carefulness. I stand over the body that lay in the pools of it’s own blood, with my smoking revolver still drawn. I told myself that it was for just cause and reason that I had taken this life, yet I still had not convinced myself. Although there was still doubt in my mind, my ego told me that I had done well for protecting my territory against this enemy.
I began to lift and turn the cold lifeless corpse that I had just taken out. As the identity of the enemy became clear, my eyes swelled and my throat became dry and gritty as if I had swallowed a hand full of dirt and gravel from the battlefield. My chest encountered a sharp pain, as if I had been stabbed with a well sharpened bayonet. My heart seems to have stopped. No, I had not been stabbed physically, but I had just engulfed the death upon my brothers face.
It was then that I picked up my radio to contact the person who had given the order to fall back, and I asked “who was it that gave me the order and how did you know? The answer…” The order came above and was delivered through your heart and soul. I then asked, “why did you let me take the life of my own brother? The reply… ”Any other person would not have made you recognize the ramifications of this senseless violence and the effect that it has on a family.”
Young Men, Please Stop The Violence Because We Are All Brothers In Gods Eyes!
-D.M. (Devan Martinez)
