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No one knew they were coming. No one even knew they were there until the first shots were fired. They came, hidden like thieves, up the hill behind our encampment, one by one silently, their feet barely whispering across the grass. I sat with my buddies Rick, Marco, and Henry around a blazing fire just shooting the breeze. Their faces reflected a soft orange glow from the fire, lighting up their smiles. That’s when we heard.

Ticka-ticka-ticka. Bam! Bam! Bam! Instant, terrifying. Me and my buddies were up fast, smiles swiped from our faces, running and yelling with the rest of the boys to where we heard the fires. The enemy flooded us like an ocean, screaming their dog language.

People were running out of their tents, gun in hand. Me and my buddies threw ourselves into the action. I raised my gun and fired. My bullet flew as true as my country, sinking itself deep into a b*****d’s neck. Chaos swarmed around us and my comrades were shot down one by one, smoke rising and filling the air from our rifles. Soon we were all covered in soot and blood, both sides holding their own. An explosion erupted in front of me and I screamed as my uniform caught on fire. Marco was beside me in an instant.

“James!” He shouted slapping my body wildly to put out the flames. I screamed, charred flesh hanging from the bone of my arm. We all expected casualties, but no amount of debriefing, nothing I have ever felt or seen could have prepared me for this. Lights flashed in front of my eyes. I felt firm hands grab my legs and my shoulders and my sense of balance was completely thrown off as I was being carried off the battle field. My screams melted into the deafening booms of the cannon fire and quick rapports of the guns.

“James! James! I’m getting you oughta here, alright! It’s just you and me now, we’re gonna make it!” He yelled rasping. I felt another pain, deeper in my chest. My friends were dead. Hope seemed farther away. Despair. Another explosion and I flew through the air. My left side landed in the grass and all I knew was pain. I screamed for what felt like hours. I opened my eyes to flashes of black, white, green, and orange. My gaze found Marco and with the will of God I dragged myself over to him. I wished more than anything that I hadn’t. A sob escaped me, shaking my whole body down to my soul. Weakly I raised two fingers and closed his open, hollow eyes. I looked around, bodies littered the camp. I could hear the battle going on half a mile in front of me. I laid like the dead in the grass, hoping for nothing more than peace. For my soul, my friends, and my country. I drifted, slowly, deeper into the grass, my vision losing all solidarity. I couldn’t even feel the pain now, I thought distantly. Then I slept.


“James, baby, you were calling out in your sleep again.” My wife Eleanor touched my face gently.

“I’m okay now Eleanor. Really. Just an old nightmare.” I swallowed hard and took a few deep breaths. She settled back into my side, content with my answer. Her soft dozes quieted my sprinting heart, but it could not erase the faces the dead. Quietly in the night, I wept.