*READ AT YOUR OWN RISK*
I was looking around for safety in this dead land, desperately moving. I was trying to part the artillery crater that disabled both of my legs. Every time I grabbed the moist dirt to climb out of it, thoughts encircled my brain. Thoughts of my side winning the battle, thoughts of restoring freedom and justice to the oppressed people of this land, thoughts of my loved ones.
I finally reached the top of the crater after exhausting my strength. The thoughts the dominated my mind were the reason I am still alive. The place was a hell. I cannot believe that it was once a beautiful place. The sun’s illumination was blocked by thick and dark clouds that brought with them a thick layer of fog. It was cold, the drizzle made it worse. Every time an exposed part of my body came in contact with the drizzle, I felt a paralyzing pain, it felt like many knifes assaulting my already diminished body. The place had a stench that poisoned my brain. It made me stuck with those patriotic thoughts, thinking that I was a hero for killing people.
I scanned the place a little, I wanted to know if the deafening silence was a reality. I was wondering if there was any fighting going on, wondering weather will I find a safe place to take cover till my division arrives or not. Then I looked at my injury, and I wish that I have not. Both of my thighs attached to my body with thin pieces of flesh. I suddenly realized the pain, I panicked. My heart started pumping faster, I had to treat my injuries first so I can stop panicking. There was a rifle nearby that had a bayonet still attached to it. I knew that leaving my legs attached will make my search for cover harder. I crawled with all the strength I had, it felt like I was walking on a spiky trail, all of these unearthed small and dry roots poking at my deep injury; it was the true meaning of a thousand knifes stabbing your brain one at a time, slowly. Then, I reached the rifle. It felt like a small triumph.
The war taught all of my colleagues that a triumph does not last. That was the case with my struggle. Shortly after I grabbed the rifle, a shell landed close to where I was. It sent me flying ahead towards the middle of the battlefield. One of my ribs broke in the process and I lost hearing in my right ear. I had to work quickly, I had to go back to one of those craters to take cover. So I detached the bayonet, my hands were shaking. I was nervous, but it was this or death. I put the blade against the thin flesh, then I pulled as hard as I can! I screamed at the top of my lungs! The pain was of such magnitude that made me feel like blacking out. But it was not over yet. There was still flesh. I was crying from the pain, I had to do it again.
After I finished cutting my legs, I cut my thick olive green sleeves to band aid my injury. Then I used what was left of my strength to crawl to the same crater. I crawled over the dead and deformed bodies of the soldiers, ones missing limbs, and others with major trauma. The place must have smelled extremely bad with all of these decaying corpses. All I could see at that time was the crater, far, far away. I do not remember what happened when I was in the middle of the way to the crater. But when I fell in it, I felt a huge sense of relief. All I had to do was wait.
The seconds felt like hours, taunting me every time they passed. I kept my self-contained by remembering my past. My family, friends, childhood. All the good things in life that happened to me. But then I remembered the people of this land, most of them didn’t experience the “good” life. Or did they?
At that instant of time my way of thinking completely changed. I don’t remember hearing about any oppression before this damned war. I thought that I was bringing peace and freedom to this land! Our motto was “peace, freedom, human rights” and we chanted it to the bone, we were ready to die for it! We thought Our life style was right and everyone must subject to it! We thought of everyone that disagreed with us was against us!
And many died for this fake cause. We were brainwashed into believing that our lifestyle was the only one that is acceptable, the only one that should be enforced! I don’t remember hearing about these people experiencing oppression before, not by anyone, even their leaders. We were the ones that put their leaders in place! We were the pawns of the man with the big bucks.
I was so angry at that time that I punched the dirt. I was screaming in anger, I cussed those corrupted leaders, I cussed those traitors of peace, and I cussed myself for being one of those involved in this mess. And this how the rescue squad found me.
I received many medals of honor, but for what? What will these medals do for my loss? I have become a symbol of patriotism, I am not proud of it. I wish people would understand that patriotism is like infatuation, its blind, it just does not work.
I think the world would have been a better place had humans not known how to fight each other.