He is going to die, and he knows it. He signed his life away when he put on the green camouflage uniform, now stained with the arc of a blood red circle. It wasn’t his turn to die. He was going to finish college, get married, and grow old with a family of his own, not die on Iraq’s dusty earth. He could feel his strength flowing out of him, and suddenly he remembers his mornings in Sunday school. The hem of his pants always bothering him, but he couldn’t play with them, his mother wouldn’t like that. He had always tried to pay attention to stories like Noah’s Ark, but he had more important things on his mind. He was going to be the president, someone important. He never dreamed it would end this way. Men died in the background, he was unable to move, unable to help. Another ten lives were lost every time he blinked his eyes. He was going to leave soon. Lift away from his body and float towards heaven’s golden gates. Someone hit the ground in front of him. A fellow soldier, a friend. The two lock eyes and smile as they’re bodies go numb.
My fallen comrad
November 16, 2011