support, double and triple checking my maps and calculations. The telltale sound of the A-10 drones in the background and despite all my training, my stomach drops at the devastation it’s about to wreak.
I don’t focus on the loss of life or the casualties. I do my job.
Later that night as I rest on my cot, still fully clothed all the way down to my boots, the ramifications of what I’ve done weigh heavy on my mind. When I joined the military, it was about being a part of something bigger than me. Fighting for my country. Doing the right thing.
As I fall into a fitful sleep, I can only wonder if I still am.
I wake to chaos. My teammates are arguing loudly outside of the tent. I jump from the cot and head outside to find dozens of wounded and as many dead being loaded into the massive Chinook a field away. I can hear the buzz of several helos in the distance.
“What happened?” I ask my team leader.
“Ambushed. I need every man we’ve got. We’re going back out.”
I ready my gear and watch from a distance as the Chinook lifts and flies away. I follow the team to the trucks and we head out.
We don’t make it a mile outside the gate before the first truck in the line explodes in a belch of fire and black smoke. My ears pop from what must be a concussive rocket, which are a bitch to be around as they hit, explode, implode and then explode all the fuck over again. The truck is blown off the road and onto the shoulder, flipping twice before landing belly up. My ears pop from the resulting change in pressure.
Those of us in the following vehicles bail out, guns at the ready and eyes on the horizon. A group of us makes it to the heaping mass of metal and flames. I can hear the high-pitched screams from the men inside and my adrenaline shoots off the charts. I go to the other side, where the frame hasn’t collapsed and see Greene pinned with one leg under a thick piece of metal.
One of the other guys covers my back as I drop to my haunches to leverage the weight off of his pinned limb. The blast or the pain has knocked him unconscious—which is no doubt a good thing, considering the shape of his limb. I block that out and manage to get some breathing room.
“Hey, grab him,” I tell the guy behind me as I reach with my free hand to unbuckle the lap belt. The guy reaches up and manages to catch Greene as he falls. Even though he’s passed out his body jerks and his face contorts in pain.
I experience a rush of relief, my body going hot and cold with it, as we pull him free of the truck. I back up, lifting his limp body in my arms. The other guy brings his weapon up for cover, but it doesn’t matter.
The second RPG hits the convoy, but this time, it doesn’t just flip over one of the trucks. It explodes with deadly force. I’m thrown back against the first downed truck, my head striking against the metal. I manage to hold onto Greene by sheer will alone and we both crumple.
I glance up, my vision going dark, and the last image I see is a fiery inferno where my team used to be. There is barely anything left of the men I’ve spent the last few years with. What I can see, I wish I hadn’t.
As I lose consciousness myself, my last thought is that I don’t hear the other men inside the truck screaming anymore.
I hear the faint echo of a scream and my entire body jerks on the bed. The T.V. show I’d been attempting to watch mocks me from across the room. I glare at it ineffectively. Even though I can only hear a ghost of the sound, the sound of screams still sends a chill right through me. They remind me too much of the nightmares I can’t shake. I look around for a remote and then remember the room I’m in doesn’t even have one so I can’t chuck it at the screen.
I press the button for the nurse and throw myself back on the bed, grunting as the pain in my head makes itself known. Not that it’s dwindled any in the two days since I regained consciousness in a German hospital.
It’s not