A blot of light, seeped into my eyes and piercingly lit my vision up with a white glow. A faint crack, in just a couple of weeks, had morphed into a small aperture. It was positioned above Jeffrey’s bunk bed but at exactly 30 minutes before 0600 hours, the earliest ray of morning sunshine would beam right through the aperture and straight into my face. At first, I considered it an annoyance but over time, I began to see it as a boon. It woke me up earlier than my waking hours before my rotation and gave me more time to get a head start on my daily ablutions. Dad would definitely approve.
CUKDODOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! our illustrious hen would pronounce early in the morning, back when I was a kid.
Dad! Its screaming again!
“Well whadya know, those chicks did come in handy.”
“BUT-“
“No buts kiddo, it gets you up early and on to the days’ tasks. Remember, the first tenet of the motto righteous men follow?”
I would sigh and relent to the answer he had always wanted
“Discipline, Honor & Courage. For God & Country.”
“Atta boy.”
Discipline, Honor & Courage. For God & Country. Yes, of course. I immediately shuffled myself to the washroom. Half asleep, I approached the sink and spotted a standard issue military grooming kit, situated exactly 30 centimeters away from the nozzle. Ripping it open, I cleaned my face, shaved, rinsed it again and took a scant look at my face in the mirror. A few creases around the eyebrows and mouth. I had hoped it was just my skin’s temporary reaction to the local climate but I guess it was just age catching up. Still, I hadn’t even hit 30 yet. Hmph, it would seem that the righteous path was fraught with perils that would take a toll on even the best of men. Discipline, Honor & Courage. For God & Country.
Cleaned and dressed up, I ambled back to my bunk bed. On the side table, I had laid out a round loaf of a Danish sweet bread. The barrack’s fridge had broken down so I had to keep it on a plate on my side table. I had hoped the bread would be fine at room temperature but every now and then I spotted a cluster of ants mantling towards it. An angel was watching over me it would seem because I would always spot the ants before they reached the Danish. Still, need to do something about those ants or fix the damn fridge. I was trying my best to savor the bread. This one tasted pretty close to what Mom made them like but…not quite right though. It was growing sour.
“Don’t worry Angie, I’ll raise our boy right. He’ll grow up to be a warrior and fight for the little guy. A knight in shining armor!” Dad always had a flair for histrionics when he was uncomfortable. And why wouldn’t he be? His wife was lying in a hospital bed with tubes aggressively shoved in her mouth. The doctors said that she had mere days left so better to say our goodbyes. When Dad made his grand proclamations about how he was going to watch over his son, Mom cracked a belabored smile but I swear I saw a faint glint of a tear in her eye. Maybe what Dad said made her sad or of course it could also be the tubes, the cancer, the pain or the impending doom of death. It didn’t matter, she is long dead now. So why the hell do I still have an obsession with her Danish?
A faint echo of chatter began to get more pronounced towards the entrance of the barracks.
“…but I can install the 4x scope on my M-4. Can the Scar have that?” Jeffrey as usual was involved in an impassioned debate about the merits of guns and warcraft. His fellow conversationalist was an equally enlightened fellow named Rob, a loan over from the 8th Platoon. It was rather fascinating to watch two middle school drop outs talk with such enthusiasm about tools used to kill people. So much for Discipline, Honor & Courage.
“Heyyy, skip’s already up.” Once again, as usual, Jeffrey greets me with a toothy grin.
“Patrol starts at 0900 hours, get geared up Jeff. And you too Rob.” Being Delta squad’s leader, I had to be ever the authoritarian with soldiers under my command. It wouldn’t really hurt to develop a more friendly rapport with my charges but then again, I never really liked these assholes, especially Rob. Jeff was slightly stunned but regained his composure immediately and responded with an affirmative “Sir, yes sir!” however, Rob was a little more sluggish in his response. Little runt.
Glaring at Rob, I traced my stare to Jeff and said “I’m going to report to Major Lucian. He mentioned he wanted to discuss a change in our shift and-“
“Sir!” Rob’s previously somnambulant expression immediately sprung up into attention. I looked behind me and there he was: Major Lucian in all his ascetic glory.
Emulating my squad, I too sprung up into attention and just as a I began to address him, he waved us down. “You two get out.” He motioned to Rob and Jeff. The Major was never one for protocol.
After Rob and Jeff shuffled out, he motioned me to sit on my bunk bed while he sat on the opposing one. “Well son, like I said before, your routine patrol is not so routine anymore. We have info on highly ranked hostile situated 40 clicks from the village you surveyed on your last patrol.” He pulled out one of those Cuban cigars from his left pocket and shifted his left foot on top of his right knee. Lighting a match from the heel of his boot, he lit his cigar and drew a long draught. The billowing smoke emanating from his mouth gave him a sage like appearance. Dad liked those kinds of cigars too.
“How long have I known you for, Everett?”
“For seven of my rotations now, Sir. So, I would say, about 3 years?”
The Major eyed me with a wolfish grin and took another bountiful draught of his cigar. ”Hmmm. That long huh?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Well…you’ve been quite the prospect for the big man upstairs but now looks like I will finally get to test your mettle myself. This operation is the perfect opportunity. Don’t let me down son.”
Of course, Major Lucian was referring to the Colonel. The Colonel had me earmarked for a promotion for a long time and I guess Major Lucian wanted to interject and disrupt his plans a tad bit. They had some sort of sordid history together. But, no matter. I’ll follow my orders as always. Discipline, Honor & Courage. For God & Country. Major Lucian shifted his gaze to my side table or rather the delectable treat that was on top of it. “Ahhhh. Now what is that tasty looking thing?”
“A Danish sweet bread. I try to make one every now and then.”
The Major took the cigar between his fingers and smacked his lips. I saw a tiny spark of mischief in his eye and before I could react, he snatched the bread and took a ravenous bite out of it. Chewing the bread, amidst a smattering of saliva and bread crumbs, he squinted his eyes and looked at me with a drool filled smile. It irked me to no end that someone would take a chunk out of MY bread like that but then again, the Major never was one for protocol.
Not letting go of his smile, Major Lucian went on to chew the bread and let out a long sigh. He carefully put down the bread back on the table. “All right son. Get geared up we’re heading out soon.” He nonchalantly ambulated towards the entrance, taking his sweet time. I know he walked this slow on purpose. He knew taking a bite of the bread like that annoyed me to no end.
Stopping right before the door, he eyed my squarely. I returned his stare with a piercing gaze of my own.
“Was there anything else? Sir.”
“Nope. Nothin else kiddo. Just that I have high expectations from you.” The Major said shrugging his shoulders.
I nodded in return. “Certainly sir. I won’t disappoint you.”
“Good. Oh and Everett?”
“Yes sir?”
“That bread has to be the sweetest thing I have ever tasted. Took me right back to the Garden of Eden.”
“Ohhh, Danny boyyy, the pipes, the pipes are calling. From glen to glen, and down the mountain sidddeee…”
“Ohhhh, Bannny Oeeee, dah pipesss are-““No sweetie! It’s Danny not Banny.” Mom chastised me while letting out a chuckle.“Okay, okay Mom.” I was far too enraptured with my legos than to notice any sort
of instructions Mom was relaying to me. Back then I wasn’t wasn’t quite the fastidious person I am today. So, the details be damned.
But she didn’t really care. She did however, care about the things that mattered. Things, that according to her, came from the soul.
“Your Dad is going to take you hunting soon I reckon. I don’t know why you need to hunt for food when bread is all you need.” She said while putting a morsel of that Danish sweet bread of hers into my mouth, tying up the gesture with a flour filled tap of her finger on my nose and a little kiss. “Well, what do you think Everett?”
Ahhhh. It had tasted soo sweet. Not cloyingly so and so tender and firm at the same time. Mom’s Danish would just melt in your mouth. A cascading delight draping your tongue with the sweetest of pleasures.
Seeing my gleeful expression, she playfully pinched my nose. “Good. Remember, it’s made from the soul. A place of love. It will always be sweet for you because you are the sweetest boy, aren’t you?” She said, right before assailing me with a barrage of tickles.
“SKIPPP!!!” Jeff shook me from my reverie.
“What?” I annoyingly replied.
“Here. Your M-4.” Jeff handed me my assault rifle with an aloof expression. He and I had been in boot camp together. Unfortunately, the rigors of warfare hadn’t really dampened his merry spirit. Which isn’t really surprising since his dumbass couldn’t even get past middle school. He was too much of an idiot to know that at the end of the day; all we were doing was killing people.
Still, every now and then, he would still try his hand at a conversation with me, to spark up the friendship we used to have in boot camp. “So…I see you’ve got a new trigger charge on your gun. Hehehe. Sweet!”
Throughout my rotations, I had earned a reputation of being something of a savant with guns. Yes, I had installed a new trigger charge, alongside a more resilient trigger for a stable fire rate, a scuffed stock for better purchase and a secondary magazine taped to my primary for faster reloads. Quality of life improvements, nothing to boast about. “Yes Jeff. I have.”
I swear, from the corner of my eye, I saw Rob shaking his head. Guess the bastard didn’t like my lack of enthusiasm for little machines of death. “ALL RIGHT BOYS. Sitrep in five. Let’s roll out.” I loudly issued my orders and Rob and Jeff scuttled out of the armory. I hurriedly grabbed my canteen, strapped it on to my belt and was moving out when I noticed a slight, wet blob forming over my left pant pocket. My canteen was leaking it seems. A damn crack had appeared under it but…no time to lose. I’ll fix it later.
I headed outside and a huge swathe of light washed all over me. Ahhh. The stinging desert heat. As far as the eye could see. As far I was concerned, this was both Heaven and Hell rolled on to this desolate plain that stretched on forever. It seemed like this place would be the summation of my existence.
I eyed Jeff and Rob walking behind Major Lucian. They were both heading towards an ad hoc desk put on by Staff Sergeant Gabe. Gabe was personally installed in this operation by the Colonel. Lucian can’t be too happy about that.
It couldn’t have taken me more than three seconds to walk over to the makeshift briefing they had set up that Lucian and Gabe were already at odds with one another. “We don’t have full confirmation the target is located in the locale you purport. Even the target’s image has poor visual acuity.” Gabe was a recon specialist so he knew what to scout for in an operation.
“I don’t give a shit what you think boy. My intel’s solid.” Humph. Ever the rebel, the Major was.
“Watch it Major. The Captain-“
“You’re outranked here boy. MOVE OUT!”
Lucian and Gabe venomously eyed one another for a split second and moved out.
Major Lucian turned his head and flashed a toothy smile. Huh. Hadn’t noticed he had such yellowed teeth. Eyeing Jeff and Rob, he gave them a wink at his assumed victory over Gabe. Jeff and Rob chuckled and shuffled towards the Humvee along with the Major. So, they’re his cronies now!? Fucking hell.
Jeff and Rob were chatting away about the usual shit they did and I was fortunately not situated between their chatter but on the side so at the very least I could continue on in my thoughts. Lucian sat squarely on the passenger seat, intermittently taking sharp draughts of his cigar-in clearly violation of protocol while Gabe was the driver. The Major certainly had a field day with testing Gabe’s patience, throwing a volley of pot shots and not-so-veiled insults to him. “…and that’s why white shirts like you never know how to have fun. Always listening to the rules and what the big man tells you to do. Fucking pathetic if you ask me.”
Major Lucian never knew how to let up. Gabe however, never diverged from his stony façade. Not even for a second. “You would be wise to focus on the mission, Major. I have scouted ahe-“
“Never mind that. Everett here has done a bit of his own scouting haven’t you kiddo?”
Once again shaken out of my reverie, I tersely replied, “Not really sir, I hav-“
“Sure you have, you’ve run a few missions here and there, ingratiating yourself with the locals.”
Rob let out a loud chuckle. “HAH! Sergeant Everett’s ain’t so good with people. Me and Jeff know how to win em over.” Sure, if you call antagonizing them with insults and shoving them into the dirt ‘winning em over’. This asshole had a long list of disciplinary cautions. Only a matter of time before he would be court martialed.
“Shut up!” They may be his cronies but the Major didn’t like to be interrupted. “I was talking to Everett. Butttt then again. Is he right though Everett?” The Major eyed me with that wolfish grin of his. I was REALLY starting to dislike Lucian.
Shrugging off my discomfort, I replied, “Just some chatter with the locals, nothing noteworthy Major.”
“Whatever.” Lucian immediately descended into boredom. Casually
scratching his beard, he rolled down the window and shot out a yellowed glob of spit. Gabe’s faced contorted into a grimace while Jeff and Rob sat next to me displaying shadowy grins. They always liked Lucian’s casual flagrance of discipline and protocol. Still, I didn’t really tell the entire truth to the Major. I did occasionally interact with the locals. Last couple of patrols I kept running into this itinerant merchant of sorts. He sold pretty much everything ranging from basic victuals to photographs, souvenirs and other such sundries. Moving from place to place, it was always a welcome sight to run into him during my various patrols. He was a kindly man. His son had also taken a shine to me. A scrawny little brat, always dressed in a tattered red hoodie armed with the brightest smile. The boy and his father spoke a regional dialect that I wasn’t familiar with so I couldn’t really understand what they were saying. But that never stopped us from understanding each other. “Hey Red. Come here kiddo.” I couldn’t remember the son’s name so I just took to calling him Red, on account of the hoodie he wore. “Try this.” Last time we had met, I had taken some extra special care to bake some of Mom’s sweet bread, just for the kid. He happily took a bite out of it but mere moments after chewing it, his face morphed into a disdainful expression. He still chewed and swallowed the bread but then pointed to his mouth and made a mock gag reflex. Damn, he didn’t like it. I knew it was growing sour but I was trying REALLY hard to get the recipe right. I pantomimed a mournful expression and tousled his hair. He replied with his usual bright smile and began showing me his latest sketches…I hope Red is okay, wherever he is.
The Humvee came to a screeching halt. “All right boys, time for action!” Lucian uttered in a resounding tone.
Following motions practiced many times over, me and the rest of soldiers offloaded our equipment from the Humvee and splayed it on the ground. Sergeant Gabe had parked the Humvee close to a ridge sloping down to a valley dotted with a pocket of small settlements. The position was certainly high up: I could see a pack of vultures circling not too high above us. Gabe was true to his designation as a recon specialist, it was the perfect scouting position.
Lucian hadn’t completely exited the Humvee, leaving the door ajar and remaining seated with his right leg dangling on the ground. He held the cigar languidly between his teeth and was lost in a ponderous stare into the distance with his hands steepled under his chin. All of a sudden, without shifting his staid expression for even a second, he relayed an order, “Jeff! Unload the Barrett. You help him with it, Rob.” The sniper rifle? Now why would he ask to do that?
Gabe shared the same puzzled stare as a I did, “But sir, why would we need that right now. Our binoculars are more than sufficient. We need visual conformation of the target first and then we need to rely that info to the Colonel. We can’t use lethal force until-“
“YES WE CAN!!” The Major bellowed in an authoritative tone. “And Everett will take point.”
Gabe was stunned, “Sergeant Everett? But sir he-“
“Why not? He’s our best shot.”
With nary a word and without even taking my assent the Major forcefully imposed this task on me. I felt my vest’s right strap chafing against my shoulder. No matter.
I’ll follow my orders. For God & Country.
The Barrett M82. An anti-material sniper rifle chambered with .50 ammunition. Enough firepower to take out vehicles and even tanks. Looks like the Major was expecting some collateral damage. After Jeff and Rob spread the weapon on a makeshift tarp, I set out to make some adjustments: setting the tripod, tinkering with the zoom on the scope, chambering a round and attaching a muzzle brake for reduced recoil. Placing the rifle on the edge of the ridge, not too close to the edge in order to avoid the scope giving off a glare and compromising our position, I laid myself on my stomach and snugged the Barrett’s stock firmly in my right shoulder, ignoring the irritating chafe. Gabe similarly descended to the ground in a prone position next to me. He will be the spotter. And Lucian crouched besides me on my right and began surveilling the area with binoculars. Jeff and Rob spread out
behind us to cover our flanks.
Gabe began issuing me instructions in adjusting my aim, “Approximately 3mph wind force at 12’oclock. Accommodate an adjustment for 300 yards.”
“Affirmative” Wiping a sheen of sweat on my forehead, I snuggled my right eye into the scope and adjusted accordingly.
“Now the Major’s intel placed the target in the vicinity of that large house with a lopsided, brown gate, situated approximately 45 meters from the center of that decayed tree. Do you have it, Sergeant Everett?”
“Hmm.” I replied.
“Good. Now we wait.”
After what felt like an hour, through the scope, I noticed the gate jerk slightly before it was yanked open. Me, Gabe and Lucian twitched into attention and began to observe. A small, bustling throng of people emerged from the gate and I immediately began searching for our target.
Wait. This can’t be right. Gabe was right after all. The target’s image was not visually clear. “I’m spotting at least three men in the crowd that match the description of the target.”
Gabe concurred, “Indeed. We can’t proceed like this. Your intel is flawed Major.”
“NO! I can tell you that the tell that the target is the 4th one from the gate, the one with the scarred left side.” Lucian bellowed.
“This is information is not sufficient sir.” Gabe replied.
“Yes, it is boy. Besides, a civilian wouldn’t have those kinds of scars.”
“They are living in a warzone…”
“Doesn’t matter, that’s our target. They are shuffling towards a truck. Keep your eyes on em Everett. We’re gonna blow up that truck straight to kingdom come.”
Gabe turned to me, “Don’t proceed on this sergeant. We don’t have enough info.
The Captain won’t be pleas-“
“SCREW THAT. WHAT I SAY GOES!!!” Lucian’s temper was flaring.
Gabe grumbled but I tarried on. I began trailing the target through the crowd as they were huddling around the truck. They were climbing onto the back along with our supposed target. However, on the edge of my peripheral vision in the scope, I eyed a familiar face, rushing towards the back of the truck. Behind him I spied a red wisp of a tiny person trailing him.
“Its…Red…”
“What’s that now?” Major Lucian snapped back at me.
“We…shouldn’t proceed…we…need…”
“QUIET! Time’s almost here. See those two signposts, one at the beginning of the road the truck’s pointed to and one at the end. It gives us a perfect line of sight.”
“…but sir.”
“LOOK at them. They are all on board now. We have about 7 seconds before the truck reaches the second signpost and after that, it’s gone.”“I…don’t…”
“Hit the gas tank or just center mass. The bullet’s impact will take care of the rest. These .50 mag rounds are STRONG. HAHAHA!”
Gabe sensed my unease, “MAJOR, we need to reconsider our-”
“SHUT UP! 6 SECONDS BOY! They are all in the truck”
Red. Sitting on his father’s lap. That bright smile of his…
“Everett! Do it kiddo! 5 SECONDS!”
A bead of sweat, trailing over my eye.
“SIR! We don’t know for sure!”
“BE QUITE GABE. Listen to me Everett! 4 SECONDS LEFT!”
The circling vultures descending down upon us.
“EVERETT!!! YOU’RE TESTING MY PATIENCE!”
My leaky canteen, spurting a droplet of water.
“You don’t have to do this Everett.” Gabe whispered to me.
“YES HE DOES! DO IT EVERTT! 3 SECONDS!” Lucian shouted.
“I…I…how do…”
The broken fridge.
“STOP THINKING KIDDO!! DON’T YOU DARE DISAPPOINT ME!! 2
SECONDS”
“But I…don’t…”
The ants mantling towards my sweet bread.
“THAT’S IT!! IT’S NOW OR NEVER EVERTT!! TAKE THE FUCKING
SHOT!!!”
“…for god & country…”
WABOOOOOMMMMMMMM
The truck erupted in a conflagration of hellfire. I don’t remember pulling the trigger. Or the faint, fleeting shrieks after the truck exploded. Or Gabe’s melancholic expression. Or even Lucian’s orgasmic bacchanalia after seeing the truck erupt in a tumult of fire and brimstone, his eyes gleaming with joy interspersed with frothy laughter. I do remember sitting in the Humvee after we had wrapped up all of our equipment and were about to head out. Gabe looked over to me. “You all right?”
“I…feel…lighter.” I wistfully replied.
“Hydrate.” Gabe tersely replied.
I grabbed my canteen and felt it being lighter than usual. “Humph. Your canteen. It’s empty? I can see a crack. Should’ve fixed it when you had the chance…” Gabe shook his head and started the Humvee.
“Yeah…”
The ride back to base was rather uneventful and Lucian was oddly quiet. He carried a satisfied smile over his face all the while sleeping on our ride back. Jeff and Rob were chatty as usual and Gabe…was being more stoic than usual.
After heading back from our mission, I had taken a detour to the mess hall and filled my appetite before heading back to the barracks. Not wanting to ruminate on the day’s events, I walked over to my side table to take a bite out of my sweet bread. However, there wasn’t much left. The ants had stripped everything away; nothing beside remained but for a tiny morsel, shriveled and rotten.
A blot of light pierced through my eyelids and lit up my vision with a sea of light.
My rude awakening from my nap was accompanied by a series of jolts from our ride. I was in the Humvee sitting on the passenger seat while Jeff and Rob were in the back. Gabe had gone back to the Colonel. Lucian was accompanying us, as he had been wont to do as of late, as well as taking the position of the designated driver. “Don’t you boys worry; I’ll get us to our destination safe and sound.”
Lucian said through his yellow toothed smile.Jeff and Rob were once again yapping away about some new gun or another. Jeff leaned over to me and said, “Well, whadya think Skip? Rob’s really into the hollow points for the newly issued Glock. I feel like agreein with him.” He stared at me expectantly with a hint of a grin.
I eyed Rob and we shared a smile. Our relationship had thawed a bit. “You know…I feel like shatter point rounds are a lot better for the Glock. Less impact, true but also far less recoil because you see…”
I replied enthusiastically and drifted into a conversation with them.
Our chatter faded into the staccato of the pebbles run over by the Humvee, in this great plain desert that stretched on forever; our own little Eden.
