Page 11 - WOTS_Issue_70
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am. All of a sudden, a man grabs my arm and says, “Get a move and he was just fulfilling his duties. At this moment, I didn’t care
on; they’re coming.” Obviously, no time for questions. I throw my what Frank was; talking to him was the only thing keeping
helmet on, strap on my boots, grab my gun, and follow the pack. me sane.
The shooting is deafening. I’m so confused and my body is News comes in that our company down the road lost half their
shaking from the anxiety of it all. I fall into a bunker and try to team in a morning raid. The camp is devastated. I see Frank tear
grip my gun but my hands are numb. My brain starts functioning up and move around, consoling others. I wander around
again but my body hasn’t caught up. I lay there useless, unable to aimlessly, pretending like I have an idea of what’s going on but
rely on anything I have known. It’s all gone, all of it. The shooting inside I’m freaking out. There is a lot of pain and anguish around
stops. That was the longest hour of my life. The enemy retreated, me, yet I still can’t get past my situation. At that moment, I
for now. It’s apparent we’re in a desert and I’m fighting in a war I realized that was the first similarity to the life I knew before this
didn’t sign up for. Making no sudden moves, I wait for a sign. The war. It was painful to admit but freeing to see that I really don’t
rest of the guys in the trench start heading out so I dust myself have control on what is going on and no amount of scheming can
off and follow. fix anything. That night I talk to Frank and put it all out there. I tell
him about how I have a desire to live well and be useful to society
but I have found no peace or purpose in what I am looking for. I
am trapped. He explains to me that there is another lens to see
“It’s all gone, all of it. The life through. That there is a way of life that is different than what
most people know.
Mildly confused and growing more blunt in my new reality, I
shooting stops. That was the ask him what he meant. He tells me a story about how we are
born separated from God. And how without reconciliation to
longest hour of my life. The Him, we are left to rely on what we know. I don’t know if I can
roll with what Frank tells me, but at the same time, I got nothing.
enemy retreated, for now. It’s He prays with me and gives me a Bible. He says the book can’t
apparent we’re in a desert and save you but the God who wrote it can. I start reading where the
bookmark was left and can’t believe how the words speak to me,
I’m fighting in a war I didn’t like the book had been written just for me personally. I read
about how God’s own Son laid down His own life. I fall asleep
sign up for.” easily for the first time in years. The next day, it was more than
just my body that woke up.
I find myself in a mess hall. The routine seems very normal to
all but me. I stumble around trying to make it look like I know
what I’m doing. At this point, it’s just eating, which I am generally
very good at, but I struggle to raise a fork to my mouth without
spilling. Suddenly, I feel a firm hand on my shoulder. It was the
same guy who helped me this morning. He asks if he can have a
seat. Without hesitation I say, “Definitely.” I hate being alone and
this was the first attempt at talking to someone since the abrupt
events of the morning. He recognizes I’m new and introduces
himself as Frank. Not knowing where to start, I just sit there
quietly and let him talk. He tells me he is eight months into his
tour and couldn’t wait to get home to see his wife and kids. He,
too, didn’t sign up to fight but accepted the fate considering it
was a mandatory draft. He wasn’t going to run from his call
to service.
Dinner ends and we have a short meeting. Battle plans for our
next invasion are discussed. I can’t pay attention. All I can think
about is how I am so far removed from what’s going on that I feel
like I’m going to die. Frank assures me I can stay by his side but
his optimism is starting to concern me a bit. Is he crazy? Is he just
grossly optimistic and about to crack? I saw him reading a Bible
right after lunch and close his eyes for a prayer. I was familiar
with church-like rituals and activities but it seemed odd to me
that he was reading and praying on a Tuesday (I only knew the
day because we ate the food listed below Tuesday on the menu).
I chalked it up to Frank being part of some hyper-religious group