Page 11 - WOTS_Issue_70
P. 11

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
   6   7   8   9   10   11   12   13   14   15   16