Been a while since I posted on here, but I feel my blog should be left for regular blogging duties, so this is a great place for my work of fiction. I wanted to post this on veterans day/Remembrance day but I had an internal conflict about which chapter to post, where to post it, etc. But I decided this is a great place, and Chapter One is the only place to start to avoid spoilers (Since I know some of my closest friends hate spoilers. Aaron) so without further adieu, this is Chapter One of my novel I am working on called Red River:
As the Iraqi wind blows through my hair, I am blasted too by the rush of energy. Adrenaline and testosterone pumps through my veins like a piston. Seeing the sandy landscape of rolling hills is what finally hits us all. We are at war. A war many people consider glorious, however, I see it as just something that needs doing. Many of the ignorant boys in my squad saying they can’t wait to kill, I just want our objective completed to keep my country safe for years to come. This war can’t possibly take long. As they say, we come in, we kick some ass, then we leave. Though I prefer the classic: ‘It’s time to kick ass and chew bubble gum, and I’m all out of gum’, but that’s just a personal preference.
Admittedly, I wasn’t too excited about leaving my wife back home. Unfortunately I was enlisted before we were married. I miss her so much already, but we made a pact to write each other as much as possible. I won’t be able to send her my letters for about a week because of army protocol, we don’t want our position to be compromised. I’ve never gone a week without talking to Jade, I know this is going to be very hard. But I gotta do what I gotta do.
The aircraft lands with a thump and we are all amped up to get to action, even myself, it’s amazing how we all feed off each other.
“Alright squad, on me.” Says our Staff Sergeant. “We are going to Tent A for debriefing! Not a word until after, unless told otherwise. Is that clear!?”
“Sir, yes, Sir!” We all scream in unison, although I think I was the only person judging the army for the very original tent label. I don’t think anyone in my squad had the mental capacity to find it funny, in fact, maybe that’s why the label is so simple, maybe they wouldn’t tell the difference without the simplification. Numbers, letters, colors, there’s no bullshit at war.
We were corralled into tent A for the debriefing, not speaking a particular word, just letting out loud grunts and shouts. The staff sergeants and commanding officers told us of the enemy, told us that the enemy set up a barricade on the main road to Baghdad and have been firing RPGs at all who came near. Allegedly the enemy was also killing their own civilians. And my personal favorite, that the enemy will take away our freedoms. Having spent time overseas as well as at home, I know that only the government can take away their freedoms, and boy do I have a thing or two to say about that. Often I had troubles taking this kind of thing seriously, I mean, what is freedom anyways? Do we even have it in the ‘Land of the free’? Not anymore, not in my opinion. Do I have freedom at war? No, even my identity has been stripped. I am a number, I am a color, I am a letter.
I was often the voice of reason in training, not afraid to tell the others how stupid they were at times. I guess sometimes testosterone makes us say stupid things, but they knew not to talk back to me either. I kicked all their asses at least once over, and I never initiated the fights. It’s not my fault they made an ass of themselves daily, hell, this bunch has already done it too, and we’ve only been in tent A for less than ten minutes. They all respected me in basic training, they still do, I can never tell if it’s because I am bigger than most of them, because they see I am in love (they call me and my wife Adam and Eve jokingly), because I am a Christian, or because I actually know what I am talking about, perhaps it’s a mixture of all of the above. Most of them just need to learn to think though. They had turned into the senseless killing machines that basic training is made for, however, I was not so easily broken. It’s all an act for me. I put on a mask when taking action, or talking to my superiors, but behind the scenes I know how to take that mask off. I know how to be a romantic with my wife, I know how to be a business man at work, and I know how to be respectful as a member of society. My friends at war however are disrespectful slobs, but I can’t help but want to fix that. I’m only hard on them because I believe they can be more than who the army has turned them into.
The Corporal was now was babbling about the gloriousness of war, and how we are the protectors of the USA, the land of the free, the home of the brave, the finest place on Earth, and, of course, Gods country. This I do agree with. This is why I am here. I want a good future for me, my wife and our future kids, as well as everyone else back home. Even my father than ran off on me and my mom when I was three, even my mother who became so clinically insane she was thrown in a mental institution, and is still there. From the guy selling hot dogs outside my office, to the guy in the oval office, it is my duty to protect and serve.
We all let out a loud “HOORAH!” as the debriefing ends with the Corporal. Now we are all being sent to our respective squad tents, and this is where the bonding begins. Because we are all at war, we are brothers, and sisters. Every one of us is all we need. HOORAH!