Battle Fatigue

“Yo! John? Johnny?” James said.
“That’s not how you do it!” Reed laughed than hit me over and over on the forehead saying, “Hello? McFly? McFly are you in there?” We all doubled over in laughter. The Iraq war has been going on for a little over a year now and we’re getting good in the action. A lot of the guys in my squad are like me. Not even old enough to drink but old enough to carry a gun. Old enough to kill. Enlisted the day we could. We just got through basic and we’re being shipped out to a desert somewhere in the southern part of Iraq. It’s not exactly fun and games here but it’s not prison.
Reed is my best friend. Not a bad guy. He’s a sergeant so he’s higher ranking than us privates but he’s still one of us. We continued marching. James’ bleached-blond hair was cut high and tight like everyone else. I couldn’t help but feeling like a clone or a robot marching in the 112 degree desert.
Our C.O. is strict. He may have said his name but me and the guys; we just call him the Colonel. I think he’s ok with that because we never address him by his name anyway. Shipped to the edge of the desert and than sent to march the rest of the way. That’s how the military does it I guess.
“Millions of fighter aircrafts, tanks, trucks, bombers, and we have to walk like we’re fourteen and can’t drive!” James mumbles.
“Shut up!” I say, punching him in the arm. “It’s bad enough with the heat. I don’t wanna hear you complain the entire time!” I run my hand over my now-bald head, my fingers fumbling over the lack of curly black hair.
“He’s right” Chaos interrupts. There are 32 of us here. We are all part of one troop but the army separated us to as little numbers as possible with a commissioned officer still in charge. Chaos is one of my favorites. You could say we’re in groups of friends. Really you can’t have too many enemies on your own side before you forget who you’re out here to take on. We just stick with our squads and that’s that. I have a couple of really great guys to fight with. There’s Chaos, Reed, James, Marko, Tallyho, Bonfire, Mix, Tex, Straggler, Cato, and me. Reed and James are brothers. A couple of us go by call signs, names you get in basic for the impression you make. Marko is the best shot we have. Mix and Tex barely made it through basic. I’m surprised they did.
“Set up here!” the Colonel shouts.
“Here?” Mikey says stupidly. The Colonel shoves Mikey’s face in the dirt.
“That’s what I said ain’t it?” The Colonel mocks. He picks up Mikey by the neck, spits in the poor boy’s face, than slams him back in the dirt. A lot of us look out for Mikey. I don’t think the Colonel gets it, but Mikey, well; he’s not right in the head. He’s treated a lot like a pet here.
Not three minutes after the last tent is set up the Colonel calls a few drills simulating attacks. Some of the guys, the one’s who barely made it outta basic, ran around panicking. Most of us went with procedures though. In the end the Colonel shoved us into the mess tent and read off names. “Chaos, Bonfire, Mix, Tex. I am pleased to inform you that because of your stupidity you’re all dead.” Tex sighs and Mix punches Chaos hard in the shoulder. “I’m also pleased to inform you that because of these idiots, you all will be doing air raid drills for five hours. Reed, you’re in charge of ‘em.”
We ended up doing more drills than planned. I had to feel bad for Reed afterwards since he was the one ordered to call the drill and see how we did. I don’t feel bad for him that he didn’t have to do the drill with us, more that he got pushed around a lot by the guys after.
“Hey Sergeant Reed!” ”Hey Bonehead” “Hey wise guy!” were some of the nicest things they would shout. One suggested he do drills for a day than go stuff it while another suggested he strap a live C-4 to his back and do motivators. One told Reed to try and stop a triple A with his gut when Reed ordered for him to clean up near his bunk. They got over it though.
Our C.O. was not our friend and he wasn’t trying to be either. He didn’t sugarcoat anything and he didn’t allow anyone messing around. One night after he had gone in his tent, the guys (led by Mikey) set up a camp fire and they started roasting marshmallows he had smuggled in. Colonel came running out of his tent screaming that a fire sends off smoke and light and was an easy sign to the enemy that we were hear. Mike shot him a look than turned to Robert and muttered something about Colonel’s screaming being worse than the fire. That set the Colonel off hard. Mikey was on night guard for a month and we all had to crawl in the mud till dawn. “Want to sing campfire songs?” the colonel shouted with a horrible look in his eyes. “Ever heard of this one? On your belly, on your backs, on your feet!” he screamed and we instantly dropped into the mud and up again to the song. You could tell he was enjoying this. We dropped on our stomachs, rolled over, and hoisted ourselves back up in beat.
Now What? I thought as the Colonel came bolting up to us at lunch the next day.
“There’s been an attack reported!” the Colonel said with so much urgency in his voice I knew it was the truth and not another drill. “It’s America. An air to ground. H. Q. said to avoid procedures and evac. while still possible. While we’re still alive.” Reed turned his head toward me and frowned.
“If I didn’t know better I’d say they’re over estimating the Air Force,” Reed said after the Colonel left.
“And underestimating us,” James finished. “I don’t get the military. They know there’s an attack from our own side and they don’t even try to stop it.”
“Shut up and go pack your sorry butt before it gets blown to bits,” Reed laughed. His expression told me he was worried about the situation too.
We left the camp after five minutes. We were experts at getting everything packed up and getting ourselves suited up. We got a good distance from the camp site (which had a lot of stuff we didn’t need so that they would still bomb the place and not hunt us down) and turned in time to see what was left of boxes and a few extra tents go up in flames. Dancing colors of crimson and gold, orange and yellow mingling together. Blood red sparks at the top. The site might have been beautiful if not for the bombs. MK-83s. You could see them fall. You could practically hear the screams of what these same bombs have done to towns- to innocent people. We moved on.
“Well,” said Marko, “Where to now?”
“There’s a POW camp about twenty miles south,” the Colonel grunted. This was the first time I really saw how he looked. It’s not like you can inspect the guy while your at attention. He was around fifty. Taller than a lot of us and had broad shoulders, probably from tossing them back while at attention and marching. He had gray hair and it made him look a lot like my grandfather. “We’re gonna break into the camp and set the captives free. Kill the soldiers and guards. Reed, your squad is responsible for securing the gate so we can break in. Max, you and your guys are going to take out any soldiers after the gate. Reed, if ya have a few extra guys send ‘em to help Max’s boys. The rest of us bash some heads and break open any holding cells. These guys are tough but we can take ‘em. Any questions?” he paused. “Does everyone understand?”
“Yes, Sir!” we said with as much effort as we could muster.
We got there in a couple hours time. We hid in the cliffs while the Colonel went over the plan two more times; with more details each time he said it. We took out Arab uniforms someone had swiped and dressed in them, abandoning any unnecessary supplies and our old uniforms by the cliffs. We approached the guards with me in the front right next to Cato. I guess he could speak like a native because when we got up there he greeted them and started talking quickly. There were two guards. While Cato and I distracted them (I didn’t talk at all, Cato told them I had gotten shot in the neck and was having trouble with speaking) James, Reed, and the other guys shuffled around the corner and easily took out both guards. Cato and I hid the bodies and guarded the entrance while the others shoved in. I heard screams but I couldn’t tell whose they were. I shot a nervous glance at Cato. You think they’re all right in there? I mouthed. He shrugged with a grimace. I knew he was thinking the same thing I was. I imagined them all crowded in there shooting and getting shot. I wondered how many had died already and how many more deaths we should expect. We stood there for what seemed like days. Nobody came in or out of the gate, which surprised me. Weren’t we supposed to set the captives free? I later found out someone had tossed a C-4 at a wall so the prisoners could escape faster. Finally Reed and the Colonel ushered everyone out and back to the cliffs. I tried to see who was missing but I stopped myself. I didn’t want to know. Not yet.
The Colonel sat us all down. It was around sunset now. It surprised us when he lit a fire.
“The smoke will be hidden by the dark, the low sun keeps the fire’s light well hidden. You’d have thought they would teach you better survival in basic!” His voice was rough. He had dark shadows under his eyes now. “Look,” he said. “I know you guys worked hard today and you did your best. This time, it was good enough. Most of you made it out alive.” He paused; his voice had grown to nearly a whisper. “Max, your friend Bishop is gone. Along with Jack, Nick, Bonfire, and Mix? You’re brother Tex. He died trying to protect a pregnant woman and her son. He wouldn’t leave them behind.” I swallowed hard. We didn’t know Mix and Tex were brothers. We thought the only guys related here were Reed and James.
Mix spoke up, “He had a wife back home. She’s due in a month. And he has a kid- a girl. She’s five. That’s why he cared so much I guess.” He paused than, in a somewhat stronger voice, choked out, “But, sir, it looks like more are missing.” The Colonel looked down.
“I regret to inform you that,” the Colonel tried to sound formal or at least polite but it didn’t hide the grimace on his face. “I regret to inform you that Straggler, Slicker, Eli, Charles and Bomber are M.I.A.”
“No way,” Marko said. He and Straggler had enlisted together. Knew each other since high school. “Sir, can we go after them?”
“We could, but it’s not really our place. There’s another P.O.W. camp close by. It’s most likely that our men are there.” He lowered his voice to a whisper, as if he had just remembered we were half a mile from a bunch of ticked off Arabs, depending on how many were even still there. “What we’ll do is travel five miles north east. It’s nearly night now so we should have the cover of the dark. We’ll camp there for the rest of the night. Unpack only the necessities. We don’t want to take to long in the morning. We can eat here so any trace of food is left here. We’ll have a quick bite in the morning than move to the P.O.W. camp.” He sighed, “We’ll stop about ten miles from the camp and rest for the night. We’ve had a rough day so I think you guys deserve a day off. Change back into your normal clothes once we get to where we’ll camp tonight. Our disguises might work on someone. Dismissed.”
We ate quickly and began marching. I think everyone just wanted to rest for the night. Cato and I volunteered to keep watch for half the night since we mostly stood at the gate anyway.
Around midnight I heard something over by a couple of rocks. I called Cato over and he stood watch while I checked it out. I approached from the other side, crawling on my stomach, hoping I was camouflaged enough by the lack of light. Two men holding guns were positioned behind the rocks and facing towards the rest of the guys. I pointed my gun at the one on the left and waited to fire for a minute. They were whispering quickly in another language. One fired his rifle and barely missed Cato, who jumped to the ground. I knew they were enemy now, or at least, they were a threat to my friends. I shot one in the neck and hit the other in the leg. I got up closer and disarmed the guy who was still alive.
“Spare me,” he pleaded.
“Why should I spare you? What have you done but try to hurt my friends. Are there more of you?”
“No. No,” he gasped. I looked down at his leg than back at his face. Suddenly I recognized him.
“You were at the P.O.W. camp. You were one of the guys who got away I guess. But yes, you were there. Tell me. Tell me and maybe I’ll spare your sick life. Captives. Were there any American soldiers captured? Not killed. Captured.” The Arab nodded. “Where would they have taken the soldiers once captured?”
“Prisoner of War camp. There’s one nearby. Don’t kill me! Don’t kill me!”
“Coward!” I shouted. Than in a lower voice, “you sicken me! How could you kill all these innocent people? My friend was shot. We have families back home. My friend’s dead and you know what? He had a daughter and a wife and he’s about to have another kid. How could you kill him you sick man!” The man began sobbing. I thought he was even more of a coward. I sighed. The impulse of the moment had begun to wear off. I could see the sun start to rise. “That camp. Where is it?”
“I’ve seen you traveling. You are going in the right direction. Let me go. Please.”
Staring into his eyes might make killing a man near impossible. That’s where the weakness got to me. I glanced at his face. It was pathetic. For a second I hesitated.
“You don’t deserve to live!” I said as I fired the rifle at his chest.
I began walking back to Cato. He asked what happened and who it was. Said I was over there for a while. I shook my head and explained it all. Cato told me I could go now and I trudged over to my cot. I fell asleep sitting on the end of my bed, my head buried in my hands.