“This stronghold? They dropped you there? I understand it was in the middle of town?”
“Yes. I mean no. They? Major dropped us there. And the center of town was crawling with the enemy, men, women, and children. We were to take down a high ranking enemy leader. We landed right on top of him unbeknownst to both parties. Literally we landed on the roof to his complex, shot our way through the corridors and once in the room that was halfway built into the ground with a long set of windows looking onto a sandy courtyard. You were eye level with the ground, very secure and very convenient. Three perished before we reached the center of the stronghold.”
I looked away from him. He scribbled notes as if what I had been through was a science he had to study. I was forced to sit here. I didn’t understand why I had to undergo psych evaluation. I didn’t know if they were testing me to see if I was mentally competent (which I probably wasn’t) or testing to see if I were a guilty willing accomplice. I shuddered at the thought. I was almost happy when the quack interrupted again distracting me from my own dreadful reflections.
He asked the same question he already knew the answer to but only substituting keywords to try and once again throw me off. “So if you landed right on top of him you terminated him and completed your objective?”
“Yes, we entered the room. The only piece of intelligence we were to obtain was the leader’s laptop,” I paused and waited for him to ask his routine question. And as I suspected he began to speak. To avoid another version of the same question I answered. “Yes we secured the Intel and shot the man and all three of his guards upon entry without hesitation. It was a specific orders for him to be put down.” Usually the next time the shrink talks he tries to re-route me back to starting over again as if he is afraid to hear the ending which I knew he had shuffled somewhere in his clipboard. I can’t blame him. I know I hated living with it.
“So if your objective had been accomplished then why did it happen?”
He threw me off with that one. It set me off like a bomb inside. I was fuming. The way he spoke of it so casually as if it were the shuffling of papers on his second-rate desk.
I stood. The man flinched but appeared to pretend he wasn’t uncomfortable or scared shitless. I leaned forward towards him ever so menacing. “Do you really want to know what happened?” He shook his head yes with a terror stricken face. “Okay then, shut the hell up and quit interrupting me because I am trying to tell you the truth.”
I walked back over to the couch. I sat and looked him square in the eye as he nervously shifted in his seat and I didn’t know if he could really handle the real non sugar-coated truth. I had to lay it all out for him. I took a deep breath and began.
“Once the objective was complete they had swarmed the hallway and were pouring into the room. This place was infested. It was also so well disguised. The people who were rushing in where civilians. They wore regular clothes and brandished pistols and iron pipes. Some were women. I hated the fact we had to put them all down but if we didn’t they would have beaten us to a pulp. That is how we lost Straffanburg. They surged in and he was closest to the door. Women and men beat him with pipes. They really didn’t want us there. This was a community totally dedicated to their cause of... whatever that is,” I paused to catch my breath. The shrink leaned forward in his large chair that dwarfed him as if we were to say something but I shot him a look and then he seemed to be preoccupied with his clipboard not wanting to make eye contact, let alone speak. “Every five or so people would go by and we would see the real enemy. They wore only uniform pants or jackets but never the full garb. We took them out as well. Scott tossed a frag into the hallway and that took the bulk of them. We fought to this get this room and cleared it. The room sat on ground level so this is where we took our stand because the amount of dead and wounded were starting to add up. We needed reinforcements. We sealed off the door after we seen more coming. They pounded and pushed but the two heavy storage cabinets that once stood on either side of the steps now leaned up against the door and was too heavy lying on their side, refusing to budge against amount of force. That had flushed them back out into the hall with two options, upstairs or outside. I ran to the little window ,almost tripping over their dead leader, just in time to see them running into the courtyard. I fired at their feet and wounded a few but then they fell to their bellies and were firing back at me until someone would drag them off the field or I got them first. The whole situation was spiraling out of control. I had Raul radio the helicopter above. We needed a way out of here and that chopper was our evacuation point. I could hear its machine gunner thumping away at the enemy below. Then it was gone. Just gone.”
“What do you mean gone?” He genuinely asked scooting up on his seat.
“An RPG blew it to pieces. It had flown after landing us on the objective point then went off in the distance a little ways not far off for safety. In moments it was already being attacked. Right when Raul made contact the line went dead. Somewhere a few blocks away the chopper was hit and exploded, raining flaming metal upon the town. Then I had to send for back up and I didn’t how long that would take but I knew it wouldn’t be short. We were on our own. I shot the first of only two flares. We held strong. Two of us would step up to the narrow window and empty a clip. Then another two would retire us and take over. We had constant firepower and each one of us had about four reloads a piece. We noticed that they had quit firing. I peered through the window and directly adjacent from our window was an equally small and narrow opening. They were shooting from there. A bullet whizzed by my face and that confirmed it. It was touch and go from there. I knew there were more people around in the houses in front of the window. I wasn’t so sure about behind our location so there was a chance of escape. Right when I finished the thought someone had approached the window unseen from the side. It was a child of about twelve years old. He clutched something gray and round. My first instinct is to grab the boy out of harm’s way but my training taught me better. The boy suddenly threw the object. It was the grenade. Scott and I who were at the window dived out of the way behind the boxes and then it exploded but you already know about that.”
I stopped for a while wishing I didn’t have to recant the memories I wished to forget. I rubbed my face and gave a heavy sigh.
“We can continue this another time if you would like.” The psychoanalyst seemed almost genuinely polite for once.
“No. I want to get this whole story part out of the way in one visit. I don’t want to drag this out any longer than it already will last.”
He nodded understanding and I continued take an even heavier inhale.
“We were mad and wanted vengeance. We kept fighting. We didn’t care for evacuation. We wanted blood. It wasn’t long after I had shot the second flare that Jack and a few others stumbled in. We rejoiced in the briefest and most sombre way possible. We had more people to help us. We all regrouped and strolled into the courtyard. The majority had been shot but many stay in the second stories and shots would ring out every few seconds. We had already radioed our commanding officer to pick us up. I noticed one man was still behind the opposing window. The others remained in formation in the courtyard pinpointing targets. Jack and I walked over and kicked in the door. A bullet luckily zoomed between us. We went on guard and crept into the room. We stood and seen a teenaged boy. He was cowering in the corner with his pistol in hand. He saw us rise up and he pulled the trigger but he had fired his last round with only metallic clicking sounds coming from his firearm. I held my gun high. He chucked the gun at us and seemed to get ready to stand up. Then he ran toward us screaming at the top of his lungs. I shot him. A single bullet in the child’s forehead. Jack argued to me that he may have been dashing toward the door behind us because he seemed so scared. He said to me that the kid was out of bullet so the killing was unnecessary and inefficient. He hadn’t seen the women and young adults who beat Streffanburg or the child who tossed the grenade, that very well had been the child. Coerced or n
ot the boy would have killed one of us and his indoctrinated hatred would have continued to this day if someone hadn’t already strapped a bomb to him by then. This whole town seemed evil. We had to get back out of the single room apartment because the sound of a chopper was hovering closer and closer outside. Only one person got out. It was our commanding officer. We just called him Major. He asked us who were the reinforcements. Jack announced who each person was and reported his casualties. Then Major gave Jack a sling then he ordered Him and Onan to check the wreckage of the downed chopper and to shoot flairs in the areas where our casualties needed to be picked up. The flares would help guide the retrieval team. They disappeared amongst the browned shanty structures within seconds. Major looked at me then to Scott and ordered us to do away with the residence of the area. He said plain and simply like that. I wanted to be on that chopper more than anything. Major had this eerie smile on his face when he spoke to us. Scott damn near pulled me along with him. He was delighted to partake. Scott had lost his brother and three good friends to these ideologies so I understand how strongly he felt but no one should get that excited to kill innocence. It always has to be justifiable.”
My headache was agony but I had the shrink's attention and there was no way I could just stop.
“You did say you two wanted blood.” He stated in a matter-of-fact tone. Then preceded to scribble many notes all over his page. I watch him as he flips the page, folding the page back exposing a sheet. He then flicks his eye toward me, intently awaiting the rest of the story
“Yes I did but not in the way Major did. He personally found some child and dragged him into the middle of the courtyard and shot him in the head and just discarded him unceremoniously amongst the other bodies. It was so hard to watch. The folks who remained in their houses fearing for their lives for the most part already had indicated surrender and were helpless. You could tell the difference between those who meant you harm just be looking at their demeanor and eye movement. We were taught that and Major knew this but he didn’t care. We had to follow suit because he had heard stories of this guy killing one of his own for defying a simple command such as coffee or some shit. So with that in our head and the fucked up shit he was doing right in front of us… I mean there was no other way. If we didn’t then it would have been us and we would have just been labeled another casualty of war just like all the other guys. I walked into one house and a man charged up at me so I shot him, there was a woman as well as a child and Major appeared behind me once again and shot the woman. He told me to put the kid down. These people now were just fighting out of defense. We were no longer there to fight the enemy, we were this town's grim reapers. Actual civilians witnessed the massacre and simply reacted in a way that any victim would. That older kid before actually tried to kill me. In a twisted way that kill was justifiable. Now a new man who now lies dead due to my rifle and he was just protecting his family. He was scared and probably hiding the whole fucking battle. Why couldn’t Jack have been there now? If I hadn’t done it then it would have been me who went down. The child though, why the child? The little guy couldn’t have been more than four…”
I paused to fight back a surge of confusing and weird emotions. I have to slow my tempo. I am shooting too many rhetorical questions at the quack. I am getting too worked up. A horrid mix of sadness, guilt, and pride boiled in the pit of my stomach. I wiped some sweat and took a drink out of the small water glass sitting on the end table which it always had every visit. Choking back painful details I continued.
“Once the remaining inhabitants witnessed the cold-blooded murders, fight or flight kicked in. Some ran and many stood their ground and eventually we had to shoot to kill anyway. The townspeople felt they had to survive but so did we. If we didn't adhere to command, Major would have killed us on the spot just like the rest of `em. There was a pistol on the shelf not far from the poor child and the kid couldn’t have been more than four or five years old but he ran for the gun. Major was yelling and screaming for me to shoot him. Both the child and I were in tears. The kid was in mid run toward the gun while the beast over my shoulder was pressuring me to shoot the child running for the gun. Screaming in my ear I pulled the trigger only to realize a second afterwards that the kid was throwing the gun to us in surrender. I sank to my knees and stayed there. That poor child had at the last moment reached the table, grasped the firearm and then through it at their feet. The child thought that giving the gun up and showing us soldiers that he meant no harm would have saved him. He rose his little hands in the air in surrender right when the bullet sliced through his cranium. My soul had forever changed that day. No, that was the day I found out that I don’t have a soul. There was still women and young men throwing themselves at Major and Scott. I didn’t know if they were scared for their lives and attacking or if they truly believed in their cause or were brainwashed thinking we were there to kill them all which wasn't far from the truth, a truth I had wished i'd known. Lines blurred and I think we were the monsters. I know Major thought he had to based on his biased feelings toward those people... but everyone? Why so ruthless? He made me kill more. I could have told him no but that the last man who defied orders is still M.I.A.. Scott emptied two more homes with pleasure. The chopper recon was finally called back once Major was satisfied with the amount of death that bathed his conscious. Jack and Onan had finally reappeared. Inquiring with statements such as ‘I didn’t hear any shots, this is a lot of people.’ I wish Jack would have been there just a few moments earlier. There was a silence amongst the murderers. I nor Scott dare speak up about what they had just taken part in. That feeling hung in the air for sure. So I remained silent. So many were lying dead as we remaining five men climbed onto the aircraft that was awaiting standby. Jack moving onto his seat kept asking me what was wrong and at the time I just couldn’t tell him. Major sat in the front next to a civilian pilot that I had never seen before acted like nothing had happened while Scott had sat with a huge grin on his face. I was changed forever that day. All the death was seared into my brain. The chopper lifted up and we climbed higher leaving a multitude of bloodied bodies and a town much worse off than it was when we arrived.The sun was setting and the glow from the multitude of flares that illuminated against the orange sky gave off a beautiful glow. The ironic thing is those half dozen or so flares will allow for a retrieval team to come and take their bodies and send them back home to rest while the bodies of our slaughtered victims will lay in the dust and rot. With little to no one left to mourn for them”
We both sit here in silence. I had to recollect myself. I was seething with anger and resentment. The memories physically hurt to think about them. I felt horrible for the child I had killed. For all of those people. If only Jack could have seen any of that. If only i had been the one dismissed to recon the downed chopper. This is what I have left of my sanity. This is my burden to be encumbered by.
The silence seemed to drag on. I sit here in despair while he scribbles and scratches on his clipboard. The clock kept ticking. I took another sip of water. I’m dying for a cigarette. I just want to go home.
“Okay well this is enough for one day,” The poor man had information overload and nothing about it was cheerful. We got up and walked to the door and he opened it. “I’ll see you next week Michael.” We shook hands and I turned and exited his office.
I exited the building on a gray and wet day. No cars on the road and no pedestrians walking to and fro made the atmosphere scarce. The hazy sky resembled my emotions, or lack thereof. The meeting had left me emotionally drained. Depressed didn't even begin the describe the gut wrenching skeletons that hang in my closet. A step off the curb and across the shiny wet pavement is the parking lot I need. I reach in my pocket fishing for my keys. Halfway across the street a yellow neon sign catches my eye. Blinking almost annoyingly so.
ZAGG'S PUB
I let my keys sink back into my pocket and to the bar I went. The block was a long wall of shops and the pub was the fourth down fr
om the parking lot. I opened the door sounding a bell. Dimly lit with only four hanging lights running down the middle of the establishment, I admired the stained brick walls adding the 1930's feel just before the odor of cigarette smoke stings the nostrils. Leather covered bar stools line the oak bar on the left. Black leather booths line the right leaving just enough space to walk in the middle isle. The bar should be the quickest source of numbing my pain.
I take a seat and look around. An older couple sit in the furthest booth with their spiked tea in hand. A middle aged man sits at the end of the bar, opposite myself. The bartender, clad in blue jeans and a black t-shirt with a towel draped over his shoulder is mixing a drink. My head lolls and I already start to reminisce about the conversation moments earlier with the shrink. A tear wells in my eye as I ponder my actions.
"I can help you?"
I don't think anyone can help me. I look up and find the bartender in front of me with his large stomach leaned against the bar. "Bourbon, no ice. I’ll take a pack of reds."
The rotund man returns with a grunt and the glass thumps upon the table, he mumbles something about keeping an eye on the tab. I take the glass give it a swirl and swallow the liquid in on drink. I set it down and he pours another. I slam two more and after pouring the fourth one I wave him away. I light a cigarette with house matches lying on the bar. For the first time in a few days I take a huge draw off of the cylinder trying to inhale all of those memories away. I sit, sipping and contemplating. I try to focus on tomorrow. I have to work. I think of my average life's small tidbits in an effort to switch my train of thought. I think we're taking Jack's old jalopy to the park. Jenna comes home from her mom's house tonight. I'll have to get her ready for work. I check my watch. Anne should get off work in about an hour. I take another sip, the alcohol is starting to relax the nerves and my mind switches gears. The loosened change is welcomed.
No Time To Mourn Page 3
