Prompt #3A: Silver Lining and Silver Bullets

Diary Entry 135

August 8th, 2013

Now, you can see the smoke, the fire; you run as quickly as you can down the dusty road in your heavy combat boots. As you arrive to the heap of metal with flames shooting out the open windows, you're screaming at the top of your lungs to see if you can get a response, but you're screaming over the screams. They're screaming. You try to snatch open the driver's side to free them from a fiery grave and scorch your hand, realizing that there's nothing that you can do. You're under equipped. Under-experienced. And emotionally compromised. So, you stand there. You stand there and hear the screams, but you try not to listen to them. The chalky air doesn't allow you to cry, but you can feel the wrenching pain in the pit of your stomach. You feel weak and worthless. Helpless. What’s so glorious about witnessing four members of your infantry, your brothers, and get into a vehicle that will hit an IED a few miles down the road?

What's so glorious about war? What's so glorious about having to leave my beautiful wife and child behind in the States while I travel to a foreign country, ridden with disease and crime, not completely sure that I'll come back with bags or in a bag?

Marshall is six now. Lydia sends me videos and pictures of him any time she can. She even sends pictures of drawings that he's done. It's a pleasant surprise, but then the same questions rewind and replay over and over in my mind. Will I be able to see Marshall grow up? Will I be able to see him lose all of his baby teeth? And will I be able to see him experience his first crush? Will I be able to be the father that he needs? How will my absence effect our future relationship?

And what about my wife, Lydia? Her upbringing was so difficult, living in the projects with a mother on drugs and father trying to do anything he could to support them, and now she has a husband in the military and a six year son to raise on her own. I feel like her mother. War is my drug. I deal with it every day, experiencing a certain high from it, but I know it isn't good for me or the people around me. I know it's dangerous, but I part of me doesn't care.

But...

I've gotten to travel because of war. I've gotten to experience the lives of others overseas that I would have never been able to experience because of war. I've met children satisfied with the way that they live, satisfied with what they have. They were wise way beyond their years. I was thankful they were able to share their wisdom with me.

Because of war I know what the true meaning of teamwork, and that it is definitely what makes the dream work. I've learned to trust my brothers, trust their judgment and work together to achieve a goal. I've learned the meaning of courage and leadership, to step up in a time where a leader is needed. To laugh in the face of fear.

And that is the silver lining among the silver bullets.