Closing Remarks

“Damn, brother, I don’t know how you’re still carrying that pack.”

“Yeah, I packed a little heavy. Good thing I got years of practice carrying-”

*click*

Ah. I know that sound.

I’ve prayed a hundred times I’d never hear it.

And yet, here it is.

Right under my boot.

I don’t think about the men around me, here to die with me. I don’t think of how far I’ve walked, or how far we were supposed to go. I don’t even think to curse whoever put this mine here. I don’t have time for that anymore.

My father was so happy when I told him I’d enlisted. Every man in my family for longer than we can remember has been a marine. I’d grown up on the wimpier side, so it wasn’t anyone’s expectation for me to carry on the family business, but I wasn’t satisfied with that. I wanted the military to whip me into shape. To make me worthy of my ancestors. To make my father look me in the eyes and see an equal. Do you see me now, Dad? Now that I’ve given my life for my country? And what a glorious death it is, killed by a piece of plastic put in the ground by some guy who will never even see my face. I can’t help but wonder if it was worth it.

My girlfriend was less thrilled. She’d seen this before. Her father fought too. She remembered seeing him leave, headed for some distant land. She remembered the phone calls, hearing about him fighting against “the bad guys”, right alongside Superman and Spider-Man. She remembered the face her mother made when they lowered him into the ground. I promised her I’d never see combat. Then I promised her I’d come home safe. I’d earn my money overseas, enough to get married. Enough to buy a house. Enough for when we had kids. What a moron.

I want to go home. I want to see my dad again, and finally have him buy me a beer on my 21st birthday. I want to give her the life she deserves, or at the very least hold her and tell her it’ll be alright one last time. I want to go back, but I know I can’t. My brain may have recognized the sound, but my body is still moving. To tell you the truth, I’m terrified of what comes next. Death, the final and most terrible adventure, always so distant, now staring me in the eyes. I don’t want to go. I want to stand here forever, living out my days without ever leaving this spot. Better yet, I’d like to turn back time to before I took this step, before I shipped out to this damned sand hill, before I ever agreed to fight, but my momentum can’t be stopped now, I’m already about to take another step. My body has places to be. I guess I do too.

“-your mama.”

*click*