Forever

Heart pounding.

The blood rushes through my veins as I hear gunshots all around.

And then

silence.

As I peer across the vast wasteland I see robins

chirping. Singing cheerfully.

And flower blossoms exploding like fireworks;

Red. Violet. Gold.

Sunshine caressing each blade of crisp grass

as the wind softly murmurs through the air.

I see the trees sway, dancing,

like I danced with mama.

A voice like honey hums in my ear-

a fellow soldier singing.

His soft words can barely be heard, but the tune is unmistakable;

“My Country ‘tis of thee, sweet land of Liberty…”

I join in.

Suddenly our whole battalion is whispering the words that have come to mean so much.

Whispering, while tears burn our cheeks.

 

Our time had come.

We crawl out of the trench, one by one, white knuckles on our guns.

Crossing my heart.

Vivid images of my beautiful wife flash through my mind.

And Thomas. Only two years old.

How I would love to hold him in my arms right now.

With every arduous step I hear a deafening drum beat getting louder

until I realize

it is my own heart.

The tension is tangible as we advance towards the enemy.

Each new step could be my last.

 

All at once I hear a deafening noise and see a body fall.

Like a collapsing monument Patrick falls.

More gunshots ring out.

He stumbles onto the ground as blood drenches his uniform.

My knees go weak and everything around me becomes a blur.

I slump onto the ground beside him.

“Leave!” he cries, “Leave me!”

My mind tells me to go save myself.

My heart tells me otherwise;

A soldier. A friend. A husband. A father, lies on the ground next to me.

What if that was me?

I turn him over on his back.

The gaping hole in his leg reveals itself

with the black bullet still imbedded.

It takes all of my strength to heave him over my shoulder and carry him to safety.

Wincing in pain as blood drips onto the ground, he pleads, “Just leave me here”

But I keep marching on.

 

I step over pools of blood and walk by motionless bodies strewn on the ground.

A twitch. A sob. A moan.

There must be hundreds.

My eyes are stinging as they well with tears.

The load getting heavier, I am ready to fall and surrender myself.

I feel someone grab my hand.

Jolting awake, I see my boy Thomas, now 12, staring me in the face.

Still trembling, I feel the tears trickle down my cheeks.

I glance across the room at a handsome photograph of Patrick-

In Loving Memory beautifully inscribed in the corner.

Although 10 years have passed, this day remains etched in my memory

as vivid as if it happened yesterday.

I have suffered the loss of a friend, but with my family huddled close around me,

I will forever be proud to serve in the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave.

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