The War Journals: Resistance

It felt like years since I had last taken a shower. I leaned forward with both hands against the wall letting the water flow over me like a torrential downpour. The wound on my arm was searing with pain, but it desperately needed to be cleaned.

  The hot water felt so cleansing, almost as if it were purifying my soul. Washing away the pain, anger, and fear that had been weighing so heavily upon me. I could feel my chest swell, relieved at an opportunity to relax, almost feeling safe. Soon I would lay down and get some rest. Sleep seemed like such a precious treasure to me at that moment. So elusive, yet so persistent it threatened to overcome me at any moment.

  I watched as the dirt, blood, and water coalesced at the drain swirling down into some far off sewage pipes. The water did not care who I was or what I had done, it was indifferent to my plight. It cared not for my uncertainty or the guilt that was slowly overwhelming me.

  I had not hesitated to kill any of those men. Yet, I knew they were soldiers just as I had once been. That they too had a woman who loved them praying for their safe return. Praying that a monster like me would not strike them down in the midst of their youth, robbing them of ever raising their children or growing old with their wives.

  I had taken them from their children, leaving more orphans in this cruel, uncaring world. They would have no one to teach them how to be a good man. To show them that respect is not simply given, that they must become worthy of being respected by their actions.

  For now, they would know no better. They would continue thinking that daddy was just out of town, that someday he would return, he had to. Eventually, as they grew older, the spark of anger would begin to smolder and their souls would burn with rage. Wishing that they could take from me what I had so wrongly stolen from them. They would hope that one day my heart would be so completely shattered as theirs had been. That god would bring ruin upon my life as I done to them.

  Perhaps they would even be justified in wishing for this. After all, these were men I had killed. They were not some hollow shell filled with hate and rage, even though I so badly wanted to think of them this way.

  I did not even know how many lives I had taken so far. Or how many people's deaths, both American and Chinese, I was directly responsible for. I remembered so clearly, that lust for vengeance I had once felt when my friends had been killed in combat. How badly I had wanted to take the lives of those who had struck down my comrades.

  I couldn't help but imagine these men's lives, their families, their homes and all that I had taken from them. It was impossible to defend myself from this guilt, even though I knew they would have killed me had I not been faster.

  So often in my life I had pushed my pain aside in order to keep moving forward. Suppressing hurt feelings or disappointment. Throwing them to the side as if they were a sign of weakness. I knew the guilt I felt that day would last until my dieing day. I would never be able to escape these ghosts. These specters that I had created would haunt my every dream.

  I did my best to compose myself as I toweled off, there was no point in Jesse or Liz seeing this. They were probably still operating in a state of shock. It was likely that was the only thing keeping them going.

  I put on some clothes we had found in the RV, they weren’t a bad fit. Nothing a belt couldn't fix. I'd have to see if there were any extra hiking boots in the dorm areas. My shoes were no good for a long hike. Maybe a few pairs of extra socks also. I remember being a new recruit and wanting nothing more from a care package than a pack of fresh socks. Hell, in the field you could wear down a pack a week.

  The bottle of whiskey slid out of my bag, almost as if it were offering itself to me. Who was I to decline? I took a few swigs, it was hot and tasted like ass, but it would help me get some sleep. We were going to have to head out after I got some rest. I had a feeling it would be a while before I slept in a real bed again.

  Jesse was going to take the last shift, apparently he had found the coffee and drank nearly a whole pot while waiting for me to come back down. He wasn't going to be getting any more sleep, that's for sure.

  So I climbed onto one of the cots with a rifle leaned against the headboard and tried to get some sleep. These beds weren't great but they were a lot better than the cots we had in the field or basic.

  That night I kept dreaming of the Chinese soldier i had questioned. The bullets hitting his head kept replaying over and over. I was sure they were meant for me, they had only missed by inches. I had traded those soldiers lives to let the civilians in the store live. This unknown soldier's sole purpose in the afterlife must have been to torment me.

  I didn't sleep well that night. I'm not sure I even slept at all. I laid writhing, stuck between an unending nightmare and being half awake. I dreamed that I was awake and troops were storming the building. I sprung into action only to find myself sitting up in the bed, covered in sweat.

 

  "Why the hell did you let me sleep so long?" When I awoke it was nearly noon and I was angry. I demanded of Liz and Jesse who were cooking in the commons area.

  "Oh shush, you hadn’t slept in two days" Liz replied.

  "We've got to get moving" I said frustrated to the point my face was getting hot.

  "It's ok" Jesse replied, "Raul called this morning, he heard about a convoy up this way. He said they were long gone and had taken another road into Olympia, but a smaller one was headed up from the opposite direction. He said they're moving slowly, like they're questioning everyone they see."

  "Oh yeah," I replied sarcastically " that makes me feel much better about sleeping all day."

  "Babe, just relax. They're tracking them with traffic light cameras or some crap." Liz said forcefully.

  "Fine, but we can't stay long"

  "Would you just shut up and eat something?" she said laughing at me as she gave me a plate of bacon and shredded hash browns.

  "Too bad we can't take the bacon with us," I said, not completely joking. I'll take the fat and sodium content gladly in return for the pure rich greasy joy that is bacon.

  "You're going to weigh 600 pounds by forty" she replied.

  "So did he say anything else?"

  "Well yeah, but I’m not real sure how to explain it," Jesse said "I bookmarked an article on the sat book that basically sums it up."

  "Ok ill take a look at it in a minute." I said wearily, I wasn’t looking forward to more bad news.