Danger Line

When a man joins the military, he doesn’t fully realize what he’s gotten himself into. He may have some vague ideas based on stories he’d heard from his daddy or his granddaddy and assumes that it’s all heroics and that nothin’ can touch him. Nothin’ could ever harm him. Yeah, he might get away with a few battle scars he can show off, but, in his mind, he would definitely be there to show them off. He would definitely be there to share his stories to his daughter, son, nephew or niece.

I was that man once, naïve to think that way, but every newbie does it. It seems stupid that, now, I’m thinking about this; that now is when I realize, completely and fully realize the consequences.

When I decided to enlist, I did it for family. My wife and daughter deserved to be safer. My friends and neighbors deserved to be safer. I was ready to give that to them. The day I was being initiated, they asked me if I was ready to give my life for my country and I replied “Sir, yes, Sir!” with a proud salute, just as I had been taught. I said I was ready, but did I even know what that meant?

It had all been normal just a few minutes ago. My commanding sergeant signaled for us to go forward and the three of us did. I hid behind a piece of brick wall that had once been a part of someone’s home then turned around, signaling to my commander that I was going on ahead. He nodded in approval so I rounded the corner, holding my M-16 defensively. When a man came out from behind a pile of rubble, I shot without thinking and he fell to the ground, not looking as he lay there, a large pool of red growing underneath him. I continued on, encroaching on the target. Gunfire was sounding all around, creating chaos and the occasional explosion went off in the distance. We’d all grown used to it because it almost never stopped.

As I continued, I started thinking about my baby girl. She wasn’t much of a baby anymore, after all, she’d be nine soon, but I still remembered her as the small, laughing two year old I bounced on my knee. I wondered how they were holding up without me. I missed them so much.

I couldn’t think about them now. I couldn’t be distracted. I cleared my mind then continued on. This was my last mission before I could return home. I couldn’t shirk my responsibilities while I still had them. Not right before I was almost done with my tour. I’d be hone soon. I’d see them and love them once again, but right now, I had to focus on our mission.

I saw movement out of the corner of my left eye, a man that came out of nowhere, pointing it at my best friend. I ran towards him, yelling at him to look out. I barely even heard the shot before I felt it inside me and I’ll tell ya; nothin’ shocks you like a bullet hole. It was as if all noise and chaos ceased for a few seconds as I looked down and saw a deep red liquid flowing unnaturally quickly through the hole in my uniform, and I knew. Somehow, I knew I wouldn’t be going home. I could feel the damage it had done inside me. It was a curious feeling, knowing that I was shot and that I was going to die. It didn’t hurt at first, shock I’d assume, but then, when the pain did set in, it was like nothing I’d ever felt. My insides were on fire, burning with an intensity hotter than hell. I dropped my riffle and my legs turned to jello, unable to hold my weight and I fell to the ground, looking up at the hot, cloudless sky. I coughed and wheezed, a streak of red streaking from my mouth. The silence became a ringing and I vaguely heard, “Man down! Man down! We need a medic over here!”

I started thinking of my family, remembering their smiles, the water balloon fights we had, the bedtime stories I read to my jovial daughter who asked me to read it again. I remembered the warm hugs they gave me and the nights I’d wake up and Mellie had wedged herself in between me and her mother. And I remembered promising them I’d come back. No matter what happened, without a doubt, I’d come back. I never meant to leave them alone. I never meant to hurt them like this. I thought everything would be okay, that we—my wife and I—we’d grow old together, watch our daughter grow up into a beautiful young woman. I thought I’d be able to give her away when she found that special someone and dance with her, all of that after I’d made sure he deserved her, of course. I thought I’d see her raise her babies, that I’d be there to see them through the good times and the bad. Why now, like this, when I was so close to being there?

I coughed again and a spray of blood erupted from me. I didn’t want to die. Why did I have to die? I said I was ready for this, but I wasn’t. Who was ever truly ready to die, even if it was for a noble reason? What would they say to my wife? What would she say to our daughter? I couldn’t leave, not now. I needed to go home.

“Come on, buddy, you’ll be okay; stay with me. You’ll be okay. You hear me?” The face of my friend, the man I shielded, appeared in my vision but his voice was becoming harder and harder to hear.

I looked at him, coughing and wheezing, and tried to focus on his face. “T-tell my baby girl... that’s it’s... all right.”

“No, no, no, no, no, don’t you start talkin’ like that, now. You’ll tell her yourself. You’ll see that pretty wife and daughter’a yours. Hang in there with me. You’re gonna be fine.” He tried to stop the bleeding but I could see it dripping through his fingers.

My heart was heavier than the weight of the world. We both knew what he said wasn’t true. “P-pro–mise... me. Take care... of th-hem...” I said, trying not to let go before my message was out.

I saw tears in his eyes, even though mine blurred with some of my own. “Damn it! You can’t..!” He paused, not being able to deny it. “...I promise. Okay? I promise.”
I nodded, “Tha-nk... you.” huffed as the pain in my chest became too much to bear. I shut my eyes tightly, grunting in pain as I tried to hold back more coughing. I couldn’t catch my breath and I was getting colder. So cold...

I never had much faith in God, but now I was hoping He would be there for me. I looked back at the sky, seeing something I hadn’t before, and I felt the last, shaking, quivering breath leave my lips.

I rose up and I saw myself laying on the ground, looking haggard and, well, like I’d been through a war, and then, I was with them in the blink of an eye. Everyone was in black, sitting around a casket adorned with a large American flag. My wife and daughter were in the front row, a stream of infinite tears rolling down her face as my daughter looked at the casket with confusion. She kept trying to ask my wife why I was in there and how I’d get home. She was panicking. It broke my heart when my family had to feel this pain. I could feel it. Their pain was my own.

Two soldiers from our battalion came forward and folded the flag which my buddy presented to her on one knee, head bowed. The riffles sounded 21 times, piercing the calm quietness of the graveyard and, garnished in my uniform and purple heart, I saluted them, kissed my wife on the cheek, patted my daughter’s head and marched into the sunset.