Eyes of the Dead

Chapter 2

"A fellow soldier of mine once told me a story" began the staff sergeant, pacing in front of us in the deployment building "a man fires a rifle for many years, and he goes off to war for just as long. When he comes home, he knows that he can't ever have the same privileges as us. Anything normal he could have wanted like a family, to have a wife or even raise his kids, he knows he will always be in that place... forever a monster"

The room fell quiet because the staff and officers around us stopped moving, all wanting to hear this beautifully sad story. He looked around and in his eyes he was taken aback to his days fighting for the country, startled back to reality when a passing officer slammed his office door shut.

The staff sergeant looked at the ground opening and closing his eyes for a few seconds, then clearing his throat and looking back up at us. The pain was evident in his face for a split second, until he put up his walls again and hid away his emotions.

Most of the recruits in our group were newbies –or plebs as we liked to call them, even if they didn't know what it meant- or previous soldiers, such as myself. But one thing we all had in common was the desire to shoot the bullets again and to feel the fear in the enemy's' hearts.

"Get your sorry asses to the filing desks in section Alpha 15 Charlie 23, and don't forget your goddamn death papers" The staff sergeant belted, making my adrenaline begin to run inside my blood.

I never realised how much I could miss the death and destruction.

Without hesitation we all marched off and began running in time for the full forty minutes across the base. My heart pounded in my ribs but I didn't care anymore, I was back where I belonged and nothing was going to tear me away from here again.

Some of the other plebs next to me dropped behind and caught up later but all of us 'old-timers' kept pace, never once stopping or giving up to catch our breaths.

We passed by the barracks where we were –the old timers that is- staying until the end of our training. It used to be horse stables so the smell of old hay and wet dust hung in the air of our rooms

"Where is the rest of your flight recruits?" shouted the female officer waiting for us. She had her raven black hair tied back in an impeccable bun, with her uniform crisped and starched within an inch of its life.

"Some of the recruits fell behind ma'am" replied the girl next to me.

"Well go back and get them" the officer ordered "would you leave them behind in enemy territory? Fuck off"

We managed to find all the recruits, possibly within a few minutes of being yelled at. Some of the younger recruits had passed out along the way while others walked around completely lost.

Returning to the PLTOFF as quickly as possible we were immediately greeted with three bushmasters harbouring their own loot.

"Alright now that everyone is here" a male officer began "I am Flying Officer Crowler, step out if you've been in the armed forces before"

Out of the eighteen of us, ten stepped out of the ranks and formed up in front of him. He came past us with the female PLTOFF and asked us questions like 'how long in service?' and 'what rank were you previously?'... Until he got to me.

He stopped in front of me and looked down and my 5ft 4 figure, making my blood burn with anxiety on what he would ask me.

"Why are you back?" he asked. I blinked a couple of times and broke from attention to answer his question.

"I'm sorry Sir, why wouldn't I be back?" I replied, sounding dead serious in my question. He regarded me with a fondness I'd not seen for a long time, and hesitantly handed me a pair of muddy rank slides wrapped around with dog tags. My dog tags...

"Sir, where did you find these?" I asked stammering as my words trailed off.

I looked at the tags that were coated in the black mud of kuitpo forest, breathing in the scent of pine as he handed them to me. My sergeant slides were muddy and cracked, but to me they could've been perfectly starched and ironed for all I cared. I had lost them while the search and rescue team dragged me out from the pile of dead bodies. I could never find them when I looked through my reports and inventory files.

"I was in your flight, you were my commander in the final battle of OP Green Eagle" he answered, stunning me in my thoughts.

"But all my soldiers died" I stammered "I watched all of them be blown to bits on the battlefield, I was the reason so many men and women died"

"Well I'm not dead, so I guess you're wrong sergeant" he replied, chuckling a little to keep the tears from flowing "and it wasn't your fault sergeant, no one knew what was going to happen"

"You know Sir, I have blamed myself for all of those deaths for three years now and I've tortured myself over and over with that knowledge" I admitted, shuddering as a hand next to me touched my shoulder.

Looking at the dog tags I thought back to all the boys and girls fighting with me, the sound of the bullets and bombs, the smell of fresh mud falling over us from explosions and how they protected me from further harm beyond death.

The battle of green eagle was one of the most horrific defeats our air force had ever seen. I think the death count reached three or four million soldiers on our side alone, but sometimes I fear it was wasted. The enemy had us pinned in kuitpo forest, barricading the tunnels we built to get in and out safely, and sending snipers in to kill us as we slept.

My flight woke up to screams and bullet shots coming from the camp next to us, and before we had time to go help, the enemy launched the biggest bomb I'd ever seen. It sounded like thunder was all around us with a giant fiery ball lighting up the midnight sky.

Then they came for us. We fought tooth and nail to not let them win and in the end all 500,000 of us (well 499,998 excluding me and the FLGOFF) perished in the light of that bomb. The enemy strapped themselves with it, shot at us and if that didn't work then they shot at each other to detonate the bombs.

From the report I saw coming home, we were outnumbered 50 to 1 in that battle and nearly all of the soldiers that were sent in with us died in that forest. Sometimes I think death would have been more preferable than what happened to me. I was trapped beneath layers of dirt and decomposing soldiers, with no food, water or bullets so I was dead either way. According to the report, I was there for two weeks and when they found me I was half my normal size, malnourished and on the point of death.

I promised myself and Liz that would never happen again, not in this life or the next. But promises are broken every now and again...