Army Strong

41)Home, bitter home (Final chapter)

-Congratulations, miss Jones!-The president shock my hand, looking me in the eyes.-I don't think this nation will ever be able to thank you enough for your efforts.-He smiled to me. I was still looking at him with a strict expression. He then turned to the mic once again.-One brave woman, an army of rebels and the infinity of the desert...-He looked at me, still talking to the mic.- God was on your side...-He looked back at the crowd- God was on our side! He'll always be for our country is the greatest of nations!-The crowd clapped. I was still just standing there.-Together we are one and we will rise! Miss Jones is a perfect example of what our men and women are worth and for that..-He grabbed a medal and put it on me.-Thank you, soldier. You are the definition of army strong!-The crowd clapped once again.

The sound was deafening. I couldn't feel a thing. It had been 6 months and I still felt like it was all just a dream. I was standing there and it all felt so unreal...

I was a hero back in my hometown. I was a hero everywhere! And oh man, I was so sick and tired of shaking hands of people I didn't even know, congratulating me for something I didn't do, spreading a story that wasn't even real! I just wanted to scream the truth from the rooftops... But I couldn't. I had to much to lose.
Life's a constant war. It never ends... not until it ends you... And during war, first we care for the living and then we handle the dead. My men once meant everything to me. My men were once my family... but my men were dead. I had a family back home,friends, neighbours... People I loved, people I looked after. Living people. And even though I didn't necessarily love all of them more than I loved my team, the fact that their chests were moving and their hearts were beating did put them automatically first on my priority scale. 

Things went south.  I was a bad leader... And unfortunately I wasn't the one paying the price. I lost my entire team to an air strike... From our own side. It happens way more often than they like to admit. That was the story I was told when I woke up in the hospital. That I gave up the wrong coordinates to the base and shit happened... but that's not how I remember it. That's not what happened. That was the story they told me to shut me up. They said they would never reveal the details so I wouldn't be the villain but I was never the villain at all. The truth, what really happened was a mistake... but it wasn't mine. It wasn't my team or my platoon.  It wasn't the sergeant or the captain. It wasn't the army or the minister of defence. No. The mistake came from somewhere way higher. The fault they tried to lay on my shoulders wasn't mine to carry.
I can say there isn't a doubt in my mind. My men died one by one out of dehydration, starvation, exhaustion and blood loss. That I'm 100% sure of. There was no mistaken air strike. There was no air strike at all! I didn't even have communication with the base because they send us out with no support whatsoever! There was nobody backing us up or helping us out! Nobody! All because the president, sitting from his white chair, watching the peaceful blue sky and his perfectly trimmed garden decided help wasn't necessary.  There were no founds. After all we were a small team of trained soldiers which meant we were supposed to be able to survive everything and everyone and even outrun a tornado while swimming against a fucking tsunami! They gave us training, they gave us weapons... why would the president bother to waste more resources on us? After all he wasn't the one chased, tortured, hungry, scared, cold, thirsty... He was perfectly fine sitting in his fine ass chair with this feet over an expensive table. He didn't feel what we felt. And since he didn't need an hand, why would we?

It was a big mistake. The task was too big and even though the team was skilled enough, the numbers outran us. It was a deadly truth to be known in such an unstable period. Our country was going through a political war as well. There were many different views on the current situation of the nation and on how we were handling the problems we had. If the truth was known, the president would be kicked out of his big chair in 2 seconds... So he fed me a lie to make me believe he was doing me a big favor when actually he was just trying to preserve his ass.

And I swallowed it. What else could I do? Fight the system? Man, I was sick and tired of fighting. I just wanted to sit back and relax for a moment! I just wanted to buy a house by the lake and move away from all the fuzz. I was no war hero. I turned into a monster back in no men's land. I turned my back on my own men and let them walk straight towards death.  I was no hero. I was a coward! I was a coward for not even telling the truth about how my men really died! I had to watch all their moms crying to an empty coffin.  They didn't even get to really say goodbye, to see them, kiss them for the last time... Their bodies were lost somewhere in the desert, never to be found... Just like the story of what really happened.  I was a coward and the guilt ate me alive every single fucking night. Every time I closed my eyes, they were all I could see... at first laughing here at home and then falling one by one during the war. But the worst, the absolute worst was seeing over and over again their parents at their funerals... As if it wasn't enough to cry over an empty coffin, the system never really confirmed their deaths. They were given as lost in battle, as missing! And as people were giving their condolences to their families, they kept repeating that they wouldn't lose hope... that they could feel their sons were still alive. That was the most heart breaking thing I ever experienced in my whole life... It was nightmare material every single night.

I couldn't fight the system but I absolutely could not keep living a lie. One day, about one year after serving my oh so dear country, I headed towards the president's office and I put him between the sword and the wall.

-... So! You either tell them the truth or I will! It's enough to get startled by a single fucking noise, it's enough to feel the need to constantly look over my shoulder! I have enough nightmares about what went down back there! I don't need all this guilt weighting me down!-I told him. I was I'm despair. I had slept better under flying bullets than back at home for the last year.

-I understand, miss Jones - He answered after a moment of silence.-Don't worry. I'll handle the issue.- He got up, shock my hand and I once again swallowed it!

I was over the moon! I couldn't believe it was finally over, that the truth would be known! And I couldn't believe because it wasn't true at all! I can't believe after all that happened, I was still that naive...

Not long after, about 3 days later, I got a letter directly from the minister of defence.  As I opened it, I saw the presidential mark on top. The president handled the issue indeed... but he wasn't gonna tell the truth. I put him between the sword and the wall... the motherfucker took my sword and slaughtered me! I wasn't gonna keep my mouth shut... So the only way to keep his lie was by ripping my head off.

"...your services are required immediately. The shipping is by 7 am on Monday.  Good luck,soldier.  Our nation is great.  May God be on your side."

That wasn't a simple convocation... No. It was bigger than that... and they couldn't fool me anymore. Whatever I did, I was a dead woman. I'm pretty sure the price on my head was high... The moment I stepped foot either back at war or in jail, I would have a giant target on my back.

I smiled and sat down. I was always the kind of girl that when sets her mind for something it's easier to chop her head off than to eliminate the idea.

Touché.