The Prancer and the Super Hero

War.

Bullets flew in steady streams of death's cold destruction over the hill and into the early morning sky. With a ferocity second only to the intent of their murderous carrier's heart's they pierced through cloth, skin, flesh, bone... and then again through flesh, skin and cloth before becoming birds free to fly out into the red mist of the sky as they so desired.

"Forward!" screamed the officer behind them.

"Back!" screamed the soldier in his final breaths as the bullets pierced his back.

Blood sprayed through the air as though it was rain falling from the sky. Lead poisoned the ground. Screams echoed through the sky.

In the midst of the chaos... a foxhole,

In it: A man dieing, a father crying and a husband mourning.

Blood rushing from the left side of his waist and a crumpled letter in his hand he stood, face cringed, taking deep breaths to steady his heart as he lost the will to live.

He peeked over his fox hole to gaze up the fortified hill before and observe just how high was the the top... the location he needed to reach. It was hopeless.

A tremor shook him as he lurched over and darkness surrounded his eyes. Blood dripped from his lips as the ringing permeated his mind.

He had lost a lot of blood.

His gaze drew painfully focused on the bow stained paper in his hands. He recalled the words perfectly:

"I will love you, forever and always, darling. Just please... please... come back to me. Come back to Mackenzie and I. We need you.

Stay Strong."

His heart sank in his chest as tears began to streak the dirt and mud staining his face. Images of a young woman passed through his eyes as she was giving birth, raising a child and then walking them down the Isle to a groom- alone.

The movie played in his mind like a crown of thorns encircling his head.

Suddenly, a voice, as calming as a whispering wind spoke to him in parts

"Come back...

Mackenzie and I...

We need you."

His training engaged.

His mind was opened.

The warrior within his heart called on his strength as his eyes opened wide.

He breathed deeply and steadied his mind.

"Returning home .... is an honor I... must... win!"

He growled fiercly as he he released his wound and used one arm to lift himself out of the fox hole and directly into the blaze of gun fire, using his rifle to respond in mind.

The bullets focused on his silhouette with the sun coming over the hill.

Just as he gained his footing his helmet came off with a sudden and terrifying ping; a sniper no less. His head exposed, the blood and sweat drained from his as he was filled with the heart of man seeking after love and a soldier performing the art of War.

As smoke jumpd up from the ground around him as if pockets of hell reaching out to claim him he began a dead sprint into the enemy lines- fearless and selfless as his goal to survive roared like a lion and struck fear into his enemy.

In an outstanding run on the hill he charged forth- M16 spraying judgement into the pillbox surrounding him. The other men who were wavering on the brink of complete desertion watched in awe as he took small shots to the legs, pushed on, and began breaking the enemy line.

They soon followed.

He stood on the hill then, as he reached the climax, looking back at them. He raised the banner of his nation and waving the flag he'd found fallen at the top for all the men to see he began to weep.. he had won. He could survive. He could return home.

This is Thomas Sweeney

- the Husband, the Father, the Marine.