Escape.

Escape.

Wiping the perspiration from the back of his,with the sandy coloured piece of cloth.He looked out over the flatland through the shimmering heat.It wasn’t much better with the binoculars,they being difficult to hold in his damp hands.
As his men crouched down,waiting for the order.There was no time to ruminate,and think of the past.Too much going on here.To much to do.The possibility of death never too far away.That’s the way he wanted it.He wanted his mind full,so it would have no time to think,to look back with regret.The khaki shirt sticking to his back.The heat draining him of physical and mental energy.
Even with all the activity,his mind would give him no peace,no pleasure,no rest from the toture.In the quiet of the night.All alone,the alcohol and tranquilizers affording him little,if any peace.So many what if’s.How could he have done things differently.Peaceful sleep near enough impossible.It was the anger that drove him.The bitterness and unfairness of it all.If only the government had not interfered.If only they didn't stand with America,and American policies around the world.

‘What we will do sarge ?’

‘Sit tight for now’, he responded,without taking his eyes off the barren flatlands ahead of him.The men respected and liked him.His bravery unquestioned.His leadership qualities evident and to the fore.More leadership qualities than those higher up the ranks.But he was a foot soldier,just like one of them.Leading his men from the front.Not from the safe confines of a secure armoured den,far from enemy lines.Far from where the real action was.
As he watched for movement in his field of view,his mind wandered once again to London.To those few horrific days,that warm mid July.When so many lives of the victims,and their families were forever changed.His own life among them.He had to do something to assuage his grief,his sadness.The bitterness and the anger.He had tried prayer long enough,that never helped.Alcohol And tranquilizers helped somewhat to dull the deep sadness he felt in his soul.He wasn’t the political type,who would have ventured into a political career,and what real power does a politician have if not leader of the country.
Speaking to the psychological councillors the government provided helped a little,as sharing one’s troubles with another is bound to.But these avenues did not give vent to his desire for revenge,to hurt and hunt down those he deemed responsible,or their masters.
Is the army not made for people like him.People who underneath the civility of it all.Underneath all the marching bands on parade days.Underneath the civic work they do around the world.Rescuing refugees.Protecting the country from the importation of drugs.Looking after our fishing rights.
Underneath all that,people join the army to kill others.He knew it.The government ministries knew.But nobody acknowledged that,not even to themselves.He was glad that avenue was open to him.The army more than happy to accept him.Overlooking his less than stellar psychological evaluation.His rise through the ranks reasonably rapid.The army knew an enthusiastic leader of men,when they saw one.Always one to volunteer for the more dangerous missions around the world.The top brass were impressed with his bravery,and his more than cavalier attitude towards the rules of war.If they needed a job done,even if discreetly.Perhaps away from the eyes of interfering government ministers,and the old fashioned army hierarchy.He and his small group,called renegades by some,were the men to call on.

As the sun began to move slowly towards the horizon,he was grateful for a break from the sweltering heat.Turning to his men in the shallow trenches behind him.

‘We’ll move forward toward the village at 24:00hrs.We’ve got our orders.Take all the men,from teenagers to old men,and then burn the village,leave no one alive’.

It was the thought of burning the village and destroying everyone in it,gave him some form of peace.A fitting repayment of revenge.It eased his soul somewhat.His shoulders dropped.His jaw unclenched,form where he had been holding it tightly.It would help assuage his anger.His desire for revenge,as it had done in the past,on the other missions he had completed.

It burned just above his left eye,where it entered his head.The force knocked him off his feet.His body fell heavily to the ground.The enemy sniper,over a mile away,double checked with his binoculars,to make sure his shot was true.He took his weapon and jumped into the back of the pick up,and the admiration of his fellow soldiers.as the pick up roared away at speed.
His men gathered round him.Some returned fire across the flatlands,while the medic attended to his injury.But he knew with one look it was pointless.
As he walked slowly across the meadow,in the warm sunshine.In the distance he saw a figure.A somewhat familiar figure,if he was not mistaken.He smiled,and she smiled in return.

‘It’s you’,he said,as he laughed and smiled.
                                                      She smiled in return…….reached for and took his hand in hers………..