RUMBLE IN THE JUNGLE

My PTSD was initially diagnosed in 1996. My PTSD therapist thinks
it’s a good idea to share my war experience, so that’s why I
wrote this story. Physically I left the war behind , but it came
home with me. It never goes away. It comes back in many different
forms, but however, it returns it destroys everything in its path. It
returns through us as anger, anxiety, aggressiveness, emotional
distress, memory loss, hopelessness, isolation, sleep loss, and
nightmares.

It was after I
returned from the war, the nightmares began. I haven’t slept
through the night for a long time. My flashbacks are getting worse as
well. They are so easily set off. A car backfiring, and suddenly I’m
back in the jungle.

The recurring
nightmare.

The jungle around us
was now unnaturally silent. We exchanged worried glances. I felt
sick. I was paralysed by fear. I braced for the ear-splitting sound
of gunfire and explosions, but it didn’t come. We moved as
stealthily as we could through the Jungle. I was At the head of the
team, the point man. I was only five days shy of my nineteenth
birthday, and hoped I would get to celebrate it. I kept the barrel of
my rifle aimed directly to my front as my eyes scanned the jungle
clearing, searching in the twilight for sign of the enemy. I walked
forward, still terrified, with Jackson in tow, followed by Jim Carl,
Roy Clark, the team’s medic, and finally, David Wilson, the rear
man. I studied the jungle in front of me. I could make out a few
tree limbs and foliage but not much more. Everything else was lost in
a maze of black and gray shadow. The cicadas and their insect noises
and an occasional lonely cry from an unseen bird reassured me all was
otherwise quiet. I thought of the birds with fondness, especially
since they were an effective early warning system for anything that
disturbed or threatened us. I studied the surrounding jungle,
decided it was safe, and then walked on down the trail. The snapping
of a twig I stood on resounded through the jungle and I swore at my
own foolishness. To the north, out of our vision, there were other
sounds of people moving furiously. My eyes scanned the jungle
quickly. An illumination flare popped, it floated down on its
parachute, brightening the distant treeline. It swung lazily, a
phosphorescent pendulum.

I constantly swept
the tree’s and The bushes. The flare flickered once, twice, and
was out and it was dark again, not even the moon could be seen.
Another illumination flare popped in front of us. Then all hell broke
out. I'm up on one knee firing. “Back!” I scream. “Move back!”
to my left I hear “I’m hit! Oh God! I’m.” Wilson cried, as he
dropped his weapon, then wordlessly slumped forward on to the ground.
Clark started to run to Wilson just as a bullet ripped deep into his
chest. Death was in the air all around us. I was about to shout again
when a grenade exploded to my left, sending hot, burning shrapnel
fragments into my face. The enemy were now only feet away from us, so
close that I heard them shooting our wounded team members, execution
stile. The mocking laughter of the enemy soldiers wake me from the
nightmare. I sit up, covered in sweat, Trembling like a small child.
I throw the covers off and sit at the edge of the mattress. I just
sit, head down and crying. I get up and move to the bathroom. I close
the door behind me and turn on the water, splashing some on my face.
I grab a towel and dry off. I put my hands over my ears, but I cannot
stop the cries for help. Over- whelmed, I drop to my knee’s. Then
In an instant, I’m back in the present.

I went and got
myself a coffee, sat at a table in the kitchen,and used the
computer. I was looking at a screen that displayed everything you
needed to know about Brazil , from street maps to images of hotels
and booking facilities for travel or theatre tickets. There was even
a route plan where you actually walked down a road as if you were in
a game. I booked a flight for Brazil one-way. I’d pay for it with
cash at the airport tomorrow. A chopper goes by over head,, and
suddenly I’m back in the jungle again.

My hunter’s sixth
sense suddenly came alive.  Something was wrong!  There was
none of the usual night sounds.  Where were the crickets and
other insects?  Everything was deadly quiet.  We were in
danger, and we knew it.

We began to hear men
talking in hushed tones and the occasional sounds of metal striking
metal.  Now we knew for certain The hunters had become the
hunted. We made very little noise, but each crackle of a dead leaf,
each snap of a twig, echoed through our minds like a cannon shot. I
could now make out the face of each man on the team, and I knew the
fear I saw was only the reflection of my own.  There was also an
anxiousness that came from the realization that we had to move, and
move fast! Our eyes scanned everywhere, trying to take in every
detail as quickly as possible. There was no sound: no insects, no
birds, nothing.  Then a movement just ahead, under the brush,
caught my eye.  I froze.  A dozen birds flushed just ahead,
flying past us as if we weren’t even there. We were up and
running.  We could hear the nervous chatter of the enemy behind
us as we broke brush.  Stealth no longer mattered.  We were
running for our lives.

I lowered my head
and dug in as hard as I could, trying to keep up with my team-mates. 
I was near panic, almost of losing sight of them. We moved through
the forest at a ground-eating lope that worked our upper bodies as
much as our legs. I fought for breath, ignoring the gripping pain in
my side.  Rounds were still popping over our heads, as the
confused enemy soldiers fired blindly in our direction.  Bark
flew from a tree next to me.  Bullets dug furrows in the ground
at my feet, but I kept running.  They were in hot pursuit. As
we ran deeper into the forest, I expected every step to be my last. 
A lot of weapons were being fired at us from behind.  Death was
in the air all around us. We ran like the wind, and the gap between
the enemy and us widened. The only sound I heard now was my own
gasping and the blood pounding.  My chest began to feel
painfully tight.  My heart felt like it was in my throat. 
My legs grew heavy, and I began to realize that today might be my
last day on earth. I was scared of death, but death itself couldn’t
keep me from running for my life.

We had been running
for an hour still hanging tightly together. Finally I saw the rest of
the team stop ahead of me.  They were trying to make contact
with base and report that we were in contact and trying to evade. I
could see Jackson talking on the radio.  The base was now aware
of our situation and was coming to help. Jackson reported that we
were only a short distance from our pickup point.  While
struggling to get my breath, I watched our backtrail for any sign of
our pursuers.  Soon I spotted movement among the shadows of the
trees.

Something moved
again and then blended into the dark shadows.  Then I spotted
him.  It appeared to be the same man who always appeared first
when the enemy closed on us.  He had to be their tracker. 
I had to kill him. I leaned against a large tree.  Wiping the
sweat from my eyes,   I got him in my sights, and squeezed the
trigger-he dropped to the ground dead. It was time to move again.
Now we would really have to run. 

We could hear the
heavy whopping of rotor blades as an approaching Huey came in fast. 
There was no other sound like it.

as Clark ran past me
screaming, “You coming?”  He didn’t have to ask twice. 
I was up and running. We piled aboard. My momentum nearly carried me
out the opposite door of the Huey.  The ship lifted, dipped
toward the forest as it pick up forward speed, then rose above the
trees and was whereupon was Jackson, shit we left him behind!