Tag Teamed Into Hell 2
Letemdangle
Published
04/26/2011
I don't know battle or people trying to kill me. I wish I could pretend
to do battles where people didn't get hurt and I was a brave man who
helped save a life. I have saved some lives, but I never had to
sacrifice or put at risk my own life. Actually, I did, but I didn't
worry about it.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
No shit, there I was: On patrol in Iraq in an up-armored truck near the outskirts of Kirkuk. That's when it happened. Suddenly, we hit an IED and began taking small arms fire! That's when my training kicked in and I went on auto-pilot. Thinking quickly, I grabbed the aid bag from the medic and gave myself seven doses of morphine. It didn't do much to help the situation, but after that I didn't really give a shit.
That's when I saw a sand devil. Not the kind that we just hunkered down to, but this one hummed and smiled at us. It played a familiar tune. It danced out in the distance taunting us. I knew, this was my gateway to heaven, if I could only take a hit that bled me to death.
I didn't give a shit where the shot came from. There was more to life then Coca Cola and Cheesy Pizza. My mates took cover as bullets filled the air. I watched their brains make splatters against the canvases. I marveled at the simplicity of their patterns and imagined what my brains would look like under the same circumstances.
One man, who lost both legs. I mean, lost his legs, nowhere in sight. Stood up on his torso and told a joke. Told a joke. Told a joke.
I find no humor, no lies or truths, no lessons, no reason in any God damned bullet flying, pieces of sanctimonious war in this story or any story ever conceived.
Then it arrived, a bullet train, right through my eye. The pain was good, I felt alive. I inhaled my hot blood through my nose and felt it trickle down my throat. It puddled on my teeth and tasted so fucking sweet.
A grenade picked me up and like a giant hand spun me into the air. There below me twisted souls who looked just like me. It was humanity. There below me, humanity. It was me, the blown off heads, the splattered brains, the old man hiding in the house, gone insane. I laughed and hit the ground. The Sun was down the bullets stopped and the children cried.
Do not ever think for one moment a war can be won, for when you see the face of death, it is the faces of all your children and your children's children yet to feel the agony of the bullet train.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
No shit, there I was: On patrol in Iraq in an up-armored truck near the outskirts of Kirkuk. That's when it happened. Suddenly, we hit an IED and began taking small arms fire! That's when my training kicked in and I went on auto-pilot. Thinking quickly, I grabbed the aid bag from the medic and gave myself seven doses of morphine. It didn't do much to help the situation, but after that I didn't really give a shit.
That's when I saw a sand devil. Not the kind that we just hunkered down to, but this one hummed and smiled at us. It played a familiar tune. It danced out in the distance taunting us. I knew, this was my gateway to heaven, if I could only take a hit that bled me to death.
I didn't give a shit where the shot came from. There was more to life then Coca Cola and Cheesy Pizza. My mates took cover as bullets filled the air. I watched their brains make splatters against the canvases. I marveled at the simplicity of their patterns and imagined what my brains would look like under the same circumstances.
One man, who lost both legs. I mean, lost his legs, nowhere in sight. Stood up on his torso and told a joke. Told a joke. Told a joke.
I find no humor, no lies or truths, no lessons, no reason in any God damned bullet flying, pieces of sanctimonious war in this story or any story ever conceived.
Then it arrived, a bullet train, right through my eye. The pain was good, I felt alive. I inhaled my hot blood through my nose and felt it trickle down my throat. It puddled on my teeth and tasted so fucking sweet.
A grenade picked me up and like a giant hand spun me into the air. There below me twisted souls who looked just like me. It was humanity. There below me, humanity. It was me, the blown off heads, the splattered brains, the old man hiding in the house, gone insane. I laughed and hit the ground. The Sun was down the bullets stopped and the children cried.
Do not ever think for one moment a war can be won, for when you see the face of death, it is the faces of all your children and your children's children yet to feel the agony of the bullet train.
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