Creepypastas

The Soldier

If you enjoy your life, don't read any further.

I'm not even sure that I'm allowed to talk about this, but what the hell. About two and a half years ago, I was deployed to Tallil in the southern area of Iraq with B CO. 1/142 BSB. Doing convoy security for both Third Country Nationals and KBR, a civilian contracted company; and of course, our own trucks. There is one thing that can be said for Iraq, it's filled with a lot of nothing. Nothing, and some sand thrown in for a little something to look at.

I was a gunner at the time, which made it my responsibility to watch out over the expanse of empty sands that was Iraq. Most of the time we would find ourselves rolling down long, perfectly straight roads carved into the desert like a scar from some giant surgeon's scalpel. I hated it. We all did. But what was worse was driving these same stretches of road at night.

The curtain of darkness cast upon the already lifeless desert made the land seem more dead then it already was. Every time we got to wherever it was one or more of our troops who'd managed to stay awake the whole trip would tell tales of the strange things they had seen on the journey. Strange lights in the sky moving to fast to be ours. Sometimes even following us. These stories were common amongst all of us at the time. Even I had my stories about the lights we used to see on those long night trips. But that's not the point of this. Who's interested in UFOs anymore?

What I'm talking about is a story that everyone had back then. It was a long stretch of road that went on for an hour. At least it was supposed to... I can't tell you where it was. Not only was I never really informed the locations of the roads we drove, being a simple grunt at the time, but when we reported our event, we had a visit from people who clamed they were with U.S. Air Force Intelligence section. Which was more than confusing to the lot of us seeing as how the area was an Army area of Responsibility. This stretch of road was sixty five miles long, easily only an hour long drive when you factor in our Limit was 55MPH and 65 MPH catch up speed, and driving it during the day it always was, but there were times at night when this would change inexplicably. It was very early in my days of running convoys. We were headed into Baghdad. I recall it clearly.

Feeling a lull coming over me, I slammed back another Ripit, ignorant to the tales of this road at the time, and to the fact that it, the Ripit that is, was forming a pair of kidney stones the size of Pistol rounds I am now dealing with.

"How much longer?" I asked the truck commander. It was one of my first missions out and I wasn't used to any of it yet.

"Well, another hour or so to our next check point," he said and let out a yawn. "Hey Crose, hand me a Ripit."

"Yeah, sure thing boss," I said turning the Turret of the ASV so I could reach the cooler placed by the tirtiary exit.

I got him his Ripit and finished the second half of the six ounce can. I recall it was around that time that Hotel California was playing on the Driver's iPod which was jerry rigged into the internal coms circuit. Feeling bored with the fact that nothing at all was really happening at the time, I spun the turret 360 degrees; looking all around us. Nothing again. I was wide awake now with three cans of Ripit replacing my blood for the time being. I was awake and wouldn't sleep till morning, thanking God that a sand storm turned the roads black that day. I looked at my watch all of that had filled up the span of narry two minutes.

It was then that my brain just went dead; shut down. I found I was snapped to by the voice of the Convoy commander.

"Now passing Checkpoint X-ray," he said sounding like he had a mouth filled with food.

He really did like to eat a lot, and wasn't the most well mannered of men. I looked down at my watch, and had to pose a question to my T.C. upon the observance.