Pew Pew Pew

They say our choices play a fair role into what makes us who we are today. This was what's been running in my head as I stood with my bag in tow, waiting to board the plane.

We're finally going home.

Our stay in the FOB Griffin in the Faryab province of Afghanistan had been bland---frequently battling not talibans, but mostly boredom. For the entirety of our time here, the most action that we got was a couple of pot shots here and there. If we're lucky, a mortar shell would land somewhere near our base. It was just two weeks before our departure when things took an unexpected turn.

"Time to go back stateside, boys." Our Sergeant's voice pulled me out of my thoughts. We got onboard the AC130 and strapped ourselves in our seat. Some guys are catching up on their z's, some bantering. The excitement about finally going back home is a tangible thing inside the aircraft.

Despite my obvious fatigue, I found these past couple of weeks restless. The moment I close my eyes, I can see his face, riddled with emotions I can hardly list down. His eyes wide, gleaming with a mixture of fear and panic were almost pleading. And if I try, I could almost relive the exact moment it happened.

I remember the sun was high that day as it is today. I remember grunting about having to do another scouting mission. A road under construction, a scorching sun, the blistering wind, a rocky terrain. We only have the company of our squad, our guns a heavy burden in the sizzling heat. It was just like every other day... or so we thought.

As we reached the area of operation, we---with exemption of the driver and the gunner---hopped off the MRAP. We immediately went into formation with our Lieutenant as out point guy and our Captain watching over the troop from behind.

A few meters into the field, our Lieutenant ordered us to stop. "Hold up, I think I saw something," he had said as he started veering off formation. "There, in the bushes."

"Make sure your eyes aren't playing games with you in this heat again, Lieutenant," said our Captain. The men laughed but I took notice on how his hand held his rifle, the long nozzle of the M14 pointing directly to one of the distant bushes. In our vantage point, nothing appears to be odd. I might've almost shrugged it off like the rest if not for our Lieutenant's stance visibly tensing up as he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"What's wrong, Lieutenant?" 

"Land mine," he answered.

"Thought this place was cleared?"

"Thought so, too." Our Lieutenant was smiling but his face was tensed. Beads of panic betrays his wide grin. "So, Abdul, how much time do I have left?"

Our deminer smirked, observed, and answered, "I'm guessing it's an S-Mine since it didn't blow you up instantly. I'll just have to defuse it but until then, you'll have to make Santa proud. You'll live longer, unfortunately."

"Ah, a bouncing betty," our Captain said. "Don't see much of it around here anymore. I'm afraid you'll have to do the hardest thing you've ever done, Lieutenant: to stay still."

"I'll take it," Lieutenant answered with another of his wide grins. "As long as I get to kiss my wife again, hell, I'll take it."

Our deminer rushed towards him but as he was already kneeling down, our Lieutenant held out a hand to stop him.

"Take cover! It's an ambush!" Our Lieutenant swiftly held his rifle back up and opened fire into the bushes.

In a split second, all hell broke loose. We took cover just as bullets came down on us like hellfire. The gun on our hands felt less than a burden now than it was a blessing. We started to open fire as the talibans were moving in. I took a bullet in my right leg but the adrenaline overrode the pain. The recoil of the gun in my hand felt like it shook all my senses into high alert with every shot.

The gunner lights up his 50 cal to cover us but he can only cover enough. Our deminer was the first to rush towards the MRAF, leaving the Lieutenant in the open space with not a chance on mobility. I stayed there, a few meters away taking cover in a small ditch. I saw how a bullet went through the Lieutenant's left arm. Among all the other bullets that he'd taken in within the few moments he stood there, it was the one that had the most impact. It's most likely from a Kalashnikov(AK47) with its' 7.62 caliber bullet, the perfect weapons of mass destruction as it took more lives than it had saved. He still did his best to keep his weight on the trigger.

As the impact swung his body around, I saw how his eyes found mine. They haunted me then and the haunt me still. It was a perfect whirlpool of a chaos of emotions. Devastation, frustration, agony. Agony, but not just with the collection of bullets that pierced their way into his body but also the agony of knowing that he probably won't be able to kiss his wife again like he said he would. It was an agony that struck me harder than the bullet in my leg. I could only imagine how his wife would feel. How he felt. Moreover, there was hope in his eyes. In an ocean of sickening madness, there remained hope. The abyss of oblivion was a perfect contrast to that little light, though despite it being nothing more than a fading echo. Maybe, despite all rationality, he still hoped to see the people he cared for. 

Maybe I could've helped him.

Maybe, just maybe, I might have done something.

'Maybes' hurt just as much as 'Almosts'.

But my feet were rooted on the ground and I couldn't do anything. Coward as I may be called but as much as I wanted to help him, I shouldn't be making any reckless choices. My life is no longer just my own. So, I lie there, unmoving, feeling helpless as I watch another impact throw him off balance causing the land mine to go off. The explosion forced us to keep our head covered. Shrapnels flew in every direction and with them were the hopes and dreams of someone we knew.

I remember the ringing sound in my ears after the explosion. I remember shooting a few more rounds until we dashed in and carried what was left of our friend, our Lieutenant, our brother. I remember heading towards the MRAF with everyone else despite our injuries.

I remember trying to sleep the following day to no avail.

The green light on the AC130 lit up. The plane is landing. I grabbed my things and surely, a few moments later, we're walking down the AC130 ramp. I can see a few soldiers taking a couple of silver caskets from the plane.

After paying my dues, I headed off to a less-crowded place at the tarmac. It was then that I noticed a little girl sprinting towards me.

"Daddy! Daddy, we're here!"

I might not have made the most courageous choice but I'm glad that I still get to go home to see my daughter's smiling face. That memory might haunt me for all my years but I'll make sure to counter it with good memories of my daughter. She already lost a parent. I can't bear to see her lose another one.

As I've said, my life is no longer just my own.  

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[A/N: Sorry for the title. I originally wrote it for something in class and I submitted it with "Pew Pew Pew" as the title just for fun because I thought it would've been a good contrast with how serious the content is. I'l try to think of a proper title.]