Luna? No sir i'm a Marine

War, What is it good for

"We finally thought we were safe. We had all made it out alive. They took us back to the base. I had cuts, bruises, broken bones, fractures. You heard what happened so you can kind of guess the state I was in. It was nothing major, I would heal in a few weeks however the mental scares would never fade. But I didn't get that opportunity. They were transporting us to another base where we would be able to be air lifted home. We were attacked on the way. They threw a grenade first. I lost hearing, my vision was blurred, my leg was broken and I had shrapnel damage. They were all affects of the blast."

I was cut off by Luke pulling my completely into his lap. He squeezed my hand in reassurance. I noticed Aaron was comforting Bonnie and Zach was engrossed, hanging on my every word.

I felt like a writer, reading out the first draft of my book to publicists. I went on.......

"I stood up and the pain was excoriating. Staggering and the world spinning around me I drew my weapon and took cover. Long story short I managed to drive us out of there. We had lost 3 people. When we got to safety the last thing I remember was people shouting at me to wake up."

"Then what happened?" Bonnie was still crying although she tried to hide it her tear stained cheeks gave her away.

"I woke up in a hospital bed in the UK. They told me I had been in a coma for several weeks. My body went into complete shut down. They told me I shouln't have survived. They said it was a miracle. I must of had someone looking out for me. I had pushed my body to the limits. I had too many broken bones and fractures to count but the worst was my leg. They told me i'd never walk again. I had been shot in the chest and abdomen. I was then diagnosed with PTSD, hypotension and anaemia as a result of dehydration and malnutrition.

Scott and Dave had come back with me. They were in almost the same condition as me except as it turns out the bullet I had taken saved Scott's life. His body wouldn't have been able to handle it. Dave told me that even after I was shot I dragged Scott to the tank. Apparently I performed CPR and did a lot more than I can remember. I received a Georges Cross. Awarded for acts of the greatest heroism or of the most conspicuous courage in circumstances of extreme danger."

I couldn't help but let out a dry laugh. Heroism my arse. I did what I was trained to do. I survived. I sacrificed nothing. The fallen veterans were the ones who made the sacrifice. They gave up their lives. Mike and a few others had lost limbs due to the grenade. Just because I lived to tell the story and I made it out in one piece i'm some hero? How is that fair?

"I was told my parents had been notified but with also being in the Military for safety reasons we couldn't contact each other, but I was assured they were being updated constantly. I was damaged and now useless to them. I was put on 'sick leave' . Ordered to either stay on the base, abstain from training and missions or leave. I just had to allow myself to heal. The temptation on the base was too strong, I lasted about a week before a senior rank found me at training and well I ended up here."

I hadn't realised I was crying until I felt the tears fall onto my hand. I looked at the clock. That can't be right. It said it was 1am. They had sat in silence and listened to my story for 5 hours.

"Holy crap"
"You are AWESOME"
"I'm going to hug you" and Bonnie did exactly that.

"Uh I don't want to intrude, like you don't have to if you don't want to, I completely understa-" I cut her off, she's blabbering.
"You want to see my scars don't you?" She looked away, ashamed but nodded.

I showed them the bullet wounds, the stab wounds, the scars from my surgeries, and all my other battle wounds. Luke's discontent didn't go unnoticed. He would growl every time one of the boys would look too long or get too close.

I also showed them my dog tags, uniform and medal.

They now know everything. It felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I've never told anyone what happened other than the people who went through it with me.
I feel relieved but there's also that tiny part of me that regrets telling my story. Part of me worried that they'll treat me differently or use it against me. It is always difficult for any Soldier, Marine, Navy Seal or Air Force pilot to come to terms with what they've been through.
"Always a fighter, never a victim" is a tattoo I got. I promised myself that after that I would never be a victim again. A victim of war but also a fighter.
I have known military personnel who lie about their occupation because they cannot handle the questions or bare to talk about it.
Some people make us out to be heroes, the best people ever and others look at us like we're stone cold murders. Which is true but it came down to us or them.
We all had therapists but no matter how hard they try they cannot begin to imagine what we went through. People think after a while it doesn't get to you, but it does. You see every face, every body. You relive every scream and gunshot. When your heart is pounding so hard you can feel it in your ears and you watch your friends die trying to save innocent people, you never forget. You close yourself off and seek a pain killer. Some turn to God, some to alcohol and drugs. You may come home alive but war kills you inside.

The last thing I remember before I fell asleep was the empty plates from our improv dinner and Little Mix's new song Salute. How ironic?

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Author's note :

This was a sad chapter and if you want you can message me if it had an impact in you. As always let me know what you think in the comments

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