Jack Trip's Last Experience

The continuous blast was nightmarish. It was afternoon but the day was almost veiled by dark and grim pillars of smokes. The unanimated fallen trees nearby hit by grenade explosion, left their roots away from the ground of the motherland. The jets of exchange firing were heavy and knew no limits. The entire terrain was practically rained by bullet shots and heavy shelling.

Jack Trip tried to calm himself. Obviously it was not working. His hands, smeared with fresh bloodstain and earth soil began to sweat and tremble. Hide behind a dune, his breath turned short, then panted with fluttering heart. Jack tried hard to regain a clear mind. Flashes of old film of thoughts found its way into the inner sanctum of his mind. Jack recalled the heydays of his formative years. He was actually recruited from Nebraska. Grew up in the backwaters of a small and dusty town, the young man was as decent as a dove. Yet his conscripted was inescapable. To serve the country or yourself. Jack knew the answer well. Since his childhood years, he has grown up ingrained with patriotic values instilled by his old folks. Papa had always been proud of the scars designed by war. He showed off to Jack many times as bedtime story. Yet Jack never denied his fright for close death. He saw papa died close to his side. His cold and pale face has marred the flesh of his innocent thoughts permanently. It haunted him mercilessly as though it was just yesterday’s news. Jack’s mom was a great cook, and love his son’s diligence. She died a year back, and Jack too struggled a long time to accept the fact.

A sudden blast nearby woke him up from the brief pleasantries. The thick smog shrouded his vision a while. As it steadily cleared, the shocking horror appeared before his eyes. His teammate, Dennis Malcom Jr lied 20 meters away, sprawled and left abandoned in a foreign battlefield. His motionless body was unattended, and very likely dead.

Jack cringed deeply at the sight. His heart palpitated uncontrollably. Holding firmly to his gun like an ultimate lifesaver, he quivered in panic. Then everything, the sound of battle, the cried for help, the scattering soldiers, all fall into the backdrop. Just as his vulnerable mind began spiraling down into the pit of delusion, a terse voice interrupted. It slapped his attention almost immediately.

A higher rank officer beside him jostled him up with a clear command. He noticed Jack nervous predisposition and cowering posture. With both hands, he slaps Jack’s face roughly. Then Jack still in a daze is forced to put his thoughts together.

"Yes …yes… yes sir I’m here", Jack replied but stuttered.

Now that he was back in focus, Jack repositioned his mind. He looked over and decided to make a charge. While the coast was cleared, he ran towards a nearby man-made barracks close to 50 meters away. As he dashed across, his eyes passed swiftly by many unfamiliar and unforgettable scenes. The dead soldiers scattered around were in scores. The images of fresh spilling blood, nauseating scent of smolders, and limbs and parts of bodies strewn across the battlefield muzzled Jack to a bottomless fright.

Jack was overwhelmed with anxiety. This was no boot camp Jack had to remind himself.