Enemy Territory

         It has been 13 days since the ambush that separated me from my team in enemy territory.  Thirteen frickin’ days and I didn’t like it one damn bit.  I was getting low on supplies, bitten back by bugs and my stomach was nearly eaten through with worry and tension.  If I could only get out of this hell hole. 

         The loneliness was almost as raw as the worry of being caught and tortured.  I stayed to the edge of the road ducking for cover at the slightest sound.  Hell, I was not even sure if I was going in the right direction.  For all I knew, I could have been walking and winding my way deeper into enemy territory.  And that would be suicide. 

         I tried to move at night under cover of darkness.  Slow and steady, my eyes and ears trained on even the smallest of sounds and sights. 

         By day, I cat napped in the shadows, my gun dug into my arm to keep me always half alert.  Sleep came in fits and starts with nightmares that roamed me cerebral cortex like poison ingested in small doses.  Exhaustion was my closest companion.

         Just at the edge of dusk one night I heard the shuffling of many boots on rough gravel.  Enemy language tangled with my mind and had me burrowing in deeper for cover.  My heart was pounding so hard I thought for sure it would give me away.  I slowed my breathing, fighting for control.  Ducking down I could see nothing, only the sounds rang around me, sending me spiralling into my fear. 

         I heard the footsteps stop; definitely a united group on patrol.  Whispered urgency cut across the silence.  Orders were given.  I heard several shiftings of boots move into the underbrush, the grass hissing at the disturbance.  I heard the cocking of rifles bearing down, getting ready.  Then silence cut.

         My body thrummed with terror, but I forced myself to focus and pray.  Screaming out to God in my mind; asking for His protection.  My breath held, refusing to release.

         Then, squawks of birds rose like a fleet into the air, sending turmoil into the awaiting troops.  They scuttled back to the road, their commander ordering them to retreat.  One of the few words of the enemy, I had made a point of learning. 

         I lay there a long while after they had gone.  Afraid to move, still paralyzed with fear.  Dark fell faster, blotting out the world around me, but still I did not move. 

         Then I heard laughter.  At first I thought I was losing my mind.  Then I heard it again.

         “You see them buggers run.”  I heard a voice whisper with muffled laughter.

         My mind swirled.  Was that Callaghan?  Were my men close?  Letting myself believe, I shifted up looking into the barrel of an AK47.  Looking up the barrel and beyond, to the face, I caught the grin.

         “Well, hell if it ain’t Patterson.  God, man ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.  Been lookin’ for your crazy ass for days.”

         I smiled up at him as he shifted his gun and dragged my sorry ass up out of the grunge I’d been laying in. 

         “We’d almost given up, boy.”  My captain said as he clapped me on the back.  Turning he lead the way.  “Back to camp, boys.  We got a man to patch up and then let’s get the hell out of here.”

         I wasn’t going to argue with that.  Callaghan wrapped his arm around my waist and together we followed the captain out.

Moving slow and steady, I sent up a prayer of thanks then pushed forward.



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