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by rtonam Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Short Story · Experience · #1048326
One night in the life of a veteran.
         We live in a fighting bunker. It has one door. Gun ports for firing at Charlie are positioned on the side facing the jungle. Usually these openings don’t allow much illumination for the interior. There are three of us living in this hole in the ground and we take shifts pulling guard duty each night. We pull two-hour guard shifts and six sleeping. We are short one man who is wounded so we only get four hours sleep at a time if we are lucky.
 
         Something awakens me. I hear a noise. I open my eyes. The full moon cast an eerie light in the normally dark bunker. On most nights you can't see your hand in front of your face when inside our fighting home. The moon is really bright tonight and I am surprised at how well I can see. I can see Johnson at one of the firing ports. He looks like he is resting his head on his arm. I hope he isn’t sleeping. It’s very hard to stay awake for guard. Bob, our third man, is sleeping on his air mattress. I don't see anything out of the ordinary. I start to relax and get my breathing under control.

         I see a black shadow beside the door. I can't make out exactly what it is but I think it moved. Suddenly my heart is beating faster. I can hear my blood rushing through my ears as my heart pounds. The shadow is moving again. I can see now that Johnson is sleeping. I know he wouldn’t go to sleep on purpose. But we don’t get much sleep. With our patrols during the day, our ambush patrols or listening post at night and forever filling a never ending supply of sand bags we are always exhausted at night. The mortar rounds, rockets and alerts keep us hopping. Johnson hadn’t moved for several minutes. He has to be sleeping. I can see Bob still sleeping just as I had been.
 
         The shadow moved again and I can see an intruder now. My heart is trip hammering as I watch him step away from the wall of sand bags. I can make out the black pajama uniform of the Viet Cong. Charlie is in our bunker. I don't know what to do. If I yell he might kill us all before any one can react. Stopping him would have to be up to me. I always sleep with my clothes on and my weapon is by my side. If he looks away I might be able to bring my weapon up and stop him before he fires on any one. I hope I don't hit Johnson.
 
         He stepped forward again and there is enough light to see his AK 47 and web belt. He turns toward me and stares. I can't move. He looks away, checking to see if Bob is sleeping I think. I tried to bring my weapon up but I am frozen with fear. I can't move anything. I try again to move but my body will not respond. I am covered in sweat as I start concentrating on my index finger.
 
         “Move! Move damn it!” I try to coax my finger to move. If I can get one finger to move maybe the rest of my body will kick in gear.
 
         “Move!”
 
         He turned back towards me. He started approaching me. He is getting closer and closer. My heart feels like it might come out of my chest.
 
         “Move! Move! Damn it, move you sorry shit!”
 
         He is very close now. I can see his oriental features clearly. He looks determined. He puts down his AK 47 and pulls a knife from his web belt.
 
         “Move! Move! Move!”
 
         He is on top of me and I still can't move. He reachs out to me. He has the knife in his hand and I know he is going to cut my throat.
 
         “Move Damn it! Move!” I still can't get my body to respond. He has the knife at my throat.
 
         “Damn it, move!”
 
         Suddenly my sweat soaked body responds. I scream and fall to the floor. Immediately I am on my feet and ready to fight for my life. My wife rolls over and looks at me.
 
         “What in the world are you doing?” she asked.
 
         “Oh, nuthin’. Just fell out of bed.” I looked at the clock. It had been two hours since I had last been up.
 
         “Well hurry up and get back in here. I need some sleep too.”
 
         “Let me check on the kids first.”
 
         It was time for another perimeter check.
 
 
*Perimeter check
Spending a few months sleeping in a two-man fighting hole and waking every two hours to stand watch brings about changes of behavior for combat veterans that continue even in civilian life. Combat veterans continue to wake every two hours and check windows and doors, approaches to their house and especialy checking to make sure their children are safe. This practice continues for a life time and is jokingly refered to as a perimeter check.
© Copyright 2005 rtonam (dwilburn at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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