The Silence of War

The trucks move down the broken road. The wind blowing dust through the air coloring everything with a brown tent. Young children line the road begging for food. The soldiers look on with sorry as children no older than five walk around in clothes goodwill would not accept.
Every soldier throws the worst parts of their mre’s, and their candy to the begging children, only to see the adults hastily grab it from their grasp as soon as they retrieve it from the ground.
Soon the soldiers find themselves driving over a road with no children on the roadside. Everyone holds their breath knowing that danger lurks around them. Their fears are soon realized as an explosion rings out as the lead vehicle drives over a well placed ied.
No one is injured but the hummer is no moving. The destroyed vehicle is hooked up to one of the wreckers and the convoy continues on. Silence hangs over the troupes as they enter the base. They have been on countless convoys, and never had they found a word to describe their feelings about what they had seen. The enemies were never clear, their objective always vague.
When shots ring out, and the sky is lit up by firefights their job is easy they fight, but when the silence comes it is a frustrating time. They see the people around them, dying of hunger, hear the stories of tragedies that would curl the stomach of the most prejudice person, and hold funerals as their own friends pay the ultimate price for freedom that is not their own.
Some argue that this war is not our concern, but after you have sat threw the silence of such a war how can you not want to help those who are in such need.
Tyrants are always going to be present as long as the world turns a blind eye. We soldiers that have lived through the silence no longer turn a blind eye. We know that a blind eye only makes a tyrant more bold, and we ready ourselves for the time we muct once again sit threw the silence of tragedy.