A Day in the Life of a Soldier

We have been walking for hours. It feels like years though. I'm hungry and exhausted, so my mind is not functioning very well. My mouth is so dry. I would do anything for a glass of water. I don’t remember the last time my lips were soaked with fresh water. It might have been in the morning, but it feels like ages ago. The more I think about it, the thirstier I become.

The bag is too heavy, especially when going uphill. I wonder if the others feel the same way. I have the feeling that soon enough my body will be slamming against the hard ground. And the sad thing is, the others will probably just go on without me and never know how or where I disappeared. Or maybe they will find my rotten body ages later, and wish they never did. It's so dark. All I can see is shadows of tall trees between the darkness. They probably won't notice when I drop dead.

In fact, nothing much will change when I die. Everything, except me, will go on the way it always had. Birds will sing, rivers will flow, and the sun will shine! I guess it's quite sad how my existence doesn't mean much. Compared to other significant things, it may mean nothing at all. It definitely does mean a lot to me though.

I'm just a tiny being compared to a huge globe that contains heaps and heaps of people, animals, cities, machines and many other things that I can't be bothered to mention, let alone think of. I always wanted to write a book. Maybe 'Tiny Individuals' could be the title. It sounds cool, doesn’t it? I just hope there will be people left after the war to read it.

Are we getting close? I can’t tell. I feel dizzy, but proud. Very proud actually. It was incredible how we blew up the bridge. It is nice to be helping my country, even if we have to kill others, or risk our own lives. I just hope I'd be appreciated when the war is over. Or will it ever be over?

I hope it will. I know the others want it to be over as well. That's why we have to fight and get those invaders out of our country.

Four figures rushed from between the darkness towards me with warm hugs and random kisses. Michael, David, Chris and Simon stayed at camp, while I and two other men went to blow up the bridge. I'm assuming it was their hugs I met.

Soon enough, the bag was lifted off my back, my clothes were changed, I was fed and in bed. I don’t even know who did all this, but I loved them all for doing it. I looked to my right and realized that the others were being nursed as well. It was nice how we all cared for each other.

We did not only care for each other because we did not have anyone else. After spending long enough with these people, we have become family. We got so used to each other. I honestly can't imagine losing any of them. I love them too much to see any of them hurting.

Finally, I am resting inside my nice and soft sleeping bag. The camp feels like home now, it's the only place where I feel safe, where all of us feel safe, and therefore it is home. My exhausted body is aching, but especially my back. My toes are bleeding and I have scratches all over.

Two hours ago, when I was walking, and it seemed like I was walking forever, I would have done anything to be sleeping in my warm sleeping bag. I thank God I am tucked nicely inside it at the moment, but I really wish I could sleep!

Sleep hated me these days. I'm never able to have a nice nap with peaceful dreams. I wonder if it's because I'm a terrible person. Has this war turned me into some kind of a monster?

I hope not. I hope I changed in a positive way. I can hear shrugs, coughs, sneezes and sobs from other sleeping bags around mine. The camp smells nice. It smells like home as much as feels like it. I feel so alive.