Kaden's Note

Kaden Miles cried out from a place in his heart he had not known existed till that moment crashed fiercely down upon him. He cried for mercy and freedom. He cried from pain. He cried for his wife and his unborn child. He cried without shedding a tear, for even one tear would have had too great a price.

He staggered and nearly tripped as sand, stone, and shrapnel rained from the sky. The sounds of hoarse cries, gunfire, explosions, and vicious wind faded until all he could hear was his own strained breaths and an erratic rhythm he guessed was his heartbeat. He briefly wondered if he had heard one shot or three. He continued to run, veering off the road toward a doorway ten yards to the right. Even now he could not betray his training, and he crouched and lifted his rifle, checking the roof of the building for enemies before stumbling inside the door. Again, he checked the parameters of the room. It was clear. And then something changed. His resolve left him as he gasped for air, and all of his carefully honed prowess was gone in an instant. The fingers firmly grasping his gun loosened, and it fell heavily to the ground. His muscles refused to hold him up any longer, and he crumpled at the base of the wall. His hands reached immediately for his stomach and came away crimson. He knew what he had to do. He struggled to unlatch the strap of his helmet and managed to get it off his head, all the while his mind on the little book that he had carried with him for three months in the pocket on this left leg. As his helmet toppled into the dust, he pulled the book into his lap.

Who can understand what it is to die? Who can truly accept the pain of realizing that a lover and a child will be completely alone in a world too cruel to leave them to, in a world where only the eyes of those dying are fully opened to what it means to live, in a world unworthy of those few brave souls who venture through it?

Kaden Miles understood. He knew the pain and realized the loss, and it was his eyes that reflected for just a second such a surge of pure life that anyone around him would have begged for just a small measure of his vivacity. But then the intensity of his agony overwhelmed him enough that he had to close his eyes, and a terrifyingly satisfying darkness swarmed all around him.

Kaden Miles was a soldier, and he was fighting a war that had nothing to do with the glory it is always thought a soldier experiences in a battle. It had everything to do with the reality of bloodstained sands, broken hearts, and homes that had become mere houses. He had seen it happen. He had seen boys turned to men in an instant, seen them become stronger and weaker, more foolish and wiser in one moment. And as he fought off the darkness with sudden desperation, Kaden Miles knew that the sand around him was red. A heart dearer to him than any other residing an ocean away would break the next day, and it was his home that emptiness would invade and permeate until it was just a house. But he had one thing left to do.

Kaden Miles gathered all the strength left to him and opened the book, smearing blood on the clean pages. A frustrated cry rose from his lips at this, for he had not wanted to leave any trace of his death other than the words he would write. He could hardly see past the tears streaming down his face, hardly feel the paper past his pain and through his gloves, but he searched with dire need for the page he had left blank specifically for this day. He managed to pull the pen he had left in the spine and fumbled with it until he could write with it. The sonogram was taped to the opposite side of the page, and a flicker of a smile crossed his face before he began concentrating on writing.

“My only child, I pray that you will one day read this… It is the best thing I have to give to you along with my life for your freedom. My dreams for you are written on every page of this journal—my deepest thoughts and struggles. I have tried to write down what I think will help you…the story of my life. Learn from my mistakes and the mistakes of those around me…”

Kaden Miles was struck by pain that stabbed through his stomach and sent a shudder up and down his body. His pen scratched the paper, and he bit his lip and tilted his head up. “Oh, God!” he cried to the ceiling. He looked down again and set his pen on the line to write, but he could not keep his hand steady. He steeled himself and pressed the pen down into the paper. “I don’t have much time. I want you to never doubt that I love you, that I would be with you now if I could. I would give anything to be able to hold you—to be able to hold you just once! I will always be with you. Never doubt that I love you. I love you!”

And that was all. The pen dropped to the ground as the air shook with another explosion. Kaden Miles slumped beside his helmet and his rifle on the sand floor, and the journal slipped from his lap.

Two shadows appeared in the doorway, eyes and guns searching the room. A yell rang out. “Marine down! Marine down!”


* Based on the Letter Vignette video, script by Katherine Haller.