wolfeden
Refugee
this is the usual garbage someone tries to say right.. "I don't cry..."
I don't. It got trained out of me. I'd be no bloody use on a bad 911 scene otherwise. Some other folks on here can probably relate though, rivergoat and Mr. BAW and the like, all that stuff you pack away and refuse to feel, you think you've swallowed it down but it has a way of jumping out on you when your guard is down....
So my little town decided to have "Independence Eve" fireworks, Saturday night. I'm standing in my back yard watching through the trees, and they're basically launching them less than a quarter mile from my house, in the big open field that used to be the farm. Loud, but more than loud... you could feel them.
With the effect of a loud explosion, bright lights flashing through shadows, and a gut-shaking *THUD*, suddenly I was not enjoying the fireworks celebrating America's independence...
I was hearing in my mind the last scratchy, oddly paced cel phone call I got from my buddy in Iraq.. his voice telling me a lot more about how he's doing by its tone and nuance than the carefully monitored words he used. That he's in a sandbag tent somewhere in the desert, he can't say where... that they get mortared almost nightly... send books, there's nothing much to do when he's not being shot at, oh and the camel spiders are bigger than they looked in the magazine photo....
I blink, hard. There are people cheering now, enjoying this show that the town worked very hard to afford to put on this year.
I'm still "seeing" rocket fire over Yau's unit, feeling rpgs landing and exploding, feeling like I'm sitting here useless while my friends get shipped off to die.
Blink.
What?
Nah. Something in my eye, that's all...
pollen.
or something.
Blink.
I don't. It got trained out of me. I'd be no bloody use on a bad 911 scene otherwise. Some other folks on here can probably relate though, rivergoat and Mr. BAW and the like, all that stuff you pack away and refuse to feel, you think you've swallowed it down but it has a way of jumping out on you when your guard is down....
So my little town decided to have "Independence Eve" fireworks, Saturday night. I'm standing in my back yard watching through the trees, and they're basically launching them less than a quarter mile from my house, in the big open field that used to be the farm. Loud, but more than loud... you could feel them.
With the effect of a loud explosion, bright lights flashing through shadows, and a gut-shaking *THUD*, suddenly I was not enjoying the fireworks celebrating America's independence...
I was hearing in my mind the last scratchy, oddly paced cel phone call I got from my buddy in Iraq.. his voice telling me a lot more about how he's doing by its tone and nuance than the carefully monitored words he used. That he's in a sandbag tent somewhere in the desert, he can't say where... that they get mortared almost nightly... send books, there's nothing much to do when he's not being shot at, oh and the camel spiders are bigger than they looked in the magazine photo....
I blink, hard. There are people cheering now, enjoying this show that the town worked very hard to afford to put on this year.
I'm still "seeing" rocket fire over Yau's unit, feeling rpgs landing and exploding, feeling like I'm sitting here useless while my friends get shipped off to die.
Blink.
What?
Nah. Something in my eye, that's all...
pollen.
or something.
Blink.
You're a great friend wolfeden.
