We were foot, slog – slog – slog – slogging over the fields of Bosnia and Herzegovina. It was one of those foggy days where you couldn't see shit for all that was around you. The forest was dense, cold, damp, and hazy all over. I remember even bumping into a few spruce trees. Our feet crunched with each step we took in the shallow sleet of snow that only built up thicker each hour.
Infront of us lay a front composed of men with metal detectors, making sure the field was clear for us to step on. The very ground itself, the lord's own creations, even those were not safe, for they were rigged with mines. The whole place was rigged like a gambling operation: every move you made could be your last, and your life was purely Aleatory. Every step one took was like throwing a dice, the men at front just made sure it landed on 2 sixes every time. They were our hands, guided by the grace of god to detect every anti-personnel mine hidden in these mountains.
However, today it seemed that this god had other plans, for they missed just one...
trot
trot
trot
...
trot-
click
I gasped, my eyes shooting wide. Everyone around me stopped and slowly turned to look at me, eyes just as wide as mine. My heart sank the same way my foot sank into that mine, and though it was mostly inscrutable under the black balaclava and special ops helmet, my eyes betrayed my dread. My eyes darted back and fourth between every soldier, silently pleading for help.
One of the mine detectors slowly turned around to face me, his hand slowly stretching out in a "don't move" gesture. Everyone around me slowly began to move away from me, isolating me in the middle of the field. I watched with silent betrayal as everyone around me slowly backed away, like I had a case of the bubonic plague. The feeling of being the center of attention for the wrong reason, and to be isolated by my brothers in arms... It all felt so dehumanising...
Like a punch to the gut
"H-help me..." I stammer out, my voice barely over a whisper, looking pleadingly at my comrades, pleading for one to step out of the exclusion zone they have constructed for me. I only needed one man who dared to step up to the challenge of saving me...
One eventually stood up. He was a thin, fair man. His uniform mainly covered most of his thin, boney body, giving it the appearance of that of a fair, built man that should be feared for his raw strength, but I knew what sat under all that iron and plates of armour. His body may be frail, but his heart and spirit were with me, and he was prepared to offer his life at the table of parley for me... What a courageous man.
"I got you, comrade." He assures me as he steps up to my assistance, for my sake. A soldier however suddenly puts their hand on his shoulder, stopping him, looking at him with a stern expression. The soldiers knew that what he was about to do was suicidal, but he knew the value of a man's life enough to not abandon it in its most vulnerable moments.
"Let him, we must go on. Stick to the mission" the soldier's order is met with dismissal as he shrugs him off, determined to save him. My heart swelled with joy at that moment, swelled with gratitude as he decided to step up and against the word of his superiors just to save me. I could consider him stubborn, and I would go on to call him just that, but I was as grateful as a man who just got announced a father by his doctor.
Today should be a day to celebrate.
No one else said a word, and simply continued marching, leaving just him to help me from my predicament, where we were then expected to rally back with the paltoon to finish our mission. Of course freezing to death from the extreme cold was also an option, but not one that would be ones immediate decision. To them, the bugle called, and the mission was still top priority, far more important than the life of one of their own? Curse them and their stubborn complacency!
He unsheathed a tactical knife from a scabbard located at his thigh. He then dug it around where the mine is located, uprooting the earth in an attempt to disarm this explosive web that has tangled itself in my foot. I felt like a fly caught in a spider's web. I was scared, my hot breath coming out of my mask in a cloud of mist. I looked down at the soldier and how carefully and precisely he performed his operation, how he carefully dug around the earth, like he was chiseling a sculpture. He was so skilled in his ministrations...
He finally stops at the sound of a faint metal clank, the feeling of resistance telling him he struck the mine. Good.
"Stay absolutely still. I'm going to try and disable this mine." He ordered me as he probed around the electronics hidden within the mine itself, considering which wire to cut in the hopes of disabling it. His fingers were still and precise. It gave me the impression that he might be some sort of surgeon back home, judging by how steady his hands were as he probed around in the sensitive guts of the mine, having opened it up like how one would open a patient during surgery.
Little did we know we were not far from being opened the same way, only much more gruesomely...
"I almost got it..." He mutters in a strained, concentrated tone, his eyes never leaving the intricate wiring mechanism of the landmine. In that moment, I feel a sudden surge, a surge to ask him his name. If I'm going to be saved, best I know the name of my saviour, so that I may know who to owe my life to the day it is him instead of me.
"What's your name, son?" I ask him. He stops what he's doing for a moment, taking a moment to digest what I've just said, and he looks up at me for a moment. It's not like I said something offensive, then again, maybe he doesn't want to be distracted, considering he stopped at that moment. I hope I didn't offend the lad? Maybe that question might be a bit personal and inappropriate considering the situation-
"Pvt. Edward, Sir." He replies calmly, his head focusing back on disarming the mine. My expression softens, and I nod. Nice name he's got... Reminds me of my veteran grandfather...
The air gets chillier, and you can feel your fingers get numb through your gloves. We best hurry up...
"Don't you think it's a little quiet out here?" I ask him with a hint of weariness and speculation. Though, in reality, it was really just an attempt to spare us both from the awkwardness of the situation. The air hung constantly tense, and i was trying to alleviate the stress that was probably bearing down on him at this moment with some good ol' small talk.
"It's like we're waiting for an ambush, ey?" He adds, eliciting a chuckle from me. At least the kid's got some Humor to him. He ain't like one of those soldiers who were always so stuck-up you're convinced you can see an iron pole right through their ass. This one was transparent, loquacious...
He makes for a good friend... Maybe we'll get a beer someday
"It's like we're waiting for an ambush..." I echo his words with a chuckle under my breath, finding them funny, my head and eyes darting up to look at the trees and forest around us, making sure there are infact no enemies and we haven't just jinxed ourselves. My eyes even turn to my comrades. They're not far, still within view, just a yard or two...
"You got the wire, friend?" I ask him, hoping for a hopeful status report, my foot already beginning to ache from the lack of movement. I could already begin to feel a deep throbbing feeling creeping up my leg, as if my heart was beating in it.
"No... Not yet..." He responds, his eyes fixated on the complex mesh of wiring that power the agent of my destruction, and like a mortal and his saint, he was focused on rescuing me from the explosive, metallic thorns that bound my leg.
"Hold on... I think I got it!" I hear his voice ring out with hope and pride, a smirk I can't see tugging at his lips.
"Yup! You're free... At... Last-"
BOOM
There is a sudden, deafening explosion, and my vision went white for a moment, my ears flooded with a loud, insistent ringing. By the time I regained some semblance of what happened, I was on the ground, a few meters away from where I originally was. I look around me, I look to see what happened... I ask myself why the snow around me is suddenly so red. Snow shouldn't be red! What's going on?
"Holy shit! Medic! Someone get a medic!" A muffled voice rings out amidst the sodomising ringing that clung to my ears, disorienting me further. I tried to stand, tried to move my legs, but found myself unable to do so. I felt as if someone grabbed a handful of pebbles and... Chucked them at me... What happened to Edward? where is he?
Only when my entire platoon surrounded me, blocking me from being able to see where he was, did It finally click...
The mine went off...
I raised my head, and I could only catch a glimpse of my new state, before the combat medic pushed my head back down, urging me to keep my head down. But it was too late.
I saw them... My legs... Where did they go? They weren't there! There were only stumps! Bloody, mushy, gory, visceral, gut-wrenching stumps! Stumps! Stumps! Stumps!stumps!stumpts!stumpts!
Thin lines of ripped military fabric adorned my severed limbs, and I could even see my femur bone sticking out for that fleeting glance. It's as if someone took a hacksaw and another took a hatchet and hacked away at my limbs with the most crude of accuracy! Bits were in places they shouldn't be, muscle hanging limply, tissue thin and flaky like paint flaking off a wall! Blood pooled around me like the very earth around me was beginning to bleed, bleed with my own blood!
The pain didn't even register... I was in total, complete, all consuming shock, a shock that rippled throughout my very being the same way that mine rippled through my flesh like a microwave through air
I look up, managing to catch a fleeting glance at Edward's body at the other side of where I lie. Through all the different sets of boots of soldiers that surrounded me, I managed to capture a glance...
... Edward... Your face...
His face is not there... It's almost as if a bear mauled his face with its claws, for there was only blood, and a very disfigured Edward. Chunks of brain matter, blood, gore, and his entrails hanging loosely about, some scattered amongst the pure Bosnian snow, a stark contrast to the usual ambience that once reigned superior. This was not supposed to happen. They said it would not happen...
No! No no no no! This can't be! Edward was just alive a minute ago! No! He was talking to me! I swear he was talking to me! He can't be dead! He can't he dead! HE CAN'T BE DEAD!
I tried to look up again and catch another glimpse of his mauled face, but was again pushed down.
"No... Let me see him...! Edward..." I choked out through the blood that began to fill my throat, tears welling up in my eyes, the shock and adrenaline, as well as administered morphine numbing any pain that is supposed to be battering my body right now. But no... I feel no other emotions, no physical pain, but deep-seated guilt, emotional pain, regret. Those emotions cut deeper than any other physical pain.
It's all my fault...
"EDWARD!!!" I shouted as loudly as I could, trying desperately to convince myself that under all that blood, under all that exposed brain matter, under all that shrapnel, that Edward was still alive. The tears in my eyes begun flowing freely, and I desperately tried to fight the grasp of my fellow comrades, tried to push them off me to crawl to him, but to no avail. I was too weak, too broken, too shook, too numbed...
No... Edward.... Why?
"Edward shouldn't have gone out of line, damnit! I lost a good man! Mind your step next time, everyone!" My squad commander was heard shouting, cursing under his breath, looking more troubled by the fact that he lost a soldier, and not a brother. He looked to be more bothered by the fact that he would later have to explain the situation to his commanding officer later on.
I looked at him with disgust. How dare he!? He does not know the definition of "lose"! HOW DARE YOU!? YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO LOOSE SOMEONE LIKE EDWARD! Edward went out of line for ME! Edward disobeyed an order for ME! Edward kneeled down to try and help ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ILL BLAME MYSELF FOR IT FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE, BUT DAMNIT, HE'S THE REASON I'M STILL FUCKING ALIVE! And you think you can just... assume nothing of this that this is just nothing!? You think you can understand the gravity of this!? Understand what it feels like to loose a brother!? A brother in arms!? You think he is some cattle!? Another statistic!? Another "thing" to report back to base as "KIA"!?
HE TRIED TO SAVE ME! HE SAID "FUCK YOU" TO YOUR FACE AND LEPT FOR ME! YOU HEARTLESS SON OF A BITCH! HE HAD A LIFE! A WIFE, A CHILD! PEOPLE WAITING FOR HIM BACK HOME, YOU COMPLACENT, BUREAUCRATIC SON OF A BITCH! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU!
HE LEPT FOR ME! HE RAN FOR ME! and now... You tell us... "Mind your step next time"?
I wish I had the ability to leap fourth and reach for my pistol and shoot him right there, wish I had the ability to speak my kind, say all of that to his face until I bleed to death Infront of him... But I could only clench my fists and grit my bloody teeth as I am tended to. My eyes never left his commanding pose as he watched the team of medics and soldiers aid me, but I did not want to be aided. To be aided, means to live, and to live, means to remember what happened here today, and to remember... Means to blame yourself.
It took me months to even remotely recover cover from it all. I was discharged early and sent back home. I knew I would never forget about it... The horrors, the event, my now lost legs, replaced with Healed stumps encased in thick bandages. The only thing I could do now, is gaze out the balcony window of my apartment, dreaming and reminiscing of the times I could perambulate and frolic amongst the dense foliage. Now, I can only sit here, feel the wind pick up the hem of my navy blue decorated Service Uniform, and watch the children outside chase eachother in a frantic game of "tag", laughing. A glimpse of a smile tugs at my lips, and a tear gradually slips past. It almost makes my sacrifice worth it...
I shake my head and sigh, spinning my wheelchair around to the table next to me, where two beers stand idly, both opened. I grab one, clink it with the other one, and force a teary smile.
Clink!
"Heh... Told you we're gettin' that beer..." I chuckle again, trying to mask the overwhelming grief with jokes and cheap booze to stop myself from looking at the loaded pistol in my nightstand so often every night, my hands just barely grazing the handle, but I ultimately don't do it. But I know, one day I will..
"Cheers, little man..." I take a sip of the booze, setting it down, looking at the other bottle I opened for Edward
"... You gonna drink that?" After a moment of silence, I begin to laugh "Ha ha! I'm just joking with you, man! Take your time!" I laugh drunkly, pretending to playfully punch Edward's nonexistent shoulder as I laugh, only to start coughing intensely a few seconds later.
I sigh, looking defeated for a moment. I grab the beer bottle and turn to gaze back out at the balcony, slumping my shoulders over, a tear rolling down my eye
"I'm sorry, Edward... I'm sorry."