Darkest Before Dawn

It was a pitch-black night as I made my way a crossed the desert field. My heart weighed heavy with every step I took. A day after Sadam Hussein’s body was brought to our base, the bombs continued at a higher rate than usual. The increased attacks were to be expected, but the scars of the aftermath are and always will be everlasting. As I walked through the sandy air with my weapon by my side I made my way to the building in which I worked during our deployment. As a military vehicle came driving down the dirt road in front of me, the headlights made the rubble, bushy and rocky path more visible. The closer I got, however, the more blinding their lights became. The vehicle slowed with an abrupt and alarming caution. Instinctively I looked behind me into the darkness to see if they had seen something I had not. I turned around to see the once deep black sky turn completely white, similar to that of heat lightning on a hot summer day. I then turned back around assuming that’s all it was, but before I even turned back to the direction I was walking I was quickly corrected on my assumption and my ignorance was made apparent. I heard a thunderous roar after my split second of bewilderment. It was a direct hit smashing into the ground 100-150 meters away from my position. At that moment I couldn’t move. I was standing in the middle of the field entirely frozen and paralyzed with fear and shock. The sirens revived this paralyzed state only well enough so that I could continue walking to my destination, now only 40 meters ahead of me. I then continued walking with my weapon clenched to my side and my heart pounding out of my chest.