Heavy! That’s what it feels like to try to keep moving in sand. The heat of the baked earth; the scorching of legs and hands and neck and face! The stinging of hot blasts of sand as you struggle to move forward and keep balance and control and momentum.
Passing the sightless eyes of your friends as you push on. The friends you have known through weeks and months of training. The mates who swore to always have each others’ backs now lay in the sand. Many of them are only parts of those you knew. The Buzzards’ Feast waiting for the attendees to arrive.
Stench of death fills the air and nostrils…pungent…sickening…filling my throat with bile needing to explode forth. Yet we keep moving forward regardless the cost.
Why? Every face I see looking back at me with clouded eyes and faces contorted in their last excruciating breath.
Any vestiges of humanity disappear in times like these. It is only in the annihilation of one another that we seek humanity. Cowardly souls dressed for battle awaiting only that one brave soul to lead from the front and guide the way.
Life….what is this dream? Living….what nightmare is this which distorts every day existence into a series of unending nightmares?
The sands have swallowed most of my brother’s in arms. Their faces cry out silently in the agony of the nightmares.