Every day, from dusk till dawn, this is what goes on the world around in every city, and every town, save a few who have better things to do: Men open their eyes, surprised what they see---the world still here, temporarily? They stretch, shrug, scratch, rise, put feet to rug, answer nature's call, check the clock on the wall. Is all still well? Hard to tell.
Like the rest, I don my bulletproof vest, have breakfast with my wife, kiss my kids off to school or out to play. They know daddy's going away but he does that every day. He's off to fight the war. But isn't that what daddies are for?
I watch the morning news on CBS or NBC or some program locally to learn what is, what might be. Soon my crave begins, the caffein bean, juices its brewing produces, hot and black, prelude to the waiting scene.
After a roll, , eggs and ham I sigh, kiss my wife goodbye,get in my car, drive off to war in a car I share with neighbor Ted who will be dead in time for chow. That is how things are in this war. You fight and kill or die eight hours a day. No war on weekends, On holidays? Well that depends. You never know, you come and go and if you're killed this was your day to die. Don't as why.
"If I'm still alive by noon, or if peace comes soon, I'll break for lunch, okay? If things go wrong, so long." With a lump in my throat and fear in my heart, I'm off to war. I'll just have time before it starts for a cup of tea and a snack. then it's me against the enemy. Will I come back, will he? What will be will be. We we fight a war to decide who's right but neither We nor They know what right might be. So we must fight on until most troops are dead; If there are fewer among the Wrongs fighting the Rights then the Wrongs are Right and the Rights are Wrong.
This i war began in 2104, New Year's Day, the beginning of a new century. It's not a war fueled by hate, rather a debate with bullets as bait. A war no-one's losing, no-one's winning, Is this the beginning of the end? Or the end of a new beginning? The cliche response: only time will tell. Up till now time's silent as hell.
This is a gentlemanly war. When we kill we apologize. When soldiers die both sides cry. Both know what to expect next. There's mutual respect. There's no brutality. Only military reality. That's the well-kept rule of war in the year 2104.
If I die it will be comforting to know I'm mourned by friend and foe. There will one day be peace. But who share the glory? With millions dead and millions dying and too few trying to make peace a lasting reality---well, we'll just have to wait and see.
But that's another story.