Once again, I was unable to sleep.
It’s a by product of my job.
Always up, always alert, even
when I have back up.
When you’re charged with someone’s life, you never really
let your guard down.
But this night is different. I wasn’t in tune with my
surrounding, I wasn’t aware of the wind blowing the flap of my tent. I didn’t
notice the voices talking just outside, or the crackle of the fire.
My mind was drowning in the events of the day.
The long gone screams of fear lingered in my ears. I still saw the panicked faces, even though my eyes were now closed.
The day was a test of my abilities and those of my men.
We
passed, but not without paying a price.
We were on a mission to extract humanitarian workers from the
outskirts of the jungle. We had been given word that rebel troops were moving
in their direction.
They had set up a camp and had been tending to the refugees
fleeing their homes; providing shelter, some health care, food and clean water. But the day’s events shattered their oasis of calm, and tore
at the fibers of their faith.
We had gathered up the workers and were about to start the relocation
of the refugees when the rebels arrived…
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