Tuesday, 11 May 2010


My heart is beating like a fucked clock. Tick-Tick-Tick-Tock Tock-Tick Tock. My breaths are short, rapid and violent. My eyes dart around the hole in the ground in front of me and I tighten my grip on the rifle I am aiming at it.

'Get out of the hole' I scream the words. They become broken, distorted. 'Get out of the fucking hole' Small arms fire cracks away in the distance. Its staccato thump as irregular as the pounding in my chest.

A face appears in the dark slit. Foreign words fill the air - frantic words. Incoherent words. 'Get out of the fucking hole' I scream the words 'NOW' My finger takes up the triggers pressure.

A soldier scrambles out - He is wailing. Crying. Tears and snot combine into a sickly mess on his lips. My rifle barrel swings from his face to the hole. From the hole to his face.

'Weapon' I scream at him. Pushing my rifle into his face. 'Where's your fucking weapon?' He falls to his knees. I don't speak his words but know he is pleading for his life. His eyes wide - fear pouring out. He shakes uncontrollably.

I grab his jacket and drag him along the sand. He begins to moan. From the bottom of his stomach a pitiful wail pierces through the gunfire in the far away distance.

His war is over. I hate him for that. He is going to live - go home - see his Mum. See his Girl. I drop my rifle to my side and fumble for some smokes. I offer one to the trembling creature who is now curled into a ball.

He shakes his head and the moans take on a new ferocity. He clasps his hands and his tar black eyes plead with mine. 'He thinks it's his last cigarette mate' My friend chuckles. 'Poor cunt'

I realise the man has been destroyed by our Army. I sling my rifle behind me - take a knee and then smile. I take a cigarette for myself and throw the half full packet in front of him.

My enemy has been defeated. The war still rages. I give him some food and point toward the South. As I walk past his dead friends I look back. He is still sat there. Rocking back and forth as he smokes my cigarettes.

He looks up at me and waves. I don't wave back - the war still rages.


  1. War is not a pathology that with proper hygiene and treatment,can wholly be prevented.War is a natural condition of the State,which was organized to be an effective instrument of violence on behalf of society.Wars are like deaths,which,while they can be postponed,will come when they come and cannot be finally avoided.