It's a feeling like no other. Squeezing the trigger in the hopes that it hits it's mark. I don't mean a target, center mass, silhouette shooting. I mean when your target is another living human being. You look down your sights and actually see the inhale and exhale of another, who breaths just as you do. Your eyes begin to waiver, your palms begin to sweat, and for one brief moment you forget what you are there for. This is absolutely not the time to question your purpose, although it happens regardless. A terrible mental state to be in when in combat. Because the enemy may not be questioning any of the existential gobbidy gook that has hindered you from doing what you have spent the last 3 years training to do. Boom, like that you're dead, because YOU STOPPED TO THINK ABOUT IT!
War is not a play ground, and or a sand box where you show a girl your knickers. You play for keeps. When I came to that realization I cried like a fucking baby. No joke. Hmmmm, I might not go home on leave and fuck Julie like I been dreaming about since I got out of boot camp. I might actually leave here in a body bag and get that 21 gun salute. So I better get my head on straight, my eyes on the target, palms dry, and my trigger finger ready. Shoot to, guess what.... kill. End life. Otherwise it might be mine that is taken.
I don't know where I'm going or how I started on this morbid rant. I'm gonna guess it has something to do with the COVID. Mortality is not something we like to, or address very often. But I have, and it was eye opening and it scared the shit out of me. However, it did help me in a lot of ways. Death is not what actually scares me. It's not living that does. So I like to keep my head on a swivel and my trigger finger ready for whatever life may thro at me. Good or bad. Stay frosty
Peaces and Creases
TBN OUT
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