‘Horan, Payne I want you two to secure a fifty meter perimeter surrounding us, if you see the men you will shoot on site, is that understood?’ The two soldiers nod and turn to secure the perimeter. Focusing my attention on Harry and Tomlinson I ask, ‘Private how is Tomlinson’s condition?’

As I bring my gun to sight Styles gives me his report, ‘Not good sir, there is a lot of bleeding I cannot stop so the blood loss is dangerously high…’ he stops short applying his mouth again onto Tomlinson’s as an attempt to supply the fading soldier with oxygen, ‘he also has a sever head injury and I can’t get him to breathe!’ For only a moment I see fear flood the eyes of the young recruit, but it’s only for a moment as sheer determination consumes his expression as he drives to keep this man alive.

Harry leans down again and I watch as Tomlinson’s chest fills with air given to him by the kid. Without needing instructions and without hesitation this young man ran to the aid of the fallen officer. Most people at his age, rank and status would not yet know how to respond to the wounded, dying man but he did and in such a way I can only presume he has been in a similar situation in his life before the military. I am impressed with his actions.

‘Sir, I need you to apply pressure to his wound we need to stop the bleeding.’

I don’t respond to him, calculating the risk of leaving our backs unprotected for even a moment; it could cost us all our lives. I glance down at the kid, his face pleading for me to help him. Looking through the scope on my gun I can tell that there is no immediate danger. Discarding my weapon I crouch beside my fallen comrade using my hands to stop the bleeding.

As my fingers become soaked in the hot mess of blood I try to choke down the memories that are threatening to surface in the forefront of my mind. The longer I keep my hands where they are, the blood running through the parts on my hands; it is becoming impossible to drown out the piercing sound of gunfire. The sound gets louder hammering through my mind, ricocheting around my memories as they taunt me in a horrific symphony, the cacophony of noise bringing forth the images that match. Fire spreads up and down my spine as I feel the heat of my exploding helicopter, flames licking at my back, burning through my clothes and searing into my flesh. My eyes close hard at the sound of pained and terrified soldiers screaming over the reign of gunfire. My stomach drops with the sensation of the helicopter falling out of the sky-

‘Shit!’ Private Styles’ voice brings me out of my painful past and back into the present, ‘I’m losing him, I… I can’t feel a pulse-’

The sound of actual gunfire peppers through the haunting silence of the night, ripping away the last of the hope that the worst was over. My eyes meet Harry’s and the exchange of silent conversation says that I need to help the others. I get up and Harry quickly maneuvers himself into a position where he can use his leg to apply pressure to the wound but also continue CPR. He nods at me knowing he can manage like this. Without a moment to think I grab my gun and run towards the snapping and popping of flying bullets… PSHEW.

I hit the ground as a bullet passes the side of my head, as soon as my body hits the leafy ground the gunfire suddenly sounds further away. With my hand off my gun I feel something hot and thick running down the side of my face. Through the dark I inspect my hand not sure if that is my blood or the blood of Tomlinson I can see. The burning that explodes from my ear confirms that the blood on my hands is mine as well as Tomlinson’s.

Looking up I see the frantic footsteps of Private Horan as he takes cover behind the trunk of a nearby tree. His blue eyes impossibly wide with fear, small tufts of blonde hair slip from under his too big helmet. I watch the terrified breaths he takes, his whole body shaking violently, as he grips his gun tight to his chest. Lance Corporal Payne takes nearby cover behind a tree as well but his expression cold and calculating, I can see the concentration on his face as he smoothly reloads his weapon. He clicks the magazine in place takes a breath and shoots blindly into the distance and stops, waiting for retaliation fire; trying to assess how many guns are firing at us. Without getting up I position my gun and look down the scope trying to see the attackers. I see movement and fire.

One shot.
Two shots.
Three shots.

On the third shot I hear a cry and a thud, even with my impaired hearing it indicates they are less than one hundred meters away from us. Suddenly all gunfire ceases and the sound of shaky breaths and escaping footsteps is all that can be heard. My first instinct as I get to my feet is to set off in the direction of the men who instigated the attack and injured my men; but as I see the body of Niall Horan fall to the ground I run straight to his side instead.

Upon closer inspection I see that his blue are stare at nothing, dazed, shocked; terrified. A mixture of dirt and blood coats his otherwise paling skin, his entire body shaking as he takes sharp and short breaths. Payne stands beside us, his gun ready in case the gunfire picks up again. I place a hand on the shoulder of Horan, his head snaps straight at me, his eyes widen even further as his whole body tenses; my reassuring gesture frightening him more.

‘Talk to me Private.’ I request but the boy just looks me in the eyes, fear fills his expression and I realize and understand his reaction because barely moments ago I myself had pointed a gun at his face and then sent him into battle. Guilt consumes me in a didactic wave of wrong doings. Realizing there was no way I was going to get this soldier to talk to me I get back to my feet, extending a hand to help him up. He stares at it for a moment trying to decipher what I intend for him to do. Eventually he takes my hand and I help him to his feet, I catch the eye of Payne and he points his head saying to head back. I comply and assist the petrified private walk back to where Styles and Tomlinson were last. I see the urgent flashing of headlights ignite the darkness as the ambulance draws closer to us.

I try to encourage an urgency in Horan but he appears to be moving as fast as he can. Leaves crunch and twigs snap under our heavy steps as we draw closer. From this distance I can see three medical officers separate Private Styles from Tomlinson’s lifeless body relieving him as they place machines and monitors around the soldier. Harry watches motionlessly as two other medical officers move Tomlinson onto a cart. The medical team gesture for Harry to get into the ambulance after they have loaded Officer Cadet Tomlinson on. He complies without uttering a word. Just as the ambulance doors close Styles looks out the back and see us. His face doesn’t allow for any emotion other than sadness and disappointment. I see the grim expressions of the medical team and just as the doors close and a medical officer approaches us I realize that I have lost another man. My whole world shatters around me once again.

I drop to my knees.

Notes