Post by Admin on Sept 13, 2013 7:18:19 GMT
An SAS Sergeant in Afghanistan
The wind howls around jagged rock and crevice like a threatening Banshee’s cry.
We’re holed up here like rats in an Afghan mountain cave, hoping we’re not the next to die.
We all think of our families that are praying earnestly for us back at home.
It’s this thought of love we rely on, that we’re not completely on our own.
I killed four fanatical young men today for no more than following their rigid beliefs.
It makes me sick to the bottom of my soul and I wait in earnest for our Reliefs.
I try hard to find the excuses, or justice for the Terrorist acts they have done.
But no matter how hard I try, even with exaggerated sympathy, I still can’t find none.
This war is nothing less than the killing of rabid minds and a sick downright hate.
A job that we just have to do if we’re to stop Terrorist acts at a later date.
I really wish all Nations could help each other and learn to live in peace.
Perhaps that’s just an impossible dream to have and war and conflict will never cease.
It’s now 0200. At 0300 we’re going in for another night attack on their base.
I wonder now. Do I have more than this hour to live? Does the fear show upon my face?
I’ll write a quick letter and have it in my uniform so the Major will know what to do.
If my number happens to come up this time then he’ll send my last letter on to you.
Well it’s getting near that time of fate when Men’s blood will spill like hot red rain.
There’ll be smoke and fire and the noises from hell and Men screaming out in pain.
Oh please my God take this terrible fear from me. Look mercifully upon my head.
I want so desperately to see my Wife and Kids again. Please! I don’t want to end up dead.
“It’s 0259. Yes Major we’re all ready. Light packs. I’ve done a pre-check on the Squad.”
“Ok. Remember. Head shots! No prisoners! Wounded left behind! Go! Go! Go!”
“Our Father who art in heaven.
Hallowed be they name.”
Copyright Retribution
The wind howls around jagged rock and crevice like a threatening Banshee’s cry.
We’re holed up here like rats in an Afghan mountain cave, hoping we’re not the next to die.
We all think of our families that are praying earnestly for us back at home.
It’s this thought of love we rely on, that we’re not completely on our own.
I killed four fanatical young men today for no more than following their rigid beliefs.
It makes me sick to the bottom of my soul and I wait in earnest for our Reliefs.
I try hard to find the excuses, or justice for the Terrorist acts they have done.
But no matter how hard I try, even with exaggerated sympathy, I still can’t find none.
This war is nothing less than the killing of rabid minds and a sick downright hate.
A job that we just have to do if we’re to stop Terrorist acts at a later date.
I really wish all Nations could help each other and learn to live in peace.
Perhaps that’s just an impossible dream to have and war and conflict will never cease.
It’s now 0200. At 0300 we’re going in for another night attack on their base.
I wonder now. Do I have more than this hour to live? Does the fear show upon my face?
I’ll write a quick letter and have it in my uniform so the Major will know what to do.
If my number happens to come up this time then he’ll send my last letter on to you.
Well it’s getting near that time of fate when Men’s blood will spill like hot red rain.
There’ll be smoke and fire and the noises from hell and Men screaming out in pain.
Oh please my God take this terrible fear from me. Look mercifully upon my head.
I want so desperately to see my Wife and Kids again. Please! I don’t want to end up dead.
“It’s 0259. Yes Major we’re all ready. Light packs. I’ve done a pre-check on the Squad.”
“Ok. Remember. Head shots! No prisoners! Wounded left behind! Go! Go! Go!”
“Our Father who art in heaven.
Hallowed be they name.”
Copyright Retribution