A-Mini-Story, The Secrets of War

A-Mini-Story, The Secrets of War



A U.S. Solider writes notes in his personal journal during the Iraqi war,  He shares his concerns over his ability to be a good husband after he returns home, because of all that he has seen, and all that he knows.


We all knew what was inside the small, carefully packaged, boxes. We were not allowed to speak of the contents of the small packages, which were being shipped to an undisclosed location, even if the world was looking for weapons of mass destruction.

Iraq is hotter than usual on this Sunday afternoon.

Our mission was classified. We fully understood what we were up against.

How could I relate to my family, my parents and my girlfriend after this? How would I be able to relate to anyone, other than military personal, after this? Classified military secrets will create a space of nothingness, between my fiancé, Charlene and me.

I’ve been ignoring my inner-self for almost a year now, I’m not sure if I can hold up after I return state side, after the grief I’ve experienced. Will my heart mend in time to be in-love again? War changes things.

She has been faithful, I can tell from her letters. She writes me three or four times a week, and spends her time going to school. She wants to be a nurse and says, she’ll support us until I get back on my feet. It’s not my feet that I worry about, it’s my mind.

There were times, I wish she would write a “Dear John Letter,” rather than wait for a man who is broken. In the beginning my heart hurt because one of my war buddies was killed, or badly injured in combat. At other times, my heart hurt when I saw pain on the faces of the Iraqi people.

More than anything I want to return home and be the man that Charlene deserves. But each day, I wonder if I’m even fit to be a good husband. The pain was just too great I closed my heart, to survive the war, now I don’t feel anything. Once you turn the corner of humanity and kill another human being, your life changes forever. You are only connected (forever) to the people you turned the corner with, and the families of the people you killed. The army tries to protect you, but a higher source plugs the emptiness of the families you disrupted, and justifiably so.

I love my country, I love my family and I love myself, yet, I feel alone and isolated. May the force, which is greater than me heal my war-torn heart.

Note from the Author: This is a fictional entry, into a U.S. soldier’s personal journal.


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