Mohammad turned
his head upon hearing the blast behind him, just in time to see the head blown
off his comrade’s body. “Another grenade gone off in mid-air,” he thought. Seeing
the bodies pile up around him, Mohammad began to ponder the purpose of war. To
him, it just meant senseless killing, more and more by the day. When would the
commanders realise the futility of it all?
Spitting out the
sand that had collected on his lips, Mohammad advanced together with what was
left of his platoon. Obeying their commander’s orders, the platoon moved together,
staying tight and close, yet tactical enough not to be susceptible to grenade
attacks. It warmed him to know that his fellow Iraqis had enough brains to keep
most of them alive in war. Unlike those stupid Americans, he thought. Stupid enough to want to fight on other people’s land for their land. Who wouldn’t lay down
their lives for their country? Those Americans are just sending their troops
off to die.
Over
the horizon, Mohammad spotted yet another whitish mass lumbering downhill. Yet
another bunch of sitting ducks. Mohammad’s commander organised his troops, and
prepared an ambush for a nasty surprise for those troops. The men moved quickly
into position, hushed and ready to pounce.
Upon
the commander’s signal, the entire platoon charged out towards the Americans.
Amongst those whites, the fast reacting ones managed to get down on their fours
in time to avoid that tirade of bullets that pierced the remaining of their
countrymen. In the prone positions they were in, they managed to wipe out a
significant number of Mohammad’s platoon mates as well. Mohammad heard a
bloodcurdling yell, and this time turned to see his buddy’s right arm being
ripped off under the force of a grenade that landed just beside. Suddenly it
was as if all noise ceased around him. Mohammad heard his buddy fall to the
ground, followed by that severed arm with a sickening thud. Torn between two
minds about his own survival and his buddy’s, Mohammad went down on his fours
and tried to stop the bleeding. Too late. By then his
buddy had already lost too much blood. With trembling hands, Mohammad shut his
buddy’s eyes, and then muttered a short prayer.
By the
time Mohammad resumed combat, most of the American force was already wiped out.
Yet another victorious fight for his platoon. But it
was a pyrrhic victory – they had lost another five reliable force. Then again,
was it worth it? They were fighting for their land. They had to defend their
loved ones.
End of
another day at work, Mohammad trudged home, happy to be still in one piece.
*****
“Mum! I
want that handphone!” shrieked Susan.
“It’s
too expensive, I’ll get you another one on payday…”
Mum’s voice trailed off.
She
hated bringing the kids out on weekends where there was
the ubiquitous mobile phone fair offering ultra-modern gadgets that looked more
out of a science-fiction film than for making phone calls. Often the newest
designs had the children clamouring for “upgrades”, as labelled by those
companies. She could jolly well afford those phones, but if her daughters
demanded new ones every time they saw those designs, she would have gone broke
in a few months.
“Let’s
go for ice-cream instead,” Mum endeavoured, trying to cheer up the gloomy faces
on her daughters. It always worked. And it did again, this time.
The
group of three sashayed into Swenson’s, and ordered their favourite Earthquake.
“Quite a good deal, in exchange for a potentially-disastrous outlay of a few
hundred bucks for two new phones,” Mum consoled herself.
Shopping
trip done, Mum was yearning to go home.
“Wait a
moment, mummy! I want to get a new wallet!” the younger brat yelled. Wanting to
avoid a commotion, Mum quickly acceded, and the younger one proceeded to drag
Mum into the wallet shop where she pointed out the design she wanted. Mum
quickly took it, proceeded to the counter, and signed for it.
“Mum’s
tired, let’s go home,” she begged. She only had to look once at the reluctant
look on her daughters’ faces to know she hadn’t much time before the girls
begged to stay around longer.
The
three of them stood on the grass verge beside the road, waving their arms
wildly at every cab they saw. Within seconds, a shining taxi arrived, with an
obliging driver who welcomed them with a bright smile.
“Going to?” he asked.
“
End of another
day out with the girls, Mum thought as she shut her eyes, happy to be going
home.