From the Diary of a U.S. Soldier | Jessica Flory

“17 October:

“Today was so hot and I was unbearably tired and needed sleep so badly! I was nodding off every five seconds. I just wanted to die. On top of that, there was the lieutenant doing his “bored thing”. Every time this guy gets bored, he thinks up some new rule to make us more irritated and uncomfortable. Today I was about to fight someone and I did not care who. I just had the desire to smash someone's head in.”

Matthew Harrison read over what he had written, clicked his pen into useless mode, and closed his journal. He leaned his head against the wall of the barracks and closed his eyes. The smell of the desert in Iraq singed his nose hairs, but he took a deep breath, which made his eyes sting and start to water. He let the drops of salt water fall from his eyes and course evenly down his cheeks.

Suddenly, the smell of a campfire filled his nostrils. The temperature had fallen, which, mixed with the smell of the campfire, made it perfectly cool outside. He continued to sit, his head against the barracks' wall, not wanting to open his eyes for fear it would disappear. Sweet memories flooded his mind. The prospects of holidays and snow, family and Christmas were kindled within his heart, and it filled him with intoxicating joy.

###

The tower was a long way from anywhere, but at the same time it was too close for the kind of privacy he wanted at this moment. He took a last glance toward the base, but knew that nobody would really be watching him. Nobody cared. Nobody cared that Matthew Harrison was on the other side of the planet, sitting under a jentacular sun that his tower roof did not supply shade for yet. He was alone.

Slowly, he pulled from within his jacket the seventh book of the Harry Potter series. He laughed at himself for reading such nonsense, but found this book to be an escape from his surroundings, from his life. He opened to the eleventh chapter of the book and began to read.

Not long into the reading of his new-found life, a voice that sent blood chilling sensations up and down his spine barked at him. He knew, as soon as the sound reached his ears, that he was in for the worst treatment of his life. Dread crawled down to the pit of his stomach. He could feel the color drain from his face and his whole body went limp and heavy. Terror began to play with his gag reflexes.

“Harrison! What do you think you're doing?” Sergeant Hayes was livid and began using more than his usual profane vocabulary to cuss Matthew out.

Physical pain did not cross Matthew's mind at this moment. He could handle what came in that sense. However, it was the words that brought Matthew to a sense of pure hatred toward his team leader.

“...Article 15!” Hayes was angrily yelling, “And you know what that means, Harrison.”

Yes, Matthew knew. Article 15 meant a reduction in rank and no pay for the month. The fire in Matthew's bowels burned higher and brighter, turning his face a deep shade of angry red.

###

“23 October:

“I hate my life. I can barely get through a day with a headphone in and a book at the shack. Now those things are being taken away too. I hate my team leader. It seems to me that the more I vent the better it gets. But the part that burns me up the most is the prospect of having to deal with the same stuff for seven more months. I think I would rather die. It is going to be nothing short of a miracle from God that will keep me sane and allow me to finish this tour. All this stress has helped me develop a nasty habit of swearing. I hate it and I wish that I felt that there was some other release. I have nowhere to go. I just get weaker and more and more angry. I pray to God that I don't kill somebody or go insane. I hope God has mercy on me and I hope He will understand why I am acting this way. I hope I can find the light. God help me.”

Matthew tucked his journal and pen under his bunk and made his way to the tower. Once there, he would sit and try to force his mind elsewhere without the help of books or music. Wishful thinking, Matthew thought bitterly, for he knew that without the aid of escape routes, his mind would never leave Camp Bucca. Hopelessly, he lowered himself onto the floor of the tower, leaned against the wall, and looked out over the vast stretch of pavement-like sand.

Footsteps could soon be heard coming up the stairs of the tower. Matthew gave no heed, and he continued to stare into the desert. Someone sat across from him, but he gave no sign of acknowledgment until the man spoke. The nervousness in his voice made it almost inaudible, but it forced the two men to catch the others' eye.

“H-Harrison, I'm Charlie Fullmer. I was told to come watch with you.”

“Welcome,” Matthew said sarcastically, “to my Tower of Terror.”

Matthew jumped when Charlie laughed out loud. The young man even slapped his knee, which produced a more humorous effect. Much to Matthew's surprise, his own lips curved into a smile barely noticeable as Charlie continued in his guffaw.

“That was a good one!” Charlie said, once he could breathe again. “Have you ever been there? To the Tower of Terror?”

“Nope. Just heard of it.”

“Ah, it's an amazing place, it is. I went there when I was small, but it scared the pants offa me, so I ain't forgotten it.”

In the silence that followed, Matthew offered a small grunt of a laugh. This seemed to be a welcome invite for Charlie because he began talking yet again.

“So, Sergeant Hayes busted you for headphones, huh? I tell ya', you gotta be careful in this business. They'll getcha when you least expect it...”

Matthew's anger forced him to tune out immediately. Thoughts of days past and encounters with officers of higher rank swept through his already bitter mind. He could feel the anger compressing in his chest and in his head. The angry animal within him lashed out at his insides, which produced a terrible stomach ache.

He didn't know how long Charlie babbled on, but he was very grateful when Sergeant Loria appeared and ordered the boy elsewhere. All was silent once again, but this didn't help the surge of emotions that were now running at full speed through Matthew's body. He wanted to escape, he wanted to forget, and be released from this terrible nightmare he was having. But waking up wouldn't be a solution in this situation. Every day he woke up brought new frustrations and a newborn hatred for everyone and everything around him. No, waking up only made this nightmare worse.

More footsteps brought Matthew back to the tower. This time, he looked up to see who had disturbed his angry intellection. The man who was standing there was sure to place these bitter recollections into another present reality. Sergeant Hayes wasn't going to make this moment any better.

###

“25 October:

“Hayes showed up at the tower yesterday and we ended up talking for an hour and forty-five minutes. He sat down and went over everything. He laid out the big picture and actually showed me that he cares. That was an unusual thing coming from an NCO.

“I had some distinct impressions as he talked with me. The most powerful is thus: My attitude has been really terrible. I mean, I have had so much resentment that I am amazed that I have made it as long as I have. My attitude is changing. I need to stop listening to talks or music on tape and I need to stop reading books at the CCT shack, and just deal with what I have been dealt. There are definitely some behaviors that needed to be changed and philosophies that needed to grow up. I want to be a man of stature, someone you can look up to. Camp Bucca is going to be the place where I learn what it takes to become a man. This gives great meaning to my experiences and the sacrifices that are to be made. I will soon be able to call myself a man. I think that I am beginning to know what that means now.

“I am so thankful to God to have given me these pieces of knowledge that have enabled me to see through the mists of darkness that are about me. I have been given enough light to penetrate the darkness and see my way through.”

After reading through his entry once more, he shut his journal and pushed it beneath his bed. Laying there in the dark, staring into space, he let the thoughts of the day rush through his head. No longer was the angry animal slashing at his gut, trying to get out, and no longer did his bitterness constrict his breathing. The animal within lay silent, comfortable, and he felt as if he would burst. Not because of anger, but because of the thrill of his initial discoveries and successes.