War ⇔ Cashton ✓

Manhood

ASHTON

Since joining the army, I have noticed that most men don't come for the joy of it, for the satisfying praise of fighting for our country. No, most men come to claim their manhood. The boys do not realize that that is the one of the many things war takes away when they arrive, all smiles and fresh uniforms that has not touched a spot of dirt. The eighteen year olds saunter in in their crisp clothes and write brave letters to their families about how war is tough and fun, but that's before they have experienced sprinting through mud and decomposing flesh, dodging bullets and feeling the ground shake from grenades under your stumbling feet. That is before you have watched your best friend crumple into a lifeless form directly in front of your eyes, before you have writhed in excruciating pain deep inside a trench, where no one can hear your screams over the sound of gunfire. War doesn't prove your manliness to anyone, not even yourself. It gets you bigger muscles and scarred skin, but all it does is prove that life is present, not the past or the future. Life is now, and you better fight through the blood to see the light on the other end, or you will not see it at all.

They came and picked up the letters this morning. My heart lifted in that Calum would be receiving word from me soon, to ease his flaming nerves. I know he has been going through shit at home, with his terrible parents. I used to be able to protect him from them, but now that I am gone, I can only hope that he isn't slipping.

The lieutenants gave us more paper and a pen today, which was out of the ordinary, considering they normally only let us write letters in a designated time period. They seem to understand how sacred those times are to us, so they are letting us keep writing material in our pockets so that we can write to our loved ones as we hike through our journey. I am eternally grateful. This paper and pen is the best gift I have received in years.

I sit on the edge of my cot, lacing up the thick boots on my feet. My fingers twist around the laces, making sure they are knotted multiple times so that they won't come undone.

"Do you know what we are doing today?" I ask Michael, who is pocketing the few possessions he has as we all get prepared to leave, knowing we will not be back for a while. Michael nods, glancing around the room to see if he forgot anything.

"Getting on a plane. Flying to a different base camp, but we won't be staying there." Michael says, rubbing his scarred hands together. "We're supposed to be getting more weapons there."

"Hopefully some more gas masks." Luke adds from where he is sitting on his cot. He has already started writing on the sheets of paper given to us, since he apparently forgot a few things to say on his recent letter. I have a million things I could say to Calum that would fill up thousands of books, but I need to say those things in person. I need to be able to see his immediate reaction, and press my lips against his. I can't, so scattered letters will have to do.

I finish tying my boots and I stand up, making sure they are secure on my feet before walking over to the desk that is in the corner of the room, picking up the writing material and sliding it into my pack. I look back on the dresser and my chest aches when I realize I almost forgot to grab my picture of Calum. I carefully pick it up, trying not to let my calloused fingers tear the paper as I admire it. His hair was a mess, because I took it when he had just woken up. His eyes were squinted closed as he laughed, one hand reaching out towards the camera as though he were to try and stop me from capturing the moment. I smile at the memory before gently putting it away, just as a hard knock sounds on the door.

The door opens, revealing one of the lieutenants, and he merely says, "We're out," before continuing down the hallway, replaying the same message to the others. The three of us move out the door, the sound of stomping boots filling our ears. I join the mass of soldiers in the hallway as we all move out of the building that we only arrived in last night, not quite so eager to get on one of the small planes and travel towards yet another camp.