The Church

*Crackle Crackle.. C – c.. CracklEEee.. Cra-*

I dash through the maze in search of my comrade’s prison cell.

*Cra-Cra.. lelele-Crackle-Crackle.. cr..rack.. akle*

“Soldier! Do you read?! The General sent me! I’m on my way!”

*BOOOM* – *BANG BANG BANG* (background noises ensue)

I arrive at the prison cell with enemy soldiers nearby, heaped up, and dead.

I enter the already opened steel door of the prison cell and find my fellow comrade in his cot, sleeping, and wounded by a gunshot. He’s still alive. “Soldier! Wake up! We have to go! Quickly!” He yawns and rolls over, unaware of the blood flowing from his wound. He looks at me, recognizes my uniform (which was never truly my own; it was a gift), and struggles to sit up. I smile at him and say, “Do you still want to leave?” He looks confused and says, “Well I trusted the General, but that didn’t do a whole lot of good, did it?” I shake my head and say, “It’s not trust if you don’t follow.”

He maneuvers his feet off of his cot and tries to stand up but falls back down in pain. He looks down at his pool of blood with tears in his eyes and murmurs out, “I can’t.. I can’t stand up.. I.. I-” He looks up at me and cries out, “Am I still worth it?!” I pause for a moment and ask him, “Do you still trust the General?” He nods in silence, but then slowly stumbles out the words once more, “But.. am I still worth it?” Without any hint of hesitance, I pick him up with all the strength I have left and position him over my shoulders. I confidently remind him, “The words ‘no man left behind’ were never mine to begin with.”

And as I exit the steel door, my General, right outside of the prison cell, says with a proud grin, “They were mine! Well done, My good and faithful soldier. Let’s move!”

No Man Left Behind

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