2015. Week 5.

I'd like to go back to a little poetry this week. The movie "American Sniper" got me thinking about my own military training and the harsh reality of what that training was actually meant for.

I have unearthed many things about myself as a result of this writing project. Not the least of which is how impacted I was by my short time in the service. I was active for 2 years and in the reserves for about 5 years. My job was Quartermaster - supply. I worked in the motor pool, the unit supply room and ultimately the armory. I did not see combat, although I did serve overseas during Desert Storm. I have been out of the service for over 15 years at this point. Yet, it still continues to effect and influence me to this very day.

I can only begin to imagine how those soldiers that do go to hostile territories and see things the rest of us only have nightmares about are impacted. 



Trained Killer

I am a trained killer.
Do not be fooled by my kind exterior,
my inappropriate, uncomfortable giggles,
my oft-shy expression or
my lighthearted appearance.

I am a trained killer.
A rifle was place in my hands.
I was shown how to clean it,
how to disassemble it,
how to lay out the pieces
...the firing pin, the bolt, the muzzle, the grip...
in such a way
they are quickly found
and put back together
when needed.

I am a trained killer.
I was taught how to carry that rifle,
how to not carry it,
how to march with it,
how to stand with it,
...at ease, at parade rest, at attention...
how to sleep with it.

I am a trained killer.
A rifle was placed in my hands.
I was taught how to shoot it,
how to aim,
how to adjust the sites to account for
...windage, angle, barrel, astigmatism...
how to breathe,
how to find that natural pause in between breaths,
how to fire.

I am a trained killer.
I once carried a rifle for my country.
I was prepared to take a life.
I was prepared to give mine.