Going through files tonight, I came across something I'd written May 20, 1999 - stuck in a folder and forgot. All these years later, I open it. At the time I thought, "Just a dream!"
But it's years later, and I've got more research and information under my belt. Just a dream, yes - Just a dream recorded by a young mother who'd never been anywhere in her life. Who'd had militant dreams from childhood and didn't even know why she "shouldn't leave her post" and tended to stand straight and firm. Now I know. But then - a recording of innocence.
Posted here word for word:
I was a soldier, sort of. I don't exactly recall how it happened but there was a friend with me. She and I were standing outside a military building.
"Come on," she said to me. So we walked inside like we belonged, somehow stole a couple of uniforms, and paraded around like soldiers. She wore a general's bars on her shoulders. I had the silver bars of a lieutenant. The uniforms themselves were khacky green.
(Of course these days I know I was wrong about the bars - and the details are too faded for me to figure it out.)
Perhaps it went too far, but somehow we were mistaken not only for the real thing but ended up on a plane to go the war zone. A secret mission or some such. Of course, when it comes to war every maneuver has to remain a secret because you don't want the enemy knowing what you're up to.
I was fascinated, looking down at the ground below. Thousands of men in uniform were across the fields. I remember in particular one was apparently wounded and he dug in the soil, trying to use his gun as leverage to stand. They reminded me of a bucket of soldiers littered across the play yard.
Upon landing, a high ranking soldier, could have been a general of something, approached us. He mistook my friend for someone important. I saluted. She did not. He started talking to her, asking us our business etc. Something about plans. I started to answer, as he was looking at me, but he sort of sniffed in my direction and turned to her. I shut my mouth, for fear of being discovered in this zany adventure.
We went to the mess hall to eat. There were soldiers all around us, but I don't remember what exactly happened here. I kept looking at my lieutenant bars, thinking that I hadn't wanted to portray anything more than a private, and wanted to find someplace secret to take them off.
We met the general again. He was haughty to me, and said something to the effect of, "I have no time for people who masquerade as lieutenants when they're nothing more than privates. That's a hanging offense, private!" My friend was taken for the real thing, even though she was just as much a fraud as I.
I followed my friend because I had wanted to do something good. I was nervous, but not willing to turn in my stolen uniform. I wanted an adventure, to make my mark, and I was there in the war zone to do something heroic. Something good. I can't describe the feeling; The need to do something.
There was a guy. We were in the field, running or something. Can't remember the rest.
But it's years later, and I've got more research and information under my belt. Just a dream, yes - Just a dream recorded by a young mother who'd never been anywhere in her life. Who'd had militant dreams from childhood and didn't even know why she "shouldn't leave her post" and tended to stand straight and firm. Now I know. But then - a recording of innocence.
Posted here word for word:
I was a soldier, sort of. I don't exactly recall how it happened but there was a friend with me. She and I were standing outside a military building.
"Come on," she said to me. So we walked inside like we belonged, somehow stole a couple of uniforms, and paraded around like soldiers. She wore a general's bars on her shoulders. I had the silver bars of a lieutenant. The uniforms themselves were khacky green.
(Of course these days I know I was wrong about the bars - and the details are too faded for me to figure it out.)
Perhaps it went too far, but somehow we were mistaken not only for the real thing but ended up on a plane to go the war zone. A secret mission or some such. Of course, when it comes to war every maneuver has to remain a secret because you don't want the enemy knowing what you're up to.
I was fascinated, looking down at the ground below. Thousands of men in uniform were across the fields. I remember in particular one was apparently wounded and he dug in the soil, trying to use his gun as leverage to stand. They reminded me of a bucket of soldiers littered across the play yard.
Upon landing, a high ranking soldier, could have been a general of something, approached us. He mistook my friend for someone important. I saluted. She did not. He started talking to her, asking us our business etc. Something about plans. I started to answer, as he was looking at me, but he sort of sniffed in my direction and turned to her. I shut my mouth, for fear of being discovered in this zany adventure.
We went to the mess hall to eat. There were soldiers all around us, but I don't remember what exactly happened here. I kept looking at my lieutenant bars, thinking that I hadn't wanted to portray anything more than a private, and wanted to find someplace secret to take them off.
We met the general again. He was haughty to me, and said something to the effect of, "I have no time for people who masquerade as lieutenants when they're nothing more than privates. That's a hanging offense, private!" My friend was taken for the real thing, even though she was just as much a fraud as I.
I followed my friend because I had wanted to do something good. I was nervous, but not willing to turn in my stolen uniform. I wanted an adventure, to make my mark, and I was there in the war zone to do something heroic. Something good. I can't describe the feeling; The need to do something.
There was a guy. We were in the field, running or something. Can't remember the rest.
No comments:
Post a Comment