• As Jake sat on the pile of sandbags at Post 01, he surveyed the area around him. Wondering about a possible attack on the base worried him. Thoughts that he might have to kill scared him. He had been taught how to shoot effectively, how to fight in hand-to-hand combat -and among many other things- how to kill. The prospect did not excite him.
    He was told earlier that he would be manning the post for the first time since he had arrived on foreign soil. Previously, it had been his job to monitor the radio traffic from all of the posts in the American areas of the base. Being only 19 years old, he was surprised to find himself here. He had enlisted in the Marine Corps fresh out of high school with the intention of going to war and fighting for his country. This was hardly what he had expected.
    Suddenly, something rustled in the sand behind him. He trained his sight through the darkness towards the spot with reflexes only months of training fueled by adrenaline could offer. There was nothing there. He sighed.
    All night long he had been on edge. His mind was playing tricks on him, that was all. But somehow it seemed more than that.
    It was getting late and he was tired. His watch said that the local time was 1:45 AM. It was almost time for his shift to end. Performing his last radio check, he asked the Base Defense Operations Command if the truck was on its way to drop off his relief.
    "The truck should be there shortly, 01." said the radio operator through Jake's handset.
    "Roger that, Post 01 out." replied Jake.
    With that he started to pack up his gear. His bag, his book, and his flashlight were all accounted for. He was ready to finish up and go get some well deserved rest. It seemed there would be no attacks on the base after all. After gathering his gear, he trained his ears for the sound of a humvee pulling in out of the darkness.
    In that instant, a flashlight bounced back and forth off the HESCO barriers in front of him, much to fast for a vehicle to do.
    With almost superhuman speed, he spun around lifted his weapon. He had already put in a magazine and racked a round in the chamber earlier in the night. His M16A4 found a target.
    A young man stood about four feet from the end of the barrel of his M16.
    "Whoa man! Relax! Don't shoot plea-" said the man.
    "Shut the ******** up! Back up!" yelled Jake. The man did as he was told.
    "Who are you?!" He continued.
    "I'm just here to take your post! Please don't shoot man!" The man said nervously.
    Jake waited for his eyes to adjust. The adrenaline was flowing rampantly through his veins and his vision had gone blurry for a few seconds. Slowly, the man standing before him became clearer. He was wearing Marine Corps camouflage. he had all the right indicators of being a Marine. But Jake hesitated. All he would have to have done was flip the safety with his thumb and pull the trigger and the man in front of him would be gone. No.
    Jake lowered his rifle, wondering what the man would do. He merely sighed. Jake almost wanted to hug him for putting him through that. He couldn't imagine what it might have been like to stare down that barrel. He didn't want to either. Something pushed the thought away inside his head.
    "I'm sorry, man." said Jake.
    "Uh, yeah no worries I guess. You look like you could use some sleep. Why don't you go back to the BDOC and report in? I got this here."
    "Right... Thanks."
    With that, Jake began the walk from Post 01 towards the BDOC. As he was walking, he wondered what his Sergeant might have to say about all this...