Paradox of a Young Man
June 5, 2008
Robert Townsend
I love my country just as much as anyone could ever have. I believe in the values that Osea has shown me when I joined the Osean Air Defense Force last year. Every morning, I was proud and eager to pledge to the Osean flag and to support my nation any way I could. Being a fighter pilot could have been the best choice in my life that I've ever made. Ever since I could remember, I was in awe with flight and the military. I've wanted to become a fighter pilot ever since the first time someone asked me what I want to be when I grew up. As soon as I was old enough, I applied for the job the day after I got my diploma from high school. The training was at times though, but I got through it alright. Finally, on November 1994, I became a fighter pilot in the Wardog Squadron.
Our leader was a person called Bartlett, but in the air he was referred to as "Kid". He's a pretty good person, a sort of relaxed guy who really didn't care about much that went on around him. The first time he saw me, he was somewhat sickened at my pride for Osea. When I asked him why, he told me that Osea wasn't all that great and that we do just as much evil as everybody else in the world. All I did was to doubt that and forgot about what he said over time, but it would come back to me later in the war.
It was late 1995 in Hoffnung, Belka. By now, I had some combat experience and was by now an ace with fifteen kills under my belt. Again, I was proud of what I did for Osea and fifteen dead didn't affect me as much. The day after the Hoffnung bombings would change that though.
We have captured and occupied Hoffnung within hours of the bombings. The next morning, Wardog was stationed there to protect the surrounding area from Belkan forces. When I landed my F-5E on the landing strip of the airport and went to town, I saw what Osea has done the night before. In the street were little children, some as young as two, wandering around in the rubble from fallen buildings. They were crying and yelling for their parents, hoping to see them again. A few unlucky kids found them though, some parents were missing an arm, leg, or even most of their body, but all were dead. The children would move around, maybe thinking they were just asleep and could wake them up. Some of the older children realized what had happened to them and just rested their heads on their mom or dad, sobbing at the lost of what was to them the greatest person in the world. One four year old even came up to me and asked what was wrong with he mom, holding up a head of a woman without the rest of her body. The sight just sickened me and it got worse as I saw an Osean Army truck drive down the same street. The soldiers in the back of the truck were handing out relief boxes, which contained a bottle or two of water, some food, and a small toy. As they were doing so, I saw that they showed no emotions towards these orphaned children and some even produced a slight grin as the truck rolled by, saying stuff such as "Belkan bastards" and the like. Now, I don't even know how I could ever be the way I was before I saw this carnage.
"This is war son, like it or not." Bartlett told me when I returned to the base. "Look kid, sometimes this happens. War isn't perfect, nothing is. If it was, then we wouldn't have jobs now would we?"
I was given a pass back to Osea for a week of vacation. I arrived in Banana City, where a lot of my friends were in college. I had some good times meeting up with them again, but the thought of the war and those children still lingered inside of me. By the end of the week, I couldn't get the children out of my mind and I couldn't take it anymore. By chance, I found the same guy I saw on the truck that was grinning at the site of complete devastation and loss. He was on the same flight as mine and I sat next to him, having a chat with him. I passed the time by writing this letter to you, whoever may read this, talking about what was going on and how I'm reacting to it. I wanted him to pay for his ignorance, laughing at the site of children losing their livelihoods as a result of our actions. I waited until we landed at the airport in Hoffnung before I acted on my vengeance.
After we had touched down, I pulled out my service pistol and shot him just above the left ear. He went down quick and the people on the plane were terrorized because of this. Once the plane stopped on the runway, the emergency exits opened up and most of the passengers escaped, except for a middle-aged man that I grabbed as a hostage. I moved to one of the doors and pointed the gun at his head.
Outside were many police officers as the passengers. I told them I would shoot him and the police asked me why I was doing this, but I didn't respond. It was the duty of this letter to explain everything to them, but for now nothing was said. After what seemed like five minutes, nothing happened and I lost my patience. My finger pressed against the trigger and it sent a 9mm bullet through his head and out the other side. Before he even began to drop on the floor, I bolted deeper inside the airplane to avoid any bullets the police might have sent my way. I went back to the letter that I placed on one of the seats and I finished writing all that I want to say to you. I wanted to kill the man who showed deep disrespect to helpless children, but I wasn't wishing to harm the second man. I only shot him to provoke the police into ending my life. I can't take anymore of this messed up world and I want out of it; hopefully, as soon as I walk in front of that door again, a snipe will be waiting for me and will send a bullet straight into my head, ending it once and for all.