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The sun hung in the sky, its rays seemed to boil the air. The humidity was high enough one could soak it up with a sponge. The sweat poring out of his pores turned his uniform into hot wet rags; his ammo vest raised his body temperature even further. The weapon in his hands grew heavier with each passing moment. Inside his boots, his feet swam with moisture. Not thirty minutes earlier, he had taken a shower, stepping out of it and already feeling the need for another.

The oppressive wet heat had been taking its toll hourly for the past few weeks. The soldier playfully wondered what sin he had committed to be cast into this hell. He had been drinking water often to prevent dehydrating, still nothing would fend off the unbearable heat. Every day was the same day to him. Every morning he would rise out of the cot he did not sleep in, put on a uniform that had not yet dried from the day before, and eat a breakfast that did not satisfy. The days would drone on.

Keeping track of time, or even the date, made matters worse, it would only serve to remind him that he was still there. He had stopped dreaming of what he would do when he got back awhile ago. He could barely remember what dry felt like. The soldier hardly recalled what a good night’s sleep felt like. He scarcely remembered what he was supposed to be doing.

“Oh right, deliver a message to the motor pool sergeant.”

He plodded down the half mile road between the camps. Looking up into the sun, drops of sweat fell into his eyes. He rubbed them away with the back of his hand and reached for his water bottle. Unscrewing the cap he lifted it high to hungrily gulp down the ounces. As he drank one of his sodden feet stumbled on a rock. Being out of sorts he panicked a little. And this panic caused more.

He inhaled heavily but the water bottle was still at his mouth. His lungs filled with water and caused further grief. He spastically coughed and then his lungs quit working. He was unable to cough any more. The water would not come out. He was drowning.

Standing there, eyes watering with distress, he frantically looked side to side for help. There was no one around. He was dead center of the road, halfway between the two camps, and no one, at either camp, was looking in his direction. His mind raced through alternatives as his body tried to get the unwilling lungs to work. There was no time for philosophy or internal banter. He was going to die.

“I can’t die like this! I’m a soldier! I can’t be drowning!” His mind screamed…

 

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