Part III Of A Diary August 18 Wounded On My Birthday

I’m having someone write this entry of my diary, my hands and arms are useless of this moment. I have been wounded on both arms, my chest, right next to my heart, my legs mobility is coming back and I’ll explain more. I will dictate my entry from my last one on August 17.
After the last firefight, we were ordered to follow the trail of the enemy. They send us four more infantry soldiers to replace some of our losses, but even at that, we are not at full strength. I am the pointman at this moment, my job is to look for booby traps, trip wires, mines and whatever might interfer with our mission. The soldier behind me is my eyes. He watches the enemy while I scan the ground for danger. I’m really scared, I don’t qualify myself as an expert of a pointman, but we all have to do the best of our ability.
I see leaves covered with a lot of blood, foot prints stained in blood, and the flattened weeds are all signs of the enemies retreat. I can tell that they are slowing down, too much lost blood in a concentrated place. I can also detect where they stopped because the wider flatten areas continue to have more blood than when they were dragging their friends. In other places I see different patterns of blood, obviously they are carrying them on their shoulders at certain times. It will be soon when we make a visual contact, I sense it already. It seems as though I have aquired an extra sense because I feel the signs of the enemy nearby.
I have stopped now, my skin has tighten, the enemy is near. I waved at the soldiers behind me because we must be very cautious, they must understand to walk silent. The third man behind me is passing me, what is wrong with him. He is a new soldier and he called me chicken. Yes, I am scared, but not to the point of not doing my job. He is stupid for going off with his little experiece. It’s always the same, new soldiers thinking that what they learned back in bootcamp is enough. If only he knew what I know. He’s walking into a trap, I sense it, I know it.
Stupid, stupid, he just stepped on a booby trap, I would have caught it and disarmed it, but it’s too late, the battle is on. I can hear him screeming, “My legs, my legs, their gone.” They are not gone, I can see him as I am pinned down.
“Shut up, shut, up,” I just told him that. He doesn’t seem to understand that he is giving our position away. The bullets are now right over us and I have to crawled over there and cover his mouth or all of us will be dead. I know he is in pain, but if I don’t do anything none of us will come out of this alive.
I just put my hand over his mouth, poor soldier, he is bleeding bad from his legs. The hidden enemy can no longer detect our position. The bullets are directed somewhere else, I have bought us some time, at least for the moment. I have to bandgage his legs to try and stop the bleeding. I have summons the medic, but he seems to be busy with another soldier. I must hold my position and be alert for the enemy, they know we are in the vicinity.
"Don’t cry soldier, the medic is on his way right now. I can see him, just hold on, don’t worry about your legs, you’re still in one piece. Now, listen to me, I am going to take my hand off of your mouth. You do understand that if I hadn’t done that, those bullets you hear would have found their mark. Bite down on this stick, here’s the medic.
The medic just injected him with some pain killer, I think he’ll be alright for the time being. He will stay with him as we press on. We must move quickly before we become sitting ducks. I hear noises up ahead from the rattling of leaves, their wounded soldiers must be going through hell because they are giving us their locations. We are going to try and flank them. Two soldiers have just left and I can see them at 10:00 oclock high. I must wait for them to be in position.
I have been dictating to the gentlemen that is writing for me. I am weak, my wounds are are sore, and not to mention this guy’s hand from writing so much. As soon I get rested and find somebody else to write for me later, will I continue.

Copyright © 2008 Oscarelizondo

Part III Of A Diary August 18 Wounded On My Birthday


Harlingen, United States

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Artist's Description

I was wounded during this point of my story, so I am going back and forth in the details. I am hoping to have a true account of what is happening. With the help of somebody writing as I dictate, it is hard to finish. I am weak during that time, so Istopped for a while, but I will tell you more later.

Artwork Comments

  • lisameryl
  • oscarelizondo
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