I Came From The Desert

I Came From the Desert

-Part 1-

I didn’t know how much time I spent being unconscious, but all I could tell was that I was in a world of hurt. Consciousness returned to me slowly, drawing in the aches and pains of my body in a gradual process. I didn’t want to even open my eyes as I feel every twitch of my muscles send some sort of jolt of pain up my body. I could feel my skin and clothes drenched in sweat as I felt like I was stuck in the middle of an oven. I groaned a little, and felt that my throat and mouth had already gone dry as well.

My joints were stiff, and my back and neck were aching something awful, which was probably due to the weird position I found myself in. I was sprawled out haphazardly on my back; my head crammed against a corner of what I assumed was the inside of the Stryker. My arms and legs were draped over some mesh of hard and soft, most likely a rucksack, an assault pack, some debris, or a combination of it all. I wanted to move just then, but some weight was holding my right arm down, and I couldn’t summon the strength at the time to move it. At that point, I decided to simply let my body calm itself down and to come down from whatever shock it had gone through before I tried any drastic moves. In the meantime, my thoughts drifted to my situation, and my other senses started taking in more information.

The first thing I realized was the noise, or lack thereof coming from my surroundings. Other than my breathing and grunting, I couldn’t hear anything or anyone else around me. There was just the faintest sound of wind coming from some indistinct location, but other than that it was dead silent.

Dead silence… I thought to myself, thinking about the people who were in the Stryker with me at the time. My comrades, my buddies… Duffie! I had to know if he was alright at least, I needed to make sure most of all that my best friend was still with me. It may have seemed selfish from another standpoint, but deep down I knew he was the one I cared for the most who was in this Stryker with me. The other guy in the back with us, I couldn’t even recall his face at the time. The driver and passenger, though I had somewhat been acquainted with them, I still couldn’t place names. It was all about my best friend at that moment, and to make sure he was alright.

Though my body ached in protest, I slowly leaned myself upright, my eyes cracking open to take in the scene before me. I felt my breath leave my lungs as I stared ahead, a small whimper escaping my lips.

The Stryker was a mangled mess of metal, gear, tools, and bodies. The driver and passenger in the front were hunched over, blood splattered all over the front windshields which sported cracks and holes scattered around them. There was a messy hole in the front right side of the Stryker, right next to where the other specialist I didn’t know was sitting with metal serrated and bent inwards from an explosion. The body of that same specialist was splayed across the front, his body a mangled mess of blood, flesh, gear, and uniform.

I wanted to yell out and curse, to get myself out of this metallic box of death I had found myself in. But as I tried to spring to my feet or my knees, the weight on my arm tugged me back down, and the resulting pause allowed me to reprocess my thoughts. I steadied by breath and closed my eyes, remembering my training when in stressful situations. First, I had to identify the problem. The problem was that I was stuck in a ruined Stryker with dead bodies all around me… and that I still didn’t know where Duffie was. Next, I had to gather information, and that meant take a full survey of my surroundings.

More calmly this time, I raised myself upward, this time the weight on my arm not surprising me. Nothing was on fire or smoking, meaning whatever fire left over from the explosion had long since extinguished. Furthermore, looking over my shoulder to the right, the back hatch still seemed to be intact, meaning that if I could find the handle, I could open it and get the hell out of there. Deciding that escaping the wreckage would be the best first step, I sought to remove what was pinning down my right arm. As I grabbed onto a piece of fabric and got a firm grip, I looked over to see what needed to be removed-

…And stared into the stilled face of my best friend.

Duffie’s dead, I thought to myself as a thousand other thoughts raced through my mind. As if a million different voices were speaking out simultaneously, the only one I could hear clearly was the one repeating “Duffie’s dead, Duffies’s dead” over and over. I could see the blood trailing down the side of his head with a piece of shrapnel protruding just beside his temple. My hand went to his cheek just then, his skin cold to the touch. I didn’t even bother with a pulse at that point as I had already deduced the fate of my closest pal.

I still need to get out, I told myself, my thoughts overriding my building emotions just then. I need to get moving, to get out here and get help! My training and survival instincts were beginning to kick in, allowing me to push my emotions aside, along with Duffie’s body, and freeing my right arm.

I got up into a regular sitting position, looking around quickly to once more take in my surroundings. Though my mind was buzzing with a cacophony of thoughts and feelings, the overdrive this was sending my mind into allowed me to begin analyzing my surrounds much more quickly and thoroughly than before. My body was still fully intact, albeit a little sore, and my rucksack was below me, seemingly undamaged. My Assault pack was at my side, also seeming undamaged, though my duffle bag about a foot away looked scorched and littered with puncture holes.

My companions’ gear wasn’t in much better shape than my duffle, their stuff all torn up and charred, making me feel more amazed than anything that I too wasn’t turned into swiss cheese. Looking around more, my eyes locked onto the emergency lever beside the back hatch meant to release the door. Quickly I turned the handle, heard an unseen mechanism lurch into motion for a short moment, and then the back hatch drop outward and slam into the ground. Immediately I scrambled out of the Stryker, using the open space to better clear my head and think of my next plan of action.

Stumbling outside, I slowly righted myself as I took in my surroundings. I knew the deserts of Afghanistan, and I knew what the highways and villages of it looked like.

Nothing around me resembled any of that.

It was a desert alright, with a hot sun overhead and not a cloud in the sky, but it was a lot the Sahara than anything else. There was sand in every direction, curving up in low gentle mounds that stretched hundreds of yards each. The only notable sort of landmark was what seemed to be the start of a mountain range in the distance, though that seemed to be at least 30 miles from where I was. There were no roads, no plants, just bare sand and hot, dry air.

The Stryker was in bad shape looking from the inside, and it seemed only worse from the outside. Most of the armor was charred and warped, while the big hole I saw from the inside looked even bigger from the outside. I circled the vehicle slowly, noticing how the ground below it wasn’t disturbed by any sort of explosion, or any signs that the vehicle had moved itself to that location. None of the ground around me was disturbed except for what was directly beneath the vehicle, making it seem as if something had gently set the wreckage, all intact, onto where it was.

I mumbled some expletives to myself as I mulled it all over in my head. I remembered partially seeing the driver area getting shot up for a few moments, and I even remembered hearing the rocket or whatever hit us that made that hole. But there was nothing else here for me to use, no tracks, no signs, just… barren wasteland. I was all alone, and anyone who could help me was gone.

I needed a plan, and in order to make that, I needed to keep a straight mind and take inventory of what was salvageable. And in order to do that, I couldn’t let myself succumb to my emotions, not yet at least.

I returned to the open back hatch of the Stryker, grabbing my rucksack and my assault pack, setting them a couple feet from the wreckage. I quickly began looking through them, making special note not to look back inside the open door in an effort to keep my head in line and reduce the risk of an emotional breakdown. Sifting through my gear, I ensured that it was all intact and began running through a mental checklist of what I had.

In my rucksack I had: one canteen filled with water, one sleeping mat, a wet weather jacket and trousers, a bath towel, a laundry bag filled with – 4 sets of socks, underwear, undershirts, and 2 extra uniforms – my complete sleeping system with my 3 different types of sleeping bags, an extra pair of rifleman’s gloves, leather working gloves, a poncho, a poncho liner, a gator neck, a balaclava, goggles, a set of cold weather silk tops and bottoms, and an MRE.

In my assault pack I had: two extra magazines filled with 30 rounds for my M4, one full change of clothes including uniform, my hygiene kit, another bath towel, and another MRE.

On my person I had: my full uniform and a set of clothes, my assault vest with plates, my rifleman’s vest over that with all my ammo pouches holding 7 magazines – all filled with 30 rounds, elbow pads and knee pads, one full camelback, one M67 grenade, another filled canteen, my wallet with my ID, my phone, my Kevlar helmet, my weapon with a red dot sight and rail system, my personal medical bag, my Gerber, my knife, and my flashlight.

I looked around outside once more, figuring my best destination to be towards the mountains. There was literally nothing else in any direction, and I would need a lot more water than I had on me in order to reach the mountains. And after that… well, I hoped I would find civilization somewhere along the way. In truth I was very much in the dark, and most certainly in the middle of nowhere, so I was simply making educated guesses at that point.

With a sigh I moved back into the Stryker, and actually paused as I looked over my fallen comrades again. Never leave a fallen comrade… I thought to myself as I looked over the bodies. It was part of the soldier’s creed, one of the basic rules by which we live by, yet… there was no way I would be able to recover their bodies all on my own. I would need help to get them back to the states, and standing around in the middle of nowhere wouldn’t get that to happen.

I could feel my chest tightening as I tugged their bags and began to rummage through them for more water and anything else I could carry. It felt wrong that I had to go through their stuff like I was, but I knew it was necessary in order to get me out of there.

I just couldn’t get over the fact that there wasn’t more to do though, and I stopped mid-search to look over the bodies once more, tears building under my eyes.

I blinked the tears away and wiped my eyes with my sleeves, trying to get myself moving again. A nagging thought hit my mind, one that gave me an idea to honor my comrades before I could help them. I remembered seeing it on a war movie, and so I slid my hand down the top of Duffie’s shirt and fished out his dog tags. With a firm tug the chain snapped, and I stared at the tags in my palms for a few seconds before sliding them into my left chest pocket. I never used my chest pockets for anything other than important personal items, so it only felt right to store them there. I moved to each soldier; even those in the front of the ruined Stryker with the blood splattered everywhere, and collected their dog tags in the same fashion.

I then returned to the back of the Stryker and continued rummaging through the damaged bags. My efforts were rewarded with two filled canteens and a nearly full camelback, along with an extra M67 grenade that the passenger had, two MRE’s, and even an unopened bottle of Gatorade. I packed it all away in my rucksack – except for the grenade, which went in an alternate pouch on my vest – and went back in, this time trying to see if there was anything left in my duffle bag that I could use.

My heart skipped a beat as I pulled out my laptop. I cherished this device, not as much as the lives of my friends, but it had a lot of my life’s memories in it. I slowly inspected it, and even pressed the power button to see if it still worked, and by some force of the divines it still did. I so desperately wanted to stuff it in my rucksack and take it with me, but in reality, I couldn’t.

The laptop would have been too much extra weight – especially with the added cords and mouse – and who knows if I would ever find the right civilization anytime soon to use it. Also, when (not if, I liked to think that I would get out of it alive) I was found, I didn’t want them to see that I chose my laptop over other more important survival items. Begrudgingly, I set my laptop back into the bag and set it all back in the remains of the Stryker, confident I would see it again someday.

As I looked over my newly modified rucksack and reassessed the path I planned to take, a thought occurred to me. I knew I had a lot of ground to cover, and with the heat of the desert making it so I would need a lot of water, time was of the essence. I took off my vest with the bulletproof plates, removed my rifleman’s kit from the vest, and equipped just the kit instead. That way I could drop the weight from the plates and the vest, while still keeping the tactical aspects of it with my magazine pouches and other pockets already equipped on the kit. If I had the vest, it would only serve to slow me down more, and I didn’t expect to see any insurgents this far out in the middle of nowhere.

Well, I hoped I wouldn’t, at least.

Finally, I donned my rucksack with my assault pack clipped on top of it, checked my gear one more time, took my M4 in my hands, and set off towards the mountains. I ended up looking back over my shoulder a lot, feeling resentment at leaving the remains of other soldiers behind… but it had to be done. I popped the drinking tube of my camelback into my mouth and began to drink away as I walked, thinking about what had happened and what the future holds for me.

As I walked, another thought popped into my mind. I reached into my right chest pocket and pulled out my phone, the headphones still wrapped around it. I allowed myself a smirk despite myself, and plugged the buds into my ears as I searched through my playlist.

Thank god the battery was still almost full.

“Well thump, icky thunk, oop bap-bap trunk in the radio, dan’an, un~.” I sang to myself as I mindlessly trudged through the desert.

I didn’t really know all the rabble they sang in that song, so I substituted my own noises and sounds to keep with the rhythm of the song. It really didn’t matter to me though, it all kept my mind occupied as I continue to put one step in front of the other, moving towards the mountains at a steady pace.

A buzz from my pocket jolted me back into awareness, and upon pulling out my phone I noticed the warning telling me that my battery was at 50%. I sighed and looked up, noticing the sun to be about halfway between noon and sunset. I figured that by the time I got to the mountains, my battery would be about dead, and I wanted to save it for sometime later – most likely when I’m hiking through the uneven terrain.

I turned my phone off and rolled my headphones up around it, placing it in my right chest pocket before focusing once more on the long walk ahead.

“God damnet,” I swore tiredly, reaching for my camelback’s sipping hose. “I hate deserts.”

By the time I reached the mountains the sun was already beginning to fall into the horizon, and I was feeling like I was about to fall into the ground. My legs hurt and my body was slouched over, my clothes long since drenched over multiple times from sweat. I had already drunk my camelback out three times, each time refilling it with the canteens stored in my rucksack. I was nearing emptying it out a fourth time when I started rounding the first peak, and was surprised to feel the air begin to cool more than usual.

I knew the day was ending, and that the night would bring much cooler air, but what I didn’t expect was such a drastic temperature change. Normally in Afghanistan when night came, the temperature didn’t drop all that much. Yeah it got a lot cooler and felt nicer, it never dropped down to the point where I started to shiver. Although that could have been just my sweat cooling, I still felt put off about the drastic change.

That aside, however, I realized that I was in unfamiliar territory and about to lose my traveling light. Though I still didn’t expect much wildlife since there wasn’t hardly any foliage that I could see around these mountains, the ground w as still very rocky and uneven.

But as I thought about it, I realized something peculiar. I’d been around mountains before, and while from a distance they looked like them, it only seemed like it would take about half an hour to walk around just one, making them seem like abnormally tall and slightly pointy hills. They couldn’t have been more than a thousand feet tall, which I wouldn’t have even considered a mountain at the time.

Working my way up another hillside, I began to shiver more as the temperature dropped even further. My chest and head were still warm from my sustained exercise, but my limbs were beginning to cool off considerably. At that point I realized I would need to find shelter, lest I run the risk of becoming a victim of this barren landscape.

With the light fading, I turned my head left and right in a scanning motion, searching for some sort of deep crevice, large rock formation, or even a cave I might be able to hold up in. To my luck, a large, flat boulder was jutting out the hillside at an angle, promising at least some protection from the elements.

With increased haste I made my way under the rock, dropping my gear on the ground and finally relaxing after several hours of rucking across a desert and a couple hills. I opened and ate the contents of one of my MRE’s, making sure not to waste a single food item while downing another half a canteen. I thought about making a fire, but I quickly banished the thought as I didn’t have any wood or something to even start the fire.

After filling my stomach and looking over my supplies once more, I began to prepare to rest for the night. By that time the sun had already set, and I was working by flashlight to get my makeshift shelter ready. All I did was drape my poncho and poncho liner overhead of the boulder and hold it down with some heavy rocks, allowing the area inside cover from both vision and any wind. Inside I had my mat set down with my summer sleeping bag set up inside of my wet weather shell, in case of rain or morning dew.

As I was undressed down to my boots, pants, and t-shirt, I stepped out of my shelter to have a look around. Normally I would be all about bunking down and getting some shut-eye, but the unfamiliar environment drove me to take another look around since my scrambling to get a shelter put up was over. Crossing my arms from the cold air, I scanned the landscape with a neutral expression, the light of the moon illuminating the ground just enough for me to see. But as I gazed up at the mountain tops, my eyes widened with surprise.

“Holy shit,” I half-gasped, looking past the peaks and focusing on the abnormally bright lights which allowed the area to be so illuminated.

It was beautiful, far more so than I had ever seen it before, bringing a smile across my face. I had always loved the night, and star gazing was one of my favorite things to do when the sky was clear, as it always brought me unparalleled amounts of peace and serenity.

“By the powers…” I whispered to myself, “You really have outdone yourself tonight, Luna.”

It wasn’t uncommon I would find myself talking to the Royal Sisters – mainly Princess Luna – as a sort of inside joke to myself. I loved the show, and even though I knew it was all fictional, I liked to sometimes pretend that they existed, and they could hear my words when I spoke out to the night. I never spoke out in the day, however… I liked the night time a lot more.

After a long sigh, I closed my eyes and gently whispered into the night “Goodnight Princess Luna… and so long, Duffie. May the stars guide you, my friend.”

With tears threatening to stain my cheeks once more, I slowly made my way into my shelter, my mind and body getting its first chance to rest.

I woke up sometime with an odd sense of paranoia. I was almost instantly wide awake, looking around defensively as if I was being watched. It left me feeling uncomfortable, and I was quick to tug my M4 from beside my sleeping bag to my chest. It may have been just the feeling of being alone and in an unknown place, but I didn’t really know.

The sun was up already, and it looked like it had only recently risen over the horizon. It was also warm out, yet not the same scorching heat that the desert I recently trudged through had. Slowly, and careful to keep an eye on my surroundings, I began to tear down my little camp and pack everything up. I stopped for a while once I was ready to go, and opted to have another MRE for breakfast. With only two more remaining, I would either need to ration what I had left, or find another source of food.

Once that was finished, I hefted my stuff onto my back, and drove on with M4 in hand, this time with a magazine loaded into the magazine well. I didn’t have a round loaded into the chamber, but I figured it better to be prepared than not if trouble arose, and considering my surroundings, I had no idea when or if that the time for that would come.

I looked at my watch several hours later, seeing the time 12:13 displayed on the screen. I looked up, seeing the sun in the middle of the sky just as it should be. I was thankful that it wasn’t nearly as hot as it was yesterday, yet there were more pressing matters to be concerned about. I was hungry again, and really wishing I could eat another MRE, but I knew I had to conserve that. I was also down to my last filled canteen; with my camelback I was using already half empty from the last canteen fill-up.

It was around that time that my luck started to turn up, and as I crested another slope I saw a creek flowing between two of the mountains. I chuckled to myself, smiling dumbly as I quickly jogged my way down to it. I decided to rest there for a while as well, my legs feeling immediately relieved once I removed my packs and sat down beside the water.

I didn’t have any purification tablets, or any way to boil it to remove bacteria, but it was definitely better than nothing. Besides, I thought I remembered from somewhere that mountain stream water was supposed to be pretty safe to drink anyway, so I used that as an excuse to not worry about it as I took a long drink and filled up all of my canteens and my other camelback.

Feeling calm and relaxed, I opted for a bit of a nap, knowing that my legs desperately needed a reprieve. Though there still wasn’t anything moving from where I could see, I felt confident that I was still alone. I pushed my earlier paranoia aside and laid back against my ruck, slowly shutting my eyes as I hugged my M4 close to my chest.

I was roused from my sleep as a peculiar noise reached my ears, nagging at my brain until I eventually realized that it wasn’t coming from a dream. It was like a high pitched squeak from up above, and I quickly opened my eyes and turned my head to search for the source of the noise.

It didn’t take me long to discover a small brown bird fluttering around overhead, chirping away as it circled the area. I stared at it as it eventually turned and flew over a nearby hill and out of sight, leaving me once more in silence.

My first thought was how nice it was to see a bird again, which calmed me slightly, but within moments I was on my feet and staring at where I saw it fly off. Wait, a bird wouldn’t be around a barren mountain range unless… maybe there’s something over that hill, like a forest, or habitable land! Driven by my excitement, I quickly donned my gear once more and raced up the hill, ignoring the pain in my legs as they were so abruptly forced back into action.

My breathing was heavily labored by the time I reached the top, but my efforts were rewarded as I gazed upon the scene before me.

There was a light forest just ahead, gradually building up as it wound around the rocky hills and stretched to the horizon. Looking further out I could see what looked to be small buildings, as if a village lay either within or at the other edge of the forest, a clear sign of civilization.

I looked to my watch for a brief moment, seeing the time as 15:07. It would be a stretch, but I figured I would be able to make it there before sundown if I moved quickly enough. I was still hungry, and my legs were also pretty sore even after my nap, but the prospect of getting to the next step back to safety was enticing.

I had to be cautious though, as I didn’t really know much afghan, and there may be insurgents within the village. Perhaps the cover of night would be better after all, I thought to myself, contemplating my options. Eventually I figured I would play things out on the fly, figuring I would be able to work things out in the midst of things.

Certainly one of my most notable factors was my tendency to “Leeroy” myself into things, often jumping into the fray or waltzing into somewhere when more thought or planning would be suggested. It’s gotten me in trouble a few times, but never to a significant amount.

As I started down the hill and towards the edge of the forest, I hoped that my good luck wouldn’t run out just yet.

The sun was setting by the time I started hearing noises up ahead. The forest had gotten considerably thicker, but I didn’t mind. It felt great to transition from a sand-covered wasteland to a cool, comforting forest, but I couldn’t help but think at times that it was happening too quickly. It was true that I had recently passed a rather drastic terrain feature, but I still expected more distance between such radically different climates.

Nevertheless, I slowed my approach as I came upon an exceptionally thick layer of shrubbery, sneaking around on my side while trying to peer through the leaves. I didn’t want to randomly walk into a random town in a foreign country and get myself in a heap of trouble I couldn’t get out of, I needed to collect information first. But as I skirted around more, I began thinking critically over the events that had transpired since I woke up.

Why had the Stryker I was in and the bodies of my friends get deposited in the middle of some unknown desert? How come the mountains were not as large as they normally were around Afghanistan, and textured so differently? How was it that I could cross an entire range within a day, and come out into a forest? And why was it that Afghan locals were speaking perfect English?

…

Wait a second…!

I immediately poked my head through a bush, and came face to face with a colorful pony.

Silence took over us as we stared at each other. My brain worked in overdrive to process w hat was in front of me, while simultaneously gawking incredulously at the fact that there was a pony with the exact same features one would expect from my favorite show right in front of me. Its coat was a light brown and accented with a maroon colored mane and small pointed beard, though without any horn or wings. By the look of his snout, I deduced his gender to be male, and as I continued to stare dumbly at him, I could see him hooves start to slowly backpedal.

It doesn’t take long for me to come up with something to say. I drew upon my powers Leeroy and spoke to him in as much of a friendly, yet mature voice as possible.

“Well hello there!” I said, ripping the exact tone and facial features from Obi Wan Kenobi when he jumped down in front of General Grievous in Episode III.

Judging by how he continued to backpedal, I may not have approached the situation in the best way.