The Flower

   

The sun was high over our heads as I stood in the turret of the RG-31 Mine Resistant Vehicle. Our platoon had been tasked with conducting route clearance, or clearing the improvised explosive devices, from the roadways of Sadr City, Iraq. The route was named ‘Bravo’ and we had stopped at its entrance to await further instructions from our higher command. My vehicle was the lead gun truck so I had an unobstructed view of this once grand city. The streets were flooded with water from a ruptured water line creating an image that we were about to drive ourselves into the Euphrates River. Several buildings lining the streets were burning and shattered lending me a feeling that Satan had only half constructed his hellish domain before we arrived. I noticed that there was not a soul walking the sidewalks for the rough mile to the next intersection and voiced my concern to my vehicle commander.

“Yeah? So?” He said annoyingly.

“So, if they ain’t walking the streets then there is probably an I.E.D. or two out there. Or maybe under the water.” I shouted over the sound of our running vehicle.

“Reed, there are I.E.D.’s all over this city. That is why we are here. Just make sure you find them before they get you. And watch them roof tops and windows for snipers. Second platoon said there is an ol’ boy out here with a .50 cal sniper rifle popping off gunners so keep your head low.”

I shook my head and lightly kicked the back of his seat to show that I acknowledged his orders. I stood silently scanning the empty streets and watched the billowing clouds of smoke climb from the market buildings towards the heavens. Months of trash was piled along the curbing and in some places five feet high providing a perfect hiding place for the enemy to hide their I.E.D.’s. My nose was saved from this horrid smell only by the slight breaks of diesel that wafted from my vehicle. For the first time I noticed the emptiness in the pit of my stomach; a place that normally would harbor a family of butterflies to dance and let me know that I was not comfortable with my situation. This situation somehow seemed different; more deadly, more life threatening than any of the other I had experienced in combat. My hands had begun to shake, the sweat poured from my body, tickling little trails across my torso and down my legs. The city had gone from being just another mission to a tomb of certain death that I could not escape. The anticipation was eating me alive.

            Frantically, I turned my head from side to side, expecting to find an IED or more correctly an EFP (explosion formed projectile) nestled like a viper next to my vehicle poised ready to strike and kill me, yet I found the opposite. There, among the ruins of a building, stood a small yellow flower; much in shape and color of a sunflower. The brightness of its pedals seemed more extreme in contrast of the grey bricks that lay as its neighbors. In that flower, I found comfort and I smiled. See, my wife’s favorite flower was the sunflower and in seeing that flower I caught a glimpse of the many smiles I had brought to her face when I would surprise her with one of those gems. The emptiness in my stomach began to ease. As I let my eyes gaze up from my wife’s flower I found that there was two white boards nailed in the shape of a cross leaning against the far wall of the rubble. I could not remove my eyes from that cross and found myself once again comforted; this time by the sweet hands of God. It wasn’t clear if I would make it out of that trip alive but at that time there was only one thing I wanted. I quietly thanked God for yesterday, today, and hopefully tomorrow, and asked him to comfort my wife while I ventured into Hell...