An Cosantóir

www.military.ie THE DEFENCE FORCES MAGAZINE | 21 pravity? He'd seen almost all there is to see. Or, had he? Had he yet another new frontier to see? The intan- gible barrier, the divide between the rational and the dim, dingy dark distance of derange. "Is he reacting to anything… anything in the slightest?" "No Sir. No… he's totally withdrawn. Like a tortoise that's pulled its head into it's shell, still alive but not functioning. He's there… he eats what's put out for him. He drinks… no beer, no soft drinks, only water. He even controls his hygiene… sneaks into the ablutions at night. Primeval… yet, he somehow knows to stick to basics." The young Lt turned toward Sgt Ross, imploring eyes de- manding a better explanation. He held the Sgt's gaze as best he could even as the bitter bile of revulsion crept its way into his parched mouth. "Sgt, I see the shell of a man who's most likely not many months older than me. I see dead eyes, I sense an aura of death all around, well, I think that's what I sense, please help me here. They speak of death at the college but how is a man, fresh off the transport, sup- posed to ever be ready for seeing something like this?" LT Pendleton gasped, as if the stale air enveloping them was choking him. Just how could he be ready? No, thought Sgt Ross, no books or words could ever school anyone in the effects of war's death and destruction. Never. This time it was the young LT who let the pause linger. Sgt Ross didn't break the silence. He respected the young officer's at- tempts at coming to terms with what he was experiencing. "Sgt, we're standing here talking about a person. Yes, I'm having my difficulties dealing with the situation, but he is after all still a human, not so?" He glanced at Sgt Ross for reassurance. Yes, the nod was slow but strong, the greying soldier affirming his agreement. "Why has he chosen this spot to live? Is there any likely reason or did it just happen?" " Live? We're not really sure... he was housed in the sickbay after returning from the front." Sgt Ross turned and pointed at the neat white buildings at the edge of the woodland. He swung his arm from the direction of the buildings to the woodland, "The lad soon began climbing through windows at night, to wander around in this thicket. Searching for his soul or maybe as if searching for his brother? Who knows?" He paused again, just long enough to catch his breath. "See that shirt. The stains? He wouldn't allow medics to take the shirt. He would scream and perform so much that he'd upset the others around, so he still wears it. The stains, as you may have guessed, are his brother's blood stains." Sgt Ross fell silent; he'd no more to add to the sad story. "Sgt, what's the man's name?" "Tom, Infantryman Thomas James Barker. His brother was Infan- tryman Jeremy William Barker. Yes, they were as inseparable as the cartoon characters, until Jerry stepped on the landmine." "Tom?" The LT's lingering pause turned to a semi plea… "Tom?" "Don't bother Sir, just don't. Tom's spirit was blown totally out of his core during that ambush. Only the physical form returned. Tom… he's long gone. Gone with his twin brother who was blown into a million bits. I saw it happen… the lad walked out of the ambush… covered with the remains of his brother. Tom walked out, blood-stained, as if in a mist of red death…" "What shall we do for him?" "Nothing Sir… we do nothing… for now." Sgt Ross stood… ramrod, rigid, straight. He stood, wonder- ing when he'd ever walk out from beneath the cloud of his own brother's death. A death too long ago to remember, yet raw in his mind. His own brother, his baby brother, shot by a sniper as they entered the safety of their forward command post. "Nothing Sir. For Tom, you do nothing. No, all you need do is send two letters home… let the parents mourn once. One shock for them is more than enough…" LT Templeton whispered as he turned to walk away, "Nothing Tom, for you we'll do nothing." About the Author: AJ Vosse joined the South African Air Force as a fresh- faced lad straight out of school. He completed his apprenticeship in 1980, qualifying on Impala jet trainers (Aermacci MB326 aircraft). He always wanted to fly so he applied for and was selected to do Flight Engineer's training on Alouette III helicopters. Based at a maritime squadron and accumulating more than 1,400hrs on type, serving in many different roles, including sea and mountain rescue, maritime operations, pilot and flight engineers training and operational hot and heavy flying in conflict environments. AJ left the SAAF in 1993 and relocated to Ireland in early 2001 along with his fam- ily. AJ has self published his first collection of short stories 'The Lucky Thirteen' in 2017, and is hoping to release the second collection at the end of the year. The author AJ Vosse in the South African Air Force

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