CLICK HERE FOR BLOGGER TEMPLATES AND MYSPACE LAYOUTS

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Introduction and Poem (Soldiers)

THE FORTY-THIRD WAR

by Louise Moeri

Journal by Lilli Pukall
.
.
.
Soldiers
Soldiers come and go,
Like Seasons come and go,
Soldiers kill and save.

I am one of them,
One of the soldiers,
Who come and go,
Who kill and save.

Soldiers train and sleep,
Like Sloths,
Soldiers mourn and celebrate.

I am one of them,
One of the Soldiers,
Who train and sleep,
And who mourn and celebrate.

Day One

Through the whole time I was away from home my only thought was escape, but I knew that escape was impossible. Looking around the camp, I felt like I didn’t belong here. The experienced boys all had stern, hard looks on their faces; they looked like they hadn’t had any fun in a long time. The boys, Esteban, Juan, and the Whistler, they all seemed to be nasty and heartless; I would have to watch out for them. Then there were new recruits, like me, who were wearing troubled and wondering expressions on their faces, questioning what will happen next. I felt like a foreigner here, I was too afraid to ask anyone anything, and talking to my only friends here, Lolo and Ignacio, was impossible as well. For now I was alone. The Sergeants didn’t seem friendly, no, not at all. They looked like someone to fear and over all, respect if you wanted to live. There were mainly two thoughts shooting through my mind. The first one was, of course, how mother, Concepcion, and the babies would get along without me there to earn money for them. The second thought that was shooting through my mind was how life will be as a soldier in the fortress. How much food? How much sleep? Where will we sleep? Will I be able to talk to anyone? How will I survive? Is there any hope of escape at all? I didn’t know the answers to these questions for a long time. Not until the day, which seemed to be a month, was over. At the end I knew that I had to sleep outside, on a hill, on the floor, that there was not much time to rest, talk, and eat, and that there is absolutely no hope for escape, at least for now. For now I was a child soldier in the revolutionary army.

Day Two

War is war. It is cruel, bloody, and useless. People like Captain Mendoza, Esteban, Juan, and the Whistler think that war is needed to create peace, but that’s nonsense. This is the 43rd war, 42 wars have been fought here for the same reasons, but none resolved the problems. I don’t think there will be peace and freedom here if we don’t find some kind of compromise. The Loyalists will always be against the Revolutionaries, that’s for sure, but how is that fair for us, the farmers? War just makes the richest richer and the poorest poorer. It doesn’t help if those few rich people could bathe in money, if the majority, which are the farmers, are close to starvation! The problem is that the children are mostly affected by all this, even Captain Mendoza knows that, and Lolo and Ignacio have always known that. They agree with me that war is useless. Even if we win, the revolutionaries will still be the revolutionaries who fight against the loyalists; the only change would be that the revolutionary army would be in control, not the loyalist army. Then a few years later, the loyalists will want to gain control again, and so on, this was is never ending. Then we poor people would be forced to join the army again more people will die and there will still not be peace and freedom. Our AK-47’s are our toys, and killing is the game. I realized I’m not like most people; most people here seem to think what we are doing is right and they even seem to be enjoying themselves. But as Captain Mendoza said, “this country has a volcano for a mother, a jaguar for a father. The children suffer. We must... try.”

Day Five

I still have the images of the dead villagers in my head, I just can’t forget them. Why, oh why, did they have to murder all of them? The children, the babies, they couldn’t have done anything, they were no threat! Then Magdalena and Manolete completely changed my life. I remember the look Magdalena had on her face when I found her, so terrified and shocked. It almost seems like the loyalists killed the villagers to make us, the revolutionaries, hate them. Well, if they did, it definitely worked, I hate them now. Hate is another change in my life. I haven’t hated anyone before, now my heart is full of hatred towards the loyalists. I guess that’s part of being part of the revolutionary army. Cruelty is another part of the revolutionary army, but I haven’t gotten used to that yet. Lolo and Ignacio seem to have gotten used to it, or at least they don’t show their feelings as much as me. I just can’t shoot people, the fact that it is murder keeps on coming back to me and the blood... Lolo doesn’t have problems with that, in any case not when there are nice boots that make you get blisters to steal. All this has changed me; I am a different person now. Now I’m used to being silent, not making one sound. I’m Part of the Patrol now and I can’t go back to my old life, not with this war happening. I will train and the next time I go on a patrol, I will do better. I will be able to shoot Loyalists, and revenge the villagers.

Day Seven

I’m going to gun down more people. More people’s lives will be taken by me and there will be more blood. I don’t even know if I shot any of the loyalists on those boats or if the others shot them all, but I tried to shoot them. I tried and if I didn’t get hold of them it was because of the darkness, I couldn’t see. It seems cruel and mean, but I am proud to have shot a gun for real, now I’m part of them, part of the army for real. I haven’t even been in the army for a month but I’m already out to fight a real war. It feels like my head is going to explode. I have no adequate training, I’m afraid to shoot people and I can’t take peasants food without feeling guilty. Now I’m going to war, with my own rifle and loads of ammunition. This is real and there is no way out. I know I could be a superior soldier if I had more training, but there is no time for training, San Ildefonso has been taken over and we must win it back. I understand Captain Mendoza’s reasoning it really is necessary to attack now, before we have no chance anymore. I know that if we don’t win San Ildefonso back, the war will be lost and there would be many more years of suffering. Even though I’m nowhere near ready to be fighting a real war, I will give my best. I will give my best to feel good about myself, to maybe outdo Juan, and to show Mendoza that I’m not a babysitter.

Day Eight

I truly have become a soldier. My heart is the one of a soldier and so are my actions. I’m a soldier and being a soldier means that I will never be able to go back to my old life. I could never walk around without being aware of every sound and every movement around me. I am brave now and I understand why people fight wars. I have taken lives and saved them, and I don’t have any problems shooting loyalists anymore. I only do that helps the revolutionary army and I saved Juan, not because I liked him, but because he was one of the revolutionaries, one of us. I have developed a kind of brotherly feeling for all of the revolutionaries. I wouldn’t let any of them die, not even Juan, Esteban, or even the Whistler. War is something that is horrible, yes, but if it will make your country a better place, and if it will bring freedom, it is worth it to fight a war and waste people lives. This was the Forty-Third War, and we lost it, we lost the battle over San Ildefonso. There will be a Forty-Forth War and we will win it, if not win it, we will in any case give our best. I am mature enough now, to understand that there is a point in life and that everyone plays a part in it. Nacio for example, will be a doctor, no sorry, a doctor soldier, and I will be a teacher soldier. Nacio and I will help improve this country, our country, and we will serve it. That is what it is all about, serving.

Sources

The Forty-Third War by Louise Moeri
Images
Day One: http://www.hrea.org/crimesofwar/images/ChildSoldiers_Bleasdale.jpg
Day Two: http://img.timeinc.net/time/photoessays/2008/child_soldiers/child_soldier_02.jpg
Day Five: http://teapottantrums.typepad.com/photos/uncategorized/soldier_tries_to_eat_child.jpg
Day Seven: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYb6Ztj-ApGUKtMcvlq9dKtKJk36YZxG84GZzlNNuJmtoJLTkA0dEDg0oowcI1DeqJx4yUMuOmT-CZ4U-Lc57WPrOOJBowhmjVzt0Zw_dsU0I00rj9cM1qDO2U9Amc9kvelbjTikW8Iqc/s320/ChildSoldierThailand.jpg
Day Eight: http://farm1.static.flickr.com/49/134797131_bfe30f8232.jpg