Find, Fix and Finish
Clare McGuire
Find, fix and finish target. 2300.
Find, fix and finish target. 2300.
Overwatch position.
Overwatch position.
South-eastern end of Helmand province. Find, fix and finish target.
South-eastern end of Helmand province. Find, fix and finish target.
The loud rumble of the army vehicle and the vibrations felt through the canvas covered seats is nothing unusual for Damien Thomlinson. Damien readjusts the long, slender object in his hands, and as he does he looks down at it. An object of pain, of terror, of power, and of loss. An object that is not unknown to this world of destruction and are plentiful in their numbers. The fear, the pain, this object can bring is enough to change one’s entire life. All that needs to be done to do so, is merely pull a trigger. Damien hopes he will not have to use it tonight. The mission is only to move into an overwatch position whilst another team goes in. No pain to be brought by his fingers pulling a trigger tonight.
The loud rumble of the army vehicle and the vibrations felt through the canvas covered seats is nothing unusual for Damien Thomlinson. Damien readjusts the long, slender object in his hands, and as he does he looks down at it. An object of pain, of terror, of power, and of loss. An object that is not unknown to this world of destruction and are plentiful in their numbers. The fear, the pain, this object can bring is enough to change one’s entire life. All that needs to be done to do so, is merely pull a trigger. Damien hopes he will not have to use it tonight. The mission is only to move into an overwatch position whilst another team goes in. No pain to be brought by his fingers pulling a trigger tonight.
The army vehicle continues on its uneven dirt path, the equipment in the vehicle swaying with the motion. Damien’s night vision goggles also swing from where they are suspended from around his neck, ready to be drawn and tightly fastened when it's time to move. As a kid, he would have loved nothing more than to wear fancy spy goggles and serve just as his grandfather did. Now, whilst this is what he loves, the goggles are not toys and even the smallest missions have great risks.
The army vehicle continues on its uneven dirt path, the equipment in the vehicle swaying with the motion. Damien’s night vision goggles also swing from where they are suspended from around his neck, ready to be drawn and tightly fastened when it's time to move. As a kid, he would have loved nothing more than to wear fancy spy goggles and serve just as his grandfather did. Now, whilst this is what he loves, the goggles are not toys and even the smallest missions have great risks.
Damien’s mind wonders yet again to the fact that here, where bombs go off, a foot in the wrong place could trigger an IED and turning the wrong corner could lead to a shower of bullets to rain down upon you, is home. Home to so many. Too many. Damien has seen the faces of the children who know no different, seen the fear in the eyes of the women who have nothing.
Damien’s mind wonders yet again to the fact that here, where bombs go off, a foot in the wrong place could trigger an IED and turning the wrong corner could lead to a shower of bullets to rain down upon you, is home. Home to so many. Too many. Damien has seen the faces of the children who know no different, seen the fear in the eyes of the women who have nothing.
Absolutely nothing. Their independence, their freedom, taken by those who had no right. No right to tear someone’s humanity from them. To treat them like objects, like nothing. Some are lucky enough to have husbands who care, but the others… Damien shakes his head as if the motion will free him from the thought. This is a place of pain, of terror, of power, of relentlessness. This is no home for this is a place of war.
Absolutely nothing. Their independence, their freedom, taken by those who had no right. No right to tear someone’s humanity from them. To treat them like objects, like nothing. Some are lucky enough to have husbands who care, but the others… Damien shakes his head as if the motion will free him from the thought. This is a place of pain, of terror, of power, of relentlessness. This is no home for this is a place of war.
There are no windows on the vehicle's sides, so Damien shuffles to the end of his seat and cranes his neck to see the vehicle in front as well as the land that unfolds through the driver’s windshield that is lit from the vehicle’s headlights. Beyond the ground that is lit by the light, is darkness. But Damien knows what lies beyond. Land that is bare. Land that is vast. Beyond, Damien knows it is light brown sandy dirt, gravel covered ground that stretches as far as he can see. He knows that it reaches for the sky in mountains and falls downwards in valleys. There are often dead looking grass plants that scatter themselves across the land. In the day, the sky above is blue -most of the time anyway. The colour of the sky is something that most people don’t think twice about but to Damien, it is something that is familiar in a foreign place. He sees its colour change with the disturbance of dirt due to explosions that often occur as well as the smoke they produce but it always returns to its much loved blue. Damien’s eyes return from the darkness to the ground that has been disturbed by the vehicle in front. Many vehicles cross over this land everyday and many feet shuffle over it’s rough, sandy surface, Damien thinks, but no matter what or who it is that makes their way across its rocky ground, no one is safe. No one.
There are no windows on the vehicle's sides, so Damien shuffles to the end of his seat and cranes his neck to see the vehicle in front as well as the land that unfolds through the driver’s windshield that is lit from the vehicle’s headlights. Beyond the ground that is lit by the light, is darkness. But Damien knows what lies beyond. Land that is bare. Land that is vast. Beyond, Damien knows it is light brown sandy dirt, gravel covered ground that stretches as far as he can see. He knows that it reaches for the sky in mountains and falls downwards in valleys. There are often dead looking grass plants that scatter themselves across the land. In the day, the sky above is blue -most of the time anyway. The colour of the sky is something that most people don’t think twice about but to Damien, it is something that is familiar in a foreign place. He sees its colour change with the disturbance of dirt due to explosions that often occur as well as the smoke they produce but it always returns to its much loved blue. Damien’s eyes return from the darkness to the ground that has been disturbed by the vehicle in front. Many vehicles cross over this land everyday and many feet shuffle over it’s rough, sandy surface, Damien thinks, but no matter what or who it is that makes their way across its rocky ground, no one is safe. No one.
There’s always a high threat of improvised explosive devices out here. Damien knows that. The incident response regimen didn’t get a chance to sweep the path in which the vehicles would take due to a delay. If they proceeded with the delay, there wouldn’t be enough time to get into position to ensure that the teams could find, fix and finish their target. Damien knows that no one really thought too much of it. There’s always a threat and they had a job to do.
There’s always a high threat of improvised explosive devices out here. Damien knows that. The incident response regimen didn’t get a chance to sweep the path in which the vehicles would take due to a delay. If they proceeded with the delay, there wouldn’t be enough time to get into position to ensure that the teams could find, fix and finish their target. Damien knows that no one really thought too much of it. There’s always a threat and they had a job to do.
Damien shuffles back to his original position, facing the opposite wall of the vehicle. His flak vest is bulky and he adjusts in his seat to get more comfortable. He lays back, head resting against the vibrating wall, it's quiet buzz comforting.
Damien shuffles back to his original position, facing the opposite wall of the vehicle. His flak vest is bulky and he adjusts in his seat to get more comfortable. He lays back, head resting against the vibrating wall, it's quiet buzz comforting.
BOOM.
BOOM.
Damien’s ears are ringing. As he lays on his back he struggles to breathe as blood floods his mouth like a river flooding a town, from a gash on his lip. His nose feels numb and soon he can see blood trickling from it approaching his eyes. He makes a strangled sound and suddenly there are large, firm hands pushing him over. The world tilts…. Damien can feel the cold hardness of the rough pressed metal beneath his warm, bloody cheek. The sideways world is slowly slipping away. He can see the panic stricken faces of men from the other vehicles who have rushed to help, can feel their shaking hands tear open his shirt and see their hands move to below his waist but he cannot feel the hands that reach for his legs, only see that they return to their owner covered with red, sticky blood. Damien’s blood. The blood pools around him and spreads outwards, making its way around the grooves of the pressed metal. The different streams of blood all make their way to the end of the pressed metal sheet. Damien half expects them to continue horizontally and for the droplets to rise upwards towards the sky. Damien doesn’t know why he thinks that. Everything is so surreal right now, so why not? But, of course, the blood reaches the edge and falls, staining the ground beneath it red. It’s still dark outside as the world continues to slip from Damien’s grasp. The now focused and determined faces of the men around him are swallowed by the now fast approaching darkness.
Damien’s ears are ringing. As he lays on his back he struggles to breathe as blood floods his mouth like a river flooding a town, from a gash on his lip. His nose feels numb and soon he can see blood trickling from it approaching his eyes. He makes a strangled sound and suddenly there are large, firm hands pushing him over. The world tilts…. Damien can feel the cold hardness of the rough pressed metal beneath his warm, bloody cheek. The sideways world is slowly slipping away. He can see the panic stricken faces of men from the other vehicles who have rushed to help, can feel their shaking hands tear open his shirt and see their hands move to below his waist but he cannot feel the hands that reach for his legs, only see that they return to their owner covered with red, sticky blood. Damien’s blood. The blood pools around him and spreads outwards, making its way around the grooves of the pressed metal. The different streams of blood all make their way to the end of the pressed metal sheet. Damien half expects them to continue horizontally and for the droplets to rise upwards towards the sky. Damien doesn’t know why he thinks that. Everything is so surreal right now, so why not? But, of course, the blood reaches the edge and falls, staining the ground beneath it red. It’s still dark outside as the world continues to slip from Damien’s grasp. The now focused and determined faces of the men around him are swallowed by the now fast approaching darkness.
“Reckon he’s gonna make it Bill?”
“Reckon he’s gonna make it Bill?”
“No Tom, I don’t think he’s gonna make it.”
“No Tom, I don’t think he’s gonna make it.”