the last man

Are you feeling chilly, do you jump at the slightest movement of shadows? Here's a story from my NS days during basic military training.

Though the Chinese 7th Month, also known as the "Ghost Month", is over, I think it's still okay to post this.

I will try to get back to some serious writing after this. The work in the office is really getting crazy. :)


photo by Miyabi
image from morguefile.com



the last man
stop looking back.


The night over Tekong was unforgiving. Starless, tar black, bloated clouds threatening rain. Our patrol was trying to make its back to camp. In that tube of darkness that was the jungle trail, we could not see our palms if we had held them in front of our faces. No torchlights, no cigarettes, no zippos, our drill sergeant had warned. We had to trust the point man and his topographic skills. Walking in a single file, holding on to the webbing of the man in front, we inched forward like a wounded caterpillar.

Somehow we made it back, and as we straggled into the lights of the camp, my buddy came up to me, his voice highly agitated, and demanded to know why back there on the trail, i kept pulling his SBO and calling his name. Bemused, I told him I was at the front of the file, and did not do those things he said. I also reminded him that he had volunteered to be the last man in the patrol. And then his face turned a ghostly shade of white..

moonless night
white moth flies in
and rests on his bed.


23.08.08
********


© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 )