But if you have been there while bullets where whizzing by, your shouts covered by the boom of shells, the crack of flak and the drone of engines, and if you have had your nose filled with the thick smell of burning diesel and gunpowder, and your skin soaked in oil and baked in dust and sand, and your eyes filled with flashes, sudden and white, and the taste of bile has filled your mouth and throat for days, if all of that and more is what you will remember looking back at those days, then that silence, that clear blue sky, the plain and neutral smell of clean air will fill your soul until you cannot hear the buzz of your own thoughts anymore; then that too will vanish , memories will fade, mix and merge, become vague and confused, the sounds that once were loud and sharp will become muffled and distant, until all is left is a feeling of accomplishment and the sound of your own heartbeats in your ears.
Fear will occasionally flare up again, in sudden bursts, a quick-paced montage of images of those days that will sneak up on you when you least expect it, at daybreak, in the deepest of the R.E.M. phases, just before waking up; but even those moments will become less and less frequent, until you will not remember that they ever happened.
It is all behind us now, and we can enjoy again the sun on our skins, the freshness of water down our throats and the sound of our own laughter without a feeling of guilt. It is back to routine, and more manageable challenges, little problems to deal with, and simple decisions to make.
We will not win this war alone, and the outcome of the last battle could still be negative, but I do not care right now. We fought it, and we fought it well, and we never turned our back to them, or to one another. We are tired, perhaps defeated, but happy and a stronger team right now.
Thanks to all of you, brothers (and sisters) in arms.
Ossian
