All In The Eyes

Something felt off.

The jokes were the same, his reception amongst the boys was the same, but the laughter fizzled quicker. His smile felt mechanical, a professional task to be completed. The long nights by the fire were no more; he avoided most of the guys and avoided any talk about what we were doing and had done. Despite how short-lived they were, we had a slight appreciation for the broader array of a conversation he now provided. Some men ask too many questions.

The newbies were the worst for it, too frustrated by the inaction. They still got sore heads. Their envy was backwards. We envied their clean uniform, and they longed for our scars. Little did they know.

Little did I know how functional and broken a man can be. The mechanical smile accompanied lost eyes. You wouldn’t see it often, or at all, really. I only witnessed it once, but it was enough. He must have lived somewhere else.

He said his goodnights, stressing the importance of sleep as we had yet another long day awaiting us. I wonder a lot about breaks. What if there was just one little break perfectly positioned amongst the carnage? Would that have saved him? A break in the clouds, a warm meal or a letter from home. That being said, he didn’t divulge much about his home life. Some of us couldn’t shut up about our wives back home, others it was too sore to mention. The home was a reward, and we were all winners, but we knew the contract could expire at any minute. The fluffy teddy bear might get stuck in the machine, so to speak. No guarantees.

Hope was useful. Some had Christianity, some had Islam, but we all had hope whether we would admit it or not. I don’t think our man with the mechanical smile could comprehend the notion of hope. I think…I know; hope was torn from him. That was the chasm between us now.

We were heading out. Helping out some other infantry who were under-armed and undermanned. It wasn’t the first and wouldn’t be the last time. Rain downpoured that night, but we were laughing. It helped to laugh. Our tight rope existence was inhumane, so our reaction seemed fitting. It was held until the first shots were fired of the day. Nihilism does not reduce fear.

I see our man with the mechanical smile preparing his bag. I wasn’t planning it, but I felt my heart spill out of my mouth. He meant a lot to me. He asks,

“What is it private?”

and turns around to face me.

His eyes. Aw man, his eyes. Everything else was fine, more than fine. Robust, equipped and solemn. But his eyes were defeated. Shiny and fragile. More likely to sink than pop. I couldn’t speak.

Maybe he couldn’t see people anymore or made a choice not to focus.

“Nothing.”

I stepped away from the tent. The wind kept waving open the front of the entrance. I caught a glimpse of our man with the mechanical smile staring at the ground. I could see his knees wanted to drop.

He hadn’t been home in over two years. Wherever home was. Sometimes in life, you just reach your limit. Out here? Your limit is bypassed on Day One.

Cheers