A big battle: I can’t even imagine being a part of it. It’s only been seven days since I
was forced into this army, and most of those days, I wasn’t even being trained; I
was marching through the jungle. I’m so inexperienced, that sometimes I wonder
if I hurt the Revolutionary Army by fighting for them, because I waste bullets,
and I take in food. But according to the officers, that can’t be helped now. They
need all the men they can get… or all the children they can get.
I’ve had my second experience in a battle today. And this time, like I said I
would before, I pulled the trigger. I probably missed the shady figures in
the boats, but I proved to myself today that I can kill people. I am one
step closer to becoming a real soldier, like Lolo or Juan. However, I still
feel bad for what I have just done.
I must admit that firing a gun is an exhilarating experience. Even when
you are just holding it, you feel powerful. This feeling increases when
you squeeze the trigger with your sweaty finger, and there is an
explosion of noise. You feel the gun’s kickback as he butt slams
down on your shoulder. Afterwards, I feel that it was scary how
I felt. It is strange how such a brutal instrument of killing can
create a sense of power. A lot of new and different feelings
have been surfacing since I’ve been fighting in the 43rd war.
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