When the wind blows just right sometimes I close my eyes and still envision a heat-scorched stretch of highway. There is a watchtower burning in the … - David Bellavia

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When the wind blows just right sometimes I close my eyes and still envision a heat-scorched stretch of highway. There is a watchtower burning in the distance. It is Highway South Five, the checkpoint we couldn't save from destruction back in Muqdadiyah almost three years ago. My platoon stands on both sides of the road. Bullets are heard in the distance, but there isn't any danger. Each soldier I pass stares at me for what seems like an eternity. Their faces are covered in sweat and soot. They just stare at me expressionless and move to the side as I pass. Fitss spits dip juice onto the road. Captain Sean Sims and Doug Walter look up at me from their map. Sergeant Major fixes his boot lace. And Lieutenant Ed Iwan nods at me. As the smoke from the burning checkpoint billows up from behind, the images from my past get smaller and smaller. Until, finally, all is open road.
I have permission to move on.