Every Second Counts

Combat. Everything about it is brutal. The most minor of errors can take lives. Every second, every moment is a chance to win or lose. Experience the slow thrill and terror it brings.

Every Second Counts 

Time has frozen. A lonely grenade rests, pin undone, on the dusty floor of a mudbrick shack. Five men are standing near, but see different things. Time slowly starts to continue, a syrup, moving at a pace where comprehension becomes expertise. 

“That grenade, it’s live!” The man in the very back thinks. He’s 19, talented, and a capable U.S. Army private. But this is his first combat. And his last. 

“4 seconds and I will be in Paradise.” Another 19-year-old boy, his mind twisted, bent into a nail to be used in the construction of the Islamic State. An AK-47 is slung around his neck. He sees the grenade as a gateway. 

“Move, shoot, kill.” It’s the same thoughts that the combat veteran has thought in the half dozen times he’s taken fire. The M-16 at his shoulder flares and then forces its way back. Bum, bum, bum. Three rounds exit the barrel, grooved lines on the side. Crack, crack, crack! They hit supersonic speeds. Ploomp, ploomp, snap. The deadly trio hit the terrorist in the chest, two between the ribs, the last directly into one. They all enter his heart. The combat leader sees the grenade, but does not notice it. 

The man behind him, hand on his shoulder, has been in combat once before. He has a daughter, but no wife as she died of cancer a year ago. He grew up as an only child but gained three brothers-in-arms when he joined the Army. The moment he saw the grenade roll out from the attacker’s hands he saw a threat. He then sought to eliminate it by dropping his gun and diving towards it.  

“Enemy” The third man thinks as he sees the dusty brown robes of the Jihad and the rifle in his hands. He pulls his trigger but only hears a faint ‘click’. He starts to cuss out loud. The First Second has passed. 

The “tango” with his rusty, uncared for rifle, is still holding onto life, 3 bullets having just exited his back. He has drawn his gun now and pulls the trigger on the Americans who did the same to his mother. At least that’s what he’s been telling himself for years, never accepting the fact that the killer was instead the same faction he now fights for. 4 rounds spew from the barrel, all going wild, none of them striking their targets. At least not directly.  

The private at the back of the line was told to not go to war by his mother. His name’s Montgomery, but most people just call him Monty. His mother always told him that he would be coming back home in a metal casket, a bullet his death tool. But he wanted to be like his brother, a model Marine. He chose a different branch, trying to fuel their brotherly rivalry, always making sure to insult his brothers’ at every chance he got. Lately he’d been hoping to be able to grow closer with his family, having missed his brother’s wedding a week ago.  

And now, he never will, as in that moment 3 pieces of the wall next to him burst off, the round that had smashed into them flying off in different directions. The first two pierced his neck, but that fateful last piece of shrapnel came off at the perfect angle to sink in between the boy’s eyes. His brother would receive the first call, having just arrived on base for another deployment. His mother would get the next, only to suffer a stroke the next day and to move on with her child. In just two seconds of combat, this young man has perished. 

The combat leader lets go of the trigger and taps it again. Two bullets clash with the flesh of the Muslim boy’s throat, and the third took on the man’s right eye. All of them defeat their opponent and turn the boy into yet another young martyr to perish for what they perceive to be a just and honorable cause. This time the combat leader notices the grenade, seeing it for just half a second before it disappears beneath a US Army uniform.  

The Savior lays atop the grenade, his life flashing in front of him. When he’d joined, he fantasized about a moment like this, biting the bullet to save his friends, his family. But by saving this family, he was abandoning the other. 

The team commander was both in shock and in denial. The man on the floor had been a friend all the way back to high school, and by chance, they had met again after enlisting. Serving side-by-side for over a year, they’d only just been able to pair together as commander and co-commander. But now it was over. Their names were Ryan Hartwick and Tanner Matterson. Matterson has just a second left. As the third second closes to an end, their thoughts were one: Why? 

The man with the jammed gun was the new medic, and although this was his first combat with a new squad, he’d been shot at on other deployments. He was about to find cover to unjam his gun when he noticed flecks of blood all over his outer arm. He already knew it wasn’t his. When he turned around the look in the E-3's eyes told the new ‘doc’ that there was nothing to be done. The boy in a man’s shoes was already dead.  

Time now speeds up, for it is when time is most wanted, even desperately needed, that it fades away like a cool summer breeze. The fourth second is almost sealed.  

Matterson’s last living look would haunt Hartwick forever. It was an expression of fear and reluctance. There was worry. Worry for his daughter. Worry for his brothers. Worry of the light at the end of the tunnel. But what would keep Hartwick up at night, haunt his nightmares, and stain his dreams was that it was also an expression of conclusion, of ending, of finishing. The Fourth Second is up. The last thing Matterson hears is a muffled thump. His name will be forgotten by most, but his sacrifice will always be present. 

Time continues as normal. Every second passes, but no longer as a measurement. Each is a box, a container for the experiences within it, some more full than others. Every second has a story, and in these stories, every second counts. Quietly. 

Author's Note

I would always appreciate the words of combat veterans, as rare as they may be on this site. I was told by a teacher/coach who served in the Marines and fought in Fallujah that this was the most accurate that he had ever seen someone get to the slowed, meticulous feeling of combat. Would like to see other's opinions.

Reviews

[Chryiss]

Interestingly enough, there are quite a few veterans on here, so maybe you'll be able to converse with people with similar/different experiences or thinking on the subject of war, combat, after effects etc.

This story is definitely in its meticulousness considering all these events and thoughts are happening in the span of seconds. But in terms of clear storytelling, it's a bit hard to follow for those (me lol) who aren't as familiar with combat terms, references, and positions.

The types of weapons for instance, I can get an idea due to how they're used, but for the most part, the connection is lacking to how a M-16, AK-47, etc. looks, feels, or performs. For example, possibly make us feel the physical and emotional weight of that gun in comparison to the other weapons of choice? But keep it short and sweet, action to action oriented is fine as this isn't a biggie.

On a more technical point, not related to background knowledge, following the locations of each person in relation to scene which supposedly ties them all together---the five men seeing different things---is unclear due to each paragraph either expanding on that person story and then jumping to the next person. Rather, by separating each story out with simply another line space (sounds silly I know) it would really help who's who in relation to who. Perhaps there's another way to figuring this out, especially if the five men aren't told in order.

Speaking of which, I couldn't distinguish five different men. I found more than five. Since they all use the 'he' pronoun, that already can cause confusion without clear referencing.

With the movement of time too, I wished the time points stood out more. Since this story focuses on details in a short time, capitalize and make the passing of each second clear and dramatic. The first second has passed, for example can be a paragraph all it's own. In that way, the passage of time, plus a sense of urgency, will be felt more strongly.

Another note on time, it didn't pass straight through.
"The First Second has passed."
"in just two seconds of combat"
"just half a second before"
"Matterson has just a second left. As the third second closes to an end"
"The Fourth Second is up."
The time made me very confused because the total of four seconds is being told for each person, so time essentially reverts back to a second or more to tell another's story. Maybe time isn't going back, but that's how it felt like.

Overall, you paint a good picture of several men in a short story. Perhaps due to the difficulty of expressing all their perspective in a cohesive scene, it was hard to follow/visualize events in relation to one another.
Reading very slowly, I can grasp it a bit better. But ultimately, I cannot distinguish which man when only the word 'man' or 'he' is used is referring to the actual name when given

That includes things like, "combat veteran" = "combat leader" = "combat commander" ?? Used in the same paragraph, or simple due to similar meaning words, I get confused. Again, if I re-read carefully, just focusing on who's who being referred to, I follow, but then that takes away the whole story. Perhaps, in one instance use the names Hartwick and Matterson when they first appear? And then connect Hartwick as the initial combat leader so you don't have to use his name all the time.

Thinking in a different perspective, the confusion I felt might almost be correct because of the confusion of the scene and battle! In every second, so much can happen. It's just the clarity of this message and the scene's events took several reads to finally grasp. Most people probably would stop after one being confused.

You have a great message and understanding of the second to second imperativeness of battle, but for unfamiliar readers like me, simple organization of actions and highlight of time points will better help express that very relevant message.

(Oddly enough, while writing this, I reread so many times that I got a clearer picture with each sentence typed, haha. The decreasing confusion/increasing clarity of the story is probably not noticeable in my words, but I actually wrote as such and tried to pinpoint exactly where the confusion laid, but then once it made sense I couldn't pinpoint in connection with other confusing or known parts.

Yikes, now I'm even confused in my methodology and train of thought. So sorry for you to read this confused person's words!
I shall end swiftly and hope that maybe just a bit made sense as now it is much to late into the night of 3:37am for me to think.

Despite all this length, your teacher was not wrong in his words. Very minimal restructuring will produce the clarity for unfamilars like me.