Hope

The solider lay motionless slowly drifting into death excepting death, welcoming it. He shall forever lay still as his cold body withers into memory in the war torn landscape. The pouring rain beats across his chest like the bullets into his wounds. Then in pure defiance of the body his enemies flag is risen. The American flag. The American soldiers were jumpy in their celebration cheering but one line, one word, three letters. USA!USA!USA! It was a joyous occasion, or as happy you can get in a war. The enemy was driven away and few casualties had taken place. In this dirt hole that's as good as it gets. their extraction was in the morning and they had survived. They're going home to their families was all that they could think about. When morning came the soldiers were packed up and awaiting the helicopter. Then in the distance they could see the dirt green army grade troop transporter flying their way. All the could be heard was the cheers of there hoarse voices and then a loud pop. The soldiers jumped into the trenches because all of them knew what the pop was. They had heard it a thousand times before. It was an RPG followed by the loud explosion of there ticket out. All the kept them fighting was the hope that one day they would see their children and their wives smiling back home.