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Sunday, March 15, 2009

We and Revolutionaries

Us innocent children in the revolutionaries,
Fighting for causes that will never be known,
Fighting for causes that are hidden from us,
Fighting for causes that cannot be stopped.

Yet,

Us innocent children in the revolutionaries,
Fighting for causes that are beneficial to the world,
Fighting for causes that are helpful to the country,
Fighting for causes that are troublesome.

Yet,

Is it worth it?
Is it enough?
Is it going to change?
In a variety of different range?
Without it being strange?
Lets wait.

Day 7


Going to a war is just an absurd idea seeing as how unprepared and untrained I actually was. Although we have done drills, a real gunfight was always going to be different from a drill. My face started to sweat and I was absolutely nervous with worries and fear. I looked down at my feet and a train of thought went through my mind. With this amount of preparation and training, I would only pray that God would be on my side during the fight. I would only pray that luck got me for the first time and decided to be on my side. I wondered how much my arms and hands would shake if I were in the stands in preparation to shoot at a man. Loyalist or not, I doubted that I could ever do it. Without the fear and nervousness of a real war, a drill could never be enough to show how much I would be going through. My heart sunk deeply down into the well as I prayed to God I would make i through unscathed. Or perhaps, undead. I prayed again and again, out loud and silently. The sweat that had been drifting down my face seemed to have stopped for a bit. As nervous as I still was, I was praying. I believed that God would be on my side through this. I sighed heavily and marched toward the soldiers with unmatched uniforms and low ammunition rifles.
Image: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg01hQkEejWRZrNci83XBqCO8lkLkrpVATrpZyrRPNf5719emiewB8rhzTU2V1ernFAo6OIm4eLffKiKD1zyxnusOFJmHKNpH9e-TX1-mkL6YhLZ4gUcobSre3TJtU97EgrIOv2PRVl5w/s1600-h/child-soldier-afghanistan.jpg

Day Six


Looking at the big picture of Revolutions, I finally realised how experienced soldiers and men thought although I did not quite agree. Revolutions and Wars end in an access, according to them, is when people use dirty tactics such as stealing and killing. This is apparently why Ignacio, Manolo, and I were taken to the army by force to become soldiers. The army needed more people, and if that required stealing, they would do it. They would do anything to win, even if it meant doing things that were absolutely unacceptable. The same idea could be interpreted by Captain Mendoza's plane. In need of an airplane, Captain Mendoza decided to steal the money from a bank that had corrupted. As wrong as it was, to win the Revolution, he did it anyhow. Every Revolution had steps. Prepare, gather people, train, and fight. Being taken in as a soldier was part of the process in which all the experienced men in the army understood. This just comes to show the commonality of the previous 43 Revolutions that had been fought in the history. It was probably like a vicious cycle to the people, yet there was no way around it until someday. In a way, I was pleased with myself for knowing about finding out the big picture, but somehow, I was unhappy, too.
Image: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUPjJfQkmd3L-9udImDdIUzaxd3lUg3FmpL0rdqSxYPZLwVLiPOkFJSqvdsuYipN42IbYM5MOq2DUsn34ZeeFPY4onvK8McsjWEVDDl6HG4sxVq-ZpwyFbSzw1Ctlkl2ghX5hyphenhyphen4_LJ53U/s1600-h/AS90-British-Army-Artillery.jpg

Day 5


Emptiness and coldness filled my stomach. Innocent lives were taken away and we Revolutionaries just stood by and watched. Arriving late is no excuse, and the least we can do is bury the villagers properly. I stroked around thinking intensely. It was then that I realised the difference between Loyalists and Revolutionaries. As Revolutionaries, we were here to protect and change the people at the same time. Loyalists were here to keep and gain control of people. But that is obviously not happening because us people could not live under the circumstances we did now. Stroking in the empty village emptily reminded me of my own village. Seeing these wounded men and women lifelessly reminded of my own village. My heart sank as I thought of Conception and Mother in the home village waiting desperately for my return. But maybe, just maybe, they will never get hurt and captured the way this village had been. This is when I realised how lively our village had been. This is when I realised how big of an impact us soldiers, each and of us, made. Back when I just came in, I had absolutely no aim as to for who and why we were fighting. Now, realising the truth and the picture, I knew exactly what we were fighting for. I was, as a soldier, part of this country as a whole, fighting for a better cause. The girl, whom was surprisingly the same age as me, was wounded with a newborn baby in her arms. All of this made me think of the reason I had not think of escaping for awhile now. At the beginning, all I ever thought about was escaping and leaving. Now, I was here, thinking about fighting for the cause and the future of our country. This event had made me realised numerous things.
Image: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWfR8Ezyr7rFVDp10aeJOjVH61ar8XYm7su11_uYvcG2rNSA8fiK4O5_jj1iGCpvDfdPEpUP_Ndgo6Y6FLK5SrlCiT8oGrmReb-gI8-wbbak0o2-GJEPZDY0mX0r1ggyhOHdh7fFc9dqA/s1600-h/391080237BFvHFF_ph.jpg

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Day Two

I woke up in the morning thinking about Revolutionaries and Loyalists. I remembered instantly how Ignacio, Manolo, and I were brought into the revolutionary camps yesterday out of force and unwillingness. Ignacio, the oldest of us, explained there had been a devastating number of 42 revolutions in the history. Yet, there had been no changes and we lived as peasants with a limited amount of everything. With Ignacio guiding me, I realised he was right. As much as wars had been fought and started, nothing had changed. Whether it is the Loyalists or the Revolutionaries we, kids, are following, we still fight and die. Leaders and experienced soldiers had been telling me success requires sacrifices from the children. I strongly disagreed. I understood that no matter what we did, nothing would ever change. Understanding this in depth, I realised that no one cared for anyone of us. We were just child soldiers who come and go just to fight. We are nothing to them. To us, however, we child soldiers realise that this had got to stop. Yet, we have no choice. Yet, we cannot resist. At this point, I believed that no one in the whole entire army will ever understand or care about us, General Mendoza appeared. He was a good leader, I believed, because his thinking was slightly closer to mine than others. I believe there was an escape to all this chaotic mess. As to that, I just needed to wait.
Image: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGd_AyUoBsEV3JEPGEajb8_araUcVVIVZ762TKrCvXgYX35opCbcCPS6R9_d_5Oh4fMQRIu5tSYoDN9TuV9ah-CcXCgbejIZLL512ek5Fb-Z5zNYRJD7oyrWmK5qNQgO-_tULvpv7a7y0/s1600-h/Day+Two.jpg

Day One


I stepped down onto the wet mud hastily. Every part of my body ached from nervousness and pain. Thinking of Conception and Mother at home, drowned by tears, made my heart twitch. I shook my head quickly and sighed. There was no time to think about my family. Without hesitation, I quickly followed the soldier in front of me towards the main tent. Searching helplessly, I tried to find a pair of eyes with a bit of sympathy, a bit of care. Every pair of eyes that stared back, however, were dark and blank. Boys in over sized army uniforms worked, experienced men worked, and the captains worked. I felt a hard thump from my chest out horrification and what is to come in the future. Unwillingly, images of myself in oversized army uniforms became to arise, leading to images of myself...dead. Every part of my body felt the frightening shiver I was unable to stop. How could they do this to us children? Us innocent, knowledge less children. We know nothing. We did nothing. Yet, we are brought here as child soldiers to fight for something we know will never be reachable. This goal so far is what they set for us to look upon at, but we all know it will not happen. Just as I was deep in thought, I felt a gentle nudge on my shoulder. Ignacio reminded me to keep my walking pace because I was slowing down. Soon after our arrival, I felt uncertainty. I was able to get food, but Juan and Whistler, and the rest of the leaders rushed us toward the training camps. Juan and Whistler completely horrify me with every possible action they consider to take or do. With the cold stare into my eyes, they manage to make me shiver. I was unsure whether or not I was going to survive the next day. All I can do is hope for the chance.
Image: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNB02Ke7SfhQTOT1w1mI_drCFsaFEv2g_69PxU2NKVCg2LZ1qU6Z575MhpM0WFSyFuGQGVHqaYeyE8WFVg7AifJY6EKzmPyBU4C5jYvuzBNGOnaLbwzMgeGDxCMAXVnvNMFtOWm0AtqoY/s1600-h/0_22_101305_child_soldier3.jpg