Day 17 Wise Men
2 Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judaea in the days of Herod the king, behold, there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem, Matthew 2:1
Sacsimo collapsed into a dirty white plastic chair and gazed out across Baghdad with tired, gritty, eyes. Dun buildings glowed in the setting sun as the sky slowly drew its purple curtain across the day. The plaintive evening call to prayer added to his melancholy. Sacsimo, called Sacs by his friends, fumbled in his pockets for his evening cigar and a light. A couple of clicks on an old Zippo, a brief flare of light, and a steady red glow later, and Sacs leaned back exhaling a weary blue plume into the deep blue velvet sky. Sacs absently reached out and touched his M-4, drawing reassurance from its familiar proximity. Gazing out across the city, Sacs reviewed the day, weariness from long days in a combat zone penetrating deep into his bones.
This day had been particularly long, frustrating, and painful. A visit to a Neighborhood Advisory Council had not gone well. Volatile Iraqis had argued and quarreled forestalling any progress on the issues at hand. Acrimony and suspicion marked every interaction with Iraqis. Centuries of suspicion and hatred made progress painfully slow. Sacs’ superiors measured success in vanishingly small increments. Then on the way back to FOB they encountered an IED and SPC Franklin perished in the flaming wreckage. Sacs hated his shadowy and unseen enemy. They lurked in the shadows, periodically visiting death and destruction on Sacs unit and innocent Iraqis alike. This war, and its seemingly endless round of deployments, drug on and Sacs grew increasingly weary in soul and body. In the gloaming, an indistinct shape clambered up to join Sacs in his contemplation.
“What’re you doing,” the dark shape asked?
“Nothing, just thinking,” Sacs replied, “Who are you, a new guy?”
“Yep,” replied the vague shape, “Staff-Sergeant Archi, just got here. I’m new to the unit. Who are you?”
“Sergeant First Class Sacsimo. Most everyone calls me Sergeant Sacs.”
“What are you doing up here,” dark shape asked?
“Smoking, thinking, and unwinding.”
“Got an extra smoke?”
“Sure,” Sacs fumbled and passed over the zippo and another stogie.
Another click or two, a bright flash, followed by a steady red glow. “So what’re you thinking about?”
“Not much. Mostly about how much I hate it here…how much I hate the Iraqis. This is one God-Forsaken place,” Sacs mumbled, “I don’t know why we care about these people or what they do.”
“Well, they deserve a chance to make their country into something worthwhile.”
“Not in my book. They are just a bunch of ragheads, running around killing each other. We should just go home and let them kill each other off! I hate them. They are worthless!” The longer he spoke the more strident and agitated SFC Sacks became. “All they do is fight among each other and squabble over what’s left. We should kill them all, and then let God sort ‘em out!”
Sergeant Archi quietly mused as the stars slowly winked in agreement, “You seem rather sure of yourself.”
“Yes I am. You should ask Frankie and his friends what they think. They’re the ones that pay the price,” the red coal glowed fiercely, “This place totally sucks and I can’t get out of here fast enough. Like I said, this is one God-forsaken place!”
“How do you know God has forsaken this place,” wondered Archi?
“It’s so dark and they don’t place any value on human life. All they care about is power and their silly religion.”
“I don’t think God has forsaken any of His creation. He loves these people, just like He loves you and me.”
“How can you know that?”
“He sent His son, and…He shared that with men from someplace around here.”
“What?”
“Wise-men, Mages, came from the East. We don’t know exactly where or how, but He made sure that they knew, so He must care and had not forsaken this place. We don’t know much, but we do know that God answers all who seek Him.”
Sacs mused, turning over these thoughts in his mind. How could God care about these people who were so far from Him? How could he care about Sacs for that matter? He thought of the hatred that burned in his heart, the raged planted there, planted in the heat of battle. “I don’t know. All of that God stuff seems pretty useless to me,” he mused out loud.
Archi’s coal glowed brightly for a second, “Of course. We get so used to our hatred, our darkness, our warped view of things that anything else seems impossible. But I know that He has the answers, that wise men still seek Him, and that He is ready to be found. Look for Him like they did. They looked diligently from here…and so should you.”
“Humph. I’m not sure that God cares about this place, but I’ll think about what you said. G’night sergeant,” and with that Sacs heaved himself out of the chair and clambered down into the darkness to find his hooch.
The coal glowed brightly for a few minutes and then slowly faded out.
The next day, SFC Sacs ran into First Sergeant Winston. “Hey Top, where’s SSG Archi? I ran into him last night.”
“SSG who,” growled the 1SG, “We don’t have a SSG Archi.”
“Yes, we do. I met him last night. He said he was new to the unit.”
“Nope, no SSG Archi. You must be mistaken.”
Sacsimo watched the 1SG stalk off across the dust FOB and wondered, thinking about who Archi was and what he said.
