MINI-STORIES FOR THE YOUNG AND NOT SO YOUNG Peter V. Palmira, Pfc, woke up, as he had done for four months, to the shrill sound of reveille. He was assigned to a policing unit in the war-torn country of Librea, where besides the fighting there was rampant famine and disease. He breathed a short prayer to the Holy Presence he had experienced in a dream after he came to know the brutality and desolation around him. Ever since that time he had redoubled his efforts to help people on both sides of the conflict by giving them of his food (which was against orders) and by shooting low in engagement. Off duty, he befriended the small urchins to be found wherever he was stationed, giving them sweets and his daily rations of vitamins. In all these places the civilian people soon learned to trust him, speaking to him and teaching him their language, which he was quick to learn. None of this escaped the attention of his superior, Sgt. "Smiley" S. Badell who on several occasions summoned him and showered him with angry diatribe, threatening unspecified punitive measures. Peter was aware that Badell's animus against him was growing day by day, but he didn't let himself think about it. He was more and more concerned for the people of Librea, and preoccupied with helping them in any way he could. Meanwhile the fighting intensified. The rebels were gaining ground. Of the two factions they were the more radical and desperate. The policing units got orders to move into the territory that formed a wedge between the warring armies. Peter was dispatched into the very apex of the wedge, an area that was densely populated. He entered a village threatened by the rebel forces and took a defensive position against their assault. He found that he was standing in front of a fair-sized hut inside which cowered a family with many children. It took some time for the rebels to arrive. When they came, young and agile as monkeys, they immediately engaged the policing force in order to penetrate to the opposing side. Peter as usual aimed low. He was a good marksman and he shot from behind a large barrel in front of the hut. But he knew he was outnumbered, the enemy was approaching, and he began to pray. His last action was to throw himself across the entrance to the hut and fire down on his assailants. Then it happened. A stray bullet hit him just below his bullet-proof vest. "Lord Jesus!" Peter shouted in a great voice and lost consciousness. He woke up in a field hospital, feeling a raging pain in his lower left side. It turned out that the rebels had pressed on, leaving him for dead, and the policing helicopters arrived. The people in the hut summoned one of the police medics to tend to Peter. The surgery went well and he was saved. After he got medicated for pain, a great peace overcame him. His confreres had managed to push back the rebels. He had done his duty saving life, and killed no one. Peter gave thanks to his God. It was so good to be alive! |