Story [Issue 19] A Retired Tankman's Life

[SpreadLoveNotHate 374]

A Retired Tankman's Life

 

I'm in a large crater, a loud 'boom' strikes a couple meters away from me. Dust and debris fly and hit the side of my tank as its shockwave gives my tank a slight budge. Another enemy tank fires and the large piece of ammunition comes straight at my tank. Seconds before my estimated impact, I prayed. Probably it's only under these circumstances that I would do so, but if it would save me, by all means. Amen. In a split second, I see it right above my tank. Oh my. "This marks the end", I say to myself. And it hits with a loud thud.

 

I scream and bounce up out of my sleeping position. I glance at the clock, 4 am in the morning. Just had another nightmare. How do I feel? Well, first, I noticed I was sweating from head to toe, and my pillow is soaked. I can't differentiate whether the wetness of my pillow was caused by my tears, my sweating condition, or both. Then I notice I scrunched up all our bed covers. Finally after a long twenty seconds, I suddenly realize I screamed in the middle of the night. I glance over my shoulder, to check upon my wife, as well as checking upon my kids in the next room. My wife gives me a blank glance when I returned, showing worry about my mental state. This wouldn't be the first time I woke her up because of a nightmare. The memories of my military career come back to haunt me. I mouthed words that are supposed to be comforting, but I know that she's been worried about me for quite a while now. My PTSD has been really getting on my nerves for the past years as I grow older. Ever since I left the battlefield about 20 years ago, fragments of my life back then kept coming back to me. I left the tank corps back when the great war ended, and went on with life in peace.

 

Anyway, I dozed off without realizing and the bright morning sun glare through my window wakes me up the next morning.

 

Once again, I glance over my shoulder, my bed is empty, other than me, a few pillows, and the covers. It takes me a few seconds to ponder about what is missing (complete blankout) until the hairdryer noise presents itself at the door to the bathroom situated adjacent to our bedroom. Ah. That's what's missing. No wonder I felt so cold in bed. All of a sudden, it came to me that she was already up, and I dared to take a peek at the alarm clock. Oh shoot, already 8:30 in the morning. I'm going to be late for work, hasn't happened in a while! (Ok, lying to myself, I've always been late, my boss has been nagging about it for the past months in which I've been practically daydreaming through my days, but I try.) In no time, I get up and get dressed into work clothes. Getting my briefcase, I snatch the Cranberry Orange muffin that sits on my counter and my car keys, and run out the door. Waving to my wife as I drive off my driveway with half a muffin stuffed in my mouth, I drive off.

 

I'm lucky school start time changed from 8:30 to 9:15 this year. Last year, I had to get a teacher with a spare prep to cover for me daily, as I was always half an hour late. My time management skills...yeah. Needs work. The school I work at is about a half hour drive away, though it usually takes quite a few minutes to get my 20 year old car engine warmed up to the point where it can drive.

 

I drive up to where I usually park in the back lot of the school. I open the trunk, grab my briefcase and run inside to the classroom where I teach. It's a decent paying job, though I have to work after hours too. Even better, this year, the history Head of Department of this 45 year old high school retired, and left his position to me. From my military experiences, I love teaching history. It brings me back to my glorious days of serving my country. One that has provided peace and protection for my family and I since when we were born. I was quite interested with history back when I was a kid too, and being able to pass it to other students now, mixed with my own personal experiences, is quite a pleasure. Being late all the time? Stressful to extremes. Always the death glares from my students as if they saw a zombie walking in. (Probably cause I do look like a zombie when I'm half asleep.)

 

After three classes of teaching the same historical events and figures, as well as a lunch break and a preparation break, my work day is done. With a great big smile, I walk out to spend the rest of my day working at my second job. At the tank museum in downtown! At first, it was the highlight of my day, being able to relive the moments when I honoured my country, and have people bask in my heroics. (If only that happens more than once a year on tankmen's day). The rest of my days, I just guide the few tourists around and answer anything that they have questions about. It's still somewhat interesting, the love of my life is still the battlefield in my mind, even though nightmares always occur.

 

After my three hour shift, I go home for dinner with my family. Something I treasure, since I've been away in the battlefield for years and missed a lot of my wife's golden years. It was hard on us, so when I got back, I promised I would spent all the spare time I had dedicated to making up for those years. The five of us, my wife, my 2 girls, aged 8 and 4, my boy, aged 2 and I eat together, and it has been so for the past few years. It's necessary family gathering time, and it's what makes our family so united and loving. Usually, we only have enough food to fill our stomachs, but we are thankful for it. Life is costly for us, and we can't afford anything fancier than our couple hundred square feet apartment. It really doesn't matter though, we live happily and that's all we want.

 

Once a week, after a bit of television time, I go to my psychiatrist's to take a look at my PTSD. My Post Traumatic Stress Disorder has been with me for so long. It was stressful battling in those harsh conditions, eating rations and getting through loud days and lonely nights. A lot of old pals I had back in the regiment are in the same situation I am. I open up my worries, my experiences and my dreams to my psychiatrist, and these conversations we have are supposed to reduce my stress level. To be honest, it hasn't changed a bit. My hour session ends quickly as time flies. I return home in my car, looking at the self note telling myself to turn headlights on. Oh how I wish I had a better memory too...

 

I almost doze off behind the wheel, but I make it safely home.

 

Looking back, I strive to have a normal life. My tank career changed me forever, though what it didn't change is my love for my family. Fighting for my beliefs, my country, and my honour, it's what matters to me. I wouldn't change a thing.

 

 

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) is classified as an anxiety disorder, caused by being exposed to wide ranges of traumatic events in their life.

Edited July 31, 2017 by Hexed

[Fjelstad1678 186]

I really liked this one. Can't really find the words to describe it, but they would be good.  ;)

[crackgold2 399]

I really liked this one. Can't really find the words to describe it, but they would be good.  ;)

me too

[r_GoldRock30 68]

This has a very nice plot, and is a satisfying read, ending on a high note. I like the way in which you've chipped in some humour; it's the sort of story which makes you smile after reading it (I can see what Fjelstad means by not being able to find words of description, but this is definitely indescribable in a good way).

 

However, a small criticism; you do seem to have a bit of an issue with your tenses, fluctuating between the past and present quite a bit (most notably at the start). Fortunately, this improves as the article progresses, and it doesn't hinder the reader too much. I recall this particular problem being more significant with previous stories of yours, so it looks like you're well on your way in terms solving this problem ^_^ The best solution would probably be to have your stories proofread by someone else, who might be able to pick up on such flaws that you might have otherwise missed.

[Amagi 1,728]

^Wat he said.

[barbiegirl19 48]

wow !

[canucks2 3]

Sweet.