The Wrath
Atop a rugged mountain range.
We strung out in ambush.
And waited for the enemy.
A cobra recoiled, ready to strike.
A spider, waiting for the slightest vibration
to sink its fangs and inject the poison.
Came nightfall, the weather declined.
Rain poured in torrents wild.
Lightning, flashes blinding.
Thunder claps, deafening.
No sign of abatement.
Our tents our prisons.
Perched high on rocky ground.
Opened to dangers abound.
Cascading waterfalls,
Thunder and fire balls.
I cringed with worry – intuition.
A while later, a shout of exasperation
from the nearest ambush position.
Dismayed that my fear confirmed.
Struck by lightning!
Four soldiers took refuge under a tree.
Three injured slightly, one seriously.
Four claymore mines blown off instantly.
Next day a winching point we looked.
Atop the mountain spooked.
To evacuate the injured soldier
to Base and recover.
Knowing the futility of our ambush,
the danger in the lightning strikes zone,
we moved to lower ground less prone.
God must have been angry.
That man should kill man - fiery.
That man should choose to disobey.
The price he’ll surely pay.
Instantaneous or delay.
Think – pray!
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