Day 8
Daniels, Ezekiel; SPC US Army; 078-05-1120
Daniels, Ezekiel; SPC US Army; 078-05-1120
I have been here over a week and they now decided to give me a small lamp, a journal, and a pencil. They told me “Keep yourself busy.” I figure they want to make sure I don’t try to kill myself by going insane. Don’t know why. They are just going to do it for me.
Regardless, I am going to write to leave this as a record to anyone who finds it, because I doubt I will make it out alive. My patrol got hit hard by an IED going through some podunk part of Helamand province, along one of the smaller MSRs. Captain Trujillo called it out on the radio, but I don’t remember what he said. Miggs and Santo were in lead vehicle with me and him, but they are probably dead by now. It was a big blast, hit us hard on the driver’s side. Must have been one of those new ones with armor piercing rounds, because the armor on the 1114 peeled away like it was nothing. I still can’t wrap my head around it. One minute, Miggs is singing along to “Hotel California”, the next we are in the middle of Satan’s playground. They must have had a daisy chain, because next thing I knew the radio lit up and everyone in convoy was screaming and shouting directions. But, by that time, I could hear the small arms fire. I couldn’t see anyone because the blast knocked my head against the roof when the vehicle rolled over. Everything was blurry. Next thing I know, I am being drug out of the door, and I hear Captain yell out our grid, but then shots fired and I see nothing but an AK-47 butt stock.
I still don’t know why they kept me alive.
The first couple days were bad. They beat me pretty hard. Had me zip tied to a chair in some dark little cave. At first they just beat me with fists but then started on me with socks full of batteries. Not much, but enough to cause me to black out a couple times. Felt like a big fireball of pain all over. They gave me just enough time to recover, then went back to pulping me. They kept asking about the location of “the unit”. I told them I didn’t know. Haha, actually all I did was give them name, rank, and serial. I wouldn’t breach my code. Not for these animals.
They left me bloody in that cave for a while. I don’t know how long, probably a day or two. All I can remember is the pain. Next thing I know, a doctor is cleaning me up. Stitches to my face. Stitches along my back. Some cold packs on my sides and forehead. I saw them using thermometers and some other equipment... didn’t think they had those here out in the desert. Maybe they aren’t complete barbarians.
I am now in a small cell, fashioned out of an alcove in a cave. There is a small hole in the ceiling. I can tell when it’s daylight and when its dark. The guards come around every so often. They give me food and water. I remember Johnstone, one of our intel guys attached to our convoy, telling me how these terrorists don’t abide by the Geneva Conventions, but so far I would say the treatment is about what I would expect. Just enough to keep me alive. They told me the date when they threw me in here, as a kindness I guess. Only reason I know how long I have been here.
For now, my only task is to stay alive from day to day, hope for someone to come looking. Took me a hell of a lot of energy to write this. Getting dark now. Any second they will come to take the lamp and the pencil. They will let me keep the journal. All I can think of is Marie and Abigail.
