Dogs of War

They dragged him kicking and screaming from the room. The rusty metal door separating us from the other room was left wide open so we could witness him slowly having his head cut away from his body.

The bastards videoed the whole grisly thing and when it was finally over, they just laughed. There are many atrocities perpetrated in the name of war, religion and freedom but to cut a man’s head from his shoulders while he’s still alive must rank among the worst. And then to laugh about it...

Corporal Flynn’s death will go down on record as that of a hero in the service of his country but I saw it. He died screaming and sobbing for mercy, but I’m not fooling myself - I’ll probably do the same.

Now there was only the major and me bound and beaten in our dusty cellar of a prison. There were no windows, and only a naked light bulb divided day from night. I stared over at Major Varkolak - an officer with the Bulgarian Special Forces - and my bloodied and swollen lips cracked into a macabre smile as I pictured the eliteness of the Bulgarian Special Forces. I doubted he and his outfit had seen much action since the fall of the Iron Curtain. His country hadn't sent massive troop numbers to Iraq - just a few medical staff and the major with his ‘specialist weapons knowledge’.

Through the blurred vision of my swollen left eye I thought I saw a shadow of fear cross his face. Was he thinking the same thing as me; how the hell did we get in this mess and how will we ever make it out alive? Our captors call themselves freedom fighters, but our superiors called them insurgents. To me they were just cold blooded killers. Even if their demands were met the likelihood of us leaving here alive was very remote.

Our deaths were going to be slow, painful, and caught on video for the world to see. They were just waiting for the right time to bring us out for our final horrific performance.

‘How you doing, Major?’ I called over. He stared at the cell door nervously.

Was he worried they might find out we were on route to a weapons conference with our top brass? What the hell could the major bring to the table that hadn’t already been tried?

‘Sgt, do you have any idea what the date might be?’

‘The date?' I asked. 'Why?’

‘It’s very important that I know. I have to work out the date but more importantly the time.’

‘Jesus Christ, major. They’ve just severed a man’s head from his body while he was still alive and you’re concerned with is what time it is?’

‘Please, Sgt, our lives may depend upon this information.’

‘Okay, let me think. It was the 14th of August when we were escorting you to the weapons conference - that’s when we were ambushed. We’ve been in here for at least two days, so I figure today is probably the 16th. But with no watch and no windows to gauge the time by I’m just guessing.'

‘Sgt, your guess may be the most important one of your life.’

There were raised voices from the other side of the door as it violently swung open. Hooded gunmen swarmed in kicking and punching at me. I curled up in a ball to protect myself but they hammered into my kidneys with the butts of their machine guns.

‘The time is pretty irrelevant now, major,’ I shouted, as I was dragged out to my fate. One of the captors grabbed at my torn shirt collar and pulled me up. I saw the wristwatch he was wearing. It was Corporal Flynn’s gold Rolex and given the accuracy of Swiss engineering I saw the hands of the watch pointing to 11:56 p.m. and the date in the little magnifying window of the indicating 16th.

‘Hey major,’ I yelled, ‘if it’s of any use, it’s nearly midnight on the 16th.’

With the discovery of this information, the major screamed to the insurgents to let me go. Incredibly they dropped me to the floor.

‘Get me your superior now,’ yelled the major, adding, ‘I have important information regarding a secret weapon about to be used against you.’

One of the men stepped back into the room and stared at the major.

‘What trick is this?’ he asked.

‘No trick,’ said the major, ‘take me out there, get me some water, I will tell you everything.’

‘Tell me everything from there.’

‘No,’ demanded the major, ‘Out there and with some water. It would be better if the American didn’t hear what I have to tell you.’

‘Let me tell you something, Major Varkolak. We have been negotiating with both of your governments to ensure an amicable ending to this situation. The two American soldiers are - like most of there comrades - expendable, so of course their government will give the impression they died like heroes. But we both know that the death of a common foot soldier is just another statistic - and how Americans love statistics!’ He walked over to Major Varkolak and stood menacingly above him.

'But you, major, you are something different. Your government doesn’t seem to want you returned. In fact, they appear to be denying all knowledge of your existence. Now why would that be?’

‘Of course they wouldn’t admit to my existence. My mission is top secret,’ answered the major, looking long and hard into his captor’s dark eyes.

‘Perhaps when I bring you the head of this American you will consider telling me all about your secret mission,’ he said, indicating to his men to remove me from the room. I tried to resist but with the ropes binding my arms tearing into my flesh they dragged me out.

Within a few minutes I'd be subjected to pain and horror beyond my comprehension. I tried damn hard to face my final seconds with honour and dignity but I felt my bladder starting to empty - I knew my death would be not be the stuff of legend. It would be crude, disgusting and these beasts who stood as men would enjoy every second of it. I prayed to Jesus for it to be swift, but the total silence emanating from heaven reminded me of the sad limitations of religion and humanity in this God-forsaken land.

So I decided I wouldn’t go without a fight. I lashed out with my shoulders, elbows and teeth hoping to inflict at least some damage. But a heavy boot caught the side of my head and sent me flying against a brick wall.

What happened next seemed to take place in a world beyond the waking one as everything became muffled, as if my head had been plunged into deep water. I could hear the major calling from the other room. I saw the leader of our captors wander back in to him, and then, like some confusing dream, I saw waves of blood rushing from the room like some terrible red tide.

Confusion reigned as I desperately tried to raise myself up, only to be pushed back to the floor. The insurgents froze for a moment and I swore I could hear a low growling - some deep, resonant sound that spanned the dark place between human and beast. Their automatic weapons opened up like a thousand flashes of lightning as my mind slipped into unconscious.

When I awoke an awful stench hit by nostrils. As my eyes focussed, I saw something red and fleshy in front of my face. I wrenched myself up to discover that my arms and feet were free. I examined the fleshy mess on the floor to discover I was staring at what was left of a man’s entrails. I scuttled back against the solid foundation of the wall and looked around the room. I saw various limbs scattered around and a torn torso in the middle of the room. Everything else was bloodied pulp.

The entire floor was covered in a sticky red fluid and the smell of death was everywhere. To the left of me was a hand and forearm. Attached to was Corporal Flynn’s gold rolex watch. Reaching over, I unclasped it and stuffed it into the pocket of my torn fatigues. I staggered to my feet and managed to get to a wooden door which hung from its hinges.

The devastation in the room must have been made by a grenade or some other explosive device, to cause this much damage to human flesh, but why wasn’t I dead? Why weren’t my body parts scattered around the room? I pushed my way through the broken door and down a dirty corridor towards a single shaft of light.

Once outside I filled my lungs with fresh air, but then vomited what little was left in my stomach. I wandered for hours in a daze with no idea of which direction I was heading. The back streets soon led to a commercial district where stall holders were setting up for the day. I collapsed at the feet of an Iraqi shopkeeper. The next thing I knew he'd flagged down a British patrol and I was thrown in the back of an armoured Landrover which sped me back to my unit. I was patched up, but when a couple of officers came to my bedside to debrief me they took my ramblings as delirium.

As I lay in that hospital bed I kept having crazy nagging thoughts in the back of my brain. What if the major had somehow managed to conceal a secret weapon on him? Maybe he'd used it to destroy all those insurgents? But how come I was still alive? Was the weapon so smart it could tell friend from foe? And what had happened to the major? Had he also died after setting off the weapon?

I stared at the bedside cabinet next to me and saw Flynn’s watch. I saw through the cracked glass that the hands were still. The frozen hands had stopped at 3 minutes after midnight - the little dial showing the phases of the moon was on stuck on full.

I lay back on the bed and laughed. I continued laughing hysterically until they finally came to sedate me.