His stubby fingers had constant grip on his M16. I have a feeling this guy isn't a nice person. I realized that as soon as we leapt out of our oversized transport helicopter. Our mission was a 'snatch and grab' although

“That’s the last one!” I shouted

Needles nodded and gave me a smile. He shot the giant rusted lock off the door and I flung it open. The stench of sweat and rotting flesh filled the room, knocking me back several steps. Needles ran straight in, the smell not even bothering him. I soon followed.

   Twenty or thirty, woman, men and children filled the room. Several dead corpses lined the floor with machete’s lying besides them. It was obvious they had been surviving on starvation rations for some time. Their heads disproportionate to their bodies. Their bones could easily be broken; they probably couldn’t even stand. Looks of fear and suspicion were among their faces except for one man.

   “Don’t worry, we’re not here to hurt you” Needles said reassuringly.

Slowly one man with a menacing look, stumbled to his swollen and blistered feet. A jagged scar across a dead eye astounded me the most, though he did seem to be in better shape than the other slaves. He slowly limped towards Needles.

In a deep and powerful voice he murmured, “What have you done?”

Needles, with a puzzled look replied and dislodged the cigar from his jaw.

“We’ve come to free you!”

The slave failed to respond.

“From your slavery, you’re slaves you know.”

Needles was getting anxious, his stubby fingers latched around the trigger as rage boiled within him.

“Why? Are you not a slave?” the slave bravely asked.

Needles could not ignore the remark, he raised his weapon. I quickly swatted his weapon to the ground.

“No! This isn’t what we’re here for.” I stated.

Needles calmed down to what seemed like his normal self.

“Not everyone lives like this. You can do whatever you want. You’re free!” Needles explained.

“You know...free thought, free speech, civil rights!?”                                                                                                          

Pg.2

The slave became outraged and his arms rose.

“ Freedom!? Free to be lazy, and be brain-washed by media trash? To abuse welfare at another’s expense!”

“It’s not like that!” Needles shouted.

“No more working all day, enough to eat, equality; no more beating, no more violence!”

The slave stared at Needles intensely.

“To grow fat and lazy, to gorge on food and throw it away while people like us suffer? Here we have enough to eat. Here is your equality you long for.”

Needles became angry. Hadn’t he and his squad been there to rescue them? And this one slave questions him!

“Equality under threats of beating, death and execution is not equality...it is slavery.” Needles remarked.

“Better to be ruled by cruel master, with whip and gun, than to die at the hands of my own country, which is selfish enough to kill just to have more and more possessions. Better to be ruled than to live under a corrupt politician.” The slave took a breath.

“Brain-washed to think more objects mean happiness, rather than life itself. Cursed to worry about; taxes, jobs and more. That’s the society you want. You call yourself free.” The slave spat at Needles in disgust.

   Needles could not take any more. His common sense had withered away like the slaves flesh had done.

   Needles pulled the trigger. I could not stop him. The automatic weapon sang. The slaves scarred body flung back to the wall. The bullets colliding with his head turned into a bloody pool of mush. Needles stood there. You could hear his heart pounding through his bullet proof vest. His eyes were wide open staring at the disfigured body. The smoke at the end of the barrel was strong enough to cover the smell of burning flesh.

“Do you realize what you have done?”  I stuttered.

“Yes” Needles replied.

His cigar was shaking inside his mouth as his blood rushed around his body.

“Just say he was caught in the crossfire, and get the rest loaded up.” Needles ordered.

   He put his weapon down; his stubby fingers still latched to the trigger, and took out a new cigar, lit it, and walked out of the building. I stayed in Sergeant Needles squad for two more years until in 1995 the UN decided to leave, having failed to achieve their mission. Today Somalia and the city of Mogadishu have declared unilateral independence and in 2000, Abdulkassim Sulat Hussen was elected President of Somalia. A memorial ceremony, held in Mogadishu took place to commemorate those who fought and died. Sergeant Needles was not there.

   Needles did not win the argument; he merely could not face the fact that he was wrong. In today’s world many innocent people get killed for this very reason. Nobody other than Needles squad and myself knew what happened on that day. I now know why that one slave decided to stand up for what his people believed in and how he tried to save his people from being rescued from ‘slavery’.