October 2nd, 2004, Baghdad A cool morning breeze drifted in and the light had turned from a dark blue to mauve and then to an intense red as the Sun slowly ascended in the east. It was 5.00 a.m. Armand Scott’s eyes opened reluctantly as the first rays of the winter sun filtered through the fleecy clouds and shone on the dust and smoke that comprised the air. He could not fathom what was going on. It took a while before he could put the pieces together. The Iraqi regime had hurled a volley of bombs the previous night, one of which had targeted the young soldier causing him to swoon immediately.
He stretched himself and staggered to stand up, but agony struck him- his arm. That night, a bullet had kissed his left arm and whizzed past. The bleeding had still not stopped. Grabbing his handkerchief, he tied a tourniquet to stop the bleeding. He was on a mission to bomb a military group formed by Muhammad Syedna. This group had been planning to drive the U.S. Army out of Iraq.
Armand had found some vigour and pep and moved with a purpose towards this gathering. Duty before self- that was his motto. He approached unobtrusively; cautiously, giving furtive glances lest he be noticed by the enemy. It was 9.00 am, Armand discovered himself at the meeting. The multitude had already reached Rusafa. People came thronging to hear that Muhammad Syedna’s inspirational homily. Everyone listened intently and behaved as if they were fanatics.
Just then, Armand watched a little child aged three, maybe four. He looked so innocent- as innocent as a lamb. His eyes were sparkling. They were clear, full of mischief. The child looked born free. He was not involved in politics, ethics or whatever. He was interested in nature- simple ways of life i.e. living and loving. This was an eye opener for Armand. He realized why God made him. God made him to know Him, to love Him, to serve Him and to be happy with Him forever in the next. Armand could not perform this heinous duty. Love for his brother, be it a Muslim, a Hindu, or any other religion was his first priority. Even Armand had had a baby, but who had died during birth itself. He knew the sting. How could he make this innocent child fatherless? It would be worse.
He was in the horns of a dilemma- blood or duty? He chose the right path.
Armand was not going back to U.S. Army Base after coming all the way. It would be a shame. There was only one way out- he decided to kill himself. Only that would free him from the horrible crime he was going to commit.
This is what he wrote before shooting himself: In Iraq, I wish to survive and to succeed. Yet as the days pass, the insurgency gets more effective; the faction in the society grows deeper and more violent; the American public becomes more impatient as the war is perceived as less legitimate and the conditions to form a stable Iraqi government become more elusive. So I run along this rope as if in a race to get away. I run knowing full well that my speed comes only at the sacrifice of my balance. I long for the tranquility of normalcy, the comfortable, the understandable. What then can I do besides serve admirably and hope for the best while fearing the worst? So I want to run away from my duty. I sacrifice myself for humanity.
