Be all that you can be

Axel Johnson looked at his pack of cigarettes. There were only two remaining. He smoked more these days than he ever had in the past. As a matter of fact, he never had a cigarette before they had sent him over there.

He looked at the bottle of Jack Daniels that sat on the table next to him. It was half full. It seemed to him that he had just opened the new bottle. He never drank much before they sent him over there, either.

Axel sat on his musty couch and began to flip through the TV channels. He made all the stops, CNN, NBC, FOX News. It was always the same shit, a bunch of people debating over whether we should or should not be over there. Theories were always presented about how one democracy in that part of the world would cause the other countries to topple like dominoes and create a giant democratic utopia. It was all bullshit as far as he was concerned.

Axel and three of his buddies had been on patrol when an explosive device ripped through the vehicle in which they had been riding. Jerry, Sam, and Pablo had all been killed instantly. Axel was severely disfigured. When help arrived, they had to actually remove the body parts of his fellow soldiers in order to extract him from the vehicle. Luckily for Axel, he could not remember most of the gory details.

He endured many surgeries. Some were successful, while others were not. The once handsome young man with movie star looks was now a scarred and depressed leper. He lived in a little one bedroom apartment, drinking and smoking his life away. As far as he was concerned, the explosion had already dashed his hopes for a productive future. How could he function in society when he could not even endure the agony of looking into a mirror?

It was a huge price to pay for actions which, in the end, he felt would have no positive result. Even if democracy was established, it would not be long term. It puzzled Axel as to why so many people could not see that not everyone wants to live the same way that we do. People have their own beliefs and their own customs. He often thought about how it would have sent the perfect message if we had just hunted down Bin Laden and made an example of him. It would have been a great big “Don’t fuck with us” to the rest of the world, instead of the wishy washy way that we ended up.

Axel had been called a hero and a patriot, and he honestly knew that he deserved the title. He fought for a cause and his country even though he felt that the policy was flawed. Axel knew that there was nothing more heroic than giving your life for your country even if it was for a ridiculous reason.

He spent most of his time replaying these thoughts through his head, but every once in a while Axel could just turn off the steady stream of misery. He had reached the point in the day where he didn’t want to think about the middle east for a few hours. He was through feeling sorry for himself for the moment. A trip to the liquor store was necessary because a half bottle of JD was not going to get him through the rest of the weekend and his Marlboros were in need of replenishing.

Axel put on a ball cap, and a pair of sunglasses. It hid some of the damage, at least to the point that he would feel comfortable enough to appear in public. He grabbed his prosthetic leg and strapped it on to the stub that used to be his muscular thigh. Over the years he had gotten pretty efficient at putting the artificial leg on with the use of only one hand.

Axel pushed himself up off of the couch using his remaining leg and one good hand for balance. He grabbed his cane, and after fumbling through getting dressed, limped to the door. Looking back at his crappy little smoke filled apartment, Axel muttered out loud… “Be all you can be, my ass!”