Picture a girl. She's in her teens. Every day brings a fresh horror of chemical storms. Five days each week she travels to her battleground. The law enforces this.
Every way the girl turns she sees missiles cruising, not aimed at her specifically but often they hit home.
Propaganda is just as dangerous. Ideas repeated over and over would trap her in a tiny cage. All it takes is for her to stop fighting, to stop eating and shorten her skirt, smile and keep her mouth shut.
But this girl is a soldier, trained by me since the day she was born to fight. Every day she wakes to the sound of those missiles and I make her breakfast while we talk tactics. In the evenings we tackle the propaganda while disseminating the day's battle.
There will be no peace. Not in my lifetime. Perhaps, if she fights well, she will find some for herself.
My daughter is a soldier. She is my pride and joy.
3 comments:
Very powerful imagery Vicky. You immediately took me to a very uncomfortable place.
My neighbours son has just been home for a two week break from a 6 month tour of Afghanistan. He returned on Sunday. She cries all the time.
My daughter Katie is twenty-one and has has just spent 3 days in New York. I didn't sleep until I knew she was safely home. How little we know of the difficulties others face.
Emotive, powerful and beautiful post, Vicky.
I echo what's been said before. Powerful imagery. I hope Raven is equally proud of her commanding officer :-)
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