Captain Sarah Wilson stared out the dusty window of the military transport vehicle as it rumbled down the pothole-filled road. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, casting an orange glow over the rugged Afghan landscape.
Today was her 32nd birthday. But there would be no cake, no presents, no friends and family to celebrate with. She was thousands of miles from home, in the middle of a war zone. Her team had been tasked with escorting a high-ranking general to a meeting with local tribal leaders. It was supposed to be a routine mission, but in this part of the world, nothing was ever routine.
As the convoy approached the village, Sarah could see armed men on the rooftops. Her grip tightened on her M4 carbine. “We’ve got tangos at 12 o’clock,” she radioed to the other vehicles. “Everyone stay alert.”
Suddenly, a rocket-propelled grenade streaked out from an alleyway, slamming into the Humvee in front of them. The vehicle flipped end over end, bursting into flames. Sarah’s heart pounded as she returned fire, cutting down two insurgents trying to advance on their position.
The firefight raged for what seemed like an eternity. Sarah’s magazine ran dry and she ducked down to reload, catching a glimpse of the general cowering on the floor of the vehicle. “Hang in there, sir!” she yelled over the deafening roar of gunfire.
Finally, the enemy broke contact and retreated. Sarah emerged from cover, her uniform torn and stained with dirt and sweat. She checked on the general – shaken but unharmed. As she surveyed the aftermath of the ambush, she couldn’t help but think about how she had planned to spend her birthday back home – dinner and drinks with friends, maybe a movie. Instead, she was in a war zone, surrounded by death and destruction.
But as she looked at the faces of her fellow soldiers, she realized that they were her family now. And they had just survived another battle together. That was worth celebrating, no matter what day it was. Sarah smiled grimly and headed back to the vehicle, ready to continue the mission. There would be time to mourn later. For now, she had a job to do.
