London was hit. I can hear the cries but, sitting in my trench staring straight ahead, the sound turns into fog and dissipates without reaching me. I feel nothing, not even ange, except a sense of relief that it was not me who got hit. Idle days before 9/11 are fading memories, replaced with stains on my uniform.
As I have written before, we are all soldiers on the frontline of battle against terrorism, a line made up of billions of people. There is no similar line on the other side, just an expanse of impenetratable darkness. The darkness is born out of pride and despair, a mix that turns lives into explosives. It is almost comical that they have to throw their lives away to make them meaningful, but that's the lure of darkness.
Hundreds on the line got hit today. Much more will die before the dawn comes. I am sorry but today is just another day at the frontline for me. I'll cry for the dead when the dawn comes, but not before.