It was one o’clock in the morning when a shot rang out above us. It was the night guard standing watch on the roof of our safe house in the middle of the city, warning us by firing his automatic weapon that our safety was being threatened either by the enemy trying to penetrate the property or attack us from any distance.
In a flash, our entire company of about one hundred and fifty men jumped out of bed, grabbed their weapons, and rushed outside to reinforce whatever was necessary. None of us had any clue what was going on we had just awaken literally seconds ago. All of us were laying down and firing into the darkness. We were still in our pajamas, barefoot, and with no body armor on to protect ourselves. Nothing was between our feet and the rocky ground beneath them. Nothing was between our bare shoulders and the M-4s we steadied against them. And nothing was between our exposed flesh and the enemy fire that was aimed against us.
That night the enemy fired seven rockets at us, each a little bigger than a baseball bat in size. One hit the roof and bounced off and the others didn’t come near us. The Iraqis didn’t have the technology we do that perfects aim, so they shot the rockets off in our direction from unstable launcher pods, just hoping that it would hit something.
When dawn came the next morning, there was nothing left to indicate what sort of casualties we may have inflicted on them. They either ran away or pulled all their men out. I’m sure that with so many of us firing in their direction, they changed their minds and turned tail to dodge the bullets. And none of the pajama-clad warriors were harmed
Lord, give me the confidence to do the right thing, even if I feel vulnerable and exposed while doing it.
“You will not fear the terror of the night, nor the arrow that flies by day.” (Psalm 91:5)