By
Roger B. Domian
The night was cold and harsh and the atmosphere seems almost ghostly as I sit in my barracks on this Christmas Eve. The Air Force is great, except for when a war breaks out, and we haven't had one of those in quite a while. Thank God. Laying face up with my hands clasped behind my head, I staring up to my roommates unslept in bunk. I think of the warmth he must be sharing with his family and friends on this brisk night of our Christ's birth. A chill runs through my body as a quiet, almost ghostly sounding Silent Night is played over the loudspeakers throughout the hallways of the building. It hauntingly echoes through the deserted hall once containing the presence of military men at work. A tear fills my eye and continues to roll down my cheek as thoughts run through my head of what I could be doing if my presence wasn't here. Swallowing roughly I wipe the tear away, and blink a few times to clear my eyes. My eyelids seem to grow heavy and the soon close as the soft music penetrates my soul.
Suddenly breaking the silence throughout the atmosphere the battle alarms sound out, sharply shooting through my ears like a dagger through my skull. It breaks all thoughts from my dazed mind. Quickly jumping from my bed I prepare to make ready for battle, slipping into my jumpsuit while running down the hall. Down to the hanger and into my jet fighter. These battle alarms don't go off by accident since all is carefully watched over and ready throughout the base. When they do go off, I must do my job. Protecting our United States from anything.
I slip on my helmet, switch on communications, and grab the stick gently as I rush my fighter out of the hanger and into this dark frigid night.The G forces push me back as I climb to a suitable height. Leveling off I sigh deeply staring out of the small domed shaped windows at the darkness. Not a thing in sight except for the thousand of tiny snowflakes that shoot by me at enormous speed. Base then reports that I have visual on my small cockpit radar. I slowly, as if in a daze lower my head to see. I then spot the tiny white dot on the lime green scope that gently moves at a calm speed. Reports enter my head telling me that base has tried numerous times to communicate with this object to no avail.
Grabbing the stick I increase my speed as I fly to the point of contact with the knowledge that I may have to shoot this thing down. The air pressure thins and I find it now more difficult to breath. Sweat grew at my forehead, I suddenly grew dizzy, the though of myself passing out crept into my thoughts. I have never in the past but there was something about this mission, together with the cold temperatures and the speed I am traveling my mind spins as the passing snowflakes now speeding by me gives the impression that I am traveling through a sort of tunnel. I am not sure. I have been sent to shoot down a 'U.F.O'. Will I return tonight? The future holds my destiny.
I notice on the radar that the object now raised to a higher plateau as if it were trying to avoid my arrival but it's speed is no match for my sleek fighter as I too climb to intercept. My heart starts to beat faster, more rapidly than before, and swallowing is difficult as if it is in my throat.
Thoughts of the barracks, laying in my bunk with the haunted feeling of loneliness, not a friend nor relative keep flashing back to me. I glance back to the radar and notice that the object has vanished. But where could it have gone? Did I pass over it? How stupid could I have been to fill my mind with other thoughts when I was to keep sight of this 'U.F.O'. In panic I start to press buttons on the radar to see the various locations around me. Then, as quickly as it had vanished, it had returned and continued on it's calm way.
Getting a perfect fix I increase the thrusters higher to intercept. It wasn't getting away from me this time. Between the continuos rumble of the jet and the frigid temperature my feet grow numb, they feel not a thing - But no! I can't think of that, can't distract my mind. I've got to shoot this thing down, and soon.
I suddenly hear my name, someone calling me. Am I hallucinating? I look around. I shack my head. No, I am not dreaming. It is base on my headset. In a faint voice I hear them notify me that I am in firing range. Crackling static overcomes the communication as they continue with they're message. The message that I could not understand. Do not shoot it down? No, that can't be. They said to shoot it down. That's why I am here, to fulfill my job.
I glance to my radar and shoot, sending me a jolt as the missile goes on it's way. Watching on the radar screen I watch as the object moves quickly from the missile which then passes by. I let another one fire but that too is maneuvered away from. The object is too far. I need to get closer.
I increase my fighter to the max as I watch the tiny yellow dot on the radar move about avoiding the missiles. This time I'll get it, I had to. I speed head on to the thing as the g forces pull at my face. I close my eyes. I hear the missile lock on. I fire, and pull back on the stick to raise above the explosion that rocks my jet.
Leveling off I glance to the radar and see that the object had disappeared. I sigh to myself and slowly return to base to receive my congratulations.
Upon returning I found the entire base quiet. Everyone I saw were saddened, expressions of disbelief on they're faces, passing me by,patting my back, and shaking they're heads. During my briefing I realized that I was told to avoid the object, to not shoot it down. A contact was made with the base, but in a highly unusual way.
Now, as I lay in my bunk with a blank stare on my face, I brush a tear from my eye. The sorrow and shock of this new sadness in my mind. Knowing now what I had shot down.
It was a tiny red sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.
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Copyright ©1998 Roger B. Domian