I heard the words, but my mind had already entered cruise control. My hearing had left on the same accord. I stood with bullets screaming through the air, one grazing the bridge of my nose — followed by a trickle of blood down my cheek.

I stood up and entered a lucid-state, one where a switch in my mind could turn off the war going on around me. The sound, destruction, and feel of defeat left my body. Instead, my entirety was focused on the child ahead of me.

He couldn’t be older than 12 and was laying flat on his back like he was playing dead. ‘No, Sergeant. That child is not playing dead. That child is dead.’ A bullet hit my inner-rib and nearly pierced my Kevlar vest, but I continued forward as if nothing had happened.

Somewhere off in the distance, I heard words that were converted to white noise. The boy lay motionless as I approached, every moment I hoped he would see me and show a child’s smile of innocence. ‘No, Sergeant. That child will not ever smile again. That child is dead.’

I tossed my rifle aside as I went down on one knee next to him, beads of sweat falling off my chin onto his ripped and blood soaked shirt. More yelling, but I paid no attention. I searched desperately for any sign of life from the silent body. ‘No, Sergeant. That child is not going to move. That child is dead.’

I rolled him onto his back and looked into his deep brown eyes. They were blank, the remains of what was once a bright and intellectual brain. I put my ear to his chest, his blood warm and staining my already dirty uniform, but there was nothing. ‘No, Sergeant. That child would not be breathing. That child is dead.’

I reached into my holster and pulled out my pistol and set it on the ground next to the child’s motionless arm. I placed my hand lightly over the dark brown eyes and closed his eyelids. Whispering into the stagnant air the prayer of fallen soldiers, with single tears dripping down my face. ‘No, Sergeant. That prayer won’t help that child. That child is dead.’

I took off my helmet and placed it over the child’s head, and stood up into the firefight with my pistol. Guns deployed in every direction around me, and the sharp pain of another bullet hit the back of my thigh. The force took me back down to one knee next to the boy. I took one last glance in hopes that he would open his eyes, smile and run away from this place forever. Nothing. I reached down and picked up the pistol, and kicked off the safety.

The barrel of the gun was cool against my temple. I closed my eyes with one thought, ‘Sergeant, that child is dead. And you killed that child.’

I pulled the trigger.