On Armistice Day- Iraq War Veteran Warrior Writer Douglas Randall- Jihadi Girl- a poem

On Armistice Day- Iraq War Veteran Warrior Writer Douglas Randall- Jihadi Girl- a poem

Frank Jackman comment:

Every war will bring out some writing or other artistic ability not necessarily previously shown by those who had the hard task of fighting wars up close and personal, too personal, in order to make some sense, some fucking sense in GI speak, out of the ordeal. World War II to name one such war had three outstanding writers tell what they saw and felt-James Jones of From Here To Eternity fame, Norman Mailer of The Naked And The Dead fame and William Styron of Sophie’s Choice (I know, I know, J. D. Salinger was a soldier-writer when he penned Catcher In The Rye but I am talking war story stuff not young guys coming of age stuff just now). My Vietnam War generation had Phil Caputo and Tim Neal among others. And so on through the litany of endless wars since those halcyon 1940s days. Iraq/Afghanistan is just starting to produce writing from guys and gals (the latter only on the margins of previous wars) who have had time to think about what they went through. Douglas Randall is one of the new faces on the scene from the recent series of endless wars.     

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On Armistice Day- Iraq War Veteran Warrior Writer Douglas Randall- Jihadi Girl- a poem

Frank Jackman comment:

Every war will bring out some writing or other artistic ability not necessarily previously shown by those who had the hard task of fighting wars up close and personal, too personal, in order to make some sense, some fucking sense in GI speak, out of the ordeal. World War II to name one such war had three outstanding writers tell what they saw and felt-James Jones of From Here To Eternity fame, Norman Mailer of The Naked And The Dead fame and William Styron of Sophie’s Choice (I know, I know, J. D. Salinger was a soldier-writer when he penned Catcher In The Rye but I am talking war story stuff not young guys coming of age stuff just now). My Vietnam War generation had Phil Caputo and Tim Neal among others. And so on through the litany of endless wars since those halcyon 1940s days. Iraq/Afghanistan is just starting to produce writing from guys and gals (the latter only on the margins of previous wars) who have had time to think about what they went through. Douglas Randall is one of the new faces on the scene from the recent series of endless wars.     

I am a Muslim informant for the U.S. Government.  My boyfriend, Paul, is a colonel in the U.S. Army.  Jihadi terrorists abduct me and make me their hostage.  They take me to the desert.  Of course the U.S. won’t pay my ransom. Why should they?

My desert prince places my fingers on the blade of his knife. He’s gentle. The knife leaves a slash mark on my fingers, but no blood. His friend video records my prince and me in the desert. Do I want to say anything?  “Paul,” I murmur, my American boyfriend’s name.

My prince draws the blade slowly across my throat. It is so sharp, I don’t feel anything but the tickle of blood as it seeps from the slash across my throat. I look wildly across the desert. The video camera’s red light pulses erotically. Prince grips my hair strongly pulling my head up as his blade continues its journey.  Up higher he pulls. The blade seems to circle my neck. Suddenly there’s a popping sound and I watch my body tumble to the sand. I’ve never seen my body from that angle before. I’m laughing uncontrollably. I’ve always enjoyed laughing, but now I run out of breath unable to inhale, my facial muscles frozen in a curious smile. I want to wave my arms, but they’re tied to my body sprawled in the sand. There was a movie, “Blood and Sand,” with Tyrone Power as a bull fighter. I remember him delivering the coup de grace to a dying bull. He was so handsome. My torso paints the desert red, the shifting sands cover all traces of human contact. I feel sad. A bold prince rides across the desert on a camel. Lawrence of Arabia. He’s come to save me. From what? I’m not in pain. Arabs loved Lawrence. He came to save them too. Behind Lawrence came a smiling Britannia.  France was smiling too…and far in the distance the United States.  Only Lawrence wasn’t smiling.

They came to carve up my Arabia….Sykes-Picot – PARTITION southern Iraq, northern Iraq, Jordan, Turkey – pain…..League of Nations – PARTITION Syria – pain…..Balfour Agreement – PARTITION Palestine, Saudi Arabia, Iraq  – pain….Great Britain, France, Faisal and in the far distance America are laughing….Jihadi prince -  PARTITION my head from my body….so slowly I thought I would die. Three seconds is a long time. Blackout.

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