I was on my way to Paris,
France and had made a stop in eastern Iran close to the border of Afghanistan in a place where a large number of Soviet troops were stationed. Several trucks pulled up which appeared to contain some peasants. As the peasants began getting out of the trucks I saw they were carrying machine guns and I realized they were Afghans fighting against the Soviets. The Afghans wasted no time and immediately opened fire on several truckloads of Soviets.I wanted to help the Afghans fight the Soviets and I imagined myself in the fray. I could see myself running toward the Soviet trucks, picking up a machine gun dropped by one of the stricken soviet soldiers and opening fire on the surprised soviet soldiers. In my imagination I sprayed shots all over the soldiers in one of the trucks, although I didn't seem to be killing anyone. Indeed one of the soviet soldiers got out of the truck and spoke a few words of English with me. My reverie was broken as the soviet soldier was led away as a prisoner by the Afghans.
The battle was over. I enthusiastically began talking to one of the Afghans and praised their effort. We spoke in French and he asked me where I was from. I answered, "Je suis Americain. Je suis en route a Paris."
Another Afghan seemed surprised to see me here but they all seemed to accept me as a friendly presence. I commented that they could have really made an impact if they could have surprised a larger soviet contingent which had earlier been in the area. I then wondered how many of the Afghans had been killed in the short battle. I said, "Cuantos ...." but realized I was speaking Spanish and started over in French, "Combien de ..." I was having a difficult time saying the words and I made a motion toward the area where the Afghans had been fighting. The Afghan obviously understood what I was trying to ask him and picked up the sentence saying, .".. leur de monde?"
Copyright 2005 by luciddreamer2k@gmail.com
