How Miss Saigon felt

As soon as I finished breakfast, I propped myself on the rocking chair and read the Inquirer.

Before I left Manila, things were pretty much quiet in the Middle East, as read on the papers and seen on TV. I was surprised to read in the headlines today that 9 US soldiers were killed in one of the bloodiest encounters in Iraq. A Japanese tourist was beheaded since the Japanese Prime Minister refused to pull their troops out from Iraq.

In Afghanistan, 3 tourists were hostaged. The terrorists were threatening to behead them if UN and foreign troops do not pull out of Kabul since the Afghan elections is drawing near.

Whenever there is news about the war in Muslim countries where our OFWs or US troops are deployed, I would feel for their families. I would feel strongly about the issue of terrorism in general as a global concern.

But this morning, when I read the papers, the hair in my arms and nape raised, my heart beat faster and there was a sick feeling in my gut. Tears were welling up my eyes as I tried to hold them back so my friends won’t see and make a big fuss out of it.

Yes, I already have a very personal stake in the Gulf.

The Buddy is in the US Army. Thus, the two years absence to be deployed in one of the treacherous and US Army-unfriendly countries in the Middle East.

He used to joke about him going home boxed in a coffin. He used to tease me by asking if I will cry in his wake.

I used to laugh along with him. But now, I didn’t find the jokes funny at all.

They hurt.

This is the last – and the worst – situation I want to be in. But I am.

I texted one of our common friends and told her the panic that I felt. She texted me back and said, “You really love him.”

I probably do. But right now, that doesn’t matter. I’m just waiting for him to come home - alive and in one piece.