Shriek

By Eric Chandler

I remember the first time 
I dropped a live two thousand pounder
it made a picture perfect mushroom cloud
there in the desert 
like a kid draws
it was 
a dumb bomb
on a 
training range
south of Phoenix

Then the bombs got smarter
I got better at dropping them
I pointed the laser 
at the target 
and the smarter bomb 
chased it 
to impact

there was even a clock 
counting down
that estimated how long the bomb 
would take 
before it entered
the video and 
exploded

All of this
like a silent movie
Just the hiss of the air 
over the bubble canopy
The static of the radio in your ears
The sound of your own engine
More a low vibration than a sound
The bombs impacted 
in a flash
on a little screen
in the cockpit
but silent

Then, after many years of bombs
silently flashing in front of my eyes
and on my screens 
and in my films
I finally had a training exercise
where I saw my own bombs
impact
More importantly
I heard them impact

There were regular video cameras 
right next to the targets
The targets were shipping containers
stacked in a pile
the video cameras 
were there to assess the accuracy 
of the laser guided bombs
and they recorded sound

I was good at this
I took pride in delivering the bombs
at the highest possible speed
at release
so they would guide 
to the target better
These were inert weapons
Full-sized bombs
but without explosive
so the cameras could see
the endgame

I watched the video and 
for the first and only time
heard the high-pitched shriek
of the air
being ripped apart
as my bomb
screeched in on the target
and the thunderous
ka-RANG
as the inert bomb
ripped apart the steel sides
of the shipping container and
made it jump 
A shriek and a terrifying crash
even without explosives

Years later, at the wars,
I watched little silent mushroom clouds
with my eyeballs
I watched the clock countdown
3,2,1
until the blinding silent flash in the screen
meant I did my job well
I saw the clock count down 
as my bombs silently found the guy 
hiding in the rocks

Years later
long after the mushroom cloud settled
I wonder
Did he hear the shriek?

****

Eric Chandler is the author of Kekekabic (Finishing Line Press, 2022) and Hugging This Rock (Middle West Press, 2017). His writing has appeared in Northern Wilds, Grey Sparrow Journal, The Talking Stick, Sleet Magazine, O-Dark-Thirty, Line of Advance, Collateral, The Deadly Writers Patrol, PANK, The Wrath-Bearing Tree, Consequence Magazine, and Columbia Journal. He’s happiest when he’s on a trail in Duluth, Minnesota with his wife, two children, and faithful dog, Leo.