Invasion of the Most Sacred

The APU’s wined at a high-pitch as the Falcon Jet crawled out of it’s remote hangar. Chester thought about everything that was set in motion by his plan. A noble plan, to end terrorism. To end the effects and thought processes of extremism. To stop the separatist from waging war. To stop the innocent women and children who were killed by aimless acts of violence from groups of people hungry for power and territory. People that would die for a just a portion of what he and his family had. People that hated him for the simple fact that he was born into it all. Chester was tired of the news reports too. How many more years and decades did it have to continue? It seemed like no one who had the power to, tried anything substantial. There were even people in civilized and modern regions who didn’t even know of all the atrocities these groups caused. Chester felt that overall was unacceptable. Now, everyone would be aware. Not just the prominent extremists but any group of people who thought violence and chaos was a way to get their point across. From Al Qaeda all the way to the angry citizen mobs of Ferguson, Mo. This process usually took place on Disney road around 0500 hrs. They’d all line up on either side of the street in silence. The gym clamshell would be closed. And, everything else for that matter. Soldiers and civilians forming a mixture of clothing down into the horizon. P.T. gear, t-shirts and jeans. ACU;s, DCU’s and MultiCam’s. Mostly MultiCam’s. After waiting for a different amount of time every week, three or more vehicles, consisting of a military police SUV at least one up-armored HUMVEE and another police vehicle in the rear would slowly convoy down Disney, making a right onto the road leading to the flight line. At that point the deceased service-member or members would be lifted onto a Globemaster where they’d be taken home, for their final honors. A heart-wrenching turn of events when so many soldiers who departed from the same place waving and smiling to their families and loved ones, only to return in this fashion. The mood of the patrons usually didn’t turn completely somber until the vehicles neared. As if seeing the casket made it all more real somehow. Maybe it did. Salutes, would be rendered as the convoy passed by. The most meaningful salutes. The ones not commanded, or mandated by written protocol or standards. These salutes, were rendered by ones own will. These salutes were rendered out of respect. Honor. Sometimes even sorrow, regret and even love. But always respect. For what many called the ultimate call of duty. A few would call it a part of a days work. She’d been warned of this. The reason for the Hijab in the first place. A womans skin was to only be seen by a womans father, and close family. Indoors. A wife's beauty, was meant to only be seen by her husband. It’s a sacred thing. Not everyone should be able to experience it, not everyone could handle it. She saw it is somewhat of a blessing, and a compliment all her life. But right then, she realized the flaw. The flaw her mothers, grandmothers, and great-grandmothers never seemed to realize, or at least not out loud. It wasn’t their beauty which was the issue. It wasn’t even the displaying of their beauty, mysterious eyes, soft and tantalizing skin and bountiful curves which were the problem. It was the lustful and disrespectful eyes which gazed upon them. And instead of teaching those lustful eyes, and the men they belonged to, to respect the beauty of a woman, they simply figured it’d be easier to place that responsibility on the woman. Tell her to cover herself. Tell her she must respect herself. Respect Allah. Never once has she heard of the men being taught to respect the woman.