Quanto tempo è passato da quel giorno. Non ricordo. Forse un mese, forse un anno, forse di più. Ma ho ancora viva la memoria di ciò che accadde. Mi rivedo seduto sul pavimento mentre attendo che si compia il mio destino. Mentre cerco di portare a termine quell’ultima missione. Non riesco a respirare. Un groppo mi stringe la gola, è secca. Non bevo da ore. Rintanato in questo nascondiglio sento l’odore del mio nemico. È alle mie spalle. Non si muove, non parla, non fa rumore, ma è lì. Lo sento.
It is very difficult to tell exactly how long it has been since then. It is practically impossible to remember. It can be a month, maybe a year or even more. But one thing is very clear, I'm still alive and the events of what happened are still fresh in my memory. Every day, I see myself sitting on the floor, patiently waiting for the fulfillment of my destiny, even while I try to complete that last mission with nothing left on me, not even a drop of water. I could hardly breathe, due to a lump in my dry throat. Even though I could smell my enemy from my hiding place, I couldn’t move, neither could I speak nor make any noise.
I was completely exhausted by the many days of senseless fighting. So intense was the fighting that I was left with very few shots in my guns. I couldn’t afford to waste my bullets unnecessarily. Every shot must be with precision. Despite the low ammunition, my gun can never be silent in front of an enemy.