The Wall of Death

Yemenat

Ahmed Saif Hashed

In the paratrooper training course, I remember running in the “Thunder” field until I almost vomited. Yet, I persevered in a way I never expected. During the obstacle course, we had to climb a wall over twelve meters high, all while carrying our weapons and full military gear. The only assistance for this ascent was a rope securely tied at the top of the wall.

I recall one occasion when I nearly fell before reaching the top. My strength waned to the point where it seemed easier to fall than to continue climbing. A heavy fatigue overwhelmed me, and my legs struggled to maintain their grip on the wall. How could I ascend? My energy was depleted, my balance faltering, and climbing seemed impossible unless I could elevate my spirit.

My hands trembled, yet they fought against the imminent fall, which felt just an arm’s reach away. My palms were drenched in sweat, nearly bursting from the effort as they clung desperately to the thick rope. My silence, filled with stubborn pride, refused to call for help. I felt a shame that would consume me if I dared to seek assistance.

I became acutely aware that if I fell, it would be fatal. I understood that if my hands faltered even slightly, I would descend completely, committing the final folly of my life—a fatal folly that could leave me with a permanent disability. This profound realization in such a critical moment, coupled with a fierce instinct to survive, ignited a surge of adrenaline within me against this undeniable threat. I wrestled with the moment and overcame this deadly challenge.

I pushed through the climb, surpassing the danger, and reached the top of the wall, feeling as if I had performed a miracle that saved me from