Post 5

The attack happened ages ago it seems, but when we awoke this morning the rage burned white hot in our hearts and the pain of what happened was present as if it all happened only yesterday. It was from this that emerged a newfound sense of despair and recklessness that drove us towards the enemies gates with the thirst for blood. Even in the dark hours of the early morning as our Hummers crept across the dark desert towards our prey I could feel that today would be the day we would exact some measure of revenge.

We had chased the enemy three times around this area of barren desert, following the tracks left behind from one destroyed and nearly abandoned desert village to the next. Somehow we could never move quite fast enough to catch up to the enemy, but we were close enough behind to watch their movements and bide our time. Occasionally an ally would step up, offering assistance in slowing our fleeing enemy; every time we would give the metaphorical head shake, rejecting their offer to help. We were unwilling to allow our allies to take even a little piece of the glory that we sought to gather in this battle. It was a glory that we were unwilling to share; it is a glory that would be ours alone. Then, last night, the night watch had been patrolling the borders of our camp when they had seen the enemy in the distance, finally close enough for us to strike at. This morning as we drew nearer to the enemy I got the sense that they had not chosen to stop running, but something, on our behalf, had intervened with their cowardly flight around their country and forced our enemy to turn and face the monster it had awoken within us.

Within bombing distance of the enemy we drew to a sudden stop when a message was sent out to us crackling out of an announcement system, and filling the dark morning with an eerie disembodied voice, “Brutal as you are we will not defile you, if the Almighty grants to us that we can wear you out, we will give you back to your nation to be sent home in your flag covered coffins. Will you do likewise?” Silence filled the gap that stretched between us. We couldn’t forgive them for what they had done; there are no trustworthy oaths between men and lions, and there could be no love between us. How ridiculous that they thought after all this fighting, after all this time, that talking would simply bridge the factions and ease the wounds on both sides. There is not glory to be had in talking. We turned to the General and waited for our signal to move forward. I tightened my grip on my rifle and flexed my shoulders, mentally preparing myself for the battle. We moved forward silently, guns up and fingers poised readily over the triggers, our eyes searched for places where they seemed weakest, places where our bullets and bombs would be most destructive. We found our mark and moved forward as a single entity towards our enemy. The battle didn’t last long, within minutes the last shot rang out and the morning was once again silent. The sun came up as we crept into the camp covered in the humming silence of death. “Die,” I heard someone whisper as we moved through the destruction checking for movement, “die.”

The last of us finished our rounds and returned to the Hummers where we found the flags and insignia of the battalion we had destroyed burning in an unceremonious heap. We left then and as we drove back to camp I turned to look back and watched as the flames we had lit defiled their flag on the land of their own fathers. Black smoke curled skyward, a vivid marker for all to see the strength of our might and glory, and in that smoke lay the beginnings of the immortality of our name.