The tales of combat are long told
as the legends and lore we hear to the war stories that fascinate us as
children. They teach us honor integrity values and the difference between right
and wrong through these stories. Yet when the time comes not one of us honors
our knowledge, not one of us has the integrity to do what’s right than to
survive and no one differentiates between the right and the wrong when the sword
is at his own neck.
In a sandy battlefield a lone
soldier stood, watching the enemy through his scope wondering where his comrades
were. The very same comrades who were supposed to have arrived here two hours
ago, the comrades who were supposed to back him up, who were supposed to have
given him a cold drink and a soft bed by now. Where were they? The enemy was
getting closer and they were nowhere in sight. The land was getting harsher and
the sun was in his eyes, the wind was blowing into his face and the sand was
getting into his eyes and in that he didn’t hear any sound save that of his own
breathing. Not even the sound of the two people who crawled behind him and
knocked him out cold.
Where was he? What was the time? Who
were the people who snatched him? All these questions were buzzing in his mind
along with a very bad head splitting headache. A couple of bulbs lit the room
brightly and brought every detail into sharp focus as his eyes regained focus.
He saw one door and walls of concrete informing his that escape was almost a
physical impossibility. He was tied to a chair both arms and legs locked back
and inter connected. The wait was long. He had no idea how long he was left
that way. No sense of day and night, minutes nor hours. He began wondering
after a while if anyone missed him. If his comrades who said they would back
him up had arrived to find him one and thought he deserted.. He wondered if the
thought of him being abducted had even crossed their mind. He wondered if his
comrades might talk the worst of him for h=not being there. He wondered if
there would even be an attempt to find out what happened to him. He wondered how
his family would feel when they were informed that their son had deserted. How
society would treat them. Then an even more horrifying thought crossed his
mind. What if his comrades couldn’t come because they were dead. What if they
had been killed by the very men who they were trying to kill? Or rather what if
his comrades were to die while searching from him after they realized that he
had been taken? Would their deaths be on hands, would their lives be lost
because of him? What would happen to their families? Where is all this going to
end? We were only trying to protect the city behind us that contained our
nearest and dearest. What would happen if all of them fell chasing just after
him? Or what if they already had perished? The city would be in chaos, everyone
in it in mortal danger if not headed for something worse. His dearest and the
younger children would be put through horrors not even describable. The elders
killed and the rest put to hard work and shot later. This was to live. They
were hunting us down and killing us just because they thought they were
superior and we didn’t follow their way of thought? Whatever happened to freedom?
We took up arms so that we could protect our people and our homes. We wanted to
be the guardian angels that protected them but now because of our resistance
they would face even more horrors at the hands of their tormenters should we
fail and I have filed. I have failed to protect the very people I swore to
protect and I will either have failed miserably or be assumed to be a coward
and be disgraced. Either way I have failed or I am no longer a guardian angel
but a man who is just a coward waiting for what is to come.
The guard who was watching the
soldier from the other side of the door notices that the soldier was crying and
goes to inform his superior that the prisoner is ready for interrogation and
that all the conditions that he was ordered to monitor have been met.
