Late to the War

Private Granik wandered aimlessly through the barren landscape. For the last two weeks he had been enjoying his leave, only to be rudely interrupted by the news that the war was back on. He didn't even have time to meet back up with his troop. All he knew was he had to be ready for action at the top of Mad Dog Hill at 0800 sharp.

The closer he got, the more ill at ease he became. Why was there no sign of his troop? Had he come to the wrong place? That couldn't be, his GPS unit had always been correct. He double checked the orders. 0800. No question.

He began ascending the hill, slowly, dragging under the weight of his military equipment. He still hadn't adjusted back to it yet. Hopefully in time the creaking in his joints would stop, the throbbing in his arms and legs would stop, and the incessant yawning would be replaced by alertness and enthusiasm.

Upon cresting the hill, he was relieved to look down and spot another person. Not a large troop, just one lone figure.

“Ho there!” Granik shouted, waving his arm wildly. The figure far below spotted him and waved back, and both made their way towards one another. Reaching midway down the other side of the hill, Granik shook hands with his new companion.

“I'm Private Granik, pleased to meet you. I was beginning to worry I'd gotten lost.”

“Same for me. Private Samuels.”

“Any idea what's happened to the rest?”

“Not a clue. We were meant to arrive at Mad Dog Hill at 8 AM, right?”

“That's what I was told. Did something happen to the others on their way here?”

“Couldn't be. I didn't see any signs of them anywhere along the trail. I assume you didn't either. You got further ahead than I did.”

“What do you mean? You were further ahead.”

Private Samuels furrowed his brow and pointed behind himself. “Didn't you come from that way?”

“Nope. That way,” Granik replied, pointing in the opposite direction.

They both froze and stared at each other. Granik only now began noticing the difference between their uniforms.

“You're wearing the H.R.E brown and gold...”

“You're wearing the Shanduchan red and black...”

Granik's hand began moving slowly towards his rifle. “Are you not from Colonel Ferdinand Smoche's regiment?”

“No,” replied Samuels, mimicking Granik's move. “General Ieyashu.”

In unison, each flung up his firearm and pointed it at the other.

Granik's fingers twitched as they rested on the safety and the trigger. The twitch moved up into his hand and his entire arm. A small bead of sweat made its way down his face. He had managed to avoid seeing action up to this point. Sure he'd been trained, but he still felt unprepared for this situation.

Samuels was more composed on the surface, but inside he was screaming. He had only volunteered two days prior. He hadn't even gone through any kind of basic training. If the military weren't in such dire need of men, he probably wouldn't have been getting sent into action already. As it was however, General Ieyashu desperately needed troops. The haste and vigor with which Samuels was conscripted and sent to battle was overwhelming for him, giving him nothing but his scant experience as a hunter to guide through his use of weaponry. Thankfully, he had a natural composure that prevented others from observing this.

“So,” asked Granik, “what do we do now? Open fire?”

“Who knows?”

“I technically haven't gotten orders yet.”

“Nor I.”

“So the question is then … will our commanding officers be impressed by our initiative if we just open fire? Or will they be angry at us for acting without authorization?”

“I assumed that's the kind of thing one of Colonel Smoche's soldiers would already know.”

“I'm new.”

“Oh. So am I.”

“Oh.”

The steely glances faltered. The tips of the rifles began bobbing slightly as the hands holding them lost resolution.

“Well let's look at it logically,” continued Samuels. “If we fire on each other, but didn't have orders to, then we may be disciplined for it. But if we were meant to and we don't, we can always just claim we hadn't seen each other yet. Or we could say we'd fought hand to hand.”

“So what you're saying is that if we kill each other now we may get in trouble. But if we wait for clear orders, then we'll probably be okay?”

“That's how it seems to me.”

Granik nodded slightly. “Then put your weapon down first.”

Samuels chuckled. “But I don't know if you're truly convinced. Let's do it together.”

“Fine.”

Samuels counted down slowly, and then both lowered their guns simultaneously. After the barrels were clearly pointed away from each other, they let them drop completely to the ground. Samuels and Granik each breathed a heavy sigh of relief. A deep, unbroken silence fell on the hill. For a few moments, Granik and Samuels looked at one another, to the ground, to the sky, to the distant trees, to their boots, until finally Samuels sat in the grass and laid back.

“I guess we'll just need to pass the time until our commanding officers arrive.”

Granik shrugged and sat in the grass a few feet from Samuels.

“You hungry?” he asked him.

“Starving,” replied Samuels. “The war hasn't been good on crops where I'm living. I only joined up because the military offered three meals a day.”

Granik dropped his weighty backpack to the ground, resting it beside his rifle, and began searching through. He pulled out half of the food packs and laid them on the strip of grass between the two men.

“We can split this. I'm saving the rest for later.”

Samuels nodded in agreement, and then picked up his small metallic lunchbox. Besides his rifle and an ammunition pack it was the only thing he was carrying. He dumped out the contents to allow Granik to look through it and select some items of food in exchange. Silence reclaimed them as they ate slowly, heads craning around and watching for any sign of their respective forces.

“So if you had never joined up,” Granik asked, interrupting the quiet, “what would you be doing right now? Most likely.”

Samuels sighed and looked up into the blue sky. “Plowing season begins soon. I'd probably be getting everything ready for that. Life is so much more simple with that as my focus. Just make sure I have the food I need. No other concerns whatsoever. No silly war or political squabbles or whatever it is that caused this brouhaha. Just working my own land to provide for myself. What idiot decided life should be more complicated than that?”

“What did start this war anyway?”

“Couldn't tell you if my life depended on it. So how about you? What would you be doing right now if you had never joined up?”

“That depends. In this fantasy version of my life, is my family still alive?”

“Oh.”

“If this war had never started … if General Ieyashu had never sent soldiers into my hometown and killed everyone … then I'd probably be leaving to go to work. I would be finishing my coffee, kissing my wife goodbye, and heading out the door.”

Silence fell over them again.

“How long ago?” Samuels finally asked.

“A few months.”

“And you've been with the military ever since?”

“What else was I going to do?”

Samuels considered his next words very carefully, trying to think the gentlest possible way to express his sentiment. Finally he said “Do you think that was the wisest idea?”

“What do you mean?”

“You're angry because soldiers came and killed everyone you love. So you react by becoming a soldier, going out, and fighting. Doesn't that just add fuel to the flame?”

Granik laughed in response. This eased Samuels considerably. “I never said I've fought.”

“But you've been in the army for months. You haven't fought?”

“Not at all. Believe me, in this conflict, it is much more dangerous to be a civilian. Look at the statistics. For every solider who dies, there's at least seven civilian casualties. Joining the army was the safest move there was. And I don't think I'd call me joining up adding fuel to the flame. I didn't join for revenge. Honestly I don't even care who wins. I just want the dumb war to be over.”

“Judging from the quality of your equipment, I think it will be pretty soon. Ieyashu's men are suffering in comparison.”

“Yeah,” Granik said, eyeing Samuels' weapon. “What is that thing anyway?”

“It's mine. Brought it from home because Ieyashu isn't able to properly equip his men anymore.” He handed it over to Granik to allow him to see it more closely. “I joined for the food, remember, not the gear.”

“Ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous how?”

Granik laughed in reply. “Ridiculous the way we get treated. Here you're experienced enough with guns that you already owned one. I've never used one before in my life and they give me an expensive one that I'll probably break pretty soon through sheer inability.”

Granik handed his rifle over to Samuels to allow him to examine it more thoroughly. As he looked it over, he commented many positive things about it, things which made no sense to Granik whatsoever.

“If there were any justice in the world,” Granik continued, “you'd keep that and I'd take this one. Let me be honest with you, I don't even know how to reload that monster.”

“Seriously?”

“One hundred percent. I haven't fired it yet, remember. I know how to switch the safety on and off, how to pull the trigger, and that's it. If we were in a heated battle and I ran out of ammo, I'd be a dead man.”

Samuels rolled his eyes. “Let me offer you some life saving advice then,” and proceeded to demonstrate to Granik how precisely to handle it properly.

After the lesson had finished and the weapons were returned to their respective owners, the two men fell silent again, simply laying back on the incline of the hill and looking into the sky. For the first time in weeks Samuels wasn't hungry. For the first time in weeks Granik wasn't angry. The gentle tranquility surrounding them pushed the concerns of the ongoing war out of their minds.

“When this chaos is over,” Granik asked, “what do you suppose you'll do?”

“If I'm still alive you mean?”

“Yeah.”

“Depends on if I still have my land or not. Ideally I can go back home, rebuild, and just get back to what I was doing before.”

“And if you can't get back the land you had?”

“Move and start over again. The world is a big place. As long as there's a small plot of ground somewhere, I can make it.” He rolled his head over and looked at Granik. “How about you? What's your plans after all this?”

“I honestly don't know. This war has taken everything I've ever had. I may not even have a life when this is all said and done.”

“But if you do, if you survive to the end, what would you like to do?”

Granik shrugged again. “No idea.”

“Well here's an idea. Let's find a neutral territory. Neighbors who have no horse in this race, people who won't care which side we fought on. I'll go there and get my farm started back up, and you can come stay with me until you've got your life sorted back out. It'll give you something to do, something to keep you focused and keep you moving.”

Granik chuckled. “I suppose that's as good an idea as any.”

“So we're settled? Good. The only difficulty is how do we contact each other?”

“Easy. We go now.”

“What, really?”

“Yeah. Screw this stupid war. What's it ever done for us? We don't even know what we're fighting for. The only people who know are the ones who are sitting in air conditioned offices a safe distance away, happily pushing us to our deaths, and happily destroying the lives of the civilians caught in the crossfire. Let's bounce.”

“You're on. Where do we go from here?”

“I'm going back to pack up whatever I've got. Let's meet back here in, say, one hour?”

“Sounds good. This is everything I've got. I'll wait here for you.”

Granik left his gun and backpack with Samuels, jogging back to base camp with nothing but the clothes on his back.

###

Samuels sat in the warm sunlight on the hill. His mind raced with potential places to run off to. A neutral territory where nobody would care about his past and wouldn't care about the war. He envisioned meeting some local girls and sharing some locally made wine with them.

As his mind wandered, it was snapped back to reality by the sound of a low rumble coming over the hills.

###

Granik froze in his tracks. Blocking his path was the full force of Colonel Smoche's battalion.

“Halt!” came a commanding shout. Granik's eyes slowly registered the presence of three men pointing their rifles directly at him. “Identify yourself!”

“Private Granik!” he shouted in reply. Desperate to allay suspicion, he added “Where have you guys been? We were supposed to gather here at 0800!”

“Exactly,” said one of the men as they all lowered their weapons. “And it's 0754. We're exactly on time.”

“0754? Couldn't be. I got here an hour ago and my watch said 0800.”

The man approached him and looked at Granik's watch. “Daylight Savings. Did you forget Daylight Savings?”

###

Granik was hastily reintegrated into the battalion, being added to the rear guard. He was happy for that, but couldn't relax as he kept thinking about Samuels. Why had he waited right there? They should've devised a better plan.

“Incoming!”

The sound of alarm shook Granik from his private tranquil, and as he looked to the sky his eyes registered an incredible volley of firepower coming directly towards them. Where had Ieyashu's forces gotten this assortment? They were supposed to be in dire need of equipment.

Granik didn't have time to fully ponder as an explosion went off mere feet from him.

###

He awoke in the medical tent. He was relieved to note the hill had once again fallen silent. He began laughing as he realized yet another battle had passed and he hadn't fired a shot.

“Did we win?” he asked the doctor who passed by.

“Yes. And with hardly any casualties.”

“What about the other guys?”

“Not many casualties there either. Once their artillery ran out, they pretty much just turned and ran. I don't think we got even a hundred of them.”

“Good.”

The doctor stared at Granik in confusion.

“Uh, good that they ran so fast. Cowards.”

“Sure.”

After the doctor left, Granik looked around the tent with more clarity. He could tell he had been heavily medicated and he was struggling to clear his mind. He looked at himself. Two arms, good. Two hands, good. One leg, good.

He paused. He checked again. Two arms. Two hands. One leg. He laid his head down heavily on the pillow and laughed.

“Doesn't that just seem right? Stupid war. Stupid inconsequential battle. I bet no land was even gained. Just another waste of time like all the others have been.”

###

After a few hours Granik had tired of laying in bed and got up to take a look around. He had used crutches before when he'd broken a leg, so he adapted again quickly to them. Against the doctor's requests he got up and hobbled around to have a look at Mad Dog Hill.

Where just hours before he had experienced peace and tranquility, now there was remnants of chaos. The hill was unrecognizable as a result of the shelling, with swaths of mud tearing across the landscape. Wrecked assault vehicles littered the countryside, alongside scattered bodies that hadn't yet been picked up.

Amongst all of it, Granik saw Samuels, face down in the mud. Shot in the back. Granik dropped to his side in silence and thought. What had happened? Had he been the first victim of Smoche's forces? Did a sniper spy him from afar as he waited for me to return? Or had the battle actually begun? Was Samuels participating in the fight? Granik sighed. It didn't matter. Just one more stupid thing the war had taken. He got up and hobbled back to the tent.

###

“Congratulations Private Granik,” a uniformed man said to him. Granik hadn't bothered learning the man's name or rank, it didn't matter. “Looks like you're going home!”

“Home? To where?”

“Just … home.”

“I don't have one.”

“Well then, back to your family.”

“Don't have one of those either.”

The uniformed man sighed. “Look, you've done your duty, your tour is over, here's a medal. Be thankful.” He turned on his heel and left.

###

“State your name and rank for the record,” the uniformed man ordered. He sighed deeply within himself. Why did processing the prisoners of war have to take so long? Couldn't they just shoot them all?

“Alan Ramsay. Sergeant First Class.”

“And you've been with General Ieyashu's army for how long?”

“Since the beginning.”

“Scum.”

“Pig head.”

As they bickered, two men passed by carrying a stretcher.

“Ooh, hold up a moment,” Sergeant Ramsay asked. The men stopped and Ramsay lifted the sheet off the body they carried. “Ha! Good riddance!” he said, and spat on the face. With a wave of the hand, he motioned for the men to continue on their way.

“Friend of yours I take it?” the uniformed man asked.

“Hardly. A new recruit. No training, no military experience. He was waiting at Mad Dog Hill when we arrived. I took that as a good sign.”

“Initiative. Good way for a new recruit to stand out.”

“That's what I thought. But then when we heard you all arriving, he tried to leave!”

“What?”

“Yes. He blathered out some excuse, but I ordered him to stand his ground. Next thing I knew, he had dropped his gun and was running away.”

“Ugh. Cowardice. What an ugly trait for a new recruit.”

“Exactly. I shouted at him to halt, but he didn't. So I shot him twice in the back.”

“Good for you. No tolerance for sissies.” The uniformed man high fived Ramsay. “It's too bad we're on opposite sides. I'd love to fight alongside you.”

“Who knows? Maybe someday we'll have a common enemy and we can go to war together.”

“We can only hope.”