"Men! Fall in!" Came the cry from the commander. It was in the dead of night and plans were being made for the attack at dawn. Both forces have been exchanging bullets and counting casualties and none is at the upper-hand, both were at loss.
Derrick and the rest of his platoon got up, grabbed their rifles and lined up with the rest of the troops."At ease!", said the commander.
The men had all their hands down, with their firearms at their side.
"It could have been thousands of days, weeks, months, or heck we know, even years that we've been exchanging fire with the enemy forces. We've laid out a plan, boys, to end this once and for all."
Shouts of joy came from the men. The end of the war was what they all have been waiting for. Every single day, they lose lives, they lose themselves. How many have gone insane, no one knows. Bomb shells drop silently. Only the whistling before its impact could be heard. Thousands dead on both sides. The men were tired of this. All they wanted so badly now was to return home to their loved ones.
As the commander went around making his so-dramatic speech bout how the war is going to end and about their victory, Derrick thought to himself, asking why such things should happen. War is not going to make any side gain. It is always a lose-lose situation no matter the conclusion of the war. It is just so stupid.
You then may ask why he's in the army. At times of desperate need, the country recruits anyone who is able-bodied to fight and well, die for his country.
As the commander concluded his speech, the men cheered and gave loud cries of joy and even singing their anthem. The battle plans were laid out before their bare eyes and everyone looked at it as the commander gave his explanation. He separated the men into their teams and gave them a briefing about their task and their positioning as well as their role in the battle. Derrick's platoon was assigned to the far left. There was only about 20 to 25 men in his platoon, and they were very much dead, as they were alive. They were to move out at first light, where it is most likely not to be seen. Scouts were sent out by each platoon to their designated area and to make preparations. Derrick and Marlz - so he called himself- were picked from their platoon. Marlz was a big burly man, well-built and squared and could be said to look like a perfect soldier. He had thick hands and strong muscular arms. No doubt would anyone feel safe being with him if it was not for a war.
At 2315 hours, the scouts moved out with almost nothing in possession. This was to lighten their burden and make their travels faster. All they carried was their M-16s, a few extra rounds, a little provisions and that was about it.
Travel was quick and little words were exchanged for in case enemy units were nearby. The silence provided a sense of ghostly comfort somehow. It just felt right in the darkness and through the dark recessions of the jungle. It all fell into place. Derrick could hear the winds silently blowing through the winds, the leaves shaking and branches bending at awkward angles sometimes and creaking as they went. It was definitely awkwardly comfortable alright.
They arrived at their designated area. "It is here, aye?" asked Marlz in his rough voice.
"As sure as the commander could heck well be", replied Derrick.
Marlz gave a soft roar of laughter to avoid making noise. "Roger that, boy. Now, let's do whatever we're supposed to be doin' here".
As they set about the area, making sure the area was clear of traps and devices, suddenly there was a rustling in the bushes nearby. It was not any kind of rustling that was made by winds. This was a kind of man-made rustling. Both Derrick and Marlz looked around, aware of it. They picked up their arms and looked around. Suddenly, something wet and sticky splattered onto Derrick's face as he heard Marlz gave a low groan and a soft cry of pain. Derrick turned around and he saw a bayonet stuck through Marlz chest. Derrick, aware of this grave situation sidestepped around Marlz and cried as he sprayed the area behind Marlz. He heard a cry and a soft thump.
"Get... the hell out.. outta here.. We've been found... Go! Get the f.." Was all Marlz could say as his last breath gave way.
Derrick, in his shock took a few seconds to understood and hastily ran through the jungle with his M-16 in arms, ready to fire. As he ran through the jungle, he realised this: There were gunshots ringing throughout the jungle, men were screaming out, grenades were going off. He concluded that they definitely have been ambushed and that the opposing force has predicted as much. As he ran the tress around him exploded in gunfire. It came to his understanding that he was being shot at. Instinctively, he turned around and shot at the direction. A thump was heard and he supposed he shot the target. He continued running. As he went running on, he tripped over a root of a tree and had his ankle twisted. Moreover, his foot was stuck. He began trying to free his foot. He heard several footsteps coming from where he came. This doubled his adrenaline and he began to cut the root with his combat knife, to no avail. He took out his rifle, and directed it ahead of him, determined to save his own life this night.
One man appeared, and Derrick fired and was true to his aim. The man went down. This alerted the other men with him and they started to approach Derrick in large numbers. Derrick, in desperation fired at every single one of them, not knowing how many he had taken down. It didn't matter to him anyway. As his consciousness fade and his very vision turned into darkness - nothing but darkness - he couldn't help but think about how stupid it is to wage war on another.
