The Trials of War

Everything in life happens for a purpose.

A quote I know all too well. My story takes us years back, to when I was in the military. I fought for my country against those who opposed it, did everything in my possible power to prevent them from taking any of us. They said we'd gain a sense of pride in defending our home. They never told us about the thousands of people bloodshed - the families separated, the many friends who lost their lives. They convinced us we were saving lives, but in truth, we were the ones who were taking them.

"Faster Soldiers, rally up!" Our general screamed at us as we ran through our training course, the white sunlight of the afternoon seeping through our skin, burning our bodies with every minute spent there. I jumped over the dozen ramps, climbed the ropes and reminded myself of what this training would get me in the future.

"This is War." I kept saying to myself, a chance to keep things right in my home, a way to support my family - this is my place. The inspiration kept me going, drove me forward to finish the lap. 

"Well Done! I see a medal in your future, Jilu!" he teased. The general was strict when he had to be but light-hearted when he didn't need to be, one of the many things that made him a great teacher. As he spoke, another recruit, John Quent, finished the lap and had joined the conversation.

"This is War..." Quent mocked as he approached us. "At this rate, we may even have to try winning." The general's face turned grave at these words and reminded us: "The training may be simple for some, but in the heat of battle...just one mistake could mean death."

Quent started mouthing a few words but nothing came out.

We entered our cabins and sat down to recuperate ourselves. We knew that not much later, we'd have more training but focusing on target practice. Breaks were hard to receive, but finishing early had given us some time.

"Nice work today, still don't get the general's words. We haven't had any mishaps in the past few months - training or danger." Quent said. "Seems like regular training isn't ever enough. We both be waiting for the big threats, aren't we?"

I replied. "It's a huge burden being the first line of defense, and it's something we have to take seriously." 

He shrugged it off and walked outside the cabin. I figured he was on his way to the shooting ranges - to get started early. I decided to follow him, but as I got up I heard something, screaming!

I hurried outside as fast as I could, and when I stood at the entrance to the cabin, I stood speechless.

An entire cabin, not very far from mine, had been destroyed by an explosion. The planks which made up the cabin littered the ground, and so did the recruits who lived there. Several soldiers, like us, armed with guns and grenades, started firing. They destroyed many more cabins, killing dozens. These were not regular people. They had trained, like us, knew how to use their weapons - knew how to kill. But then there was something odd, as soon as some cabins were attacked and broken, recruits killed, they retreated. They spared no time and had disappeared. I ran towards the sight and gazed at the lifeless bodies, including Quent, who perished with a bullet in his head; these were innocent men and women who were training, like me, in hopes of saving a person's life. I glanced around with rage gushing through my blood and attempted to find whoever did this. The damage scared dozens, all of them running like untrained cowards. My eyes had only met the general, who I already knew had been trying to do the same thing as me. They got away. Anger, like no other, had filled me. I knew these people for years. They were my friends, my family. I needed to find justice for their sake.

We were forced into shelters around the camp for our safety. Despite the general's sense of fear and anger to find the attackers, he as well knew it was far too dangerous. The small, compact space prevented our freedom. The only thing I, and the other recruits, were able to do was hope for the best, recall the memories we had with those who had fallen. What scared me was the different feelings I felt; while others were grieving, crying over their lost friends, I had brought up anger and revenge. Revenge to make those who had done this feel the same pain they had brought on me, on those I cared. I had to plan - my time for patience had ended, the next attack had to be soon - which meant my way of finding them grew nearer.

We waited hours in the shelter until nightfall when we were given sleeping mats and sheets for sleep. While the others were sleeping, I revised the plans in my head - the surroundings of the camp would likely be where they were. They, too, must be planning their next attack. I couldn't let this opportunity fade, couldn't let them take more lives. I needed to do something.

I took as many weapons as I could find, all the protection I needed and headed out of the shelter. All of the military patrols were towards the entrance, but none towards the back door. I quickly climbed over the metal fence and around the outer perimeter. As I scouted the border, I kept thinking to myself: "Would this be the last time I get to see my friends? The last time I defend my home?"

I put those feelings to the back of my mind and focused on what I needed to do. But my mind trailed off once more.

"Would this be how I die-"

While lost in thought, I suddenly heard a click. 

I brought up my gun, pacing slowly, waiting for another clue - and it arrived.

An immense noise stunned me, and I jumped to cover. Gunshots blared behind me, dozens of bullets passing just centimeters away from my body. I tried my best to shoot back. I raised my hand to shoot as many times as I could, but before I could strike any of them, a bullet broke through my wrist.

My hand was bleeding, bones broken, my gun knocked out of my hand. There was nothing I could do but accept my death. I laid paralyzed, knowing I would never bring justice for my friends, but if I died, I died a soldier. I waited for my enemy to finish their battle, for them to take my life and end it all, but they never did. I rose from behind the trees to take one last look at the camp, but my attackers had vanished. I walked a few steps, my blood still dripping and thought they retreated. I tried to walk back to the camp to find a way to bandage my wound. But when I came into view of the shelter- all I saw was a fire.

I rushed as fast as I could, nothing but agonizing fear going through my mind. When I reached the entrance to the shelter, I couldn't believe what I saw.

Everyone dead, all the recruits burnt alive, only one man left.

"What happened? What did they do?" I blared at the silhouette.

He turned to face me slowly and smiled. I saw the General. "I told you, all it takes is one mistake. These recruits were useless, never responded to danger as you did. Only you attempted to take out your enemy. Only you used your training."

"What? I don't understand. Where are the people who did this?"

"The people who did this? They were like me, recruited to destroy this camp as well as the people here."

"What have you done..."

He responded by raising a grenade.

"It's a shame our sides had to be like this, but like I told you..." 

He spoke his final words as he pulled out the pin.

"This is War."