Ambush | Short Story

John

433 Soldiers of the 56th Battalion were posted at the Darwan valley. They were commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Anthony McAfee, who was a forty-five years old strong, tall and hefty person. Only one sweet blow of his fist is enough to knock the enemy down. It was the evening of the 11th of August, 2015 and the contingent were planning to plant an attack on a Taliban force based on the other side of the valley.

Lieutenant Colonel McAfee and Major Nathan Kelly were having a conversation-

'Sir see, we have 433 soldiers and they have around 600 Taliban as some secret reports say. What should be our plan for tomorrow?', asked Major.

'The strategy which we have been following for days. The same one. Just a one change. I want around seventy-five to a hundred men deployed at the sides and they must hit simultaneously when we plant an attack from the front. But yeah, they must attack a little while later so that we divert their attention from the front and then when they would become vulnerable from the sides of the valley, our men will stage an attack on 'em. They are supposed to hide themselves out there and I want around forty percent of them being snipers. I hope you understood the plan, Major.'

Major Nathan nodded in affirmation and the conversation on different plans and strategies continued.

........

One of these 433 soldiers was Corporal Jonathan Tyler, alias John. He was allotted to stay at the east side camp of the regiment. He had a thin and lean figure, was a fresh recruit and aged around twenty-two. Seeing him, one cannot say he belonged to US armed forces.

It was night time when everyone had had their dinner and were having some healthy gossips in their tents. John was sitting at the corner of his tent-house, which already comprised of around sixteen men, when Captain Dred Sanders suddenly entered the canvas and all soldiers stood up except John who was immersed in his reading.

Captain Sanders was a strict, arrogant and sadistic person. It seemed as if he had never liked anyone in this world be it his mother or father or wife or his twelve-year-old daughter. He always made an annoying face and was almost irresistible on his bad days.

'Uh-mm', he made a throat clearing expression.

It was now only that John got to realize of his surroundings.

'Good evening, Sir!', he cried with nervousness, keeping his head held high and looked up before saluting him.

'Good Evening, Mr.-', he peered closely at John's chest to see his name and then said '-Jonathan'. John gulped but still did not look down.

'What kept you so much busy to ignore your Captain, huh?'

'Sorry sir, I was reading a book!' he shrieked again.

'Oh, you can stop shouting, corporal, and be at ease', he ordered.

He went on adding, 'Just look at you. You look like a fuckin' murine. Too young to be a soldier at the Special Armed Forces. Ya an acquaintance of the Governor or the Minister of Defense?'

John stood as still as he had been, still looking up, giving respect.

'Just don't come under the feet of ours tomorrow', saying so Captain Sanders cackled. 'Go get yourself some sleep, you arse! Try to muster up some energy. We have an important battle to fight tomorrow.' He turned towards First Lieutenant Dylan Howard and said, 'Hey Howard, get this coward some slumber...... Oh I forgot what I had come to say because of this crap!'. He pondered a while and then continued, 'Yeah! Tomorrow, we are planning an attack early morning on the damn terrorists and some of you are to attack from the side of the valley. Is that clear?'

'Yes sir!', all bawled in unison and then the Captain left.

'Don't mind his words, man. He's himself an arse', Howard tried to console John with a smile. This time he didn't give any expression. His face was empty of any kind of emotions. He just turned back, went to his bunk, got seated, took out his shoes and jacket and lay down there, without uttering a single word. The time was around 10 p.m.