Friday, XXXX
These lads play strange games. It is nonetheless entertaining. I could not quite catch what the name was but it does involve hitting a ball and running across designated lines. It is a bit of a cross between cricket and baseball. Dear one, I do think you would have liked it. There are two ten membered teams and they call themselves 'Red shirts' and 'White shirts '. Not much in the imagination department, evidently, and not much in security either. We were all very tense, they were playing on open ground, and we feared aerial bombing even though this is supposed to be miles into a secure frontier.
Nevertheless, the situation passed without much incident, discounting that one time one of the boys tried to beat up his rival from the opposition. Unfortunately, or otherwise, they both were disqualified, and led out of the field by their ears. I must admit, with little shame, that I was one of the many that laughed at the sight of two teens being frog-marched away by their mothers. Unni, you will be glad to know, disapproved.
We did nothing other than sit on the makeshift terraces and cheer the teams - if you must know, Red Shirts won, and I most certainly supported them; but cheered for the Whites to not dishearten the already losing team - but we are all bone-weary tonight. Taki kept making incongruous jokes and Unni would have none of it, so he nicked half of his cigs. Taki was not pleased; I can tell you that. But more of this later. We are all so pleasantly tired - no one wants to be on the first watch (we are in a town anyway) and all such troubles must be shouldered and shooed by the NCO. They say it so right, the CO is the soldier's leader and the NCO is the friend.
Sincerely yours,
The Soldier.
YOU ARE READING
At War
Romance"Revenge by young men is considered victory, but old men who stay at home in times of war, and mothers who have sons to lose know better." -Chief Seattle This is an anti- war epistolary novella written for ONC 2022. Prompts 5 and...
