At War

||29. The Twenty-Ninth||

Wednesday, XXXX

In all honesty I have no idea what is up with Unni. One minute he talks to me next minute he behaves as if I do not exist. In fact, I have given up on him and now only seek to hope that he gets his shit together real soon, or we are going to land in some serious trouble. It is not like I do not trust these villagers; it is just that I feel we need to be careful. I will admit the arrival of all these local leaders have made me paranoid. It is not right the people are incredibly friendly to a bunch of ragtag soldiers who claim to have captured them, but it is never wise to leave your back unguarded in enemy territory. Our messenger from the nearest base is scheduled to arrive tomorrow. Frankly, right now, all we hope for is that the top brass forgets about us and let us stay in this lovely place for some time more. Naturally, none of us say this out loud for fear of jinxing it. Does it make us bad soldiers? I am not entirely sure. But I do believe it makes us human. In times of war, it is important to retain your humanity. That being said, permit me to tell you what Unni has been up to. Only recently, he decided that I was worth his time, and it may have had something to do with the fact that I confronted him. Although, confronted is a very generous term. It was more like me waiting in our room for him to show up and subsequently, arguing the living tar out of him. There may or may not have been some shouting involved, but I assure you we resolved it with as much maturity we had, which, between the two of us, is not much. But I am literally saying this to the idiots decided to get enlisted, henceforth, I reserve the right to believe I have fared much better. Besides, it is not like there were any broken bones. Anyhow... we talked. He told me he was going through a hard time and he did not want to bother me because I was his NCO, which is the most bullshit excuse I have heard in my whole life – and I lived with you.

But see, I put on my adulty guy pants and let it go, and told him he could talk to me about anything he wished to. I have no idea if he took that seriously, he just gave me the type of weary smile a maths teacher would give to a toad solving differential equations. I hate being at the receiving end of condescension, you know that, and I might have even started a fight, but he was saved by our messenger coming in. I have no idea what secret message he is bearing, and why it could not have been told by radio, but by the spirits, I hate him.

Dear one, the moron just left. I know I should not call him that, it is not his fault – he is just a messenger, but what is this? I would have kept the letter up to the previous paragraph, but this! What is happening?

The nasty messenger, he came bearing a note and a notice, the latter to be put up for the village to see, and oh! But the horror! They want us to shut the local school! Taki tells me this is common, that language is the flag- bearer of people's struggle against foreign rule. It is a carrier of secret messages for rebellion (which may be true, it is not like I know what the locals are talking about; they might be planning to poison us sitting two metres away. Makes sense, but this?). he tells me that language is the heart of a nation, its identity and its people. By taking away their language, one takes away their identity, their individuality, and enslaves them to the nation that seeks to conquer. The horror! Imagine not being able to speak your own mother- tongue, having to rely on a foreign power not only for freedom (or the lack thereof), but also for their language.

Our Lieutenant seems very disturbed, and rightly so, I would say. Poor man, he must suffer the scorn and hatred the people will have for something his leaders asked him to do. Rosha tells me there is a word for it. Our Lieutenant is a 'scapegoat for the nation.' That makes more sense than it should. Some of us look downright sick. I feel sick. I am going to see if I can convince sir to give them a day. Maybe, if we put up the notice today, and then let them have a last class tomorrow.

The notice says the master should leave the village so he does not radicalise any more students. What sort of a demand is that? He is teaching the children. And even if he was radicalising – while I would condone any attempts at using children as soldiers and members of rebellion – we are occupying their country. How the fuck do they expect these people to take it lying down? Would we not protest if it were our land that was seized? I do not understand these things, dear one, I really do not. You kept saying we should join the war to do the right thing? Is this the right thing? Then, I do not think I am a fan of right things. In any case, do we even have any other options?

Sincerely yours,

The Soldier.