A Soldier is a Number

As outposts go, Raymond was in his element. Here he could be a sniper, general, or any other position or rank in the army. He was happy. No one telling him what to do, or him to oversee. Any work, he would do, to his high standard.
He sighed. Less than a few hours at this position. But he had food for weeks. And he was going to use the time wisely. Like relaxing and enjoying.
When the sun came up, he had few plans for the day. A lot of it was to catch up on sleep that he missed the night before. He had battle marched with a ton of gear on his back all night. It was a rapid march, one that would take an average soldier three days. But he had finished it overnight. He was still feeling pride and a rush from that, but then again, he had always been a trophy-winning athlete.
The first thing he would do was make his bed more comfortable. He was lying on a wood pallet. But he wanted something soft and warm.
He checked the zip of the army jacket at the chin. Icy air made its way to his neck and his chest. This was just one of many reasons why he couldn't doze. He needed sleep, but cold didn’t let him. His stomach rumbled, but he wanted to eat hot food. A small fire in the day is harder being seen by the enemy than at night. In his pack were eggs, butter, and fresh buns. In this frozen vastness, it would be heaven when heated.
So he lay and waited. And listened. To the sound of snow falling. To silence. Broken by the odd volley of artillery somewhere in the distance. He curled to the side ready to think about fond memories. And maybe snooze.
“Gunner! Engage at Sector 5! Confirm!” A familiar voice on the radio crackled the sharp military command.
Raymond was up.
“Received and will comply!” He barked into the radio and sprinted to his machine gun. The camouflage tarpaulin was flung off. The first light of the morning sun was used to aim the barrel and adjust the dials to correct elevation and direction.
He connected two belts of ammunition before a gentle squeeze of the trigger roared the machine gun to life. Then breathed only stinging cordite. Saw only the barrel spit red. Anything else was smoke. His ear drums hurt. The ammo used, he checked the chamber as a reflex before disabling the gun. He was to abandon it after this mission. And no enemy was going to use it.
Silence filled the air again.
It took a while before his ears started to tune into the environment again.
The hum of propellers. A drone coming for him.
The enemy knew his position. The drone was coming for intelligence and to kill him. He wasn’t going to give his life up or anything else if he could avoid it.
As the drone closed in, he was already running. He got far away from his firing position. Here, another weapon. A shoulder launcher. He locked onto the bayraktar drone and released the missile. An explosion mid-air and the parts tumbled down. But it was not over yet. He still had to move.
He ran for his life. Until he heard the whistling of artillery and the explosions that followed. Where he once was. And then he felt splatters of mud, stone, and other small projectiles from the blasts raining on him.
A corpse of trees gave him rest and shelter when he did stop. His heart stopped pumping hard and the adrenaline rush subsided. Now he had time to think and reflect.
He dared a glance at where the artillery rounds had fallen. There was nothing but a gaping hole and smoke. His stomach rumbled again. All his food that had been left behind, was now gone. For good.
He was proud of his actions. No doubt in the future someone would find fault, but he had accomplished his mission. He was alive, had destroyed a dangerous enemy drone, and released a wall of bullets at the target given. Whatever, or whoever was at the receiving end of his barrage, was not his problem.
If only he had eaten something when he had the chance.
Even the radio was gone. But that was a blessing in disguise. He had some peace for now. Something he enjoyed.
He had been lucky in more ways than one. He had come with another soldier to this position. Raymond carried the heavy machine gun and bullet belt, but the other soldier, who also was his cousin, had the shoulder-fired missile, which was light. Because they were family, Raymond made sure that his weight was heavier. As it happened, his cousin didn’t want to carry the missile all the way. It rubbed against some part of his body, so he had dropped it a short way away and told Raymond to fetch it in the later.
Raymond shivered and kept his thoughts to wonderful things like spring and sun until nightfall. No other drones made their way to his position, but he still played caution by concealing his position by placing branches above him. And there was some rain, but his waterproof jacket kept him dry.
When it was completely dark, he made his way to the rendezvous point. It was less than an hour’s distance.
The glow of a cigarette alerted him to his contact.
“Dmitry!” he whispered.
“Raymond!”
Dmitry threw his smoke and the two embraced.
They were cousins who had grown up together. Before volunteering to go professional in the army, both dreamt of being football stars. Dmitry was the club team captain with his charming smile and infectious ability to bring out the best in the players. Raymond on the other hand was the star goal scorer with his natural athleticism.
Being with Dmitry, Raymond felt his muscles slack. His connection to the rest of the world was returning.
“I saw everything,” Dmitry updated him. “You did so well. I sent the report and the commander said a medal is coming your way. You used the whole two belts didn’t you?”
“Yeah. Didn’t seem that much though.”
“No. Do you want to know what you hit?”
Raymond shrugged. He hadn’t thought about it, and in all honesty, didn’t care.
“A whole two platoons. Fully armed - they were doing a supply run. Only three walked out. Everything was filmed by our drone. This will be up on social media for the entire world to see soon. The commander said your photo will also be up.” Dmitry thumped his cousin on the back. “I also saw you take the bayrakter out with your launcher. And then you ran! You were that fast in our football team too.”
Raymond felt some unease. Dmitry hadn’t offered him food or anything to drink. He wanted to sit down. He hadn’t slept since the night before and exhaustion was kicking in bad. And the hunger…
“Ray - you have a new assignment.”
Raymond stumbled back a step. His mouth opened, but no words formed.
“Ray - the commander wants you in the assault unit. It is easy, you will have rank. And the secret is when you are charging, be in the middle of the group. Not at the back, where everyone wants to be. Our troops will be shooting at your feet there. Not at the front, like the heroes. You will be the first to be taken out. But in the middle. You are safest there. Ray?”
Something Dmitry didn’t say, nagged him. He was close to him like his brother. The furthest place from home, Dmitry was all he had. But Dmitry had betrayed him.
The command didn’t care that he had eliminated a large portion of the enemy and their equipment and that he was going to receive a medal. They needed numbers for the assault group. The worst place to be in the army. And they were picking anyone they could.
He knew his cousin’s thought process. Dmitry could weasel his way of any unpleasant task. His cousin had probably first been “volunteered” for the assault group but somehow managed to create a safer position for himself, by finding other volunteers. As long as Dmitry found people, he would be safe. And his cousin had picked Raymond.
His world crumbled. Once Raymond had briefly entertained the idea of surrendering to the enemy at the first opportunity, to escape the fine mess he was in. But the duty to his country was always more important. He couldn’t escape now. His deed and photo singled him out to be a target for the enemy.
His cousin’s betrayal hurt more though. Dmitry was the sort who could find a fault with others in an instant. But Dmitry himself was perfect. Like now. Dmitry had lit another cigarette. A basic military no-no. You do not smoke at night. The flame from the match, no matter how brief or small, the glow of the cigarette, all these could be seen from far away. By the enemy. A good sniper’s easy target.
Ray should have reprimanded him for this lack of discipline. He just didn’t care now.
Had things been different, in another place, another time, they would have been sitting together and laughing over vodka and beers. Talking all night about football, girls, and travel. For all his faults, Raymond never hated his cousin. He could never. They were family, best of friends.
“I’ll tape a big ‘Z’ on your back Ray,” Dmitry told him. “We are heading back. I don’t us to be shot by our side. It will be red tape of course.”
Raymond gasped and froze when Dmitry patted him on the back. Right now he didn’t even want to hear his cousin’s voice, much less feel his touch.
Sensing this, Dmitry's tone changed. It would, after Raymond had always been an open book. Instead of talking to him like friends and family, he spoke with the superior officers' command.
“Ray - I have to tell you something.”
And here was the bad news.
“Command is not pleased that you lost the radio. Think of your next assignment as redemption. You are not playing football now. You are in a grown-up situation.”