Per Cod

STANDOFF

Music playing low, the guys has a card game going; I’m playing solitaire on the ‘puter and trying to get the last words of the X-word puzzle right. Been quiet for a while, at least in our sector, and it looks like another boring night in the bunker.

It’s getting late, and I’m about ready to send the back watch to their bunks. “Finish your game, guys. Got another long day ahead of us tomorrow, you know”

As I turn the computer off I notice a glimmer on the screen. We’re hooked up to the power lines, and they’re less than dependable in this God forsaken country.

“Sarge, what’s diesel status?”

As he gets up to check the log, we feel it
A little tinkling of the coffee cups on the table at first, then the OP calls in:

“9, this is 4. 9, this is 4, over”
“4, this is nine”

Our primary OP is in a big tower overlooking the junction

“Someone’s taking a beating tonight, Sir”
“Stations?”

Everybody in the bunker is listening in, and I don’t have to tell them what to do. Before I turn to give the order they’re all in full gear and ready to take positions.

As we come outside we enter a different world. The mountain at the end of the plain looks like an erupting volcano and the sound is in full Dolby Surround…

They must be after something big, or someone important, because they are laying everything they’ve got on that mountain tonight. This clearly isn’t done to scare the civilians off.

I report to HQ, advise that we’re likely to see large numbers of refugees in the morning, and request extra water and medical staff. Not surprisingly, they tell me to hold the ground and that water will arrive on Tuesday. Medics needed at HQ

Confident the fire is directed elsewhere; I evacuate the tower and call the alarm off. With only double guards, I send the rest to rest. Nothing we can do tonight, and they’ll need their strength tomorrow.

The whole mountain seems on fire, and even though we’re some 50 kilometres from the base of it, the night is bright as day from the fire. The shelling goes on for hours, and soon we see the column stretching along the old dirt road. Carts pulled by horses, donkeys or cows, but mostly by men, women and children, tractors, bikes, cars and an old bus. Most walk on foot though, carrying what they could grab as they ran. They didn’t have much before, now they have nothing.

Soon they start passing our check point. Most don’t stop, knowing just how much help the Blue Knights really are. An elderly man asks us to collect the lost children. I have nowhere to keep them, no men to spare for the job “I hate this job”

“Doc! Open the bus, take in lost children; give them food and water.”

I go to radio it in, going to get in trouble for this.

From the tower we see two Russian made tanks make its way through the column, crushing people’s last belongings under their belts. XO reports sighting Armed Elements in the crowd
The situation just went from critical to explosive. No doubt who the tanks are after, we have to get them out of here right now or this will get very ugly.

I see the XO talking to a small group, explaining that the tanks are on their way and they have to leave. As I approach I get an eerie feeling, the hair on my arms stand up and I know something is wrong.

A young man in rags, long dirty hair and beard comes up to me and whispers a single word: “Jane” It’s our sister’s name!

“XO! Take up positions, facing incoming unfriendlies, the tanks”

Radio message to HQ: “Large flow of refugees, possible armed elements sighted in group, tanks approaching. Request immediate airborne support”

Reply: “Negative, support denied. Monitor situation, use own judgement. Do not engage, withdraw if necessary”

I guide the men to the back of the compound and nod in the direction of the white and blue APVs. As I go back, the tank commander has exited and demands to speak with me. Not surprisingly, he wants to search the premises for the armed elements. I tell him they’re not there and that he should pick a fight with someone else. I stand in front of two tanks with nothing to hide behind except a blue helmet and vest, a most unlikely and uneven standoff.

Suddenly I see red dots appearing on his chest, not from sniper sights, but from office supplies we received last week: the kind used by lecturers to point on a blackboard etc. Desperately trying to keep my calm and hoping my voice won’t break, I raise my voice and say: “You are in over your head, Captain. We’re not defenceless civilians or untrained militia, I have four 84mm cannons on your tanks right now, and if you look at your chest you’ll see that you won’t last long if you take me or any of my men out”

There must have been over twenty dots on him and the machine gunners on the tanks.

“Do you really want to create an international incident and die for nothing?”

Still trying to be tough and mean, but visibly shaken by the sudden turn of events and probably very scared by the red dots he tries to intimidate me once more, but eventually decides that he won’t get anywhere and turns back.

And that’s how I learned my brother was in the country