Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Mind of the Soldier ❯ Lost ( Chapter 13 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Body





Ivdel, Day 3: Lost

Norman sat outside the school at the small table, smoking a cigarette. He did not usually smoke, but his nerves were racked. The battle from the day before was devastating for the regiment. From what he knew two from his squad were wounded. Lance Armstrong and Lindsay Johnston. Somehow she had bought it. To his knowledge, they were both still alive. There were at least four platoons left for now, Norman thought.

Norman took a puff from his cigarette and turned his head towards the men working. The were digging shallow holes to serve as graves until the bodies could be shipped back to their homes. The soldiers were putting the deceased's rifle in the ground and their helmet and dog tags on top of it. Norman had once heard the phrase "The dead only know one thing: that it is better to be alive.". Norman believed that, if the could even think. But suppose they went to heaven? Then their suffering down in this shithole is over, and they are truly in a better place. Life was full of funny philosophies.

Norman threw his cigarette away and walked toward the working soldiers. Norman saw Brooks there, the expression on his face grim.

"How many casualties?" Norman asked him. Brooks remained silent for a moment and then sighed.

"Sixteen. Nine dead, seven wounded."

"Oh shit." Norman sighed.

"But Tom, that was the statistic yesterday. Now it's eleven dead. Armstrong and Johnston died early this morning. The were wounded pretty damn bad." Inside Norman felt a pang of sorrow for them. They were young, they did not need this. Norman remained silent. Brooks saw him and put his hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, the world is a fuckin' harsh place."

"That leaves the five of us from our squad. Hell, I don't think it's worth it."

"What?"

"This whole mess of shit we're in. To kill this one guy."

"Well Tom, if we're not here you know it's just a matter of time before they ship us somewhere us. Hell, it could be worse." Norman had nodded at this. That was true, there was no point giving it up now. Especially when it would just continue.

"You think these goddamn UCO scumbags are gonna give up? Shit... They never will."

"It's our job of course to put them in their place."

"Of course, it always will be. A few years from now there's probably gonna be a bunch of fucking stoned teenagers calling themselves 'Heero Yuy' and trying to kill us." Brooks said, raising his arms and then letting them drop. Norman smiled a bit. It was funny in a way.

"And of course, Norman, we'll be the soldiers to put them in their place. And if their place is six feet under then that's what we gotta do." Brooks ended. He paused for a moment.

"So, what do we do now, Captain?" Brooks asked.

"I'm trying to figure that out myself. Yesterday Curtis wasn't expecting that. It was Darlian."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I mean Richard Darlian, that night at the ball is Moscow. He threatened me that he knew about the 'inside' of Oz."

"You believe him?"

"Well, we were ambushed."

"If it's true, we're in deep shit." There was a pause between them. "Well, Tom, Now that Curtis is dead, you're calling the shots." Brooks then walked away.

Yes, calling the shots. That is what Norman had to do now. They were lost up here under orders with no way out until the mission was completed. It was the way it worked. They were all stuck with it. Lost. Norman walked over to the graves that were dug, the dirt slightly elevated on top of them. He glanced down and saw resting place of a person. Then he heard the voice in his head:

"When did we lose, the innocence..." Norman shook his head and the voice stopped. He saw the soldiers gathering around the area with the eleven holes in the earth. Some of the soldiers gathered around, other stayed back and watched. Norman could not see Mars anywhere. It was time to pay the final respects. A young man stepped in front of the large semicircle of people. Norman had learned this man's name was Sam Mundy, he was going to be a priest before he joined Oz. He was the best thing they had to perform a decent funeral service. People usually just called him "father".

Father stepped up to the front with a small book. Norman saw that it was a Bible. Father Mundy cleared his throat and spoke:

"Well, today I-I've made a um, short prayer to say for the-the departed." Norman could tell by the way he spoke that he was nervous. Father Mundy began the prayer.

"These people before us have died. Their souls have um, departed to heaven where they now sit on the right hand of the father. It is them who died to keep all of us alive today. They-they uh, die for reason? It's hard to tell. We all come to the end of our journey one day, whether-whether it comes in the middle of war, or in the middle of peace time. The hopes we can hold for these soldiers is that they will be granted eternal life and peace for their sufferings on Earth. Now we pray for them."

Father continued on with the Lord's prayer, and then did a final blessing for the deceased. All of the soldiers disbanded quietly but Norman remained. It was already evening by the time. Norman made the sign of the cross then walked back toward the school. He was calling the shots now. Norman thought they would take the defensive approach now. Just wait for the UCO to come to them. He thought it may work better.

The school was quite an equipped place. They turned the Gymnasium into a mess hall. barracks. The plumbing in the washrooms still was operational. The school's kitchen was expanded into a larger one. Norman admired the excellent job that Oz did salvaging this place. Norman walked into one of the classrooms used as a barracks. The room was lined with small cots. Soldiers set up boxes to use as tables. In the corner was a table used for playing cards. Brooks was not there. Norman moved on to the next one with a similar setup and saw Brooks, sitting alone. Norman walked up and sat on the adjacent bed. Brooks looked up and met his eyes.

"There's been an illegal killing." Norman said softly. Brooks raised his eyebrows and looked puzzled.

"What?"

"Yesterday Roger Kent shot a surrendering prisoner and killed him. Rodriguez saw it all."

"Are you shitting me?"

"No, I'm not shitting you." Brooks sighed. "I knew it. That crazy son-of-a-bitch was bound to do something like that."

"Tell me about it."

"So what are you going to do about it?" Norman shook his head and thought.

"I don't know. To tell you the truth, Kent scares me."

"You're a Captain though. You can report him and have him court martialed."

"I want to. But I don't want to wait that long."

"Are you thinking of a field court martial?"

"Yes." Norman paused and frowned.

"You know, Tom, he might have some friends."

"I know, but we have to do this, tomorrow. He's dangerous."

"Where are we going to put him until they can get a chopper up here?"

"We'll see if we can lock him up in one of the rooms and put a guard on him." Norman studied Brooks face, it looked severe.

"I'll go for it if you want to. Tomorrow?"

"Yeah, tomorrow we'll place him under arrest." Both Norman and Brooks sat there in silence contemplating.

"Why don't you use that bed tonight?" Brooks said to Norman. "I was saving it for you since we got here, you went off to some other room though."

"Thanks, I think I will. The bed that I was using is broken I think." Norman fell back on the cot and groaned.

"I'll have to get my pack from my other room sometime."

"You look tired, get some rest." Brooks said. That was true. Norman did not think he needed to command anyone right now. He closed his eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep.