We Withdrew

It started with the Lieutenant. At least, that’s how it started for me. We were told we were leaving. “By tomorrow,” the Lieutenant said, “you’ll be home with your wives and children.” Then he winked. He walked out of the briefing room. 

My comrades and I turned to each other. Here we were, ready to descend upon our former territory. We had been drilling, digging, reconing, reporting. Now we’re supposed to just pack up and go home? Where is the glory?

But no one made any preparations to go. The Lieutenant stayed in his tent. Tanks were rolled onto and then off trains. The mess hall kept turning out soup. Guard duty remained. The snow continued falling. The sun set. Then rose again. We were still here.

I was posted as a sentry in our sector. I scanned the horizon with binoculars. NATO spotters could look like anything. Even a child, fetching water from the creek that divides us. Were the child to deliver intel on our position, betraying his country, what glory would that be? What drives the innocent to meddle in the actions of the damned? 

The Lieutenant came to my post. He slapped me on the back. “We’ll all be home soon enough,” he said. He winked again. He raised his binoculars to his eyes. A smile broke across his face, revealing several gold teeth. “Soon enough,” he repeated. “Soon enough.”