Omis
my friends were skinny
Sup you gaiz. Just another story I started to write, hated, deleted, and ultimately decided to share. Its not finished. Feel free to do as you will with this. Its pretty bad I must warn you.
“We will win this battle, and we will do it with pride!” Gold Ring barks out of his bullhorn. Sweat drips off the faces of young determined men. Guns rise into the air and glimmer in the sun as celebratory cries usher throughout the crowd. The bags under these men's eyes tell a story of many hardships. However, they will never give up. You don't let down a man like Gold Ring. His will and optimism travels throughout your body whenever he gives a speech. Top Hat, along with his brothers in arms, are now ready for anything. Some of the men stayed around to engage in more cheering, but Top Hat decided to leave to take a drag on his cigarette in the open. Or, to be more accurate, a sand blast to the face. Afghanistan is a brutal place. A simple trek through the desert can be a deadly experience as yesterday showed. The men were scavenging through the desert when Black-Glove was bitten by a snake. His cries of agony rang throughout the land. Top Hat gave a small prayer for Black-glove. They were short on supplies and on a deadline. It would have set them back too much to properly care for Black Glove; Black Glove now lay under a thin layer of sand in an unmarked grave.
They had to make it to the city as quick as possible. They could not make another mistake like the one they did last time. Everything just fell apart at the last minute. Bullets came down on the Black Outfit from every direction. Bronze Buckle got scared when a hot round struck him in the gut. He couldn’t keep his cool and started to scream which gave away the Black Outfit’s position. Top Hat passed his hand over the white scar on his chest where he had been hit with a round. He took a long drag on his cigarette to cool him down. It has been a year since that terrible day. He remembered walking out of the city painted red with the blood of his comrades. Memories of attack and having to leave Bronze Buckle to die haunted him for weeks. Top Hat was older and more mature now. He had acted like a coward but it had allowed him to get his life into perspective. With the gun-crazy enemies in the city, he always had to be aware. One last puff was exhaled before the cigarette was kicked to the sand.
Top Hat walked back to the makeshift tent he shared with Ebony Cane. Ebony Cane rarely, if ever, spoke. He was a smooth, hardened warrior before the fight in the city. The incident shook him down to the core. Out of all the members of the Black Outfit, Ebony Cane was closest to Bronze Buckle. They all knew that Ebony Cane secretly shouldered all the blame from the incident. None of them knew why he did it though. After a while, they just assumed it was his way with coping with losing his close comrade Bronze Buckle. For a month afterword, Ebony Cane spoke only when it was imperative. Eventually he just stopped speaking altogether. Most of the Black Outfit found this behavior irritating but Top Hat found it comforting. He could pour out his deepest feeling to him without fear of it being repeated. Weakness was not tolerated in the Black Outfit. They were a stoic, serious group. After all, war is not a pleasant thing. Brutality was seen almost every day and it showed in their demeanor. All of the men were wired, tense, and accustomed to life's atrocities. Their camp was not a place to crack jokes.
Ebony Cane tossed a biscuit in Top Hat’s direction. Gold Ring had denied Top Hat his MRE for squandering ammunition so Top Hat was ravenous. As he quaffed the biscuit, Top Hat gently eased into his cot. The old wood moaned and protested but eventually it gave in to his bulk. The soothing sound of shifting sand lulled both the men into a deep sleep. None of the men snored or stirred in their sleep. To make noises was to give away thy position, doing that meant giving up what little peace and safety the cloak of night may provide.
Instantaneously, the camp sprung out of their cots at 5:00. None of them were groggy; rigorous training allowed them to be alert at all times. In perfect synchronization, the two man groups dissembled their makeshift camps and made their way over to Gold Ring’s station. Gold Ring was the only soldier to have his own lodgings; after all, a leader needs peace of mind to formulate their daily routine.
“Today is the penultimate day of our journey. In a short three days, we will be seizing the city from their grasp. Our supplies are a little short and I have decided to cut back rations today.” Gold Ring said.
“But, Sir,” Silk Pants protested, “We barely eat enough as it is!”
“Do I smell mutiny brewing?” Gold Ring questioned mockingly.
“No, Sir,” Silk Pants nervously mumbled. The rest of the squad snickered at how squeamish Silk Pants was.
“Well in that case, stop whining. Please address the rest of your questions to the barrel of my Baretta.” When Gold Ring says something like that, you know he is serious and you had better watch your back.
No one uttered another word after the spat between Silk Pants and Gold Ring. The majority of the camp was much to nervous thinking about the upcoming assault on the city. While they had been preparing themselves mentally and physically for the past year, the Black Outfit knew some degree of failure was inevitable. Never had such an attack on such a well-fortified city been executed without a problem occurring. The Black Outfit expected to be missing at least one clothing article of their getup by the end of the attack. They could only prey that it would not be any more than that.
The horrifying realities of the war had caused these men to become the quasi-renegade soldiers that they were. Battalions were outdated. The media had brain washed many of the locals into believing the other side had righteousness in mind. Because of this, with a simple mention of eminent danger, legions of men could be rallied into attacking. This sheer numbers advantage eliminated the pros of regulated battalions. With people attacking from all angles, organization fails and chaos ensues. Thusly, the enemies rogue warfare tactics were replicated and honed to perfection. Instead of charging headstrong into the fight, divide and conquer became the standard. As the saying goes, fight fire with fire; fight large numbers with the illusion of having large numbers. And so the Black Outfit was commissioned. They were the only operational unit like this in the war; all the others were still training how to best employ tactics. So far, the Black Outfit had been regarded as a failure due to what had occurred in a year prior. This new assault was the only chance they had to redeem themselves and restore glory to their ideals.
With eminent bloodshed on their minds, the Black Outfit attempted preparation. They oiled their guns, prepared their town clothes that they planned to invade in, and prepared themselves physically. Preparation was joke though. How do you prepare yourself for the horror encountered in a warzone? Seeing someone alive and well for an instance then seeing their head ripped to shreds isn’t something you should ever experience. Nothing can make you ready for that. You can pretend for hours that you are mentally rugged and that nothing fazes you. It is a lie though. All soldiers crack, regardless of whether people notice or not. If they survive, these men will return fogged over. They will have a glaze in their eyes and won’t ever be the same. Most of the men only pray that their friend isn’t a casualty; they have been “trained” not to care about themselves.
“This is the end isn’t it?” Ebony Cane said. Top Hat was shocked enough to hear Ebony Cane utter anything much less something deep and profound; he just assumed Ebony Cane abandoned thoughts that went past a comfortable zone.
“What makes you think that, Ebony Cane? I say we have a rather sporting chance of winning over the city. Afterall, we have been working on this for months. We have detailed sketches of the city and all that good jazz. What more could you ask for?” Top Hat said.
Ebony Cane let out a sarcastic snort. “I could ask that we never had been given these despicable tasks. I want to end it all and not feel anymore. I want to join my family in bliss.” Ebony Cane subtlety wiped a tear away from his face; no one even knew he had a family.
“I'm not sure what you mean by ‘join my family’ but I don’t like it. Whether we like it or not, this is the life set out for us. Your anger is misguided. The real enemies are sitting complacent in that city. We are merely liberators, people to restore our people’s former glory. Channel your anger about this situation into the heat of battle. Make every bullet you fire infused with the agony you have experience; have every thought dominated with revenge. We need to capture the city for our people; this has been bestowed upon us.”
“Why?”
“Because that is how God intended for it to be”
“Don’t bring up God. He plays no part in this. Id rather believe that I'm out here on my own accord than to pretend that some many is up there in the shadows having a jolly time as puppet master. I am my own man; no one controls me. If I wanted to, I could betray all of you to the enemy, I would be welcomed as a hero and bestowed great accolades…..”
“Don’t speak such nonsense! I can entertain your fantasies about the futility of this conflict but you have gone too far.” Top Hat yelled. Was this what goes on in the mind of Ebony Cane?
“….but it wouldn’t be worth it. Both sides shall fight to the end; it is the nature of men. As long as there are three people on this Earth two will find reason to hate each other. They shall both attempt to sway over the third man into helping them in their quest to harm. The third man will oblige in time only to see they hate stop. But then, when one of the men is gone and it is only the other and the third man, the other man will begin to hate the third man. The third man will only hate himself however. He will hate what he has become, for he had wished not to hate. And so the third man will become enveloped in a cloud of rage and despair all pointed at himself. And then he will snap and it will be too much for him to handle. The Black Outfit is the third man; we are merely pawns in a game ruled by much larger men. I have had enough. I have snapped, Top Hat. You shall snap with time. And so it is my time to pass judgment upon myself.”
“J-j-j-just what do you plan to do?” Top Hat could hardly believe what was going on much less how to rationalize things and make them better.
“What do I plan to do? It is more of a matter of what I don’t plan to do. I think I shall give up in the city. I no longer want a part in this.”
“So you just plan to die there? What about your comrades, the men you have been with for almost two years now.”
“I regret you haven’t seen the light like I have. It cant be forced upon someone; rather it must be obtained. I hope I can pass on some hope to you today, the hope that you will snap and see life for what it is. And for your information I don’t plan to die, I shall be the only one to survive.”
“Are you implying something? I don’t want to believe that you are going to double cross us but I wouldn’t doubt it after the insanity you’ve been spouting. I'm prepared to take you down should the need come up. I'm not afraid of you.” Top Hat’s handle slowly crept to his pocket where I blade was hidden. It was a short Spetnatz throwing blade, the kind used to catch someone off guard. Top Hat hoped deep in his heart that he wasnt going to need to arc his wrist and let the spinning metal death fly and silence his friend eternally.
“No I am not. I'm not sure what I want to do with the rest of my life. Breaking has changed my perspective. I fully recognized that this is a suicidal mission and that is wont succeed. I was content with that before though, I was happy to do my part. I may decide death is my path and I shall embark on it. But I'm not sure yet. So I am choosing to live. I shall fight in the beginning of the fight but when it gets most intense I shall bid you my farewell and leave. A relative of mine lives in the city. I hope that he can welcome me warmly despite the bloodstains on my body and soul. Please don’t hate me for my choice, Top Hat. I don’t mean any disrespect to you. You have obviously dedicated yourself more thoroughly to this pursuit than I have. You are ready for whatever comes; I'm still a snot-nosed brat in essence. I'm not ready for life.”
“No one is.” On that note Top Hat slipped out of the tent to escape into the comforting brutality of the dessert. The climate was stable here; you knew what to expect. Top Hat had thought the same of Ebony Cane. He had seemed a stable rock. He only just realized that he was really a pebble about to be swept away in the rushing torrent of life. Top Hat reconciled in the fact that Ebony Cane was misguided. The death of Bronze Buckle had shaken him even deeper than Top Hat had expected. Heck, Ebony Cane probably didn’t even believe the words he was saying. Odds were that we has just nervous about the upcoming assault. As his hand reached into his pocket to retrieve his old friend (imagery for a cigarette), Top Hat reassured himself in his new sense of security regarding what had occurred. Ebony Cane didn’t really believe what he said. He was just nervous and spouting out nonsense. He couldn’t be correct about this. Right?
Spilled in the Sand
“We will win this battle, and we will do it with pride!” Gold Ring barks out of his bullhorn. Sweat drips off the faces of young determined men. Guns rise into the air and glimmer in the sun as celebratory cries usher throughout the crowd. The bags under these men's eyes tell a story of many hardships. However, they will never give up. You don't let down a man like Gold Ring. His will and optimism travels throughout your body whenever he gives a speech. Top Hat, along with his brothers in arms, are now ready for anything. Some of the men stayed around to engage in more cheering, but Top Hat decided to leave to take a drag on his cigarette in the open. Or, to be more accurate, a sand blast to the face. Afghanistan is a brutal place. A simple trek through the desert can be a deadly experience as yesterday showed. The men were scavenging through the desert when Black-Glove was bitten by a snake. His cries of agony rang throughout the land. Top Hat gave a small prayer for Black-glove. They were short on supplies and on a deadline. It would have set them back too much to properly care for Black Glove; Black Glove now lay under a thin layer of sand in an unmarked grave.
They had to make it to the city as quick as possible. They could not make another mistake like the one they did last time. Everything just fell apart at the last minute. Bullets came down on the Black Outfit from every direction. Bronze Buckle got scared when a hot round struck him in the gut. He couldn’t keep his cool and started to scream which gave away the Black Outfit’s position. Top Hat passed his hand over the white scar on his chest where he had been hit with a round. He took a long drag on his cigarette to cool him down. It has been a year since that terrible day. He remembered walking out of the city painted red with the blood of his comrades. Memories of attack and having to leave Bronze Buckle to die haunted him for weeks. Top Hat was older and more mature now. He had acted like a coward but it had allowed him to get his life into perspective. With the gun-crazy enemies in the city, he always had to be aware. One last puff was exhaled before the cigarette was kicked to the sand.
Top Hat walked back to the makeshift tent he shared with Ebony Cane. Ebony Cane rarely, if ever, spoke. He was a smooth, hardened warrior before the fight in the city. The incident shook him down to the core. Out of all the members of the Black Outfit, Ebony Cane was closest to Bronze Buckle. They all knew that Ebony Cane secretly shouldered all the blame from the incident. None of them knew why he did it though. After a while, they just assumed it was his way with coping with losing his close comrade Bronze Buckle. For a month afterword, Ebony Cane spoke only when it was imperative. Eventually he just stopped speaking altogether. Most of the Black Outfit found this behavior irritating but Top Hat found it comforting. He could pour out his deepest feeling to him without fear of it being repeated. Weakness was not tolerated in the Black Outfit. They were a stoic, serious group. After all, war is not a pleasant thing. Brutality was seen almost every day and it showed in their demeanor. All of the men were wired, tense, and accustomed to life's atrocities. Their camp was not a place to crack jokes.
Ebony Cane tossed a biscuit in Top Hat’s direction. Gold Ring had denied Top Hat his MRE for squandering ammunition so Top Hat was ravenous. As he quaffed the biscuit, Top Hat gently eased into his cot. The old wood moaned and protested but eventually it gave in to his bulk. The soothing sound of shifting sand lulled both the men into a deep sleep. None of the men snored or stirred in their sleep. To make noises was to give away thy position, doing that meant giving up what little peace and safety the cloak of night may provide.
Instantaneously, the camp sprung out of their cots at 5:00. None of them were groggy; rigorous training allowed them to be alert at all times. In perfect synchronization, the two man groups dissembled their makeshift camps and made their way over to Gold Ring’s station. Gold Ring was the only soldier to have his own lodgings; after all, a leader needs peace of mind to formulate their daily routine.
“Today is the penultimate day of our journey. In a short three days, we will be seizing the city from their grasp. Our supplies are a little short and I have decided to cut back rations today.” Gold Ring said.
“But, Sir,” Silk Pants protested, “We barely eat enough as it is!”
“Do I smell mutiny brewing?” Gold Ring questioned mockingly.
“No, Sir,” Silk Pants nervously mumbled. The rest of the squad snickered at how squeamish Silk Pants was.
“Well in that case, stop whining. Please address the rest of your questions to the barrel of my Baretta.” When Gold Ring says something like that, you know he is serious and you had better watch your back.
No one uttered another word after the spat between Silk Pants and Gold Ring. The majority of the camp was much to nervous thinking about the upcoming assault on the city. While they had been preparing themselves mentally and physically for the past year, the Black Outfit knew some degree of failure was inevitable. Never had such an attack on such a well-fortified city been executed without a problem occurring. The Black Outfit expected to be missing at least one clothing article of their getup by the end of the attack. They could only prey that it would not be any more than that.
The horrifying realities of the war had caused these men to become the quasi-renegade soldiers that they were. Battalions were outdated. The media had brain washed many of the locals into believing the other side had righteousness in mind. Because of this, with a simple mention of eminent danger, legions of men could be rallied into attacking. This sheer numbers advantage eliminated the pros of regulated battalions. With people attacking from all angles, organization fails and chaos ensues. Thusly, the enemies rogue warfare tactics were replicated and honed to perfection. Instead of charging headstrong into the fight, divide and conquer became the standard. As the saying goes, fight fire with fire; fight large numbers with the illusion of having large numbers. And so the Black Outfit was commissioned. They were the only operational unit like this in the war; all the others were still training how to best employ tactics. So far, the Black Outfit had been regarded as a failure due to what had occurred in a year prior. This new assault was the only chance they had to redeem themselves and restore glory to their ideals.
With eminent bloodshed on their minds, the Black Outfit attempted preparation. They oiled their guns, prepared their town clothes that they planned to invade in, and prepared themselves physically. Preparation was joke though. How do you prepare yourself for the horror encountered in a warzone? Seeing someone alive and well for an instance then seeing their head ripped to shreds isn’t something you should ever experience. Nothing can make you ready for that. You can pretend for hours that you are mentally rugged and that nothing fazes you. It is a lie though. All soldiers crack, regardless of whether people notice or not. If they survive, these men will return fogged over. They will have a glaze in their eyes and won’t ever be the same. Most of the men only pray that their friend isn’t a casualty; they have been “trained” not to care about themselves.
“This is the end isn’t it?” Ebony Cane said. Top Hat was shocked enough to hear Ebony Cane utter anything much less something deep and profound; he just assumed Ebony Cane abandoned thoughts that went past a comfortable zone.
“What makes you think that, Ebony Cane? I say we have a rather sporting chance of winning over the city. Afterall, we have been working on this for months. We have detailed sketches of the city and all that good jazz. What more could you ask for?” Top Hat said.
Ebony Cane let out a sarcastic snort. “I could ask that we never had been given these despicable tasks. I want to end it all and not feel anymore. I want to join my family in bliss.” Ebony Cane subtlety wiped a tear away from his face; no one even knew he had a family.
“I'm not sure what you mean by ‘join my family’ but I don’t like it. Whether we like it or not, this is the life set out for us. Your anger is misguided. The real enemies are sitting complacent in that city. We are merely liberators, people to restore our people’s former glory. Channel your anger about this situation into the heat of battle. Make every bullet you fire infused with the agony you have experience; have every thought dominated with revenge. We need to capture the city for our people; this has been bestowed upon us.”
“Why?”
“Because that is how God intended for it to be”
“Don’t bring up God. He plays no part in this. Id rather believe that I'm out here on my own accord than to pretend that some many is up there in the shadows having a jolly time as puppet master. I am my own man; no one controls me. If I wanted to, I could betray all of you to the enemy, I would be welcomed as a hero and bestowed great accolades…..”
“Don’t speak such nonsense! I can entertain your fantasies about the futility of this conflict but you have gone too far.” Top Hat yelled. Was this what goes on in the mind of Ebony Cane?
“….but it wouldn’t be worth it. Both sides shall fight to the end; it is the nature of men. As long as there are three people on this Earth two will find reason to hate each other. They shall both attempt to sway over the third man into helping them in their quest to harm. The third man will oblige in time only to see they hate stop. But then, when one of the men is gone and it is only the other and the third man, the other man will begin to hate the third man. The third man will only hate himself however. He will hate what he has become, for he had wished not to hate. And so the third man will become enveloped in a cloud of rage and despair all pointed at himself. And then he will snap and it will be too much for him to handle. The Black Outfit is the third man; we are merely pawns in a game ruled by much larger men. I have had enough. I have snapped, Top Hat. You shall snap with time. And so it is my time to pass judgment upon myself.”
“J-j-j-just what do you plan to do?” Top Hat could hardly believe what was going on much less how to rationalize things and make them better.
“What do I plan to do? It is more of a matter of what I don’t plan to do. I think I shall give up in the city. I no longer want a part in this.”
“So you just plan to die there? What about your comrades, the men you have been with for almost two years now.”
“I regret you haven’t seen the light like I have. It cant be forced upon someone; rather it must be obtained. I hope I can pass on some hope to you today, the hope that you will snap and see life for what it is. And for your information I don’t plan to die, I shall be the only one to survive.”
“Are you implying something? I don’t want to believe that you are going to double cross us but I wouldn’t doubt it after the insanity you’ve been spouting. I'm prepared to take you down should the need come up. I'm not afraid of you.” Top Hat’s handle slowly crept to his pocket where I blade was hidden. It was a short Spetnatz throwing blade, the kind used to catch someone off guard. Top Hat hoped deep in his heart that he wasnt going to need to arc his wrist and let the spinning metal death fly and silence his friend eternally.
“No I am not. I'm not sure what I want to do with the rest of my life. Breaking has changed my perspective. I fully recognized that this is a suicidal mission and that is wont succeed. I was content with that before though, I was happy to do my part. I may decide death is my path and I shall embark on it. But I'm not sure yet. So I am choosing to live. I shall fight in the beginning of the fight but when it gets most intense I shall bid you my farewell and leave. A relative of mine lives in the city. I hope that he can welcome me warmly despite the bloodstains on my body and soul. Please don’t hate me for my choice, Top Hat. I don’t mean any disrespect to you. You have obviously dedicated yourself more thoroughly to this pursuit than I have. You are ready for whatever comes; I'm still a snot-nosed brat in essence. I'm not ready for life.”
“No one is.” On that note Top Hat slipped out of the tent to escape into the comforting brutality of the dessert. The climate was stable here; you knew what to expect. Top Hat had thought the same of Ebony Cane. He had seemed a stable rock. He only just realized that he was really a pebble about to be swept away in the rushing torrent of life. Top Hat reconciled in the fact that Ebony Cane was misguided. The death of Bronze Buckle had shaken him even deeper than Top Hat had expected. Heck, Ebony Cane probably didn’t even believe the words he was saying. Odds were that we has just nervous about the upcoming assault. As his hand reached into his pocket to retrieve his old friend (imagery for a cigarette), Top Hat reassured himself in his new sense of security regarding what had occurred. Ebony Cane didn’t really believe what he said. He was just nervous and spouting out nonsense. He couldn’t be correct about this. Right?
