Aftermath

APRIL 27TH, 2009
EL GRAPADURA, PALACIOS
12:00 PM

Jim Tate was the first journalist to break the story. Watching Groggy's men make their final charge against the Russians and Cubans, he Tweeted: "America wins its first great land victory of the war! Biggest rout since Desert Storm!" Soon word was spreading all throughout America, then the world.

Groggy was in a state of feverish excitement. His men had won their first engagement as a regiment, and it was clear that what had started out as insubordination of an insubordination had turned into a grand, perhaps even decisive victory. The irony.

The bulk of his regiment was stationed around the blockhouse, where they had staged their triumphant final charge. The 2nd Battalion of the 7th Florida, heretofore unengaged, and Groggy's K Company, which had served as a regimental reserve, were guarding the mouth of the pass. They had been reinforced with a plethora of machine guns, mortars and field artillery in order to guard against any possible counterattack. American warplanes and helicopters roared overhead, without any Russian planes or missiles to challenge them.

Groggy's men - indeed, all of Jenkins' division - were to be kept in reserve for the time being. The regular division was being expected to push towards the Russian position at El Morro the next day, which was fine with Groggy; he knew the men of his command needed some time to recover from their 85 minutes of hell.

Bodies of his men, shredded by bullets and shrapnel, were being carted en masse towards the rear. There they fell into the hands of Lieutenant Jana, a handsome, statuesque nurse with dark auburn hair and a never-ending smile.

Groggy's men had suffered in the action. They recoiled from their first true taste of bloodshed, exhausted and dazed, like an animal emerging from a fight. The regiment had lost 27 killed and 79 wounded in its first major action. Total American casualties were 36 killed and 110 wounded.

Not all the men had enjoyed what they had done. Angel, the pacifist, threw up violently upon reaching the camp - she could hardly stand the bloodshed she had taken part in. Susie was distraught by the death of her boyfriend and her friend Charlie, whose deathmask was one of cherubic innocence. Elizabeth hurried to the hospital to comfort Matt, suffering from a painful shoulder wound.

There was little jubilation amongst the fighting men, but Groggy at least was ecstatic. It was the first time since his destruction of Sierra Charriba that he'd won a clear-cut victory. And he had no doubts that he would soon become a hero, his decisive success would eradicate the lack of authorization his plans had received. And yet, as he looked around the camp at his wounded and exhausted men, he felt a tinge of empathy. But mostly, he felt within him the stirrings of primitive fascism and militarism, a thrill and glory in combat and killing his fellow man. Perhaps it was because he wasn't suffering from any injury beyond a minor scratch to his head, from a bullet that had grazed him. But he could glory in his success; for the moment, most of his officers and men just seemed happy to be alive.

12:30 PM

At the hospital, Jana and her nurses were tending to the wounded as quickly as they could. Fortunately, most of the wounded were not that seriously hurt - but there were a few exceptions, like Private Steve, who had been struck in the chest and was already developing a painful condition of sepsis.

Jana tended to the injury of Captain Harriman, bleeding from two AK bullets which had crushed her left hand. She started wrapping a bandage around the dressed wound.

"It isn't a serious injury, Cap'," Jana said, a hint of Yorkie accent in her melodic voice. "Just a few bones out of place, shouldn't be too difficult to work around."

"That's good to hear," Harriman replied. "Groggy would kill me if I were laid up without both legs missing."

"How long have you known the Colonel?" Jana asked.

"Quite awhile," Harriman said.

"Did you hear they're talking about him for brigade commander?" Jana asked off-handedly.

"Oh?" Anna was surprised.

"Yeah, since General Jenkins got injured." Jana finished her wrapping and turned away, washing her hands.

Anna couldn't help as a smile spread across her face.

"Yeah, they said he was shot by some of his own troops," Jana continued.

"Well, that's good hearing," Anna muttered.

"Eh?" Jana expressed surprise, but didn't turn back towards the Captain.

"I don't trust anyone named Jenkins," Anna replied.

"Seems like a nice enough chap, your Colonel," Jana said, turning back to the Captain. She then smiled, and said, "Well, I've best attend some of the other lads," before departing.

* * *

"War is thus divine in itself, since it is a law of the world," quoted Miles Truelove, watching the flag-draped coffins of dead colleagues being carried towards a group of waiting helicopters. "War is divine in the mysterious glory that surrounds it and in the no less inexplicable attraction that draws us to it."

Ulysess Bunsher, watching with him, spit. "Hell, whoever said that ain't never seen a war."

"I think it's quite a profound statement, myself," Truelove mused. Then he added bitterly: "All too true." Truelove had been a die-hard pacifist, but he had found himself as excited and thrilled in the battle as anyone else, like an animal scenting blood. He'd never thought such feelings could overcome him - but he was only human.

Jim Tate, that damned reporter, was rushing through the camp interviewing the soldiers and their officers. He epitomized the idea of war as a game, a grand adventure, but then he only had to push a few buttons on his iPhone and haphazardly wave a pistol around. He didn't realize how stupid he looked in his actions. His colleague, Eric Glenn, remained the same stoic individual as before, typing away calmly and quietly, swigging rum, attended by a pair of balloon-breasted Palacian senioritas whom he mostly ignored.

Eventually, someone started playing their iPod shuffle, and strated cranking out banal and obnoxious Top 40 pop and hip-hop tunes. Many people rolled their eyes and complained about it, but it allowed them to relax, and soon the beleaguered men and women were dancing and singing off-key, trying to release their tension and anxiety. It had been a long day, and yet they knew the campaign was just beginning.