Warfare in the Modern Day
Gerardo Nieblas Valdez
It had only been a couple of weeks and the subsequent training that me and my team were required to go on our very first mission. Most of the people on my team weren’t really all that keen on dying for the ambitions of someone we’d never get meet, as most just wanted the other Insurgents to protect our families. After being brought over to the outpost on Malek and Ahad’s hometown, we only now just realized how bad this really got for everyone else involved; all families had to share a common location, since most homes were left in ruins. Our only hope was to drive the Americans out and finally letting our people rest – as futile as it truly was. We were only supposed to serve as a garrison force, but not long after our arrival, some scouts detected the enemy approaching; a cohort or two of armored trucks and cars. We bugged our commander about whether we should retreat, fight or hide; but after having the walls shoot out trails of clay and dirt, it appeared that they decided for us. We’ve been fighting for around 4 hours and there are barely any walls left to hide behind. I want take out the bullet lodged on my shoulder, yet it won’t do me any good; it hurts but at least it didn’t hit any of my important organs. We’re all out of medical equipment since the Yankees had cut off our only road and captured most of our stockpile, so I decide to rip a part of Alim’s shirt since he appears to not need it anymore – it was either that or for me to begin bleeding out. The wall I’m using as a defense is starting to crumble. I fall back with the others (and I mean my three remaining team members that are still – somehow– alive) to try and hold out until the reinforcements arrive. They stop shooting. We can hear the trucks and them running around but we don’t see any kind of attack coming. This terrifies us the most. We all start hearing a subtle buzzing, kind of like a fly or a mosquito. It’s a drone. They must have realized we let the civilians escape. We’re going to die. Malik tries to make a run for it. The rest of us stay behind. He drops dead from a sniper shot almost immediately after leaving the building. I wish I had stayed in my village. We bid our formal farewells to one and other, with nothing else to really do for our situation.
Gerardo Nieblas is a high school sophmore at New Mexico Military Institute. Though not the best at being creative, and writing isn't his strongsuit, he'll try his hardest to be and do those things. And even though he only attended NMMI for one year, he won't forget such a special Institute.