I walked toward the train, the rest of my troop somewhere in the crowd of soldiers on the boarding platform. When I reached the edge of the platform, I stopped. I turned around, scanning the crowd for a familiar face. And luck was with me. I spotted one of the soldiers from my troop, Troop A, and waved to him. After a few moments, he saw me and came over, pushing through a small group of chatting soldiers that I thought were from Troop C. As he got closer, I could see his face. His name was Jack Yalima, but he told us to call him Jay, and it was more of an order than a request. I figured that he had been teased for his last name in school, and that’s why he went by Jay. Jay was young, probably about 21 years old, and somehow got the troop leader to let him grow a short, trim beard. He had blue eyes and blondish hair. I was pretty sure he had joined the army when he was in the middle of college. Which reminded me of a question I had been wanting to ask him. “Hey Mark! I’m glad to see I’m not the only Troop A soldier here.” Jay said. “So, what’s up?” “Not much, Jay. Just thinking about this big mission we are about to embark on.” I said. “Just like all the other soldiers here are.” “I guess that makes sense.” Jay said. “Did you bring the snacks?” “Yes. But let’s wait until we really need them.” I replied. “Oh, sorry to change the topic, but I have been meaning to ask you a question.” “Ask away.” Said Jay, obviously wondering what I would ask him. “But you'll have to speak up so I can hear you better.” “Good point” I said, raising my voice a bit. Jay was right- the crowd was very loud, with every soldier no doubt chatting with his friends. “Well, I have always wondered why you joined the army. And I haven’t really gotten around to asking you until now.” “Oh, well you see,” he said, clearly a bit taken aback by the question. “I figured that I could probably do more good protecting my country then I could bored to my wit’s end at college.” “Hmm.” I said. “Okay.”. Jay looked like he was going to say more, but as he opened his mouth, the train arrived, slowing to a stop in a position where you could not access the front of the train from the boarding platform, but you could easily get into the cars. “Well, that wasn’t quite what I was expecting.” Said Jay. “What about you? Were you expecting this?” “Actually, I was.” I replied, looking at the train. “It is a very convenient train for the military, and has added bonuses, like, for example, the fact that nobody expects a freight train to carry the military.”. The train was indeed a freight train, with rusty metal cargo cars, and a more well kept cargo car at the very back, no doubt for the troop leaders. Me and Jay were stepping towards a car, when one of the soldiers inside stepped into the open door. “Sorry, this is full. Go find another car.” Said the soldier. “How do we know which one isn’t full?” I said. “I mean, quickly.” “Find a car with a closed door.” He said. “Hurry.”. Me and Jay walked along the cars and saw that none of them had closed doors. “Do you think he was pranking us?” Asked Jay. “Because it certainly looks like he did.” “I don’t know.” I replied. “But would he? I mean, that would have quite the penalty if we ended up stuck here because of that.”. Ya, if they for some reason had a shortage of soldiers. Once we die, we are replaced. So why not early? Suddenly, the train started pulling away. “What the-” I said, surprised. “Hey!” “Stop t-”. Jay said, before being interrupted by the train stopping. The train had only moved forward enough to give the remaining soldiers access to the cargo boxes farther towards the end of the train. “Huh, I thought those were for actual cargo” Jay said. “Who says it isn’t?” I replied. Jay frowned as he realized the truth in what I said. In times of war, do war tacticians really plan out, in full, shining, perfect detail, how the soldiers will ride a train? Jay and I walked up to a car, slid open the door, and climbed inside. I had just closed the door again, when a medic opened it and climbed in. “Close the door behind you, and don’t forget to wipe your boots on the doormat.” Said Jay sarcastically. “Welcome to your new home.” “Sadly, this really is our new home for a few days.” Said the medic, pointing towards the back of the car. “Those slightly cushioned benches are our beds.”. I looked where he pointed, and sure enough, there were four, slightly cushioned benches. “Oh, I thought those were just the luxury couches for the people in the back of the line to the front line.” I said sarcastically. “Glad to see I will be staying with optimists.” Said the medic, smiling. “I guess we should introduce ourselves, right?” “Good idea.” Said Jay. “Let’s start with you. Me and you’ll-know-his-name-soon already know each other.” “Well that simplifies this a bit.” Said the medic. “My name is Johnny. Johnny Marx. But you can call me John.” “Nice to meet you, John.” I said. “My name is Mark.” “Got a last name?” Asked John. “Yes.” I said. “Flan.” “And what’s your name?” Asked John, shifting his gaze to Jay. “I go by Jay.” said Jay. “And that’s an order, not a request.” I added. The train whistle sounded twice, and they sat down, each on a different bunk.
Perhaps it was the cold, or maybe how uncomfortable the bed was, that woke me up. Probably both. I was a bit hungry, so I figured I might as well look through the crates at the front of the car and see if I could find some food. Maybe even a book. I had tried to bring a book with me, but they made me bring a pistol and holster instead of the fanny pack I use to carry a book on missions. And to make things worse, I was not allowed to take off the holster, nor am I allowed to store the gun anywhere other than the holster. So I had to sleep on my stomach or left side to get any sleep. I pulled the top off one of the crates, and looked in. Inside were pieces of what looked like a heavy, mounted machine gun, similar to a gattling gun. Why would they need that unlocked for the trip? There was only one stop, and that was the final destination. Well, it was interesting, but it wasn’t what I wanted. I put the top back on. My eyes were starting to adjust to the darkness, and I could barely make out some kind of image on the crate top. I looked closer and saw that it was a label. I couldn’t tell for sure, but I was pretty sure it was labeled ‘Spare Nametag Protectors”. The one thing no soldier would really want or need to open, but makes sense to be there. Suspicious. After a bit of searching, I saw the food container. It was on a kind of shelf at the top of the front wall of the car. Out of reach. Theories were already forming in my head, but I decided to push them aside. Maybe the medic brought a book. After all, medics don’t have to carry as many guna and as much ammo as a normal soldier did. All a medic had to carry was a semi-auto handgun and their medical supplies. So I wouldn’t be surprised if John had brought a book. I walked over to the medic, and located his medic bag. After a moment of rifling through medical suplies, I fished out a book. I also managed to cut my hand in the process. How ironic. It was a clean, and small, cut. Nothing to waste bandages on. I would just ignore it and hope that I don’t get blood on the book. Finally something to do when there is nobody to talk to. What a relief. As I laid back down on the bed, if you want to call it that, and started to read. It reminded me of when I was a young kid. Ever since I was a little kid, I would, if I couldn’t sleep, grab a book and read it in the dark, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness, and minutes later I would fall asleep. I smiled. I opened one of my eyes slightly, before the weight of my eyelid forced it closed. There was a vague voice. “Go away.” I muttered groggily. Somebody was shaking me, and a bit violently. The vague voice stopped for a bit. I thought I could hear two people talking. “THE BRITISH ARE COMING THE BRITISH ARE COMING! GRAB YOUR GUNS AND FIRE BACK!!” Somebody yelled. I shot up into a sitting position, my eyes wide open and my gun in my hand. John was eyeing Jay, who was smiling. “See, look at that, John. It always works.” Said Jay. “When Mark has to wake up early, you either have to pull him out of bed and punch him in the gut, or yell like we are under attack.” “Alright, Jay, you proved me wrong.” John said, sounding a bit tired. “But don’t go thinking I am going to give you my five dollars. That was just a joke.”. By then, I had my gun back in it’s holster and was instead brandishing an annoyed frown. “Did you have to wake me like that? What if I shot one of you by accident?!” I exclaimed. “This better be important.” “It is, and even if you don’t think it is, you will still like it.” Said John. “Oh, and Jay, I found that offensive. If you can’t tell by my accent, I am british. And so are a bunch of other soldiers on this train.” “Sorry, John.” Said Jay. “Oh, and SORRY EVERYONE ELSE HERE WHO IS BRITISH!!!!” “So, guys, what is so important?” I said, trying to be patient. “And I noticed that you turned my gun’s safety on. Good thinking.” “That was my idea.” Said John. “But that much should be obvious.” “So, the thing that is so important,” Jay said, looking towards the front of the car. “Is that the food crate has been moved down.”. And indeed it had. I looked over at the crates and indeed saw that the food crate had been moved from it’s perch on the rack down to the floor, and sat there, unopened. “And you guys didn’t open it without me?” I asked, kind of surprised. “After all, we have gone for at least a day without food.” “Jay made me wait.” John said. “Otherwise, there would be no food left by now.” “That I did.” Said Jay, smiling. “After all, good friends help each other, right?” “Same rules apply to military teams in general.” I said Jokingly. “Thanks, Jay. Now, lets quite chatting and stuff our mouths with whatever is in there!” “I second that!” Said John happily. Me and Jay opened the crate, and to our surprise, there was fresh fruit. “My mom would always tell me to eat my fruit instead of junk food, and that they would taste better, but I never did agree with that until now.” Said John, who was peering into the box from over my shoulder. We each grabbed one fruit, held it up, and did cheers, but with fruit instead of beer mugs. I bit into the fruit I had grabbed, a mango, and in mere seconds I had devoured it. And so had Jay and John, with their chosen fruits. After we ate a few more fruit each, we sat back down on our “bed”s and didn’t say much, because we were deciding what we wanted to talk about. And suddenly, I remembered what I had seen in the name tag supply crate last night. Should I tell them? It could just be nothing. But then that… nagging suspicion… hmm… I feel… “Does anybody else feel tired?” I asked. “Because I am suddenly very sleepy.” “Same here.” Said Jay. John Probably said something similar, but I didn’t pay attention. “I found a, a… I found a…” I said, trying to tell them about what I found, but my eyes were already closing, and I slipped away into a no doubt drug induced hibernation. I was the first to open my eyes. I got up and looked around. John and Jay were still out like two lights in a blackout. There was also a big machine gun with a huge clip on a huge tripod with a swivel joint connecting it to the gun. A metal seat was extended from somewhere on the gun. A chill went down my spine, but not from the machinegun. It was from the air that I then realized was quite cold. It wasn’t that cold when I fell unconscious. I slid one of the doors open and saw a hilly winter wonderland, dotted with a few trees. Of course, that did nothing to help the cold, so I quickly slid it shut again. I thought back to the name of the mission. The Winter Exodus. Now I understand the name. I wonder who names these missions. Because surely “Move to Snow” would work just as well. Perhaps that’s just one of mysteries that nobody bothers looking into. I walked back to the bunks and started looking that back of the car over. Jay was slumped on the floor. That’s what you get for leaning forward off the side of the bunk when a feeling of extreme fatigue, Jay. John was leaned back against the car wall, still in a sitting position. I had never before realized that John was considerably taller than me and Jay, and mentally noted the fact. I also duly noted the fact that neatly folded and pressed military jackets were laid on each bunk, one jacket per one person. And on the floor was a small note. I picked it up and read it. We have reached Phase Two of our mission, and your orders are the following: Use the 85B Pass-By Machinegun to take out any and all people or vehicles that are not confirmed to be one of our units. We assure you that all civilians in this area have been properly evacuated from the area. You can find extra ammo in the crate labeled “I5B7”. And the food you found has been replaced with less counter intuitively drugged meals. We apologize for the mixup of food crates. Several Night Vision goggles, equipped with high-quality zooming abilities, have been placed in a crate next to the ammo crate. Good luck. -Rick Abby Clarkson. I wondered why all mission notes were written by whoever Rick was. Well, I guess I knew who he was. He was Rick Abby Clarkson. But that still isn’t much. Before I either die or leave the army, I would like to meet Rick. That guy seems both secretive and not, and I reckon we could share a few good, long conversations. I remembered how when I went on my first mission, I was surprised that a mission-specific note sent by superiors would be written in fancy handwriting, and even more surprised that it was signed with not only a first and last name, but a middle name too. Nobody really knew if it was a fake name, or not. I personally didn’t trust everything that Rick said. But I know that whether I like it or not, orders are orders. So I went over to crate “I5B7” and took out the goggles. They looked a bit like Virtual Reality goggles, but the front of it was one big lense for looking out, instead of a screen on the inside. It had the usual buttons to toggle NV and heat detecting, but the usual zoom buttons were replaced with a scrollwheel. A few minutes later, I was wearing a jacket that kept me at a good temperature, and had my fancy shmancy, if bulky, goggles strapped to my forehead. “Mark, you going fox hunting or something? It must be funner than this.” Jay said, now awake and picking himself off the floor. “But if you are looking to use that gun, I suggest you put on your heavy duty ear protection.” “Hey Jay.” I said, checking my head and seeing that I was indeed going to use a mounted machinegun without ear protection. “Thanks for the suggestion. I probably would have blown my ears out.” “And ours.” Said Jay, motioning with one hand at our medic. “That thing must have loads of decibels packed into it’s clips just waiting to wake even the sleeping 80 year old no doubt sleeping 8 miles away.” “Hey, it’s not like any normal bugel can wake a hibernating Jay.” I said jokingly. “And who knows how deep the medic sleeps.” “The medic.” Said Jay, answering the question I more stated than asked. “Obviously.” “Like my new goggles? They were prescribed with extra zoom power.” I joked. “They said my last goggles weren’t powerful enough to read text from a mile away.”. But my joke was wasted, because Jay had already put on ear protection, and was putting a second pair on John. I waved my hand for his attention. I tapped my jacket and pointed at the bunks, then mouthed “Don’t forget the Jackets”. About an hour had passed, and I was still manning the swivelling turret. I had it pointing out the left door, and was silently scanning the hillsides and trees for a sign of life. Jay was doing the same, but was instead looking out the right door. The medic was still asleep. Which was a bit worrying. But not as worrying as the fact that the train was slowing to a stop. But at least it wasn’t boring. A loud, shrill, multi tone whistle sounded, this whistle specifically meaning “drop what you are doing, hit the deck, and be ready for orders and/or a gunfight.”, or something along those lines. Jay, who was sitting in the righthand doorway of the car, letting his legs dangle outside, stood up and removed his goggles and ear protection. I did the same. “Should we take the ear protection off of John?” Asked Jay. “He could be in the middle of a wonderful dream, and we wouldn’t want to risk letting a loud noise wake him from a good dream.” “Come on, Jay.” I said, smiling, glad to once again be enjoying a conversation. “You know the rules.”. As Jay removed the ear protection from John, I stood in the righthand doorway, holding onto the doorway with my right hand, and leaning out to look at the cars ahead of theirs. I thought I saw movement somewhere way ahead, but it was hard to tell. So I used more than 20% of my noggin and put my goggles back on. Using the advanced zoom, I was able to see a few figured going from car to car, stopping at each one for only a few seconds, probably to give something to the soldiers within. So I took off the goggles, turned them off, sat down on my bunk, and waited. About five minutes later, there was a knocking on the righthand car door. Jay had closed both doors a minute ago to conserve heat. “I got it” I said, getting up and walking to the sliding door. I slid it open about half way. Standing outside was a troop leader, wrapped up in a heavy jacket, and no doubt as snug as a bug in a rug. “Hello “ He said, hesitating, no doubt to remember my name, before speaking again. “Mark. Here are your orders, and everything you need, or rather, John needs, is under his bunk. Bye.” “Well bye to you to.” I said, as the troop leader walked away. I slid closed the door and walked back to my bunk, sitting down. “So we need John for something now? Well that could be problematic.” Said Jay. “Shall we see what lies beneath the sleeping dragon’s nest?” “Affirmative.” I said. Jay got down into an army crawl and popped his head under John’s bunk. Then he reached his arms under the bunk. Seconds later, Jay emerged, a sleek, long, silenced sniper rifle in his hands. “This must be how our doctor here makes his money.” Jay said humorously.
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