The TTC screamed all the way from five kilometres. Valkin noticed, he turned, and the shell barely missed our jeep. But due to the shell's impact pressure, the jeep lifted.
A white spider web of pain stitched my skull. My fingers found rough cloth, and I realised that I was hanging. My bag was stuck on the tree, and so was I. My head was bleeding, and I could feel the pain in my back. I took out my knife and cut the strap of my bag. And I fell on the ground. I was sure that I had broken a rib or two. I got up and looked above. I had fallen from the edge and miraculously survived. All I remembered was that after the impact, the jeep rolled, and we had crashed. I don't remember how I fell from above.
I looked for a long stick, found one, and tried to make my bag fall. After many tries, the bag was freed from the tree. I picked it up and began to examine it. I had one magazine of HK416, three TMAP bullets, and ten bullets of SVD. I had my pistol attached to my belt. For other resources, I had two packets of rations and a half-filled bottle of water. I placed the items inside and tied my bag to my belt, as I had one strap. I walked further ahead and found the M95 half buried in the snow, lens cracked. I had lost the HK416 during the fall, and the SVD was with Alfred. So now, I had a knife, a pistol, and an AMR.
I checked my communication set and found out it was broken. There were no means to get in contact with Ferry and the rest. I looked around and examined my surroundings. I was on a small cliff, but it wasn't at a high altitude. I took out my map, which was inside my vest. I was 20 kilometres from Arkanian territory. As I looked at it, I found out that there is a village ahead. The only road leading outside the valley was through that village. So I decided to head there, as I may have found my team in that area. If they were alive.
I walked slowly and slowly. My head and back hurt like hell. Luckily, my legs and arms were safe, except for a few scratches. I walked beside the mountain. As I came near a small gap, suddenly a soldier emerged from there. I couldn't balance myself and fell. He attacked me with a knife. I dodged and got up. I took out my pistol, and he rushed at me. I fell, and the pistol slipped out of my hand. He came at me and stabbed my right thigh. I screamed with my heart. It was cold, I was already injured and now this stab. I kicked his face with my left leg. Then I got up, grabbed the AMR by its stock, and gave him a hit on the face. It broke his jaw. Before he could get up, I shoved the barrel inside his mouth. I threw aside the AMR, grabbed him by his hair and hit his head on the tree two times. I then walked to my pistol, picked it up, and shot him in the head. I then sat beside the tree and took deep, heavy breaths. The knife was stuck; it hurt so much. I had no power or guts to take it out. I couldn't understand what the soldier was doing there.
I put the pistol back in, grabbed the AMR, and, using it as a support, began to walk. My legs…No, my whole body was shaking. The M95 was the only support I had. I walked further ahead and to the edge of the slope. The village came into view. The slope wasn't steep. So I began to come down, slowly. Below the slope, it was a straight path to the village. As I became nearer and nearer. My vision became to get blurred. I didn't lose hope and walked steadily. Somehow, I reached a house. It had no doors, and it was empty. At the entrance, I fell. I didn't get up and remained on the ground, breathing slowly and faintly. Then, I heard the sound of a vehicle. Thinking that it may be the enemy, I gathered some energy in my muscles and dragged myself to the wall and then beneath a window. I remained there, and the vehicle passed by. After it passed, I didn't move. I couldn't; I had no power. My vision became more blurred, and then I fainted.
I didn't feel alive, nor dead. When I opened my eyes, I wasn't inside that house. It was all white around me. I understood it was a dream. And it was a dream I had been seeing for years. The same black figure of a woman was in front of me. She was holding my face with both of her hands. It was my mother. The warmth of her hands told me. She was saying something. I could see her lips move. But I didn't know what she was saying. Then, her face came forward, I closed my eyes, and she kissed my forehead. Then I opened my eyes. I wasn't in the dream anymore.
When I opened my eyes, the smell of something being cooked entered my nose. My vision became clearer with the passing of every second. Then, I saw someone near me. I grabbed my knife. But as my vision became clear, I was able to identify that person. It wasn't a soldier, it was an old man, covered in clothes. And he was cooking something.
"Ahh, you are finally awake, son." Said the old man.
"Is it cooked?" I asked.
"Yes…"
Before he could complete. I took out my handkerchief, grabbed the utensil with it, picked it up, and put the fire out.
"Sorry, old man. But due to this fire, the enemy may find us."
"Well…It's okay. The meat is cooked, so eat it."
I looked at the pot, and it had one piece of meat. I sat, halved it, and gave one to the old man. He denied, but I insisted, and he took it.
As I ate, I asked him. "What are you doing here? In the middle of nowhere?"
He took a bite and replied. "I am an old man who follows the wind and the stars."
I looked outside the window, and it was night. The light of the moon was shining. And from its light, I understood that this was an abandoned village.
"What are you doing here, son?"
"I am a soldier, and I am here on a mission."
"Alone?"
"No, I had friends. We got parted."
He nodded, and we ate our food. As I ate, I saw that the wound on my thigh was covered with a cloth. I looked at the fragile body of the old man. And then I continued to eat. After finishing my food, I grabbed my gear and stood up. But the old man stopped me.
"Don't go, it's unsafe in the dark."
"But, I have to find my friends." I insisted.
"Still, son. It's unsafe. Rest and leave at sunrise."
I wanted to leave, but I remembered that I had lost my torch. So I decided to stay with him.
"Son, why do you fight?" He asked me as I sat.
"I fight…" I didn't have an answer to give. But I remembered what Narkit told me once. "I fight for my country and to protect my friends."
He looked at me. Maybe he was satisfied, or maybe not.
"Last time I came to this village, it was blooming. People, children, all were happy. They did trade, farm and enjoyed their life. But now…It is all gone. No one lives here. The trees and fields don't bloom anymore." He took a big sigh. "I could never understand why human wants to kill fellow humans. Doesn't everyone have the right to live and be happy?"
His questions questioned my purpose, my reason for existence. I couldn't answer, but only hear and look at him. He was another person, tired of all this fighting. He, like everybody else, demanded peace.
"We…" I decided to speak. "We fight for our people, to protect them, to make them happy. Everyone wants this for their loved ones. But some people fight for power, for lust of control. For the greed of the throne. It all depends on the one who is fighting."
He heard my words with attention.
"Yes, you are right." He answered and went to sleep.
Maybe this time, he was satisfied with my answer. I did the same and went to sleep as well.
I didn't have any dreams this time, and after a long sleep, I woke up. The sunlight peeked through the holes in the wall and made the room a little bright. I looked at my watch; it was seven. I got up, picked up my gear, and dragged the AMR back on my shoulder. The old man was awake as well.
"Well…It's time to leave. Thanks for the food and for checking on my injury." I said, and gave him a packet of rations as it was all I could repay him with. But he denied.
"No, son. I helped you out of kindness. I am an old man near death. You are young, and a bright future is ahead of you." He stood up as well with the help of his stick. "Now, go and find your friends. They must be waiting for you."
I placed my rations inside my bag. Did a handshake with him and left the house.
This encounter with the old man changed my perspective regarding the reality behind the violence. That there is always a sad soul behind the horrors of war.