1001 Nights Cast

‘Hamilton, like last time I need you to spread west with Wallace. Prince and Billups will come in through the back and get our men from there. Evans and Arroyo, you need to be listening for my call. When I say go, you support those men right out on the flank. Cover them. Give them plenty of room to move, in and out. Got it?’

Their faces were depleted, their breathing heavy. Exhaustion had long since gone, and they were simply moving on the skerrick of adrenaline remaining in their youthful bodies. They sat and listened to their orders with intent, and a focus that could only be explained as fear. Their parents rued every day that they were not with them, at home, safe inside watching sports, eating chops and making fun at the silly little things in life like light beer and leggings.

‘Do we need permission to run again Sir?’

‘Damn it McDyess, of course we need permission to run again. You know that. I can’t let you out there again if you’re going to be blown up as soon as you leave this bench.’

‘Sir, my boys aren’t going to last long, Sir. They’ve been dispatched twice already in the past 42 hours. We’re low on the support that we need. We’re simply running out of legs.’

‘Low on support! You think I don’t know we’re low on support? Fuck, McDyess, we wouldn’t be here if we weren’t low on support. Hold tight, and when the radio comes through I will send for you. You have to understand I’m stuck on this. I have one hand strangling my neck and the other fairly wedged up my ass. I’ve got no room to move here.’

It was just after dusk and the small lights on the equipment dash gleamed up onto the face of the weary Colonel. The mosquitoes were attacking him, but he didn’t care. It was as if he couldn’t even feel them on his neck and around his wrists as they sought out his blood. His skin was leathery and tanned black. His eyes were deep set, but piercing blue and protected by healthy amounts of hair from his brows. He hadn’t eaten a thing for the whole day. Instead, he was being eaten from the inside out.

‘McDyess, Sir. I’m feeling crook: stomach cramp, and I’m pissing blood, Sir’

‘You’re what? Evans, since when? Why haven’t you said anything before now, for God’s sake?’

‘Wallace said it would pass Sir. He said it was because of the lack of a good meal. He said the cramps would pass, but now I am bleeding Sir.’

‘Hit the Medcent, Evans, get checked out and report to me as soon as you have.’

Wallace never budged from his stool unless ordered. He rested it against the wheel of the Unimog. It was the only spot he could find that would support his massive back with some form of comfort. He was almost expressionless, rapt by the music playing through his oversized headphones. He knew this song well; Thelonious Monk’s ‘Round Midnight’.

‘Sir, have you heard anything yet?’

‘Latest is: the insurgents are taking a stronghold over the east quarter. They’re moving in fast. We have to get our people out of there. Shit. McDyess, I need your men now. Same drill, in and out like last time. There are two left in there, one injured.’

Wallace stopped the music.

Evans could hear the sound of boots running on dirt. Canisters and belt clips were bashing against the side of metal waist belts. He wanted in, but had a drip attached to his left hand. He was hopeless and hopeful all at once.

A high-pitched sizzling noise rang out across the city’s perimeter. It was nearing. It was coming inwards, towards the site. The walls were moaning deeply and a thunderous clap floored the tent. A flash of light penetrated the earth. The first deafening blast had become a fading crumple, settling over what seemed like an eternity, like the dust cloud of gigantic proportions that came with it. There was a deathly silence now. There was death, silent.

Everything was black, and brown, and deep red.

‘Excuse me Colonel. Can I, should I…?’

‘What is it Evans?’

‘Do we need permission to move these bodies?’

‘Yes Evans, we need permission’.