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GWOT IV - Investment
Nov. 13th, 2024 04:54 pmGWOT IV - Investment
The previous day had been battle.
The town had not been affected, because its defenders chose not to defend the town, but rather dig in at the outskirts.
The laws of war were clear. Any object used for military purposes was liable to destruction. In other wars, defenders sandbagged buildings and attackers blasted those buildings.
Not here. Neither side really wanted to do that. Of course, if they had to, they would.
People had still huddled in the basements or the centers of their homes, hearing the crackle of small arms fire, the booms of artillery and the explosions of combat. Mere human screaming was too quiet to be heard.
The dawn broke and the invading troops advanced. Unshaven, gaunt, dirty, with rifles in their arms. Behind them and among them, fighting vehicles - both armored and unarmored.
Beyond, ambulances and trucks did the work of harvesting the injured, the prisoners and the dead.
The people gathered to watch on the sidewalks. Sullenly.
In the main town square, the mayor knew his duty. Dressed in his best suit, holding a stick with a white flag, he and his aides awaited the pleasure of the invaders.
A four wheel drive vehicle pulled into the square and an officer got out. Shaven, almost dapper. The mayor looked again. Not shaven. Female.
"You are the mayor of this place?" she demanded. Her hand was not near her pistol, but her guards were as heavily armed as heavy infantry ever are.
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
"Under the laws of land warfare you are hereby detained. It is my duty to identify those who will resist our occupation and detain them as well. It is our right to destroy anyone who opposes. What do you know? Speak swiftly, the lives you save will be those of your townspeople."
He knew he had no choice. An aide provided a list of names, with addresses. She read it, took a mobile phone photo of it, and handed it to a subordinate with the order, "Arrest them."
As some of her troops - not all - departed on this task, she directed her driver to the flagpole.
"Take that piece of shit down and put ours up."
One flag fell, to be trampled in the dirt.
The townsfolk watching winced. Another flag rose proudly. None applauded, not even the soldiers who also wore that flag.
This was necessity, not pride.
"Let us go inside. I do not have to tell you, what will happen if there is ambush?"
He shook his head. He would be killed. The ambushers would be killed in battle or shot afterwards. And the town would suffer.
Soon they were seated, she behind the mayor's desk and him in one of the comfortable seats.
"We have many details of administration. The water system, the food, where wounded have been collected, how they are cared for. But first, Mr. Mayor, where is your family?"
He flinched.
"Hiding."
"We will scrupulously obey the laws of war. We do not take hostages. We are not Homeland. But not everyone is as law abiding, and who threatens your family now threatens me and my troops. So tell us where they are so I will assign a guard."
A pause.
"Now."
It was in that moment that it all became real to him. Not pieces in a game, not a dumb show, but blood as real as that dried splatter on her blouse.
So he told her, and she gave the orders.
"Battalion says they're going to retreat further today. So the war is unlikely to come back here. That means you are our citizens and we are responsible for your safety and well being. Let us begin."
They talked, she took notes, and gave orders. A signals specialist fiddled with the telephone on the Mayor's desk. Soon maps were being set up, and a remote radio link. Only fools set up radio antennas where they were actually standing.
One of her Sergeants took over what police arrangements the town had. They would continue their duties but surrender their weapons. Another Sergeant reviewed the emergency services - fire and medics. They would have first call on what fuel was left.
"A Civil Affairs team will be here soon to go through your records. In the meantime it is enough that they are kept guarded and intact."
"I expected ... worse," he found himself saying.
"Beware of believing the propaganda," she replied. "This is war, and war is hard, but no one wants this to be harder than it has to be. Except some fools, and we can deal with those.
"I don't have to tell you, that we will expect obedience and punish rebellion?"
He nodded, not daring to point out the brassard on her sleeve.
Troops returned with the prisoners. They would be identified, interviewed, processed. Some would be returned to their homes, those who took an oath not to resist. Others would be taken at their word - or known for their duplicity - and taken on trucks to detention and internment.
None would be harmed. Unless they resisted.
Outside, the flag wafted in the slight breeze.
A bear, lacking a star.
The previous day had been battle.
The town had not been affected, because its defenders chose not to defend the town, but rather dig in at the outskirts.
The laws of war were clear. Any object used for military purposes was liable to destruction. In other wars, defenders sandbagged buildings and attackers blasted those buildings.
Not here. Neither side really wanted to do that. Of course, if they had to, they would.
People had still huddled in the basements or the centers of their homes, hearing the crackle of small arms fire, the booms of artillery and the explosions of combat. Mere human screaming was too quiet to be heard.
The dawn broke and the invading troops advanced. Unshaven, gaunt, dirty, with rifles in their arms. Behind them and among them, fighting vehicles - both armored and unarmored.
Beyond, ambulances and trucks did the work of harvesting the injured, the prisoners and the dead.
The people gathered to watch on the sidewalks. Sullenly.
In the main town square, the mayor knew his duty. Dressed in his best suit, holding a stick with a white flag, he and his aides awaited the pleasure of the invaders.
A four wheel drive vehicle pulled into the square and an officer got out. Shaven, almost dapper. The mayor looked again. Not shaven. Female.
"You are the mayor of this place?" she demanded. Her hand was not near her pistol, but her guards were as heavily armed as heavy infantry ever are.
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
"Under the laws of land warfare you are hereby detained. It is my duty to identify those who will resist our occupation and detain them as well. It is our right to destroy anyone who opposes. What do you know? Speak swiftly, the lives you save will be those of your townspeople."
He knew he had no choice. An aide provided a list of names, with addresses. She read it, took a mobile phone photo of it, and handed it to a subordinate with the order, "Arrest them."
As some of her troops - not all - departed on this task, she directed her driver to the flagpole.
"Take that piece of shit down and put ours up."
One flag fell, to be trampled in the dirt.
The townsfolk watching winced. Another flag rose proudly. None applauded, not even the soldiers who also wore that flag.
This was necessity, not pride.
"Let us go inside. I do not have to tell you, what will happen if there is ambush?"
He shook his head. He would be killed. The ambushers would be killed in battle or shot afterwards. And the town would suffer.
Soon they were seated, she behind the mayor's desk and him in one of the comfortable seats.
"We have many details of administration. The water system, the food, where wounded have been collected, how they are cared for. But first, Mr. Mayor, where is your family?"
He flinched.
"Hiding."
"We will scrupulously obey the laws of war. We do not take hostages. We are not Homeland. But not everyone is as law abiding, and who threatens your family now threatens me and my troops. So tell us where they are so I will assign a guard."
A pause.
"Now."
It was in that moment that it all became real to him. Not pieces in a game, not a dumb show, but blood as real as that dried splatter on her blouse.
So he told her, and she gave the orders.
"Battalion says they're going to retreat further today. So the war is unlikely to come back here. That means you are our citizens and we are responsible for your safety and well being. Let us begin."
They talked, she took notes, and gave orders. A signals specialist fiddled with the telephone on the Mayor's desk. Soon maps were being set up, and a remote radio link. Only fools set up radio antennas where they were actually standing.
One of her Sergeants took over what police arrangements the town had. They would continue their duties but surrender their weapons. Another Sergeant reviewed the emergency services - fire and medics. They would have first call on what fuel was left.
"A Civil Affairs team will be here soon to go through your records. In the meantime it is enough that they are kept guarded and intact."
"I expected ... worse," he found himself saying.
"Beware of believing the propaganda," she replied. "This is war, and war is hard, but no one wants this to be harder than it has to be. Except some fools, and we can deal with those.
"I don't have to tell you, that we will expect obedience and punish rebellion?"
He nodded, not daring to point out the brassard on her sleeve.
Troops returned with the prisoners. They would be identified, interviewed, processed. Some would be returned to their homes, those who took an oath not to resist. Others would be taken at their word - or known for their duplicity - and taken on trucks to detention and internment.
None would be harmed. Unless they resisted.
Outside, the flag wafted in the slight breeze.
A bear, lacking a star.
