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mardi 6 mai 2014


Brad passed me half a loaf of bread. Not knowing where he’d got it from, I accepted it silently, nodding in thanks, and took a bite. My stomach growled at the unusual intake of food. I ignored it, and took a second bite before passing on the rest to the others. God knows they needed it.
We’d been holed up in B-city for three days. The enemy had encircled us, leaving no way out. Three messengers had been dispatched to inform HQ, sometime during the second night, but nobody knew if the news had reached central command. All that was left for us to do was hunker down and hope that help would come before we got wiped out. Not really what you’d call a plan.
It would have been half as bad if we’d been in one of our own cities. But we had taken B-city just a week ago, and the people did what they could to help their own army take it back. Wasn’t enough that we were attacked from the outside, we had to watch out for the inside too. God bless our country.
We had established our command-center in one of the schools of the city. It had a good infrastructure, was easily defendable, and internet access was available, if only the phone-lines would be back on duty. Sure, the kids around these parts could not attend class any more. But then again, with all the fighting going on, it wasn’t much of a difference.
We spent the night in tight silence, as usual. When we woke up, a strange sound buzzed in our ears. We looked around, alert for any enemy movement, but there was nothing to be seen on the horizon. Suddenly, Brad pointed up into the sky.
A squadron of choppers was flying overhead. They had our flag painted on them. A few seconds later, we heard the well-know sound of missiles being launched. Where the enemy tanks were stationed, flames leaped into the sky. Once more, it was time to kill.

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