The Long March - Spring

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Spring had arrived, though the distant mountaintops were still white, the flatlands were green with new life. The Major knew that soon, they would be heading into those mountains once more. The rebellion still raged, this district was, as yet, "unpacified."

He was waiting, with some trepidation, outside of the General's office. He had been ordered to report in his full dress uniform, something he hadn't worn in months. He was surprised how loosely it fit. The rations at this outpost of empire were plentiful, but uniformly bad. Unappetizing even when prepared by a professional chef, the outpost had none of those. The mess attendants' attitude could best be described as surly. Their competence was also questionable. So he had lost weight, quite a bit from the look of things.

The door to the makeshift office opened, "The General will see you now."

The Major entered the room, noticed the General was standing up as he entered, he came to attention and saluted, "2nd of the 5th, reporting as ordered, Sir!"

The General returned the salute then sat back down, gesturing to a chair in front of his desk, "Have a seat, John, relax. Would you like something to drink, tea perhaps?"

"No Sir, I'm fine."

"There has been talk about the camp, John. Rumor has it that your troops executed wounded militiamen up there in the mountains late last fall."

"It's quite possible, Sir."

"Ah, so you don't deny it?"

"I have no knowledge of that, General, one way or the other. I'm sure it happened, the troops were pissed off, worn out, and thought they were going to die. They came out on top, sort of, but we had to withdraw, so ..."

The General nodded, "Wouldn't be the first time that's happened, probably won't be the last. How's your battalion, ready to take the field?"

The Major looked out the window to his right, he saw troops drilling on the parade ground, somebody else's, not his, "Ready as we'll ever be, barring getting any more replacements. I've got 367 effectives. Over half of those are new recruits, but I've trained their asses off over the winter. Best I can say is that they'll follow orders, to a point."

"We've had scouts up in the mountains, a couple have actually survived to come back and report, that militia outfit that hit you last fall? They're down to maybe 500 effectives. You cut their numbers by a lot. Problem is, looks like they plan on coming down into the hills and establishing a base to raid our supply lines."

"I hear a tasking coming on." the Major stated, flatly.

"Funny you should mention that," the General said without a trace of levity in his voice. "I want your battalion on the road day after tomorrow. This comes from higher, the other battalions have their own tasking."

"We're going out because of last summer, aren't we?"

The General nodded, "Sorry John, higher doesn't have any confidence in your outfit, in their eyes, you've failed twice. They want to grab the rebels attention, up in those hills. Your folks are the sacrificial lamb. We send you out, the militia gathers to wipe you out ..."

"Then the rest of the army hits their main force and their main supply base," the Major finished the General's sentence for him.

"Yup, sorry, John. I think you'll do the job, if you do, the rank you wear now will be made permanent, the battalion will be all yours."

"Or what's left of it ..."

"True. Now get your people ready, you've got a little over 48 hours, make the best of it."

The Major stood up and saluted. As he turned to leave, the General said softly, "Godspeed, John."

"Are your people ready, Commander?"

The commander looked at the representative from the self-styled "Peoples Government," he was slovenly and arrogant, like most politicians the commander thought to himself.

"Yes, what exactly are we supposed to do?"

"Establish an operating base down in the foothills, near their lines of communication. Harass them, kill them, steal their supplies, you know, guerilla shit," the man's grin made the commander want to vomit.

"I don't suppose you'll be coming with us?"

"Oh hell no, I've got other camps to visit, other plans to relay. Remember, it doesn't matter if you and your people don't make it through another summer, if we hurt the enemy, there's a chance of international recognition, with all that entails."

The commander saw that as the opportunity for more politicians to make money. Maybe, just maybe, if those international types sent troops and more modern equipment for the militia ...

"Very well, we march in three days."

"You march tomorrow, Commander."

The commander took a deep breath, "You're not in the provisional capital out here, Representative. A fellow could die out here, real easy like, you know what I mean."

The representative of the people looked for a long moment at the commander, "Was that a threat?"

"Nossir, that was a promise. We march in three days."

"Very well, but I suggest you never come to where I operate, Commander. It can be unhealthy there, you do know what I mean, yes?"

"Wouldn't think of visiting that shithole you call a 'capital,' Representative. My second-in-command will show you out."

"I'll leave ..."

"Nathaniel. show the man to the door, if he refuses to leave, have him carried out. When you're done, come back here with the company commanders, we've got planning to do."

The representative sputtered, but he left when he saw the look in the second's eye. It was obvious that the man would take pleasure in any pain the representative might have inflicted upon him.

As the battalion set out from the encampment, the Major sat his horse and watched. Even the recruits looked good, everyone had fresh kit, their weapons were clean, and the troops marched with a spring in their step.

The colors snapped and fluttered in the stiff wind coming down from the mountains, the Major had insisted it go into battle with them. This time they would come back with honor.

Or not at all.