The Ultimate Victory

He walked into battle with his head held high. His steps were assured and confident, and even if you looked closely into his eyes, you wouldn’t have been able to detect fear; for there was no fear to be detected. He had joined the army with dreams, brave dreams, and he intended to fulfill all those dreams on that day. And it was a day tailor-made for battle. Even the sky was indignant at the act of man turning upon man. The thunder rumbled, lightening flashed, but this did not deter our hero or his comrades. They were not ordinary men who took any notice of the insults nature was throwing at them. No, they were soldiers. And they knew that no mercy could be shown by them, for no mercy would be shown to them. They thought of their enemies as monsters rather than men. Monsters that were standing in the path of their country’s progress and well-being. Would they stand for that? Did they want anything but good for their country? NEVER, they had all shouted. Their hearts were made of steel now… and even those with soft hearts had armour of steel around them. They would not hesitate during their brutal acts, nor would they regret their actions later. And even if they did, it would make no difference to the organization that had led them to this fate, the organization that had turned these men into machines. Once their purpose was served, it made no difference whether they took pride in their actions or they were consumed by an unforgiving repentance.

He felt his first drop of fear when he saw the enemy charging towards him. He lifted his gun, but that was the closest he got to firing during the battle. The initial drop of fear was followed by a rush of blind fear that conquered all his senses and made his mind go blank. All of a sudden, the young, brave man that had entered the battlefield disappeared; only to be replaced by a weary, cowardly man, who was not ready to accept a painful death, much less give it to a fellow human being. His mind went numb with fear, and his feet were rooted to the spot. He became oblivious to what the soldiers were doing, to the orders that his captain was giving.

He came back to his senses only when the noise of battle faded around him. With a sudden jerk he awoke to his surroundings and discovered that he was in the midst of a clump of trees. He fell to his knees and let the exhaustion enshroud him. He was completely drenched in perspiration, and his breath was coming in desperate gasps. Night had fallen, and suddenly his shelter amidst the trees seemed hostile and unfriendly. Rain lashed at him with wrath. He looked around him; everything seemed to be bristling with indignation. And that was when the enormity of his deed struck him. He had fled from the war before it had even started. He had abandoned his army when they needed him most. He was nothing more than a coward, a deserter. Yes, that was the word: deserter. How would he be able to face his family, his friends? And even worse, how would he face his friends in the army, the people with whom he had spent the last two months? He had heard terrible stories about how deserters from the army were treated when they were caught. He had no choice but to run, to flee. In the space of a day he had been transformed from a soldier, a proud soldier, to a fugitive. All his life his only ambition had been to join the army. He had got there, and now he had thrown it all away. He had no idea of any other way to earn a living for himself, his family. He could barely think now. His mind was growing black, clouded by a mixture of fear, sadness and immense frustration. He was trapped in Hell’s deepest pit and there was no escape for him.

When he awoke from a troubled slumber the sun was shining. He decided that there was no point in wallowing in self-pity. The first thing he had to do was find something to eat. He began walking aimlessly, hoping to find an army-camp or a village. He hadn’t been walking for too long before he came across a stream. He drank deeply and along with his thirst, some of his fears were dispelled. He felt less troubled now, and more hopeful. After all, no one would know that he had deserted his regiment as long as he didn’t tell them. All he had to do was find another camp, which he would join as it marched to battle. This new destination served as a beacon of hope for his tired soul, and he walked resolutely forward, listening intently for any sounds and observing his surroundings for any sign of a camp. He walked along the stream he had found because it assured him that he would not go thirsty before he found the camp and, more importantly, because he knew that camps were generally set-up alongside streams. And so he trudged on for a day, with barely any breaks. At night, he slept under a tree, and then resumed his search early next morning. Not once during this time did he lose heart or think about giving up. He walked on as only a true soldier can, stopping seldom, thinking about nothing but his destination.

It was surely the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Set against the background of the crimson child of twilight, stood a camp. A camp, with people, a camp with hope, a camp with a purpose. After spending so much time with only his thoughts and his inanimate surroundings for company, the presence of fellow humans thrilled him. He ran towards the gate, using up the last of his waning energy, and thus it came to be that the two soldiers at the gate saw a man collapse about 15 meters from them. They hadn’t even seen him. He just seemed to have fallen from the sky. They took him in, offered him refreshments, and then said words to him that were sweeter than any music he had ever heard. Their regiment was marching forth to battle in two weeks. However, their Captain had made it clear that no one from outside their regiment should be allowed to fight alongside them. But our protagonist was not to be denied his chance for forgiveness, his chance to make amends. Don’t worry, they told him after his incessant pleas, we’ll slip you in if you’re so determined to fight.

And so they did, even though it was more difficult than they had initially thought. But, being men of their word, they did not give up and so it happened that for the second time in that particular month that our protagonist walked into the battlefield. This time he didn’t hold his head high with false confidence. Instead, there was a fierce determination in his eyes, determination to not back out and remain with his army to the bitter end. However, as he took that final step which brought him within the range of fire of his enemies, all his fears came rushing back. For a moment, he became numb, as he was filled with pure terror, unadulterated terror, terror so deep that he couldn’t even remember what he was so terrified of. He took a moment to steady himself, and, using all the strength that he possessed, he fought his fear down. And then the soldiers around him heard his shout, his cry of delight that echoed all over the battlefield, the cry of battle that urged his army forward and sowed the seeds of fear into the minds of his enemies. He rushed forward recklessly, firing, reloading, and then firing again. No enemy could scare him now; nothing could. For he had defeated his foremost enemy, and he was invulnerable to all fear. The battle lasted only half an hour. All the victorious soldiers raised their guns and fired into the air. This was accompanied by shouting, shouts of furious joy. And any living soul present there at that moment should consider themselves blessed, for they are among the few who know what complete and utter fearlessness sounds like.

Our protagonist did not take time out for respite after the battle. He immediately helped tend to the injured. Once that was over, he sat down on the ground and closed his eyes. He knew no better feeling than the one he was experiencing at that time. He had fought against his fear, and he had won.
Copyright © Shantanu Anand, 2008.