We arrived in Thailand just at the onset of their week-long new year celebration. I haven't seen any fireworks as I expected, but instead the people are engaged in a city-wide water fight for multiple days.
This means war.
Fellow traveler gone soldier Harry von Schassen deploys with our infantry unit to Soi 11, a street known for its clubs and, to our tactical advantage, Volkswagen buses converted into street-side bars. I mean, refueling depots.
After disembarking from the sky train we are stopped by a street vendor who warns us of the coming battle. We don't speak the same language yet he effectively uses charades (gun, you, wet shoes) to attempt to demoralize us.
"We're ready to do what's necessary," I tell him, trying not to let the green show through my expression. He salutes us as we march past, but out of the corner of my eye I see him shake his head in pity, as if saying, "Those poor bastards."
Everything seems ordinary at first, but according to our map we haven't yet reached the hostile zone where casualties are said to be the highest. We are still unarmed until we rendezvous with our squad leader, Matt, but we lost radio connect through facebook shortly after our briefing.
"Mother of God," I mutter under my breath. The night air is sticky and humid, but I smell blood in the air. We procure our libations from the nearest supply depot. Morale is high and people are even laughing and smiling despite the feeling of impending doom.
A soldier from another platoon smiles at me sympathetically, but it's all too late. Just as I recognize the spy in our midst, we are hit with a maelstrom of ice cold water. Man down! Man down! We're still unarmed at this point but Nicole quickly grabs an ice grenade and throws it down the spy's body armor (dress?).
We make a run for the next checkpoint to look for survivors, but our eyes are fogged for some reason. Perhaps the spy poisoned the rations as it might be affecting our faculties of reason. It certainly wasn't the bucket of alcohol or anything. We press on.
Before long we find an unknown squad caught under enemy fire. They appear to be very cold, wet, and demoralized. We decide that Matt is most likely MIA, and having no radio contact with HQ we can only ensure our survival by making allies.
Nicole rushes in bravely to secure the flanks and push back the opposition. She is badly wounded in the first assault but adrenaline and sheer will power create an unfaltering powerhouse within her. She is unstoppable. Like something out of hell, she directs her unabated wrath toward the enemy. Harry smokes a cigarette in the trench, and I see the fear running through his shaking hands. It seems that the gruesome reality of war is too much, but just when I think he's about to flee the scene he suddenly conjures a water pistol out of thin air and runs wildly into the street, dodging taxis and motorcycles, to provide backup for Nicole and this hodgepodge of Russians, Scandinavians, Australians, Germans, Thais, and Nigerians. I couldn't fathom it at first, but this war has gone global.
After hours of exchanging fire with the enemy, we are pushed to the brink of exhaustion. The 10 baht energy drinks only go so far, and we consider surrender by about 3am. I'm drenched from head to shoe and I can't take anymore. But just as we agree to make our retreat, the other side shows their mettle and awards our bravest warriors with alms and respect. It seems that we have reached a cease fire agreement by relentlessly fighting each other, recognizing the apparent futility of it all. Nicole hugs one of the most nefarious of the enemies during the brief exchange. All is well for now, but there is no guarantee that the warring factions won't become restless again.
We part from the company and head back to treat our wounded.
No comments:
Post a Comment