Cheesman Chronicles

This story is fairly intense, and features themes of war and violence (without spoiling it). If this is not what you need right now, feel free to exit from the story and read something else.

I also wrote it many weeks ago, so relations to current events is coincidental. However, I think it is important to tell none the less. Therefore, I will keep it posted.

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The further from the conflict, the deadlier leaders of war became. Throughout history, that was always the case. And though there were violent conflicts in the past, the radio changed everything. The detachment from the fellow human took its next course.

Jane would always remember these words. Her teachers saying continued to ring through her mind as she crossed piles of corpses taller than herself. Smell staining her clothes as much as their blood. It was a sight she was used to by now. As a war reporter, she had been all over the globe seeing one atrocity after the next. It always amazed her at how violent, how cruel, how terrifying human beings could tear down and destroy one another. How they could kill them and starve them and beat them till they were barely recognisable as the people they once were.

Right now, she was a part of a small platoon that was about to deliver a strike to it’s neighbouring country. She’d been sent here due to being allies with their forces, and to report on the story as it occurred.

She scoffed at the idea. As if anyone cared about this sort of place.

“Feeling alright, Jane?” a timid voice rang out behind her.

She looked around and saw a man smile weakly at her. A camera fell over his front, held up by a weak strap. His eyes were big. His face, young. Not meant to be in a war like this. Yet here he was, acting alongside her.

Jane smiled and nodded.

“I’ve been better,” she answered. “Though I’ve been much worse. How about you, Alejandro? Feeling alright here?”

He shrugged and looked out.

“I don’t know. I guess I’ve been better, too. I struggle to think how much worse it could be.”

“Let me tell you,” Jane said. “You don’t want to know.”

She looked back out of their safe house, admiring the view. There was something enticing about a desert. Something that made it stand out to you despite it’s emptiness. Perhaps it was the awesome scale of it, she would think. That there was something over the horizon. Or that there was a strange level of complexity to it. It’s not just sand. There’s sandstone grounds, massive rock hills, plenty of basins and even greenery and water.

Or maybe it was just how empty it is that gave the mind time to reflect. Time to wonder. Time to wander.

She shook her head and backed away from the window. As far as Captain Patrick Mann was concerned, being too close to the window was a death sentence. And he may have been right. She’d seen more than a few instances of soldiers being shoot through the head while they were chatting with friends.

“Come on,” she said to Alejandro. “The Captain’s briefing should be ending soon.”

He nodded and they both headed downstairs. True to her word, he had just finished laying out the plans for their next attack. He noticed the two of them enter and gave a curt acknowledgement.

“Ah, you’re here. Good,” he said. “I will want you two involved closely with this attack. If commands intel is correct, then there’s a good chance that an enemy leader is hidden in a stronghold not far from here. They’ll send in a bombing raid a few hours before us, then we’ll head in and take out their insurgents.”

“Can you be sure that the intel is correct?” she asked.

“The enemy combatant gave it up under serious torture. The intel’s good.”

With that, he left to join the rest of his squad. Alejandro gulped and looked back to his boss.

“Torture?” he said. “These guys are already resorting to torture?”

“They never stopped,” she sighed.

“I thought that it wasn’t a good way of getting information, right?” he asked. “That they often give you want you want to hear rather than anything real. That they just want the pain to be over?”

“You’re right.”

Alejandro glanced back to the group, worry filling his face. Jane shook her head and followed his gaze. The captain was a powerful man, one capable of leading his tropes into battle without fear or worry. All around, a good man to have at the head of a fight.

But that lack of fear could be a problem. He could be risky. Bold. Ignoring the signs when they don’t fit his plans.

Torture was a big one. Jane and he had clashed heavily of his liberal use of the most horrible thing one human could do to another. While he would argue that the rewards were great, Jane found it hard to buy. Most of what they said was only confirmed by other witness accounts from more willing participants, or the head of commands main intelligence gathering.

She sighed and headed down to meet with the captain. He glanced at her, waiting for them to start.

“So are you sure this is the right base?” Jane asked. “Based on maps it appears to simply be a school.”

“Schools are an excellent cover for military bases,” he began in a rehearsed monologue. “Lots of rooms, lots of entries and exits, lots of facilities. And that’s not even covering the morality of it. The enemy believes that we will not strike on an innocent life to draw out the guilty party.”

“And you won’t?”

“We don’t have a choice,” he said. “If we were to warn them, the enemy could run away. If we run in without the bombs levelling the playing field, then it would be an unnecessary loss of life for us. There is too much flat ground around them to get us in safe. They’d spot us instantly.”

“So you’re going to kill hundreds of innocent lives just to draw out a dozen or so guilty guys?”

“Believe me, I don’t want it to come to that. If it makes it any easier, we haven’t noticed many people inside it based on satellite images. We estimate around twelve to twenty people inside. Much less than you’d expect from some kind of civilian bunker. But about right for a base.”

He sighed and looked down.

“I know how this looks,” he started. “To be frank, I don’t like this either. But in war, you have to play dirty some times. Based on what we know, the intel we find in this place could potentially save hundreds, if not thousands of lives. Once we take down everyone inside, we will be able to bring this war to an end faster. Less casualties, less bloodshed.”

Jane grimaced but didn’t say anything. She knew her job. Report. No interfering. She could complain all she liked, but that bombing raid wouldn’t stop with her word alone. Though she somehow doubted that the captain was as torn up about the whole thing than he said.

He took her silence as conformation the conversation was over and departed, heading to inspect his soldiers bunks. She turned back to Alejandro, who appeared interested in what they were talking about, but could tell she wasn’t ready to explain.

A few hours passed by, and they heard planes roar overhead. Jane explained to Alejandro that this was to prevent them from being picked up on radar. It didn’t help ease their tension as the loud banging sounded off in the distance. They waited for what felt like hours for it to stop. Bomb after bomb. Dropped onto a school. A place of learning.

Jane thought: would she have ever taught here? If she were on a sort of exchange program, would she have taught the kids about how to find the facts and get them out there? How to tell people what was happening in the world?

It didn’t really matter now. After thirty minutes, Captain Mann called an end to the raid. The building was now no more than rubble. He ordered his soldiers to get into the cars so they could drive out and investigate.

No one had escaped.

Jane, bundled in close with Alejandro and some other soldier she didn’t get the name of, was escorted out to the ruins. Their convoy was three cars, bulletproof and tactile, and not very comfortable. Captain Mann drove them out, listening to his playlist on the cars speakers. Right now, they were listening to ‘Highway to Hell’.

“What do you expect to find?” Alejandro asked.

“Hopefully a treasure trove of information,” Patrick said. “Enemy routes, plans, maps, statistics, the works. If we can get some kind of communications, that would be best. Then we could intercept and disrupt them without them even knowing.”

“They wouldn’t have sent out a message once the bombs started?” Jane asked.

“As far as we know, no. No signal was detected escaping the building when we started to bomb it. A bit strange, I’ll give you that, but not unexpected. I don’t know about you, but I’d be more focused trying to get out of a situation like that than sticking around to let my team know what’s happened.”

Jane frowned. It wasn’t a very likely story. An emergency radio signal would have been sent out, even while it was being destroyed. Or more likely if anyone escaped, they sent a message through text or phone call.

Having nothing was strange.

“I feel you’re a bit worried, Jane,” the captain said. “Rest assured, our guys knows what they’re doing. We will find our information and find our foes.”

“It’s not that,” Jane said. “It’s just…”

“What?”

“Nothing,” she sighed. “You focus on the mission. I’ll focus on the reporting.”

The captain gave a dismissive nod before turning back to the road. A few of the soldiers gave her wary looks. Her own doubts reflected back at her within their eyes. She knew these people. They were decent enough. Capable of taking an order and carrying it out effectively. They weren’t the ‘best of the best’, but they could get their job done. For some, she knew, this would be their first mission.

The car bumped and came to a halt just out of range of the school. The recon officer took out their binoculars, confirming that the ruins were empty. No enemy forces beside them, no-one escaping out of it, nothing. It was clear for them to enter.

Patrick thanked them and they started to walk over. They lowered their head, eyes on the horizon. Guns were drawn but kept down. They were obvious targets out here. If their were combatants inside, they could shoot at them easily. Even with their armour, that was no defence against a sniper.

Yet nothing came.

Jane tried to push the thought to the side. Most likely, the enemy was either dead or too disorganised to notice them. With the sun to their backs, they would be difficult to spot without good eye protection. And even then, it would be hard to notice with their dry-coloured briefs and camouflage. To shoot at them, while not impossible, would simply be a difficult exercise, one that they wouldn’t be able to engage in.

Still, this was not expected. They had just been bombed. Any stragglers should be on lookout or driving away. The sun could only hide a battalion so well. Even a few warning shots would make more sense than this utter silence.

Alejandro glanced around, the guns of soldiers protecting him with his camera. ‘Different types of shooting’, he liked to joke. Now he wasn’t in the mood. He looked over to Jane.

“You sure we’re safe?” he whispered.

“Not really,” Jane whispered back. “But the good news is we haven’t been spotted. They would have shot us by now if they did.”

“That’s supposed to comfort me?”

“We’re in a war zone, Alejandro,” she sighed. “There’s only so much comfort you can get.”

“I should have been a paparazzi,” he lamented. “A lot less dangerous than this.”

“But a lot more important. You capture what is happening. I may be writing about it, but it’s your photos, your story, that really gets the people thinking. Supporting our troops, sympathising with the civilians, hating the enemy. Your eye is what keeps the public knowing what is happening.”

He grinned sheepishly. “You really think that? Even with all the words that you write and the stories that you tell?”

“A picture is a thousand words,” she grinned. “You’ve got a good eye, you know. One of the reasons I picked you to be here with me.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Though next time, think I can get an easier assignment?”

“Sure thing.”

“Quiet back there,” the captain said. “We’re getting close. No communication until the coast is clear. Got it?”

The reporters, and the rest of the squad, nodded. Patrick gave a nod back, then signalled for their weapons to be raised. They stood to arms and peered down their sights, preparing for a skirmish. Jane and Alejandro stayed back, but close enough to see them begin to enter the building. Alejandro took out his lens and began to shoot the squad, capturing the historic moment of when they found the intel to stop the war.

Jane took out her own recorder and started to note exactly what had been happening. How the soldiers entered the building carefully and with precision, arms raised but refraining from shooting. Commands were yelled out as they continued through, calling out ‘clear’ after ‘clear’. As their voices dimmed, the reporters headed inside.

The school was eerily similar to the ones they had both grown up in. Posters on the wall celebrating previous years and achievements. An awards case for school sports. Smiling photos of former students. All this history looked back to them in accusation. This threat that they were intruding on what could be sacred ground. For the children who were here, maybe it was.

Jane glanced back to Alejandro. His eyes betrayed his sensitivity to this place.

She took his arm and guided him down the halls. The soldiers had made it near the end, up to where the debris was most effected. From the maps they had been shown, the gym was behind it. A perfect place to set up a base. Large, open aired, where all kinds of equipment and storage could be installed.

Also perfect for keeping people.

They made it up to the soldiers as they began to pry at the fallen rocks. Patrick looked up to them and gave a head turn as if to request help. No words were to be exchanged still, even with the coast cleared. It wasn’t the atmosphere for it.

Jane and Alejandro started to help out. The concrete ceiling had fallen through completely. Jane worried there may have still been a bomb inside of it. Would they be able to escape if it went off? Would it even matter at that point?

As the rocks came down, one by one, a ray of light peeped through the end. If they could clear just a bit more of that, the captain explained, they may be able to get to the other side. Though it would be a tight squeeze. They’d have to send in one of their smaller troops first to get a look and confirm if it was safe.

They all glanced to Private Adams. Tracey Adams, the newest cadet, was just over a hundred and fifty-two centimetres – the height requirement. She nodded, ready to take on her duty to the cause. The squad moved up to the hole and began to pull out one piece of rubble at a time. The concrete poured to house a place of education, of learning, of joy and curiosity. All of it was dragged away to reveal the true damage that they had caused.

Alejandro took pictures as they pulled the rocks away. His camera clicks joined the sounds falling stones as the only noise in the hall. The captain gave a wary look to him, though didn’t say anything. If an enemy could have heard the camera clicks, they would have heard them march through these halls.

Finally, the moment came when Private Adams could crawl her way through the hole. She held up her gun, poking it over the edge in case anyone were to fire. Nothing came. Once she decided it was safe, she edged herself further. And further. And finally, she was at the tip.

She didn’t say anything. Whatever she saw stopped her in her tracks.

“What do you see?” the captain called out.

“It’s… It’s…”

“Private,” Patrick repeated, calmly. “Please, what do you see?”

“It’s… it’s a massacre!”

“What?”

The captain crawled his way up the edge of the pile, the spiked rebar doing little to stop his advancement. He moved her out of the way as he poked his own head through, investigating the site on his own. He paused.

“Private,” he said slowly, “I need your grenade.”

“Sir?”

“We need to blow this mound open. Get the rest of the squad through. Now hand me your grenade and get away from here.”

Tracey passed him her grenade and leaped down from the edge. She bundled up into one of her brothers in arms and began to cry. Jane frowned and looked back up to the captain. He threw the explosive into the centre of the pile and ran away. The squad cleared from the hall, taking defensive positions by the walls that still stood.

The building shook as bits of debris flew from the entrance. Jane covered her ears, the rumbling pushing it’s way through her. She glanced over to the other side of the hall, watching as Patrick began to lead his troops forward. Alejandro and her followed close behind. Out and through to the gymnasium.

Children. That was the first thing she noticed. Children with parents and loved ones, huddled up close. Though they weren’t moving. The stillness of them was the worst part. It wasn’t normal still, where their breathing was measured and quiet. Where they’re eyes moved just below their lids. Where the faint traces of human life flickered over their faces. No, this was still. Dead still.

The worst sights were the ones who were no longer intact.

Jane couldn’t comprehend it. Her brain refused to acknowledge what was plainly in front of her. She turned around, feeling her throat burn as vomit started to make it’s way up. From the sound of one of the solders, she wasn’t alone in this thought.

She dared a glance, and realised it was the captain who threw up. It was hard to believe. She thought nothing could phase him. That even the worst atrocities were familiar to him.

He wiped his chin, ordering a sweep of the area. Some of the soldiers marched to attention, fanning out to check all access points. They knew it would be for nothing. There was nothing else to be done here.

It was the others that caught her eye. They couldn’t move. Their legs were frozen to the ground. Rooting them in place like trees wallowing over a lost animal. One of them collapsed. One of them stayed still. Yet another looked around, not able to believe what had happened.

Some of the soldiers, she noticed, were hardly fazed. Staring at the carnage as if it were no more than an accident. She dreaded to think what could make them think that way. That they didn’t see these people – these children – as human anymore. Were they pleased? Did they care? Did it honestly matter right now?

“I don’t understand…” the captain said. His voice was pleading, begging the universe for an answer. “How could we have gotten it so wrong?”

“It wasn’t your fault,” a lieutenant said. “The intel was wrong. You couldn’t have known.”

“But how could they do this so easily?” he continued. Strength had returned. He started to bring back his command to his soldiers. Though the edge he once had was no longer there. “How could they just bomb a school filled with innocent people without checking?”

“Perhaps the enemy was here,” another soldier said. They were one of the people less affected by this nightmare. “Maybe there are tunnels leading to another base. Do you want us to look?”

Patrick, feeling forced to act, nodded. Three squad members left the gym, leaving just five others remaining.

Jane looked back to Alejandro. He was taking as many pictures of the massacre as he could. Documenting it. Making sure it wouldn’t be forgotten. Behind his lens, she noticed tears. Was this place so similar to the ones he knew growing up? The posters on the walls, the children who huddled inside. Did they remind him of his own people? It wouldn’t surprise her. After all.

He was from Mexico too.

She walked towards the captain. This close, she could see how much the effects of command weighed on him. He looked down to her.

“I just want to apologise to them,” he croaked.

“I know,” she said. “And that’s why you’re here. Not up in some office.”

“Do you think I would have made this call if I were up there? Away from this fight?”

“Absolutely,” she nodded. “If you were away from here, you’d be detached. The people here would just be statistics. An ‘unfortunate casualty but one that couldn’t have been prevented’.”

He eyed her, but couldn’t respond. He couldn’t do anything. All he could do was stare.

The further a commander was from a conflict, the worse they could be. They would call for the most heinous and terrible actions on their fellow human. Simply because they were the ‘enemy’. They weren’t people anymore, just targets to be neutralised. And the details of the target didn’t matter to them. Just that the number went down. Just that they advanced that little bit further.

Jane wondered if that would ever change.

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