The Country is Burning

The two sentries laughed.

Adem walked in, silently. Both of them froze, unsure of how to act. It was as if they had come face to face with a live tiger.

“Morning inspections, comrades.” he paused, enjoying their awkward reaction. “Do not worry, it is not illegal to laugh. Yet.”

They smiled at his joke. Both of them were young men, volunteers from the same city. They were factory workers who had fled when the Fascists had taken power. Eusebiu was the younger brother of a Union Leader, and narrowly escaped the police after his brother was strung up on a meat hook, and labelled a Communist. Umberto was an Ivrim, a minority blamed for the country’s stagnation.

“Comrade Captain, there haven’t been any sightings of movement. Claudiu has not yet arrived. We haven’t heard any reports from the sentries lower on the mountain.”

This was worrying, but Adem remained stoic.

“Keep on guard. Be ready for anything.” He grabbed one of their rifles and inspected it. Both of them were bolt-actions, five shots. The iron sight was slightly dinged.

“Who’s rifle is this?”

Eusebiu meekly raised his hand.

“What’s wrong with it, comrade?” Adem handed it back to him.

Eusebiu examined the rifle. He looked at Adem for any possible hint. Umberto spoke up.

“The sight is damaged.”

“Correct. Comrade Eusebiu, why does that matter?”

“It-it matters because it affects the rifles’ accuracy.”

“It is your duty to protect your equipment. Everything we have was either taken from ambushing the fascist dogs, or manufactured by workers in our areas of control. To not respect your equipment is to disrespect your comrades who fought to take this rifle, or the workers who have manufactured it. To callously damage your rifle is to put your fellow comrades in danger, and with it the future of the revolution. You will repair those sights and write a self-criticism by the end of the day.”

The life had drained from Eusebiu’s face.

“Yes, Comrade.”

Adem took a view out of the firing slits. There was no movement, as the sentries had reported. He hoped that Claudiu would suddenly jump from out behind the rocks, with some ridiculous excuse for his lateness. Perhaps that fool had gotten into a fight with a mountain goat, or had picked mushrooms on his hike to the base. If he had been captured…

Adem moved on, checking the next defensive point. Holes had been drilled so that mortars could fire from within the cave network that they had heavily fortified. It was a tight space, and guarded by two women sentries, Eva and Luisa. Both of them had cut their hair short, and under their uniforms they looked identical to the male soldiers.

“Morning inspections, comrades.”

Both of them stood at attention. Everything was orderly. The homemade shells were carefully placed on racks. Rifles were not laying against the wall, but were in each of the soldiers’ arms. Each of the mortars, leftovers from the trench war were kept in good condition, with only a small amount of replaced parts. If only the other partisans had shown this level of discipline, then the revolution would have been won.

“Anything to report, comrades?”

“Luisa has a beautiful singing voice” Eva said.

Luisa punched her in the arm. Adem laughed.

Like the other sentries, he knew their pasts. Eva had always wanted to be a soldier, and the communists were the only ones who would take her. At 16, her father had tried to make her marry an older man, but she beat the hell out of both of them and left. Luisa was one of the few survivors of an anti-guerilla campaign. Fascist troops had entered her village, and slaughtered them all for aiding the communists. Only she and her younger brother had escaped by hiding in a pond, watching as their family and neighbours were locked in their church and burned alive.

“Good to hear. I’ll leave you both to your duties.”

The other defensive positions were in order. Cave entrances fortified by sandbags and wood, covering machine guns. Two of the soldiers were singing. Adem stopped to listen.

"Next time you see me, I will be smiling.
Beautiful, Beautiful, Beautiful-ful-ful
As the winds, they are a changing.
Soon the the tides will turn as well."

"My lover's waiting, she's always waiting.
Beautiful, Beautiful, Beauti-ful-ful-ful.
And I will see her, her in the sunlight,
while the fascists burn in hell."

He entered the room. They stopped, but Adem clapped to the beat, and started singing the final verse.

"Let's keep on marching, into the mountains,
Beautiful, Beautiful, Beauti-ful-ful-ful,
Let's keep on marching, until our freedom,
will be all of ours again."

The soldiers laughed and one slapped Adem on the back. It was Hee.

"I didn't know old iron-ass had it in him." said Hee. Hee was unlike any of us. He was brought as a boy from the colonies. He had forgotten most of his language, as well as his family's faces. Radicalized by agitators, disgusted by the fascists who claimed that his race was backwards, and with nothing to lose, he became one of our best fighters.

"We would sing a different version in the trenches. It was about how one day, we would be free from war."

Vadzim, the other soldier smirked. "So much for that."

"So much for that."

Adem finished his inspections, verifying that both of the machine guns had been maintained. He left to give his report to the Commissar.

"Stop if you want to live."

Adem felt something hard pressed against his back.

“Got you, scum. Now die.”

He turned around in one quick motion and picked up his assailant, little Sergei. The boy dropped his toy, a stick painted black to look like a pistol.

“Let me down, let me down you pig.” he said, punching and flailing his legs. The ten year old was no match for Adem.

“You are getting good at this, little one.”

He smiled, as big as possible. “Good enough to join the army? To hunt and kill the fascist dogs?”

He was a skinny, scrawny kid. Still afforded the same rations as everyone else. He had the same, indomitable spirit as his older sister.

“Not yet, comrade. You are too young.” Adem let him back down.

“I can do it! I’ll kill all the monsters, the devils.” He picked his toy back up and made shooting noises. He posed in the same way the soldiers were taught to.

“I’m sure you will. One day.”

“No mercy!” He ran around the halls, making gun noises. “Grenade” he shouted, throwing a pinecone around the hallway.

“Sergei!” Adem said, raising his voice. “Do not shout grenade in the defensive area. You should not even be here.”

“But-”

“Soldiers follow orders.”

“Yes, comrade” he said.

Sergei stopped playing, his body slumped. He walked slowly to the civilian area.

“If you are good and do your chores, I’ll play war with you.”

He turned around, his smile beaming. “You promise?”

“If you are good and do your chores.” Adem said. Sergei ran to the civilian quarters.

Adem made his way to Commissar Pavlo’s office. The door was closed. He listened in. Ell, Pavlo’s wife, leader of the women’s organization, and the second highest authority in this partisan group was speaking, translating something from her language.

Adem knocked.

“Who is it?”

“Adem, comrade. I have news.”

“Enter.”

Adem entered. The office was overflowing with books and stacks of newspapers. His desk was covered in a messy stack of writings and reports.

“Comrade, Claudiu hasn’t come back yet. I fear the worst.”

Pavlo brought his hands to his temples, rubbing them.

“Are you sure he isn’t just late? Maybe he had to hide to dodge a patrol.”

“If he’s been captured, then our base has been compromised. It’s a huge risk.” Ell said.

“What about our scouts on the lower parts of the mountain?”

“Our sentries say there are no reports. It’s possible we’ve been cut off.”

“Without hearing a gunshot?”

“If they tortured Claudiu, they would know the sentries’ positions. It’s possible.”

“And what course of action do you recommend?”