All Eyes on Me

Pedigreed, young, and reasonably intelligent, Jon was the type of person who could do almost anything with his life if he put his mind and money into it. That presented a grave problem to the directionless young college student. He always harbored a vague distaste for capitalism. Pursuits like consulting were the Bain of his existence and he restricted his participation in such ignoble ventures to the summer months only. No, he wanted to fight for a noble cause. All he needed was a cause.

He enlisted in the local militia during peacetime, figuring that, given the state of the world, he’d find a suitable cause once war broke out. As luck would have it, one did. Just after war was declared, Jon volunteered for a nine month tour of duty starting on September 3rd and ending on May 25th. Finally, he had a chance to fight for something he believed in! After checking Instagram to find out who he’d be fighting against, Jon headed off to boot camp.

The drill instructors—freshly minted cadets themselves—taught Jon and the other cadets the basics of soldiering. They learned battle cries and marching cadences; anthems to boost morale and demoralize opponents; and the fine art of sign-making. Battlefield tactics were quite simple: be loud, hold up signs, and charge. If that doesn’t work, keep doing it until it does.

Jon had so much fun there that the two hours of training whisked by, and he was a bona fide army private. His unit was preparing for a mass mobilization. The Supreme Commander laid out his winning strategy. Jon’s unit would disrupt celebrations and ceremonies. It would make itself a constant and long-term presence to win the locals’ hearts and minds. 

The Supreme Commander brought his speech to a close: “And remember, comrades, your resolution must never falter. No argument must lead you astray. Never listen when they tell you that the oppressor and the oppressed have a common interest, that the prosperity of the one is the prosperity of the other. It is all lies. The oppressor serves the interests of none except himself. And among us liberators let there be perfect unity, perfect comradeship in the struggle.” 

With that, Jon and the others mobilized. Though his unit played an ancillary role in the conflict, he was content with making righteous noise for his beloved cause. That is, until the POWs came back. See, some of his compatriots had been captured while occupying a building. Jon admired their sacrifices but was jealous of the hero’s welcome they received upon returning. That could have been me! He thought. As the ticker tape rained down, Jon realized that being a soldier wasn’t enough. He wanted to be a hero.

Being a hero requires courage and courage was not Jon’s strong suit. But he soon realized that bravery and fanaticism go hand in hand. He went back to boot camp, this time as an instructor. Instilling righteousness in new recruits strengthened his own resolve. He emerged from the experience as a new man.

By then, the Supreme Commander was preparing his forces for one final offensive. Troops would occupy the heart of enemy territory. The routing of their comrades in Columbia gave Jon pause, but he overcame his fear and signed on. 

They encamped at dusk. Through the fabric of his REI tent, Jon could see the shadows of enemy units circling like vultures around the camp. Their constant presence, along with the lack of running water for showering, made clear that the enemy intended to starve them out. Jon began to regret his participation in the mission. There was a mere week left in his tour of duty, yet it seemed that the mission would extend for months. 

But later that week, the enemies dispersed. The Supreme Commander had negotiated a deal with the enemy commander, allowing Jon to finally go home and reintegrate into civilian life. He ended his tour of duty proud that this was, in fact, a victory.