Defense of Home
This was originally written up to be a sort of venting piece of mine, but I decided to make it a short story to publish on here. I'm still staying strong and hanging in there, despite all that's been going on with the world!
The soldier panted softly as he leaned against the sandbag barricade that was established long before the fighting became this bad. He was slumped over it, as if he had been killed in action. Luckily, that wasn't the case, but he had been close to dying more than once in this defensive position of his. This particular day was no different. Days like these, where the soldier would have to use up another medical kit after a battle, being left with all energy having been spent, and on the verge of collapse from exhaustion, were becoming more and more common. His options of defense were starting to run low as machine gun turrets either ran out of ammo, were so used up to the point the barrel melted so much it became inoperable, or was destroyed in an engagement. Rocket launchers that had been used up lay about on the ground, the destroyed vehicles up ahead being an indication of the fighting that had been taking place. The enemy was starting to grow desperate, sending in larger attack forces, or opting to send smaller attack forces but have them show up more frequently. However the enemy decided to attack, each passing day wore out the defending soldier more and more. He found some strength to look up across the barren and empty road that was directly ahead, and almost found the strength to stand up without needing to use the barricade as a support. However, when he tried to do this, he felt the wind being knocked out of himself and slumped back down onto it. This time he decided to sit against the barricade, looking at the very thing he was defending. A large city was now across from where the soldier sat. It was a city for some, but to him, he called it home.
Home, the place where ideas, creativeness, the pursuit of future dreams, and the will to live all come from. And the enemy was trying to destroy that. Without a doubt, some days have been much easier than others, but considering the recent events, each defense the soldier had done had been more and more draining and tiring to sit through. In other words, these have been some of the most rough days imaginable.
It would be unfair to say the soldier was a lone one. He would receive support every now and then, whether that be a small replenishment in ammunition and supplies, or sometimes allies would join him on the defense. Most of the time however, this single soldier would have to defend against the enemies by himself. Why? Because this was HIS home. Each of his friends had their own homes to tend to and defend, which meant they couldn't be available 24/7 to help. The soldier fully understood, he held nothing against his friends for not being there for certain battles. For all he knew, they could've been going through a large scale attack of their own during that time.
Regardless of whether or not the day was easier or rougher compared to others, no matter the size of the enemy attack force, no matter the amount of ammo and supplies that were left, the soldier knew he had to win every single time. This wasn't a case of wanting to pursue a perfect combat record to look good. The soldier knew that just one enemy victory would mean the end of everything. The ending of those future dreams, the creativity...he couldn't let that happen. Upon thinking about his purpose, he found the strength to get back on his feet, his rifle in his hands as he looked across the horizon, noticing some dots in the distance. Pulling up a pair of binoculars, he saw that it was another enemy attack. Infantry, Armored Personnel Carriers, tanks, helicopters, jets, the whole deal. Another one of the large scale attacks. The soldier let out a distraught sigh as he set the binoculars aside. Again?! They really want him and his home as a whole to die, don't they? Well no matter.
The soldier looked around his defense perimeter to see what he had. A couple of anti-vehicle rockets...one turret left...only a handful of medical kits left...and a low amount of ammo left for his rifle, but all the ammo in the world to burn through for his sidearm. He then walked over to a laptop that was currently open, displaying the available support statuses of his friends. None were available at the moment. Must be fighting their own battles. The soldier let out a soft swear under his breath before turning back to the incoming enemies, those dots now discernible objects and people. The soldier closed his eyes. This battle was going to be like many others before, in that he would have to take down an entire army by himself. And he was going to. The soldier opened his eyes again and stared down the incoming attack force as they approached, formulating a battle plan in his head. Rifle in his hands, and a newfound boost in energy and morale, he gave a determined look to the incoming enemies. He knew he had to win this fight.