The Call

September the 14^th, 2012. Headquarters of the 215^th Combined Brigade, Pristina. Cpt. P. has been called in to receive new orders. After the successful finalization of the operation Kosovo Sunrise several weeks have passed without much of a action, many units were resting on the battlefield that remained silent and quiet, like everything was normal, like there is no war but some big and awful boring exercise. Wounds are healing, soldiers are swimming in the rivers, eating themselves up, drinking. However, there is something in the air. Something bad, very distant but still very near, like some giant beast waiting to squeeze last breath of you and your troops away. Only those who have seen the fight before, those who spent their hours of combat in a muddy trench, with their hands and faces filthy, filling their magazines up with the bullets can sense it. Cpt. P. sensed it and enters command building with this bad feeling circling around the head.

In command, several high ranking officers are waiting in the long and very large room. Once it was classroom, now it’s command post for the entire brigade. They look worried sick, something is up, something is cooking and they are most probably going to serve that hot meal in the cold dishes to the Cpt. P. He sees that.

“Cpt. P. reporting as ordered sirs!”

“Very good Cpt. P. How did you travel?”

“Not very bad sir. Taking all circumstances into the account I can say freely that my trip was very nice. Albanian J-6 flew over my staff car but did not attack.”

“And your troops?”

“They are resting sir. I’ve got replacements, fresh raw recruits.”

“Ah, you’ve got them already. Are you satisfied with them?”

“Sir, I would prefer some more experienced men. But considering the fact we are guarding line with Macedonia, it’s not a big deal. Give me two or three weeks and I will make their mothers proud. Sir.”

“Ehh… Cpt. P., you don’t have couple of weeks, that’s why we called you in. Are you familiar with the extent of operation “Kosovo Sunrise”?”

“Well, as much as I am allowed to. I know we have managed to force Albanian regulars along with the KLA out of Kosovo. I also know that KFOR is giving us some kind of shit, I don’t know which one. I’ve just heard some stuff.”

“Cpt. P., I see you have shallow info about the events. Let me explain it to you. Yes, we have conducted brilliant operation. We have succeeded in all our operational phases and the enemy was beaten up.”

“Was beaten up…sir?”

“Exactly. Was beaten up. However, our Intelligence agency has managed to acquire reliable info about massive troop concentrations along the Serbia/Albania border. We have one very important task and reading your personal combat record you seem to be perfect guy for our small plan. Here is the thing. We need someone to do combat recon inside the Albania. By saying combat recon I mean enter there, see what’s going on in the neighborhood, get out without getting caught. This is high-risk plan and we need real professionals. Your 110. Infantry Platoon will participate in whole. We need to know what they are planning to do with those concentrations. If they want to attack find out two things: where and when.

Cpt. P. has listened the plan for the next twenty minutes. Even by then he knew this will not go as planned. Two operations of this type have already failed. He knew but resisted asking too much. When you are low ranked officer you will listen, say “YES SIR” and do the job. You will not ask questions the colonels and generals.