//------------------------------// // Chapter 13 // Story: Fog of War // by Teal //------------------------------// Chapter 13 A long line of soldiers stretched through the road, marching as they headed south to deny the enemy their own advance. Like a long snake, they made their way through the path, marching under the hot golden sun that watched from above. The sound of clacking equipment echoed throughout the area, accompanied by the beat of drums and hooves that shook the ground beneath them. With regimental colors leading each unit, the shiny poles reflecting under the sun, the ponies that composed the long line went forward as one army. Moving through the open fields, they were fully exposed to the heat, with nothing but the caps on their heads to protect them from the burning rays. To make things worse, the dust left by the hooves in front of the ponies were kicked up to the air with each step, covering their white uniforms and nearly blinding them with the particles. It was a hot, dirty, and long march, but despite all of this, the ponies continued to move forward. Some of the ponies, who had worked in their farms for long summer days, managed to endure the onslaught without much trouble. Despite sweating and cursing the heat, they moved with greater ease than many. For them, marching under the sun was no different from laboring and plowing their farms during an ordinary day at work. But there were many, those who lived comfortable lives and worked in cool building, who struggled with each step. Despite the upbeat encouragement of the drums and their companions, these ponies went slower with each step. Having drained their canteens long ago, in hopes of cooling their parched throats, these ponies had nothing else to cool themselves with except the sweat that dribbled on their coat. Under such hot and tiring conditions, some of the ponies who could not bear anymore of the pains fell to the ground, panting with throats dry and in desperate need for water. Having never marched under such conditions before, their bodies were tired and dehydrated, with their souls feeling the calling of death, all because of the hot march. Passing out on the road, their bodies were put to side, so that they would not be trampled by marching hooves. There, they lay unconscious, till somepony attended to them and cooled their heatstroke bodies by applying wet cloth and gently rehydrating them. But with all the ponies passing out from the heat, the job of tending to all of them became a difficult one, as the day took its toll on every unit. It seemed that the army was already taking casualties, without a single shot being fired. “They’re dropping by the dozens…” Newman said, shaking his head. “…by the dozens.” Marching with the 220th, which was the lead unit in his brigade, Newman saw the lying bodies of the tired and exhausted ponies, left behind by their regiment as they lay sprawled on the side of the road. Encountering the ponies, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for them, knowing that their bodies and minds had undergone a drastic change of environment. From the constant, yet relaxed, parade ground marching practices, they had been thrown into the tiring and heavy day long marches, as armies repositioned themselves to positions of their liking. The drastic change obviously took its toll on them, as the amount of ponies falling rose with each step they took. “Well, it is hot weather, sir.” Warren said, whipping the sweat off his forehead. “Never had this weather this bad back when we were fighting in Virginia. Although, I have to say, the weather there was pretty hot. Almost as hot as this.” Shaking his head, he tried to shake off the thought of the hot weather, as well as the idea of riding his horse instead of marching and getting dust all over him. Looking down towards the pony who was beside him, he turned his attention to Feather Wing, who was marching in full gear, complete with his metal helmet and all of his armor. “Hey, Feather Wing, you alright in there?” He asked, unable to imagine how the pony as still able to march without passing out. With all that armor covering him, the sun’s heat would have most likely have been absorbed by the metal. If he had an egg on top of his, then his armor plate would have acted as the perfect frying fan. “Yes, sir.” Feather Wing replied. His voice was slightly tired and hoarse, but despite this, the young officer looked like he was in ship shape, ready to go another kilometer or two before stopping. “Are you sure?” Warren asked, still finding it hard to believe that someone, or somepony, could withstand a march wearing that suit. “Those things look hot in the inside. I think you and Dawn would be better off marching without them…” Pausing for a moment, he looked around him to find no sight of the batpony that he just mentioned. “…uhh…speaking of Dawn, where is she?” “Well, sir, knowing her, she is most likely catching a ride on one of the wagons and taking a nap.” “Well, that sounds about right…” Warren said, knowing that the batpony was somewhat lazy and mischievous enough to sneak in a wagon on take a short nap. “…but I can’t blame her. Anybody exposed in weather like this would either fall asleep or be forced to do so by the heat. The two soon went on a friendly a chat, as they continued to march with the army. Even with the heat around them, the two managed to talk with each other without losing a breath as they moved. Despite the uplifting beat of the bands, a chat among friends was always the number one solution in removing boredom from a long march. Their conversation only stopped when they saw a lone courier making her way towards Newman, who was silently contemplating and cursing the heat. Keeping silent, the two listened to the conversation, wondering what it was all about. “Sir…” She said, moving to trot beside Newman. “…General Stockade wishes to consult with you.” “Very well…” He said, giving a short nod and looking back towards the courier. “…where is he right now?” “By the next hill you see, sir.” She said. “There’s going to be a large hill on the next turn of the road, General Stockade is supposed to wait for you there.” “Very, well.” Newman said before dismissing the courier. “Well, I wonder what the General wants to consult with you this time, sir.” Warren said, once the courier was out of sight. “Hopefully something about this marching.” Newman muttered. “This army hasn’t taken a break since we left camp and if we keep on, then I don’t think there would be anybody left to fight with.” Trailing behind their regiment, Lyra and Bon-Bon trotted with buckets of water on their backs, while keeping a lookout for the passed out bodies the lie on the road. As one of the dozens of groups assigned to the task, their job was to care for any fallen soldier who had fallen unconscious and keep them as comfortable as possible till a Doctor can properly care for them. This was an important job in each regiment, as it meant the proper care for ponies who could possibly die from heat exhaustion. Supplying them with water and keeping them cool was an important thing, especially under such heat. But for Lyra, who was carrying two buckets of water that were balanced on either side of her back, she found the task even more tiring, as she cursed the sergeant who assigned her to the job. Sure, she knew that the task was an important one, but it was a task that was just not for her. With the heavy load behind her and the hot sun burning through their fur, she was sure that the buckets had a higher ratio of her sweat instead of water. “Uhhh….why me!” She groaned, as she complained about her current situation. “This thing is too heavy!” The restraints of the buckets were pressing against her back, making it feel like they were burrowing under her skin. “Oh, stop that now…” Bon-Bon said, bringing a cold gaze towards her friend. “…your problem is nothing compared to those poor ponies who fell from the heat. Besides, these things aren’t heavy.” “Easy for you to say…” Lyra said, as she tried her best to ignore the pain. “…you’re an earth pony. Carrying stuff like this is easy for you, but I am a delicate unicorn who cannot stand manual labor.” “Yeah, yeah…” Bon-Bon said, knowing that being an earth pony did help with the task. But there were other unicorns in their group and she heard no complaints from them. This left her to conclude that Lyra was just a lazy pony, even with such. Sighing, she shook her head before noticing something on the side of the road. Turing her eyes towards it, she saw a fallen stallion that had been shoved aside the road. Turning towards Lyra, she gestured towards the stallion who lay sprawled on the ground. “How about you stop your complaining and go help that poor pony over there.” She said. “Fine.” Lyra muttered, before diverging away from the group to help the pony. This would have been the fifth pony she would have had helped today, so by now, she knew exactly what to do. Trotting towards him, she stood in front of the unconscious pony ans looked towards him. “Hey there buddy, you alright?” Lyra said, gently tapping the side of his cheek with a dry rug. The body was lying there on the ground, unmoving and still. But the gentle rise and fall of his chest showed her that he was still alive. Moving her hoof towards his forehead, she felt the heat on his skin and knew that he was burned out. From experience she learned from earlier, she knew that the most important thing to do was keep him cool and prevent him from burning up or else things could get worse. Acting quickly, she levitated the rug towards the bucket and dipped it into the water, soaking it. Giving it a short squeeze as she pulled it out, she then began to pat the pony’s face with the wet rag, hoping to cool his body down. Turning her head towards the direction the column was marching, she saw at least a dozen more ponies on the side of the road, lying and waiting for somepony to help them. Sighing, she continued to do her job and wipe more of the wet rug on the pony. Despite complaining about the task they were given, Lyra knew that she was lucky. For it could be her in the place of the stallion that she was helping. Looking down towards the road, General Stockade watched as young strong stallions pulled pieces of artillery under the hot blazing sun, making their way through the dusty road. He was glad to see such energy and strength from these ponies, as they managed to carry some of the army’s valuable assets despite the terrible heat. Turning his attention to the sides of the roads, his mood turned sour as he saw the exhausted and unconscious bodies that flanked either side of the road, victims to the cruel effects of heat exhaustion. The ponies lay there, gasping for help; as some of the ponies assigned to help them treated their comrades by giving them water and making them as comfortable and cool as possible. “Dreadful.” He remarked, as he wiped off his own sweat that was accumulating on his forehead and fur. “Just dreadful.” Turning away from the road, he looked towards his staff who had gathered there with him, as well as General Cutter and Colonel Newman, whom he invited to seek their consultation. “Well…” He said, looking at each one of them as his gaze moved from left to right. “…despite this heavy and costly march, we are making progress.” Moving forward, he gestured towards a map on the ground, which was laden with rocks on the side, so that it would not be blown by the strong breeze. “That may be so, General…” Cutter said, attracting the attention of all. “...but this march is taking its toll on us, causing many problems. If we continue this and find the enemy in front of us once we arrive at our destination, then we would find our soldier tired, exhausted, and unprepared.” “Oh, don’t worry yourself, General.” Stockade replied. “If things go as planned, the enemy would back away under our larger force, thus avoiding a confrontation.” “That may be true…” Cutter said, nodding slightly. “…but things could change. So far, our advance scouts report no change in the enemy’s advance west, meaning that we could still encounter them. But if we continue to hurt while we march, then our force would be too weak and would possibly loose its advantage.” Stockade fell silent for a moment, thinking about what Cutter just said. True, his plan did focus on the possibility of the enemy falling back from their force, avoiding any confrontation. But the Griffons were an arrogant race and that also meant the possibility of them staying to fight. If that happens, then the inexperience of their army and the exhaustion of the soldiers might bring defeat upon them. If a defeat happens, then it would not only mean the failure to halt the advance of the enemy foraging force but also the possible destruction of two-thirds of the Equestrian force in the area. The silence within the group kept on as he began to contemplate on his strategy, wondering if his plan would work or if he should fall back while he had the chance. This silence was only broken when Newman raised his hand and tried to attract his attention. “Yes, Colonel, what is it?” He asked, hoping that the human had something to suggest. “Well, sir…” He said, clamping his hands together as he explained his idea. “…if you ask me, I think that we should halt the army now. Let them rest, eat, and recuperate, before continuing again at dusk. By then, the weather would be cooler and easier to march on and we can march for at least three hours before camping again to sleep. Then, we can wake the army up before dawn and march for a couple of hours, under the blanket of the cool the dark skies. If my estimations are correct, we could be at our destination by sunrise.” Stockade stared a Newman and wondered if his idea would actually work. Sure, the night would protect them from the heat, but wouldn’t that mean slightly less sleep for the soldiers? Wouldn’t they be too tired if they do go into a fight? Thinking about it, he began to realize that a slight case of sleepiness was better than total exhaustion, total exhaustion that they were experiencing right now as they marched. The longer he thought about the idea he suggested, the more it sounded good. Nodding to himself and muttering some trivial facts, Stockade looked at Newman once more before turning to look at them all. “Very well…” He said. “…the army shall rest for now. But by sundown, we march again.”