Old Folks' War
ergeant Telly Grim peered over the trench, his 90-year old body
aching and not looking forward to climbing over the edge to charge
the enemy when D-hour arrived. He lifted his binoculars to his face
and looked out over no person's land while he held his whistle
loosely in his other hand.
Private Gloria Mathews asked, "See anyone, Sarge?"
"Nope, not a soul. They must be taking a vitamin break," Sergeant Grim replied as he ducked back down into the trench before anyone on the other side could spot him.
He looked up and down his section of trench at his platoon. Not a soul under 80 and all just as nervous and scared as himself though he tried not to show it.
Gloria said, "Here comes the Captain. Looks like he has new recruits with him. We can sure use them."
Captain Graham entered the trench from an adjoining trench. Five men and women warily followed him. They flinched occasionally at the sounds of an explosion not too far away. Sergeant Grim could tell by the sounds that they were flinching at that it was their own mortars firing. Not the enemy's.
Gloria said sarcastically, "Welcome to our retirement village!"
Sergeant Grim glared momentarily at Gloria to shut her up. Then he saluted the Captain.
Captain Graham said, "These five are yours, Sergeant. Negotiations have been completed for this month's fighting. If we gain ground, term limits will go into effect for politicians. If not, then they won't."
"I hope the hell we win the battles then. At least we'll be rid of the gawddamn idiots who passed the law that old people should fight in wars just so they could solve the social security and retirement problems. Damn pissants were exempt from military service when it was only younger people serving. Now they're still exempt when it's us older folks. It's just not fair for them to use us to decide issues they could vote on instead. It wasn't our fault that people live longer now," Sergeant Grim replied.
Captain Graham nodded, his frail 93-year old body shaking slightly inside his poorly-fitted clothing. He said, "I just hope the hell we don't see someone younger with the same ideas elected in their places.
That's if we win. Well, these folks are all yours. Take care of them, Sergeant Grim."
Sergeant Grim watched the captain leave on his unsteady legs. Then he addressed the scared faces of his new platoon members. He said softly in his raspy voice, "Welcome to the outfit. Sorry to meet you like this instead of over drinks and bridge. If any of you play bridge, let me know. My bridge club is in need of a fourth."
The new soldiers, all of them just turned 80, nervously laughed.
Sergeant Grim said as he rechecked the time, "Okay, maybe it does sound funny, but we have agreements with the enemy about not fighting at certain times. We actually do have a bridge club. Anyway, we'll be attacking the enemy real soon. As the youngest soldiers in the platoon, it's your job to leave the trench last. You have to help some of the others over the top."
One new woman asked, "Is it true that only semi-automatic weapons and mortars are allowed?"
Sergeant Grim answered, "Yes, it's true. They don't want us to all wipe out the other side or them wipe out us in just one attack. It's supposed to be more humane this way since we're not as fast as we once were. We'll charge their trench when the time comes. If we're lucky, we'll force them to retreat through their back trenches. If not, then not all of us will return to our trench. Just see to it that anyone using a walker is assisted out of the trench first. You'll leave the trench with me as the last people to exit."
One man laughed, "Walkers?"
Sergeant Grim said, "They didn't give very many exemptions out. We've got some soldiers using walkers, I'm sorry to say."
The man exclaimed, "Goddamn legislators! That's not right! I wish I could use this rifle on them! I'm mad enough now, I feel like leaving!"
Sergeant Grim said, "No one's ever made it past the mine fields yet that we know of. There's no telling what's beyond those to stop us. We're stuck in this part of Texas whether we like it or not."
One woman asked, "Has anyone survived yet to see a hundred and actually get retired?"
Sergeant Grim said, "We've been told that it's happened but none of us knew any of the people who reached the magic hundredth birthday. I don't know if it's true or not that anyone left here alive to go into actual retirement. If so, they must have been in the first batch of senior citizens to get drafted after the law passed and already near that age. I hope that some of you do see that age. Okay, I'll put you with your squad leaders now. Good luck to you all."
Sergeant Grim placed his whistle to his lips and blew. Along his section of the trench, men and women slowly climbed over the top as mortars provided covering fire. He watched as the younger men and women helped the older soldiers out first and then climbed over themselves. He took his place moments later in his platoon and shouted, "Charge!"
Slowly, his platoon and others crossed no person's land toward the enemy trench...
