"Colour Sergeant!" cried Captain ZamBek. "Colour Sergeant! Over to me!"
Of different legions of a crumbling army, Colour Sergeant Toyo came rushing to the call of his new commandant. His old legion, crushed by the weight of their own bellies, the remnants now absorbed into the Black Crow Legion under the command of Captain ZamBek.
"Suh! You called, suh?" shouted the CS amid the din of battle, and as his small retinue came to a panting stop.
"The battle has now entered an epic proportion CS", said the Captain without taking his putting the binoculars down in an effort to survey the enemy's position.
"The enemy may have breached our southern walls, but we will make out stand here and push them out again. That, is why I called for you: this very spot will serve as our victory stand and be remembered throughout eternity."
"Suh!" cried the CS.
"Yes, yes, I know. The enemy's morale are high and our troops are well under siege at the moment. But, mark my word, our name will be ranked high like those glorious heroes of yester-wars. Yes, we will".
"But, suh!" cried the CS again.
"Now now, CS. I want to practice the victory speech for tomorrow when we regain this castle of ours".
"But, suh!" again the CS cried.
"I said not now, CS! Can't you see I am busy?"
"But you are bleeding suh!" said the CS.
"Huh? What? Wh...where?". ZamBek put down the binoculars on top of the wall in front of him even as his left arm went feeling about his body. "Get the Medic!"
"Medic!" The cry was echoed all along the line by several troops, some who were heavily bandaged, while a few were holding the blood-soaked clothes covering the wound of what used to be the knee. Or lower leg. Or arm. Without choice, they stood their ground. Or sit, would be the apt word for it.
"I say, CS, why are your eyes bloody red?" asked ZamBek to the CS who was standing almost reaady to faint.
"Suh! Nothing of much concern but affairs back home, suh!" replied the CS.
"The enemy got to your history, have they?"
"Suh! I think I very cruel of them suh! Its like a death sentence".
The Medic came rushing up the step of the battlement and straight to the CS, who pointed out to their commandant. The Medic got to his knees and tore open the back of ZamBek's shirt. As he was dabbing the blood to get a clearer picture of the wound, Zambek shouted as if in great pain.
"Aaargh! You imbecile, can't you be more careful! That is a nasty wound there. Were my thoughts not for the men, I would surely have gone to my room for a proper treatment."
Apologetically, the Medic went about gentler than he was before. Then, with a look that is almost in disgust as it is surprised, the Medic looked at the CS.
"Well, what's it then?" asked the CS.
Shaken by the question, the Medic went back to his task. Soon, a bulging white patch of bandage added more colour to Zambek, apart from those on his tunic.
Finished, the Medic hurriedly went down the long staircase to tend the wounded lying and sitting all the way down. The CS, followed him down and halfway through, he asked "Well, was it bad?"
"As bad as a small graze can be," replied the Medic, almost in a laugh now.
"You mean, its nothing serious?"
"Look!" said the CS. "The old man is not known for his name for nothing you know."
"And what name would that be?" asked the CS.
"He's like a goat, the old man is. He goes bleating at anything he thinks alarming, and yet fancies himslef as a great hero like Gandhi; no other reason why we call him Zambekkkk".