Just as the war against man ended, the war with nature began.
Stranded in a remote area, far away from any semblance of civilization or basic infrastructure, a new struggle to survive is now a constant and desperate reality. Just three days ago, another member of our dwindling group finally succumbed to his injuries, his mortal end quickened by the unforgiving, unrelenting elements of this place.
Miraculously, now perhaps, unfortunately, I made it through numerous enemy encounters with just minor wounds which have largely healed, only to be left in the direst of circumstances. I somehow share this inexplicable “luck” with practically everyone who is now resigned to these present, grim circumstances.
With our food and water supplies nearly depleted, we must rely on insufficient survival training that undoubtedly falls well short of what’s truly required for all of us to make it out alive. Our current headcount will certainly not remain the same, even as early as tomorrow. One or more will surely soon fall because we simply lack the necessary skills and resources.
Making matters worse, we are left with only rank and file, not one veteran leader among us. Without adept direction and organization, desperate personalities will unquestionably vie to take a head role, further threatening and breaking down whatever morale is left.
Our situation is far too severe for such anarchy, for any sort of internecine feud, regardless of how small or petty. But sadly, it’s not just about disposition or temperament. It’s about the bleak actuality so unceremoniously thrust upon us.
The last shots were fired over a week ago. And now, the unbearable, putrid stench of the dead reeks so badly, it is impossible to take a deep breath without suffering from emetic nausea.
Although, this is among the least of our harrowing predicaments. Nature, it seems, is far more a formidable foe than any human ingenuity or manmade invention. The wild boasts unparalleled ferocity that far exceeds anything any person could unleash. Under these unpropitious circumstances, we are at a serious disadvantage.
DAY 1
I have taken it upon myself to record as detailed an account as I can of our ordeal for the improved preparedness of future generations. Hopefully, this will provide them with pivotal information that can be used to their great benefit. For us, a better understanding of how to cope with the psychological aspect of such surroundings and practical wild survival application would have made all the difference. But, this is not the case and so we are left to our own pitiful devices.
This isn’t the way the war was supposed to go. We, and our adversaries, would have never imagined the conflict would spread so widely, into isolated, faraway locations such as this one. I can only guess, due to the extreme chaos, this place became strategic for its juxtaposed proximity and distance as a potential clandestine staging area. But clearly, no one at the very top fully understood its challenges in the least.
Being so far-flung, and hastily traveled, any resupply is weeks away – if any plans exist at all. Even if there are such plans, that would be too late to save us. We must rely on rationing what we have now and must also be particularly careful about foraging from the land.
In a more normalized conflict of occupation or even invasion, the enemy survivors could be of great help. But, all we faced are gone, now merely rotting corpses whose souls have been set free or condemned in the hereafter. To our deep regret, those combatants are of no use whatsoever. We cannot learn from them, whether through goodwill or hard lessons.
Even if the enemy dead were alive and able to break the language barrier, they would not be able to tell us a single thing about this place, because it is just as much a foreign land to them as it is to us. So, we know not which plants are edible and which may be poisonous, nor which water sources are safe to drink and which are not – creating a highly distressing situation.
The only bit of good news presently is that we don’t have to contend with our enemy any longer. Just like us, they were brought here in great haste, which means they too, even if still alive, could not count on any timely resupply. Although, if there were survivors among them, we could swallow our pride and surrender – at least we’d have a better chance of returning to civilization alive.
Another small thing in our favor, though riddled with uncertainty, is intuition. By the position of the sunrise and sunset, we have a rough idea of which direction is east and which is west. With these observations, the group has taken a vote in which direction to travel, though none of us know where it may lead. The only certainty is that we will surely die if we stay and any chance of survival is to walk out. We realize, though have not completely accepted, that not all of this will make it to the end of our escape from this hellish ordeal.
Our situation is complicated by our utter ignorance of where we are, in a very literal sense. Our group was only superficially briefed about the location and given the vaguest of missions – to find appropriate terrain for staging purposes. Unfortunately, we came in under dense fog, a condition that apparently is quite normal here and is present even as I write. For nearly five days, we made our way inland, our excursion slow and chaotic at best. This confusion and lack of preciseness about our coordinates make it virtually impossible for us to formulate an actionable plan now.
Given the dire circumstances of having such meager provisions and being woefully ill-equipped to forage from the wild, we made a most desperate pact, agreeing not to endanger any one of us through the rescue attempt of another – even if it meant certain death for the individual in peril.
No matter how much someone suffered or pleaded, we pledged to abstain from intervention for the good of the group. This agreement wasn’t made lightly, it was entirely necessary for the sake of survival. No one person at risk could be put above those with a chance to make it out alive.
So, tomorrow, come first light, we will begin our journey. Already, we have calculated rations, but do have plans to hunt, though we’re not yet certain what type of animals might be native. In a way, this is also good news – the last thing we need is to be surrounded by vicious predators. On the other hand, such a population would no doubt mean there is a healthy food chain and ecosystem, which could prove very useful.
Tonight, I will take the late watch, a bit selfish but strategic on my own part. It will allow me another opportunity to observe who is a light sleeper and who slumbers heavily. I could use this to my advantage if danger presents itself when I am asleep. Once I am relieved of watch, I’ll try to rest as much as possible, not for only my own sake but for the sake of the group, which will need well-rested individuals to forage and hunt along the way.
DAY 2
When I woke earlier this morning, our group number was one more short. But, unlike my prediction yesterday, there was no body left behind. Instead, an unlikely but extremely self-serving individual took more than his fair share of food and water on the final watch when everyone else was asleep. He must have concluded he’d have a better chance of making it out alone.
The afternoon went better than anyone had imagined, we made good progress through the late morning and well into the next hours. But that exertion took a toll. Now, as the sun starts to set, we have less strength to gather firewood and are too exhausted to hunt. Two men have gone off to forage for fruits and plants, to supplement our rations. Hopefully, they return with plenty – we will need a decent sleep, something nearly impossible on a mostly empty stomach.
We suspect, from our extensive time and travel today, there are very few (if any) animals here to catch, cook, and eat. And, although on a sizeable island, there do not appear to be any freshwater sources. If this is indeed true, it means we are in a much worse predicament, since the scoundrel who absconded away with precious provisions has left our party with considerably less.
If these current circumstances persist, we’ll have to eat even smaller portions, and lack of nutrition will surely take its toll much quicker as we must stay on the move. This is already difficult enough as the terrain is treacherous with dense underbrush obstructing any clear line of sight, concealing all potential dangers that would otherwise be obvious.
Additionally, the weather is turning, with the temperature falling considerably after sundown. Even in the peak of the noon hour, breath is still quite visible. This too, is extraordinarily worrisome, given that we are not equipped with warm clothing for harsh winter conditions and it seems that’s precisely what lies ahead in a very short time. Surely, just the temperature alone will take one or more lives.
Earlier this evening, the inevitable bickering began and quickly escalated into outright aggression. As I thought, there are personalities who want to be in a position of leadership. But, the group remains adamant that everyone in our small party is equal to the other, though this is clearly untrue. Some individuals are natural leaders, while others benefit from direction.
Without a leader, we have no structure, and that in itself is a hazard waiting to happen. Undoubtedly, that moment to come will do real harm and manifest in more ways than one way. When it does, we will face greater peril. As for tomorrow, it will be yet another day of unpredictability. The only certainty is we will struggle to stay alive.
DAY 3
We got underway just as daylight broke. It was considerably cooler than yesterday, the chill in the air waking us before dawn. After eating our rations, we set off in the same direction, defying the fog that started to set in during the mid-morning hours. When the clouds dissipated in the afternoon, we picked up our pace, but this didn’t last as we ran out of energy. It’s now quite obvious we’ll have to travel considerably slower because we simply do not have the nutritional intake necessary to walk even at a normal rate. By my own quick calculations, this will more than double our walk out.
Sometime about late afternoon, we came across the remains of the thief who deserted only two days ago. No food or water was on his person or around the immediate vicinity, leading us to believe he must have lost those provisions along his route, probably scavenged by animals in the interim.
His body bore foreboding signs, injuries that none of us could readily explain. The only probable clue was the position of his left foot relative to his leg. Though no bone protruded from the skin, there was swelling present and discoloration around the ankle. We could see these injuries as one in our party took off his shoes to remove his socks from his feet.
Then, another argument broke out. This time, over his clothing, particularly, his outer garments. The disagreement grew very contentious and again, certain individuals vied for leadership. The question of who is in charge is one that keeps cropping up, but once more, we came to an understanding that everyone is best served by us maintaining the status quo. Eventually, this will lead to a breakdown in cohesion. In all reality, everyone knows such capitulation is an arrangement that is untenable.
As for myself, I do not aspire to any such position, especially in these dire circumstances. I also know I am not alone in wishing the end to come quickly and painlessly. It would relieve me of this great burden, the uncompromising instinct to push on, even in the face of futility. But, it does give me a tiny bit of hope I will survive.
It likewise fills me with dread as I am confident whoever shares the same sentiment may not share the same level of compassion. Though we’ve all made this morbid entente, I detect there are individuals who will take advantage of its rigorous indifference for their own gain. This is a logical conclusion, given we are nearly out of food and rationing cannot be any scanter than it already is. If we do not successfully forage and hunt tomorrow, there is no possible chance of any of us making it out alive.
DAY 4
Fog rolled in during the morning twilight but this time, it did not lift as it did yesterday. Instead, it seemed to intensify, we could barely make out the sun and this put our direction into serious question. The mist grew so thick, it produced an impenetrable murkiness, forcing us to stop. We took the opportunity to forage fruits and plants and managed to find what we believed were edibles. But, no one was eager to try any of them for fear of unknowingly ingesting toxins.
Too hungry not to eat, we took a vote by drawing straws. The short one had to take a bite, while the rest of us waited to see if there were any adverse effects. To our great delight, we detected no signs of such and we all picked as many as well could, stuffing the berries into our pockets until there was room for no more. We ate and ate, the juices running down our chins and staining our clothes.
But, it still was insufficient. We needed protein badly for strength. Unfortunately, this is all we had encountered and so we took as much as we could with us, just in case there wasn’t any more along the way.
The fog persisted, so very dense, it was impossible to see just feet ahead, and it lead to yet another death. He stumbled over the terrain, causing him to tumble over the edge of a steep dropoff. As he clung to the side, he pleaded and pleaded for assistance, for someone, anyone, to stoop near the edge, reach down, and pull him to safety.
Although I wanted to act, I could not, nor could any one of us. If we did, we risked the same fate. I have little doubt that awful, blood-curdling scream that defiantly sustained through the fatal plummet will forever haunt me.
Even if one of us attempted a rescue, no one had the strength to pull him back up. It would have taken a team effort. In the damp, slippery mud, it was likely we’d slide right over the edge, one by one until someone let go and stopped the carnage.
We justified our macabre indolence as we carefully resumed our walk through the thick brume, citing the immeasurable risk to the rest of the party and the callus benefit of one less person to feed. The latter rationalization did not excuse our consciences, but it did give us an excuse to ignore our better instincts.
DAY 5
This morning began with a bit of good fortune. Early in our journey, we came across water and quickly tested it for potability. It was brackish at best, but also home to some much-needed catches. It gave us a break from foraging for plants and fruits, as well as a chance to enjoy real sustenance, though it tasted terrible. Regardless, it did provide us with a real meal, so we caught and cooked as much as we could.
This slowed our progress significantly, though we had little choice. By the early afternoon, the temperatures had reached their peak, at the warmest, still cold enough to see breath clearly when the fog finally evaporated. So, we thought the white meat would keep at least until the evening, perhaps the next morning.
Later in the day, we came across more berries and picked as many as we could carry. They helped stretch our rations even further and were much tastier than any of the cooked catch. But, this time, the amount collected was unmistakably smaller. Nonetheless, we were happy to have stumbled on another supply, albeit not as abundant as before.
All in all, we made good progress, considering our unplanned stop to catch, cook, and forage once more. But, it also called attention to our poor predicament and we still had almost no idea of how much further we needed to go. It was this dour realization that dampened our spirits yet again – as if we’d not already endured more than enough.
Under such stress and with no real hope, an argument erupted. At first, it was merely a disagreement but it ballooned into a shouting match between aggressors who took to violence. I and two others intervened, breaking up the fight, sending each man to their sleeping place.
During the darkest hours of the night, we were suddenly awakened by a strange sound, only to discover one of us had become so desperate he sat upon his former good friend in the pitch darkness, strangling the life out of his comrade to steal the rest of his ration, and eat it. Then, in utter horror, as he swallowed the last bite, a latent, fatal allergy erupted – an anaphylactic reaction.
He clenched his throat and beat his chest, desperately gasping for air as his windpipe swelled to an asphyxiated close. There was nothing any of us could do and within mere moments, he collapsed onto the ground.
The indiscriminate choking weighed heavy and I barely slept – not from the eerily familiar and persistent hunger pangs – but the deeply unnerving realization we were up against a primordial adversary of limitless proportions. An enemy that acted out of pure instinct, with no compassion, totally devoid of altruistic characteristics.
Nature does not possess any care or concern, it simply lives in the present, in the now. Whatever obstacles it faces, it greets with total impulse. There is no reason nor judgment, no perception beyond the moment. Nature takes life as routinely as it gives it and that is the stark truth about the wild – there is no remorse, only survival. And, we were fast becoming one with this untamed, powerful ubiquity through our own selfish intent.
The line between human and wild was being unforgivingly erased, one person at a time, one life at a time, one tragedy at a time. Worse yet, we were willingly giving into our darkest compulsions and there was simply no way back for such naive, ignorant capitulation. All this time, we regarded man as the enemy. But now, it’s become clear we are indeed up against something much more terrifying.
Nature makes no accommodation for interlopers or intruders. The wild simply, ruthlessly, pushes anything out that does not belong in its natural order, without so much as a thought or single consideration. To nature, everything is disposable, nothing is irreplaceable, nothing is worthy of second thought.
DAY 6
The morning start came much later today. All of us are so exhausted, we woke well after dawn and decided to get underway as quickly as possible, electing to eat our first ration of the day as we walked. The mood was downright disheartening, each of us fully realized the odds were so against us, we had nothing to do but bide our time and the best way to pass the day was to stay on the move.
Although our pace was so slow, it wasn’t even likely we’ll make it back to where we came onto the island. Perhaps, one or two would survive that long, but ironically, it wouldn’t be enough. Whoever made it to the shoreline would probably die soon after, particularly if he could not successfully forage, fish, or hunt right away.
Ideally, if any of us made it that far, there would be a resupply or rescue at the ready. Still, that wasn’t at all probable, given the circumstances under which we were dispatched – with very poor planning and too few supplies – as if it were an undeclared suicide mission.
It seems we were betrayed by our own side because no responsible administration would act in this way. This must be the case since none of our materials contain basic necessities for such an excursion. This became all the more obvious as the day went by when we lost another member of our waning group.
During our walk, when we stopped to forage again, a startled scream broke the silence. He suffered some type of venomous bite, by what, we didn’t know. He never saw the creature and due to his malnutrition and poor physical condition, the strike was simply way too ambiguous to identify with any degree of accuracy. But, within a couple of hours, he showed telltale signs of being poisoned – labored breathing, profuse sweating, vomiting, and weakness throughout his body.
Because of his wretched condition, the venom coursed quickly through his body, wreaking havoc on his internal organs. By his own request, we left him behind and continued on our way, only making it a few more miles before sundown.
DAY 7
Today started with a bittersweet discovery. Immediately after waking, we noticed one of us missing and fanned out to look for him. He wasn’t far from our makeshift camp, lying lifeless in dense underbrush, his body mutilated by some type of wild animal – perhaps a pack of wolves.
By this time, we had become accustomed to stripping the body of its usable materials, such as any unconsumed rations, clothing, and anything of use. As we departed from our overnight camp and walked away from our most recently fallen colleague, it became all too clear we no longer grieved or honored our dead.
Although it alarmed us that we were now in the territory of predators, it also informed us about the makeup of the ecosystem. We were indeed on an island inhabited by predatory creatures, which meant there was sufficient prey to support such a food chain. Still, we didn’t have any specifics. And, we had not yet come across any of its prey items.
Since its prey must exist, we concluded that perhaps why we hadn’t seen or detected it yet was because we were simply out of range. But apparently, we were on its hunting grounds, and by vigilantly staying on the lookout, we would no doubt stumble upon either the predator or its prey. Either would give us a chance to hunt and indulge in much-needed protein.
As we made our way through the wild, slowly and quietly as possible, we had great hope we’d eventually come across a prey item or the predator who attacked and killed one of us. But, the more distance we covered – which wasn’t really much at all – no such sighting happened. No remnants of earlier kills. No tracks or scat.
The absence of these and more clues perplexed us greatly. It also served to discourage in the extreme. Any hope of hunting solid protein vanished as the sun began to set. Nevertheless, we took turns, as usual, standing watch – just in case the predator or prey was nocturnal. We even left a little scrap of food out but it was still in the same place the next morning.
DAY 8
As dawn broke, we looked yet again for prey or predator, with no luck whatsoever. We began to question our sanity and entertained the possibility we did not actually witness what we saw the day before. This was logically plausible, given our lack of nutrition and endless exertion. Perhaps, we were becoming delusional, suffering from hallucinations.
Since these psychological anomalies were most likely not real, we came to the more sensible conclusion that the prey stayed hidden in the presence of foreign beings, and the predator was also giving our group a wide berth in order to hunt unfettered and undetected. This was the only sound explanation but one that robbed us of any hope we’d catch either predator or prey and hence, were still without a meaty protein source.
Still, we continued our trek and hoped without good reason, that we’d somehow come across another food source. Late in the day, we stumbled across a very welcome surprise. It began with a faint sound of rushing water – almost inaudible. We followed the sound, although it took us off our direction.
Eventually, we came to a waterfall, easily one hundred or more feet high. We quickly tested the water, which was clear and cool to the touch. Best of all, we could drink from it, though the current created by the cascade was so powerful, we dared not jump in for fear of drowning.
We immediately knelt down, filled our canteens to the brim, and clumsily gulped down mouthful after mouthful. We made crude carry reservoirs from raincoats we had taken from the dead along the way. Though not perfect, it was good enough to give us a much larger supply of drinkable water.
As we filled any receptacle we could carry, one man lost his grip on his canteen and it fell into the water. Panicked that he would lose it, he hurriedly reached for it, causing him to lose his balance and fall into the powerful churn. In an instant, he was drug under the surface without a trace. His gurgling drowned out by the sound of the rushing water as he was helplessly pulled under – a sobering reminder that nature is entirely antithetical to compassion.
This time, the death of yet another brother-in-arms raised a very unusual emotion in all of us – we did not feel grief or pity, but rather, collective anger. Angry he took with him a fresh supply of water. Angry over precious wasted food rations. Angry, a useable set of clothes had been lost. The brooding slowly but surely turned to bitter resentment, given that he enjoyed a quick death and we were left behind to continue to suffer the painful, prolonged horrors of survival – a very cruel irony.
DAY 9
This morning, we returned to our previous course, leaving behind the detour that led us to the waterfall. Just before noon, we came across ambiguous tracks, distorted by rain that fell heavily during the early morning hours just before dawn. The impressions led to a rock formation with an opening, a cave that contained bits of what looked like animal bone, proving once again some type of predator definitely inhabited the island, but we still did not know the species.
Curious, we quickly removed any excess clothing, put our canteens and rations aside, and fashioned a set of makeshift torches. One by one, we filed inside. But, a strong draft blew out the flames, leaving us in the dark with only the dim light coming from outside, illuminating the entrance.
We exited the cave and this time, we fashioned the torches together to make one giant illuminant. Next, four men reentered the cave, the lead carrying the oversized torch, and the rest positioned themselves about ten feet apart, forming a chain to relay information about the cavern from one to the other and to the rest who remained outside.
The draft died down as the men went back inside, allowing the lead to walk deeper into the cave. He found nothing but empty space and no apparent exits in any direction. As he explored further into the system, the chain moved to keep the relay going, and eventually, all of us were back inside the expansive rock cavity. The lead described what he saw – the space grew increasingly narrow, ending in a deep vertical drop. As he approached the edge of the shaft, the draft suddenly returned, extinguishing the flame.
All we heard was an echoing shriek, followed by what sounded like a blunt thud. The man nearest the lead reported back he could not hear nor see anything. Without the aid of a torch, we could no longer explore the cave safely. After we exited, we waited for several tense minutes, but the lead did not reemerge. It was clear he’d fallen down the pit to his death.
We gather up everything he left behind and set back out on our route, walking for hours before we had to stop to rest in a small meadow-like clearing. The scenery around us was gorgeous, but the temperature was falling fast to a new low. As the daylight waned, I came to realize this place embodied such a stark irony – its beauty was only surpassed by its savagery.
DAY 10
At dawn, the temperature was so cold, we awakened to an uncontrollable shiver. With only sun and movement to warm us, we resumed our walk as briskly as we could manage in our seriously weakened conditions. Since our rations were almost depleted, we took to foraging along the way, consuming whatever we knew to be edible, but it was still not nearly enough.
The hunger pains grew so intense, they were nothing short of paralyzing. But, we believed we were nearing the coast, bringing our long and treacherous journey to an end. At least we would be in a much better position, giving us the possibility to build a large signal fire and to fish – providing both much-needed warmth and sustenance. Plus, a welcome break from exhaustive, perilous travel.
Late in the day, hours past afternoon, we could hear the rush of water, as waves crashed onto the shore. The sound lifted our spirits so much, we hastened our pace, quickly making our way toward the shore. When we reached the edge of the island, what we saw immediately through us into total despondency. Huge rocks lined the shore, with monstrous-sized waves crashing over them.
We looked at each other in disbelief, as the realization hit hard that we had veered substantially off course, walking nearly perpendicular to our insertion point, which was undoubtedly many miles away. Worse yet, there was a large ravine between us and where we originally came in. Meaning we’d either have to walk nearly a third of the way back to go around it or take our chances trying to traverse it – neither was a good nor particularly plausible option in our present circumstances.
But, we had no choice. If we stayed and built a signal fire, there was no way any ship could approach. Moreover, we would not be able to paddle out to anything offshore, as the current coming in was entirely too strong in the wrong direction. We had to pass through the massive ravine or walk around it to the other side where we were initially dropped off.
Assessing the landscape, we decided it would be too dangerous to enter the ravine. Even if we survived the way down, there was no way to climb back up on the other side. Then, someone made a bold suggestion – wade out into the water and swim around the opening, thus greatly cutting down the distance. It was extraordinarily risky, but a chance we had to take given our pathetic situation. We could not realistically traverse the ravine, nor did we have the strength to walk so far back and around it.
Regardless, it had grown too late in the day, so we decided to camp and rest. We broke into two groups, a foraging party and another to set up camp and build a fire. It was during this time that one member of the group walked deep into the woods, but he never reemerged. We could not look for him due to the pitch darkness and because not one of us had any idea in which direction he went. We thought that by morning, he would reappear and join us once again.
DAY 11
This morning, we found our missing man. When we set out to gather more wood to refresh the fire for warmth and forage for edible plants, he was found hanging lifeless from a tree, deep in the woods. Again, we were faced with the grim task of taking another set of outer clothing and a canteen. One less person meant chances of wading out and swimming around the ravine were slimmer – especially going alone, one by one.
So, we formed a hand-on-hand daisy chain, locking ourselves together to help withstand the force of the powerful current. As we set out into the water, surging waves crashed over us, thrusting our bodies against the surface of the rocks. Fortunately, the tide had slightly changed direction and was pushing us to the other side. Had the tide rolled the other way against us, we would not have been able to wade across at all. Though the current did give us some assistance, it inflicted a number of cuts and bruises.
One man was so badly hurt, he suffered broken bones, his open wounds bled profusely into the sand, and he succumbed to his injuries in just moments. Only three us of had made it, while nature had mercilessly taken yet another life.
Having sustained a number of contusions and abrasions, we acted quickly, rendering first aid as best we could. Then, we hastily gathered our supplies and begin to walk along the shoreline, stopping during midday to fish and forge from the nearby woods.
The catch this time was much easier than it ever had been and the edible plant life was also abundant. It provided us with enough nourishment and strength to walk the rest of the day and eventually, to set up camp and build a large signal fire. The flames were extremely warm and so large, they no doubt could be seen as far out as the horizon.
DAY 12
In the wee hours of the morning, before dawn, I woke to stoke the fire. As I threw fallen branches into the flames, I thought I could faintly see the vague outline of a ship under the moon and stars. But, it was too distant for me to be sure and I dared not rouse the remaining two with false hope – it could have merely been an optical illusion or simply my fervent imagination. Then, as daylight broke, I could clearly see the unmistakable appearance of a vessel sailing straight at the island.
I let out a joyful yell, furiously waving my arms, jumping up and down, waking my companions, who were ecstatic to take in such a welcome sight. We held burning branches way above our heads, the embers falling all around, some burning our clothes while others extinguished in the surf. We were being saved, not by a rescue mission, but by a merchant ship that was blown off its course overnight – a matter of pure coincidence and not purpose.
Nevertheless, we didn’t hesitate to wade waist-deep into the water to get aboard as quickly as possible. But, our unhealed wounds bled and before we approached the ship, sharks started to circle. We scrambled in a nervous panic to reach the ropes dangling from the side. Still, our haste to get out of the water wasn’t fast enough. Only two of us made it onto the deck, the sharks attacked the last man treading, tearing his limbs from his torso in a frenzied gorge.
Later on, the ship’s cook brought us a small meal, some clean water, and the captain gave us half a bottle of rum. We ate every single bit, gulped down the water, and drank until late evening, delighted with our good fortune. Our long, treacherous ordeal had finally come to an end, or so we believed.
DAY 13
The next morning, as the vessel made its way into port, a warship bore down in the middle of an emerging squall. The belligerents boarded and took prisoners, but not before several of us escaped. However, the captors pursued, caught up, and took us into a nearby harbor. During the attempted getaway, I was separated from my formerly stranded colleague.
Now, I was a prisoner of war, our old adversaries had returned with new allies. They threw us into a penal camp and I thought this was no doubt the end. It would be there I’d surely die. But, in the middle of the night, our compatriots launched a counterattack to liberate us.
DAY #?
The last thing I remembered was a flash of bright light and the sound of an explosion. Shortly after I returned to consciousness, I was told by the attending physician that my case was the most extreme he had ever personally seen or even read about.
Then, he quietly sat down beside my bed, and reluctantly informed me the conflict wasn’t over and that any able person, even those previously severely injured and seriously wounded, was required to return to fight.
And so now, though I’d survived an intense, intimate war with nature, I had to resume the war against man.
