Little Blue Dot

I followed the big blue arrow for days until finally I arrived at the squiggly black line of the front. What I saw there shocked me to the very core. Our little blue dots were outnumbered by their little red dots almost two to one and casualty figures were skyrocketing. The force depletion was terrible.

My unit was assigned the task of leading the way for a smaller blue arrow to cut across the enemy’s flank. After our little blue dot had gone deep into enemy territory, other little blue dots would follow our little blue arrow and drive a wedge between the little red dots on the left part of the squiggly line and the little red dots on the right part of the squiggly line. The plan was crazy and we all knew it, but our orders were clear and we had no choice but to follow them. Besides we reasoned, young fools that we were, it was better to lose our unit in one glorious dash against the enemy flank than to sit lamely at the squiggly line while attrition whittled us to nothing.

The plan was doomed almost from the start. As we made our approach, the little red dots started shifting position and we didn’t know why. Then I saw the little black boxes and my heart sank to my shoes. Fortifications! Damn, how had we missed that? It didn’t matter now. With one piece of bad intel, our job had gone from difficult to damn near impossible, but we couldn’t turn back. Not when there were half a dozen little blue dots behind us that needed the path clear. Not when there were so many red dots just waiting to rain down upon us in our flight. No, we had to press on. We had take the little black boxes from the vicious red dots. There was no other choice.

I’ll never forget the nauseating mix of fear and courage I felt as I rushed toward the little black boxes. The little blue arrow at my back didn’t feel so little now. Now, it was the biggest thing in the world. Nothing mattered more, and the little red dots hiding behind their little black boxes looked so tiny in comparison. My eyes did not notice the horrible attrition all around me. My ears ignored the screeches and booms of the force multipliers crashing down upon us. My nose paid no heed to the heady scents brought on by rising casualties and shrinking morale. I saw only the sights of glory. I heard only the sounds of victory. I smelled only the smells of peace. Only later, in my dreams, in my nightmares, would I remember what came next.

I remember seeing a little red arrow rising in the distance. I remember thinking how much larger it was than my puny blue arrow. Then I saw where it was coming from. They had come from the blue side of the squiggly black line. Our front had fallen. The long line of blue dots had been crushed. Then I was fleeing. Our disorderly retreat quickly turned into a route, and there was nothing I could do but watch in horror as little blue dots disappeared around me. I don’t know how my little blue dot made it out of there, and sometimes I wish we hadn’t because, after that day, none of us felt much like being a little blue dot anymore.