Tired Mughal General's report from the Field
A good-hearted story about defeating the only enemy I have ever had.
Myself.
The elephant would no longer heed my commands, if it ever did.
I urged it to slow down. I pleaded with it. I promised it riches, I promised it plunder. I swore to give it all I possessed. It did not acknowledge me at all. If anything, it picked up speed as it rushed towards the frightened troops, trumpeting its war song and swinging its massive trunk.
It was well and truly out of control, and no surprise. It was always like this.
We had won many battles, the elephant and I. It had known so little defeat since we had been together. Experiencing only victory, had it become cocky? It had been trained for this before my time, years ago, by long-gone lore masters whose ghosts still haunt our home. Gone but not forgotten, unignorable. Their words still ring in my ears. “Rigor” they say. “The program”. “Stay the course”.
But something was different this time.
Earlier that evening around the fire the troops had been all smiles. “Fivepointoh!” they shouted. “Collegecredit!”. Their families, so proud of them, expected them not just to return home after the battle – but to bring home the spoils that battle provides. Now, as the battle drew closer, the troops once smiling faces were growing grim. One shouted “I’m tired!” “Where are my weapons?” cried another, having left them at home. “Can I leave early?” “My spear is too short! It needs an extension!” The spear was as long as it had always been, however. Perhaps the soldier had grown shorter? In any case, I tried to mend and modify their weapons from the back of the charging pachyderm, while implementing battle plans, sending messages to the troops, and correcting their strategy reports. Like the troops, I too had not slept, and was likely making mistakes. There were so many recruits in the Empire’s army, so many more than in years past, and the Empire had decided to cut back the number of generals due to the treasury being depleted. More and more and more was being asked of me. But! I am a good soldier for the Empire. I believe in the cause. And even though our King had been assassinated months earlier and we had been leaderless, I had held the troops together in our fortress while chaos had reigned in the streets of our capital.
Still riding, I put on a brave face for the troops. Why would the elephant not slow? I tried to get it to listen, but to no avail. The wind was rushing past my ears, and all I could do was hold on tighter and tighter lest I fall from what seemed height enough to break my neck on landing. Was it growing larger? I know it was not this high when I climbed on its back…
It trumpeted “Victory!” and “Never surrender!” It cried out for higher and higher numbers of enemies. “Wait! Who are our foes?” I shouted, but it could not hear me above the cacophony of its monstrous blasts. There was nothing for it – I had no choice but to hold on in semblance of control. The troops deserved no less.
If I abandoned the war strategies laid out before me in times of old – plans that had always brought victory – would the troops survive the coming battle?
The troops could not fully understand. They had not been here before. For my part, I had been in the enemy fortress, seen their defenses. I had mapped out every entrance and exit. I had seen their walls and weapons. I knew the defenders personally. I knew their weaknesses and how to exploit them. How could the troops know these things? How could they know the amount of training it would take to scaffold those walls – to bombard the gates – to engage in combat with enemies so well guarded but so old they had likely forgotten their original purpose? Like me, they had fought this same battle so many times. Unlike me and the troops under my command, they were confident and rested.
I could just make out the walls of the fortress on the horizon. The elephant, perhaps sensing the closeness of the final battle, picked up speed and smashed through the trees, the buildings, our lives. The troops rushed beside me, barely being able to keep pace with the thundering war machine. As I clung on for my life, I looked back at the troops to see that some had fallen from their horses. A few had simply dismounted. “Follow me! The end grows close! We will make it!” I shouted. “Victory is ours!” Many, as tired as they were, took heart and picked up speed, holding aloft the Red Banners so important for reasons lost to time.
Some could not hear me due to their earbuds.
I urged it to slow down. I pleaded with it. I promised it riches, I promised it plunder. I swore to give it all I possessed. It did not acknowledge me at all. If anything, it picked up speed as it rushed towards the frightened troops, trumpeting its war song and swinging its massive trunk.
It was well and truly out of control, and no surprise. It was always like this.
We had won many battles, the elephant and I. It had known so little defeat since we had been together. Experiencing only victory, had it become cocky? It had been trained for this before my time, years ago, by long-gone lore masters whose ghosts still haunt our home. Gone but not forgotten, unignorable. Their words still ring in my ears. “Rigor” they say. “The program”. “Stay the course”.
But something was different this time.
Earlier that evening around the fire the troops had been all smiles. “Fivepointoh!” they shouted. “Collegecredit!”. Their families, so proud of them, expected them not just to return home after the battle – but to bring home the spoils that battle provides. Now, as the battle drew closer, the troops once smiling faces were growing grim. One shouted “I’m tired!” “Where are my weapons?” cried another, having left them at home. “Can I leave early?” “My spear is too short! It needs an extension!” The spear was as long as it had always been, however. Perhaps the soldier had grown shorter? In any case, I tried to mend and modify their weapons from the back of the charging pachyderm, while implementing battle plans, sending messages to the troops, and correcting their strategy reports. Like the troops, I too had not slept, and was likely making mistakes. There were so many recruits in the Empire’s army, so many more than in years past, and the Empire had decided to cut back the number of generals due to the treasury being depleted. More and more and more was being asked of me. But! I am a good soldier for the Empire. I believe in the cause. And even though our King had been assassinated months earlier and we had been leaderless, I had held the troops together in our fortress while chaos had reigned in the streets of our capital.
Still riding, I put on a brave face for the troops. Why would the elephant not slow? I tried to get it to listen, but to no avail. The wind was rushing past my ears, and all I could do was hold on tighter and tighter lest I fall from what seemed height enough to break my neck on landing. Was it growing larger? I know it was not this high when I climbed on its back…
It trumpeted “Victory!” and “Never surrender!” It cried out for higher and higher numbers of enemies. “Wait! Who are our foes?” I shouted, but it could not hear me above the cacophony of its monstrous blasts. There was nothing for it – I had no choice but to hold on in semblance of control. The troops deserved no less.
If I abandoned the war strategies laid out before me in times of old – plans that had always brought victory – would the troops survive the coming battle?
The troops could not fully understand. They had not been here before. For my part, I had been in the enemy fortress, seen their defenses. I had mapped out every entrance and exit. I had seen their walls and weapons. I knew the defenders personally. I knew their weaknesses and how to exploit them. How could the troops know these things? How could they know the amount of training it would take to scaffold those walls – to bombard the gates – to engage in combat with enemies so well guarded but so old they had likely forgotten their original purpose? Like me, they had fought this same battle so many times. Unlike me and the troops under my command, they were confident and rested.
I could just make out the walls of the fortress on the horizon. The elephant, perhaps sensing the closeness of the final battle, picked up speed and smashed through the trees, the buildings, our lives. The troops rushed beside me, barely being able to keep pace with the thundering war machine. As I clung on for my life, I looked back at the troops to see that some had fallen from their horses. A few had simply dismounted. “Follow me! The end grows close! We will make it!” I shouted. “Victory is ours!” Many, as tired as they were, took heart and picked up speed, holding aloft the Red Banners so important for reasons lost to time.
Some could not hear me due to their earbuds.