I walk down the length of the little river with the lantern. According to my internal clock and my eyes, it'll be about five thirty. My squad's still asleep.

We're the middle of the forest so finding a clearing this big with its view of mountains and stony ground is a gorgeous miracle.

The hysteria hits me as I set the lantern down. I walk a few paces, crouch down and splash some water on my face with jerky movements.

Five are alive!

A laugh bubbles in throat.

Just five individuals from a platoon of seven squads.

I can't...

The tears I've been holding in for six days prick at my eyes again.

Six days since the battle.

Kendall, the head of our platoon,  had said this forest has trees about a hundred metres tall and they wouldn't be able to locate the small insurgency group from the air.

He was right, they couldn't.

So we were sent in. Only that thier numbers were underestimated.

We were outnumbered literally three to one. We had the training advantage but they had the numbers and home ground on their side.

My squad, Olive, like the other squads had twelve soldiers. We were specially trained in stealth, blending in. We got our name from the camouflage uniforms I designed, whose primary colour is olive.

It's why we survived.

Our lieutenant Kendall, had sent four of us to scope out their camp and report the number of men left in it.

It was none. They had all gone to the battle.

But by the time we got back, there was no one to receive the news. They were all dead.

Except Kyle, who was bleeding out from a bullet to the thigh. We patched him up as best as we could but if he doesn't get to a hospital soon, he'll lose his left leg.

We've been trying to alleviate the pressure on it so we're moving quite slow. Too slow.

And running out of supplies.

I don't want to believe that we survived the battle only to die in this big bush but it's looking bleak and bleary.

There's approximately one hundred and fifty thousand square kilometers and we are going the other, longer way than we came in so as not to run into what would be left of the rebel group.

I sit on the ground and sniff, rubbing at my nose.

And I'm tired.

Kendall didn't make it, Marie didn't make it. Abel, Cherie, Florian, Noah, Bell, Dennis, Gary, Kelly. No body else made it.

Only us, four men and their crying Sergent.

"Ma'am," someone calls softly. It's Kyle, the quiet, brown eyed man who joined my squad as a last minute replacement and insists on still calling me that. "We should get going. "

I nod but I stay where I am on the ground. It's just easier, less painful, to just... stop.

"We can't give up. We can't stop. We have to keep on moving." He stretches out a bandaged hand. "And lend a hand to those who are down even if we are battered, bruised and tired ourselves. "

The tears stinging my eyes fall. They roll down my face as I accept the hand and stand.

Shame washes through me. "I'm sorry, " I rasp.

"What for?"

"For crying when I'm... when you -"

"Nonsense, don't be. You're hurting too. "

He smiles down at me and pushes his blond hair behind his ears. "I'll leave you a moment and go wake them up." He then leaves with shuffling steps, without his crutches.

A cool wind plays with leaves and pushes my short hair all around my face.

I turn to see it lift the flame of the lantern up and out of the globe, making the vibrant orange reflect on its body. 

With a background of blue skies and mountains, it's absolutely beautiful.

I wipe the tears from my eyes. He's right. We'll keep on moving. And I'll do my best to make sure he can continue to.