"All rise for the national anthem," the radio anouncer spoke, loudly and crisply.
Dhav sat in his favorite folding lawn chair, handling a cigar in a rather phalic manner. He bit the tip off and spat.
"This cigar is a piece of . They shouldn't even try growing tobacco anywhere but the Incan Republic or Mexico." he said, puffing up.
Chand stared over at him acros the small space of the Officer's tent. "Don't fukken smoke em den." he said with a fake American accent.
The anthem played long windedly, made all "tinny" and metalic sounding by the old radio for several minutes.
"When is that old bastard Mongkut coming on? Last time I checked it was scheduled for 20:50, not goddamn midnight." a voice spoke.
"He'll speak when he speaks. He's the president now, afterall, and is a busy man, I guess?"
Another voice.
Commander Sun entered the tent, saluting with his left hand in the old British manner, a joke that had been going around the Officer's mess for about a week now. He hobbled over to a hideous neon green lawn chair, and slumped down.
The candlelight flickered as the wind picked up outside the tent. It was a quiet night.
"Mongkut's not been on yet, Poi. You haven't missed anything." Dhav said quietly.
It had been a quiet week. With the Republicans beat down so badly, the First Army had been given a nice quiet city to rot outside of for some well deserved rest.
"There was a radio in the jeep, I know." He lay his crutches down at his feet, and struggled to lift his legs onto the poker table turned beer-can -repository.
He continued.
"We're leaving China soon. Cushy as it's become, I'm getting bored. Operation Burbank or some such, very top secret. Nobody's wearing a wire now are they?"
The group chuckled. A spy in high regards with the Eighth Army had been ousted last week, and Poi liked to keep a nice atmosphere. Helped boost the morale.
Chand spat. "Where's Burbank happening? I hope we're not goin to friggin Japan. I'm kind of scared of those people. I heard they'd work to death for the state if the state told them to.
Uncomfortable chuckles now, before Dhav broke the relative silence.
"Let's hope we don't get shipped across Russia, like the Germans back in Barbarosa II." Dhav smiled, then went on. "I hope we go to India. I heard they got a big red light district. Freaky kama sutra stuff."
Poi spoke up now. "Come on, guys. Are you Officers or draftees? Show some self control." He hated stopping them, but he had to.
The radio stopped, and the dry anouncer came back.
"And now ladies and gentlemen, President of the Free Republic of Siam, Yui Mongkut."
The soft conversations and laughter died out among the half drunk poker players.
Dead silence until a calm, quiet voice spoke confidently.
"People of Siam, of Southeast Asia, and anyone listening. We have just received confirmation: we are at war. The United Kingdom of the Atlantic has, hours ago, made a public declaration of war against the Free States of Siam, the Japanese Empire, the Union of African States, and Siam's variou-"
"More goddamn war, more-", someone in the tent cut in.
"SHHH!".
"-llies. By the time this message hits the airwaves, 150,000 African, Iranian and German soldiers will have crossed the borders of the Neo-European Union. Theatres all over the globe have sparked up- including one not far from here, in Israel. In the eventuality that the war should come to southeast Asia or Siam, we are asking that families all over the continent please turn their lights and radios off, effectively blacking out major cities, to avoid urban destruction. Major subways will be shut down until the danger has passed. However, Trans-Siam Co. has assured it's passengers and this government that their subway lines will be given extra protection against the air raids that the-"
Poi turned the radio off.
"You think they'd tell us this before the general population." he remarked.
"Goddamn Mongkut. You didn't even know about this, Poi? Commander Poi Sun, the latest, the greatest, hero of Siam? He's got something coming to him soon, I'd bet. He's-"
"Hey, shut up, Ayano. There'll be no discontent here, so quit rattling your goddamn cage." Poi snapped.
His legs hurt. He had left them elevated for too long. He pulled them off the table too quickly, and they made an awful noise as they fell barely limply to the floor.
He sighed. Grabbing his crutches, he got up, and went towards the door, turning only to tell his captains goodnight.
"You're good men. Hand picked from my best divisions. I keep you with me, and I keep you close. Now stay outta trouble and don't burn the house down while I'm away." With that, he turned and stroed from the tent.
