Jared's hardened eyes scanned the horizon. The head rose off the landscape in waves, distorting faraway objects and causing even the hardiest anomals to scurry to the shelter of their shaded, earth cooled burrows. While an occasional lizard presented itself, daring to dart below the watchful eyes of the circling hawks overhead, most animals had long put themselves away from a nighttime of activity and were resting for the next night's hunt.

While those animals had yet been out in the night before, Jared had spent his time plotting. His desk was a collage of maps and charts and surveillance photos of the enemy camp taken the day before by adventurous scouts. Oh, the enemy was tricky, allright, but his mean had long prepared for this, with weapons caches strategically placed in proximity to the front, and entrenchments built to attack the enemy from the relative safety and securty of their bunkers.

Today would be a good day to die, Jared thought, as he pulled a drink from the tepid water carried in his canteen. Not quite cool enough to refresh, the water slid down his protesting throat, doing little more than washing the dust that coated the back of it into a thin mud that slid down to his stomach and settled with a thud.

Jared looked from beyond his sheltered vantage point, to his right and to his left, to the lieutenants that awaited his command. God they are young, Jared thought, too young to know the horrors that awaited them in the coming hours and coming moments. Although they were inexperienced, Jared did not for a moment doubt their ability. He had hand picked the soldiers for this raid, knowing full well that the slightest hesitation, the smallest mistake, could mean failure of the entire mission.

His hand raised firmly, a beacon that could be seen beyond the small mesquite tree that concealed his location. He held it firmly upwards, watching, waiting for the moment, checking their position.

Finally, the hand dropped and the men charged forward. The hard Texas dirt felt like concrete underneath their feet, which thudded like hooves across the plain to the enemy camp. As they crossed the small rise, they heard the cry of the lookout and they could hear the shouts of the enemy soldiers as they clamored for weapons, having not expected such a sudden and upnprovoked attack.

What happened next was a slaughter that would remain in the minds of these men the remainder of their years. Having caught the enemy soldiers off guard, they rushed the camp, raiding its valuables and taking prisoner those soldiers smart enough to surrender and live another day. The rest they slaughtered with reckless abandon and relish. This was what they had trained for and they would not let their mentors down this day.

The battle seemed over as quickly as it began, and the triumphant soldiers began carrying their newly captured goods home to their encampment, marching the enemy prisoners to the prison camps that awaited them. As they marched, they could hear the cries of their mothers calling them home for lunch. The rest of the battle would have to wait until later.