Sunny saluted the Colonel, his hand snapping up to his forehead in a crisp, precise motion.
The Colonel, a grizzled veteran with a stern expression, returned the salute. "At ease, Captain," he said, his voice firm but not unkind.
Sunny relaxed, his shoulders easing down from their rigid posture. He took a seat in the chair in front of the Colonel's desk, his eyes scanning the room.
The Colonel handed him a stick of cigarette from a pack on his desk. "Smoke?" he asked.
Sunny hesitated for a moment. He didn't often smoke, but there was something about the Colonel's offer that made him accept. Maybe it was the tension of the mission still lingering in his system, or maybe it was just the Colonel's kindly gesture.
Whatever the reason, Sunny took the cigarette and lit it up, inhaling the acrid smoke into his lungs. It was a harsh, unfamiliar taste, but it seemed to calm his nerves somehow.
The Colonel watched him, a small, knowing smile on his face. "So, Captain," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "Tell me about the mission." How did it go?
"I'm afraid it was a success, sir," Sunny said, his voice steady. "But we lost seven good men."
As he spoke, Sunny's face fell, and he felt a pang of guilt and sadness. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was responsible for their deaths, that he had somehow failed them.
The Colonel's expression turned somber, and he nodded slowly. "I see," he said, puffing on his cigarette. "We'll make sure they get a proper burial."
Sunny hesitated, feeling a lump form in his throat. "I'm afraid that won't be possible, sir," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "We only have three intact bodies. The others...the others were pulverized by a mine."
The Colonel's eyes widened, and he let out a slow breath. "I see," he repeated, his voice heavy with emotion. "Well, we'll do what we can to honor their memory."
Sunny nodded, feeling a sense of gratitude towards the Colonel. He knew that the Colonel understood the weight of his responsibility, the guilt that came with losing men under his command.
The Colonel's words hung in the air, and Sunny felt a surge of resistance. He shook his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I don't need a leave, sir," he said quickly, his voice firm but polite.
But the Colonel's expression remained unchanged. He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together as he regarded Sunny with a piercing gaze. "Sunny, you've been avoiding leave since this war started," he said, his voice low and even. "You've been running on fumes for months, and it's starting to show."
Sunny felt a twinge of guilt, and his eyes dropped slightly. He knew the Colonel was right - he had been pushing himself hard for a long time, and he was starting to feel the strain. The lack of sleep, the constant stress, the weight of responsibility - it was all taking its toll.
But he was reluctant to take a leave, feeling like he was abandoning his men when they needed him most. He thought about all the tasks that still needed to be done, all the missions that still needed to be completed. He couldn't just leave, not now.
The Colonel seemed to sense Sunny's hesitation. He leaned forward, his eyes locked on Sunny's. "You're no good to me or your men if you're running on empty, Sunny," he said, his voice firm but persuasive. "You need to take a break, recharge your batteries. You need to take care of yourself."
Sunny felt a surge of frustration. He knew the Colonel was right, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was letting his men down. He thought about all the times he had pushed himself to the limit, all the times he had put his men's needs before his own.
But as he looked into the Colonel's eyes, he saw something there that gave him pause. He saw concern, compassion, and understanding. He saw a deep awareness of the toll that war takes on those who fight it.
Slowly, Sunny's resistance began to crumble. He felt a weight settle onto his shoulders, a weight that he had been carrying for far too long. He knew that he couldn't keep going on like this, not without breaking down completely.
Finally, he nodded. "Yes, sir," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll take the leave."
The Colonel's face relaxed into a warm smile. "Good, Sunny," he said. "You need it. Now get out of here and get some rest. You're no good to me or your men if you're not taking care of yourself."
As Sunny walked into the camp, he was met with a somber atmosphere. The remaining seven men of his team were gathered together, their faces etched with grief and exhaustion. The weight of their loss hung heavy in the air, and Sunny could feel it pressing down on him like a physical force.
He took a deep breath and approached his men, his eyes scanning their faces. "I know how you're feeling," he said, his voice low and rough with emotion. "I feel it too. The loss of our comrades... it's a blow that hits us all deeply."
The men looked up at him, their eyes red-rimmed and puffy from lack of sleep and tears. Sunny could see the pain and sadness etched on their faces, and it tore at his heart.
"But we can't let their sacrifice be in vain," he continued, his voice firming. "They died trying to save people, trying to make a difference. They died heroes."
The men looked at each other, and Sunny could sense a slight shift in their mood. It wasn't happiness, exactly - how could it be, when they had lost so much? - but it was a sense of relief, of release.
"I think we should celebrate their actions," Sunny said, his voice a little stronger now. "We should honor their memory by remembering the good they did, the lives they saved."
The men nodded slowly, and Sunny could see the tension in their bodies begin to ease. It was a small step, maybe, but it was a start.
"We'll get through this together," Sunny said, his voice filled with conviction. "We'll get through this, and we'll come out stronger on the other side."
The men nodded again, and this time, there was a glimmer of hope in their eyes. It was a small spark, but it was enough to give Sunny the sense that they would be okay, that they would get through this terrible time and emerge stronger, more resilient, and more united than ever.