Interview

The enemy warplanes flew in high over our main port. The pretty lady who ran the port was giving an interview to the BBC. It was then the jets released their bombs. Huge bangs echoed over the port as the facilities were blasted to oblivion. Our return 23mm cannon fire answered in a fullisade.

The camera kept rolling and the girl kept speaking. No way would an enemy air attack interrupt her! A flash and column of smoke zoomed upwards as the blast wave whooshed over the port authority girl, cameraman and interviewer. Bits of debris fell about; pitter pattering like a puppy’s footfall. Bigger bits of debris clattered down. The lady struggled to keep her composure.

The 23mm fired on full auto, an eerie noise. Their gun crew shouted at the distant jets, three miles above. Their shells would miss by miles. Where was our air force? Had all our Migs been shot down? Two flew overhead only yesterday.

More huge bomb detonations and a merchant ship drunkenly rolled turtle. Massive blasts hit a warehouse and toppled a crane. Still the interview went on. She was adamant that there was no military ships in harbour, no weapons of war in the warehouse, no army personnel nearby.

When asked about the anti aircraft gun by the quayside, the woman pointed upwards. 'Should we have hunting rifles against your jets? That gun there, it's the only gun in town. You're all aggressors. We're a peace loving nation.'

Just then, an errant 2,000lb laser guided bomb broke its lock. It landed between the 23mm cannon and girl being interviewed. Being a live feed, it was seen globally. All died, including the gun crew. It was a 'Nam. The beginning of the end of the attack on our country.

Militarily we lost but publically, our enemy lost. But why oh why did they go to war? Why? So many died...