Middle Eastern tyrants

Chapter 247 "Planting the Flying Military Flag on Haifa Soil"

"Reporting to the Marshal, we have captured Lieutenant General Oltra, commander of the Fifth Army in Zion, and Admiral Elizer, commander of the Zion Navy."

When the news of the victory at the front reached the command post, the entire staff was silent for a moment, then erupted in deafening cheers!
The long-suppressed tension was instantly ignited. Everyone hugged or high-fived each other to celebrate their victory. At this point, the balance of the war had irreversibly tipped in their favor.

Even Lu Lin couldn't help but smile slightly.

A gentle, fragrant breeze wafted by, and Yehena, the orderly, rushed up, hugged his neck, and kissed him hard on the cheek.

"We succeeded, Marshal!"

Lu Lin's face flushed red from this unexpected turn of events, while his subordinates cheered enthusiastically from all around.

Fahd was the one shouting the loudest.

"cough!"

Lu Lin cleared his throat, his expression hardening once more, his voice regaining its usual authority. He issued a new order to Lieutenant Harry on the other end of the radio: "Now is not the time to celebrate. I order your unit to immediately use the captured enemy high-ranking officers to take over or forcibly activate the city's broadcasting system. Have Oltra and Elize personally record the ceasefire order, and broadcast it throughout the city in Hebrew and Arabic. Make sure every Zion soldier still resisting knows this!"

"Yes, Marshal! Mission accomplished!" Harry's response came firmly and powerfully from the other end of the radio.

Lu Lin then turned his head and glanced at the staff officer in charge of communications: "Immediately contact Colonel Abbas of the 'Viper' column and order his armed helicopter unit to conduct low-altitude deterrent patrols in two-plane formations over the main airspace of the city. Remember, it is deterrence."

"understand!"

Lu Lin finally fixed his gaze on Bandar: "Order the ground armored forces to take full control of Haifa and conduct an armed parade along the main road in full combat formation. The purpose is to show everyone that the city now belongs to the Arabs."

General Bandar pressed his cap to his increasingly thinning forehead, stood up, and said, "Don't worry, my lads have been waiting impatiently!"

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

The artillery fire ravaged Boulevard again and again. Behind a makeshift bunker, veteran Joshua Levy spat out a mouthful of dirt, with a group of raw recruits whose faces were covered in mud and sweat behind him.

A few dozen meters away, a group of fully armed Shuangzhi infantry platoons were approaching step by step under the cover of tanks.

The wars of recent years have drastically reduced the number of veterans in Zion, especially the defeats in Damascus and the Golan Heights, which cost Zion more than 60,000 experienced veterans.

Although Hilbert's order for a "general mobilization" caused the Zion forces to surge to 600,000, the infantry squad, like Joshua's, consisted of children who had only completed basic training and were hastily sent to the battlefield.

Their understanding of the war was limited to the "bright future" depicted by politicians and populist media in the rear.

Joshua huddled in the corner behind the house, the firepower from the Twins pressing down on them so much that they could barely lift their heads.

At that moment, behind the ruins on the other side of the street, a young soldier from the next platoon was frantically gesturing at them, pointing to the grenades and explosive packs on their bodies.

Joshua saw the fervor and determination on the young man's face.

"Don't move! Stay still!!"

He shouted warnings amidst the gunfire, but the recruits behind him quickly threw several grenades and a heavy explosive charge at him, giving Eliezer a thumbs-up and shouting, "Well done!!"

The young soldier then nimbly used the building ruins as cover to flank the M60A1, which was slowly advancing and spitting fire.

Joshua turned his back, unable to bear watching any longer.

A moment later, he heard a voice from afar shout, "For Zion!"

Then came a series of rapid, popping rifle shots—only a few—and finally, a muffled thud that wasn't too loud.

However, the roar of the tank's engine only paused for a moment before it started again, getting closer and closer.

Failed.

The recruits gave their lives for nothing more than a pointless explosion.

Just as Joshua was about to change his magazine, a new recruit named Naphtali suddenly lunged at him to snatch the grenade from his waist.

"What do you want to do?!" Joshua grabbed his wrist tightly.

"Of course we'll blow it up! Let's continue our unfinished business!" Naphtali's voice was sharp with excitement.

Joshua stared at the youthful face, which was completely consumed by fervor, and for a moment he was in a daze.

How old is he?

Fourteen or fifteen?

At this age, they should be in classrooms or on playgrounds, not in these ruins, vying to carry out suicide missions.

Just then, a piercing electrical noise tore through the city's airspace, followed by a voice that was all too familiar, yet now sounded incredibly heavy, broadcasting through the city's pervasive public address system:
"I am Lieutenant General Altra, Commander of the Fifth Army... I order all Zion armed forces personnel to immediately cease all resistance, lay down their weapons, and await orders from the Arab coalition... We have lost. Repeat, the war is over. Stop the unnecessary bloodshed. The Zion army has signed the Geneva Convention; as long as you obey orders, you will receive humane treatment..."

In an instant, all the new recruits behind the cover were stunned, looking at each other with blankness and disbelief on their faces.

Joshua immediately grabbed the radio and frantically called out, "Can you hear me? Can you hear me? This is 'Mole-14'! Command, please respond if you hear me!"

However, all that answered him was a hissing noise.

Joshua's heart sank. In fact, based on his judgment, the voice on the radio was probably their commander-in-chief.

An indescribable sense of immense frustration spread through me.

At the same time, the roar of the tanks outside stopped, followed by a shout in Hebrew: "Listen up, you inside! You have received the order! Come out immediately with your hands raised and place your weapons where we can see you! Surrender and you will not be killed! Those who resist will be killed without mercy!"

Resentment and humiliation instantly surged across recruit Omir's face. Overwhelmed by anger, he took advantage of Joshua's momentary lapse in attention and blindly fired several shots in the direction of the shout!
"What are you doing?!" Joshua exclaimed in shock.

“I’m defending our dignity!” Omir screamed.

His response was a storm of machine gun fire and a deafening tank cannon blast! Hot shrapnel and gravel rained down on the bunker.

"You'll kill us all!" Joshua roared at Omir, clutching his head amidst the violent tremors.

"Only cowards fear death! We are proud Zionians, the finest people of this land!" Omir roared, his eyes wide with fury.

"The most outstanding nation..."

These words were like a sharp knife piercing Joshua's heart, causing him to convulse violently.

He recalled that three years ago, when the Six-Day War broke out, he was still studying history at university. He also held the same belief in "sacred defense of the country," put down his books, picked up a rifle, and resolutely joined the army.

Looking at these children consumed by fanaticism and completely ignorant of the realities of war, a powerful thought arose in Joshua's mind—he had to do something, he had to let them live, he had to atone for his past sins.

As the Arab tanks drew ever closer, and loud warnings rang out almost against their ears, all the recruits gripped their guns tightly, their hearts pounding.

At that moment, Joshua suddenly said, "You all stay here. As long as you do what the Arabs say, they won't kill you." With that, he stood up abruptly, much to the astonishment of all the new recruits.

Joshua raised his rifle high and pulled the trigger towards the sky!
"Bang! Bang!"

The sudden gunfire instantly drew the attention of all the Arab soldiers.

In an instant, a hail of bullets rained down on him.

The first bullet struck his shoulder, the force of which jolted his body violently.

Joshua staggered but didn't fall immediately, but then a second and a third bullet pierced his chest and abdomen, followed by more bullets hitting his legs and arms.
He was like a sandbag struck by countless heavy punches, trembling violently amidst the hail of bullets, before finally collapsing helplessly forward and crashing heavily into the rubble.

His eyes were fixed on the recruits behind the bunker. In his dying moments, he saw the horror, fear, and bewilderment in their eyes.

The cruelty of war was laid bare before them in the bloodiest and most direct way.

Joshua slowly closed his eyes.

"The enemy has been killed."

Sergeant Hassan put down his assault rifle and stared at the Zion soldier lying on the ground, riddled with dozens of bullets.

He signaled to his teammates to remain vigilant and advance, certain that there were other enemies nearby.

Unexpectedly, the anticipated desperate resistance did not occur, and several rifles were shakily thrown into the middle of the street.

Immediately afterwards, several hands that were unusually young were raised high from behind the rubble, accompanied by cries of Hebrew choked with sobs: "We surrender! Don't shoot! We surrender!"

"Let me see your heads and hands! Everyone, slowly move to the center! Face us!" Hassan commanded loudly.

Soon, several Zion recruits, their faces pale and bodies trembling, stepped forward obediently with their hands raised.

Hassan immediately led his men forward to disarm them, then ordered them to lie face down on the ground with their hands behind their heads, and bound their wrists tightly behind their backs with plastic straps, thus linking the prisoners together.

"He didn't intend to kill us."

Hassan walked to Joshua's body and asked the captured recruits, "Who was this man to you?"

The recruits couldn't understand Arabic, but their eyes had already given Hassan the answer.

At that moment, Hassan noticed that the dead Zion soldier was clutching his chest tightly with one hand.

He carefully used the barrel of his rifle to try to pry open the stiff arm.

"Be careful, Hassan!" his teammate warned. "It might be a booby trap!"

Hassan didn't stop; he gently pried Joshua's hand away.

There were no explosives inside, only a carefully preserved but faded and old photograph of a girl with a bright and radiant smile.

On the back of the photo was a sentence that read, “War turns people into beasts.”

A teammate leaned over for a look. "His daughter?"

Hassan shook his head, his gaze falling on Joshua's fingers, and said, "No, it should be his fiancée."

After looking at it, he gently stuffed the photo back into the other person's pocket.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

With the main force of Shuangzhi completely controlling the Haifa city area, the last sporadic gunfire also fell silent.

The overnight clearing operation completely crushed the remaining resistance forces in the city, and now fully armed soldiers can be seen patrolling the streets everywhere.

In order to maintain order in the city, Taymiyeh issued the Wartime Control Decree, which prohibited a series of behaviors that could cause chaos.

These include "strictly prohibiting marches and demonstrations," "implementing a curfew," and "regional jurisdiction," among others.

Those who violate this rule will be severely punished.

All the residents spent the night in fear and anxiety. As the first rays of sunlight illuminated the top of Carmel Mountain in the morning, a Chinook transport helicopter kicked up a cloud of dust and slowly landed on the crowded square in front of the city hall.

The hatch opened, and Lu Lin, dressed in a crisp marshal's uniform, stepped out.

At this moment, rows of soldiers, impeccably dressed and stretching to the horizon, stood solemnly on both sides of the square, their bayonets gleaming coldly in the morning light.

A major general, barely over thirty years old, stepped forward, gave Lu Lin a crisp military salute, and said in a loud voice, "Marshal!"

The division commander under Lu Lin was named Drubb. He also had another identity: the thirteenth son of the late King Shams. Therefore, Lu Lin often jokingly called him "Old Thirteen" in private.

Lu Lin raised his hand in return, his gaze sweeping over the young face before him, which was now resolute due to the ravages of war, and nodded.

Without saying much, he turned around and strode toward the towering flagpole at the entrance of the city government building.

At this time, the flags in all the places in the city, including rooftops, where the Zion flag had once flown, were now flown at half-mast.

"Change it off," Lu Lin said.

Fahd immediately stepped forward and deftly removed the lowered Zion blue and white flag, then put it away.

Immediately afterwards, Lu Lin took a neatly folded flag from Yagubu beside him—the blue banner that symbolized his and his legion's glory.

He faced the thousands of soldiers in the square, slowly unfurling the flag, his voice clearly carried throughout the entire square through the loudspeakers:
"This military flag was bestowed upon us by the King of Shams. It bears witness to our oaths and our blood, from the ruins of Ghanam to the snowstorms of the Golan Heights, and to the glory of the liberation of Damascus! It has witnessed every step we have taken over the past three years!"

Lu Lin paused for a moment: "I once said, 'We must fight until we are completely victorious,' and drive the invaders out of the Arab lands completely, even if it takes several generations."
But today, upon closer inspection, I realized that we have captured Haifa, and Tel Aviv is less than 100 kilometers away from us!
The fruits of victory are within easy reach:
Then I have to ask: If we can do it ourselves, why leave it to the next generation?

The breath caught in the throats of all the soldiers present, and their eyes blazed with an even more intense fervor.

"We must utterly defeat Zion and win lasting peace for the Arab world!"

A thunderous roar erupted from the chests of thousands of soldiers: "Down with Zion!!"

Seeing the burning gazes, Lu Lin personally threaded the flag rope through the pulley and pulled hard.

Under the watchful eyes of countless people, the azure eagle flag rose slowly in the Mediterranean breeze.

Finally, it proudly soared above the Haifa City Hall, hovering over this newly conquered land.

(End of this chapter)