George Bush’S Great America [EN]: Chapter 280

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The Middle East in 2001 and western Iraq in 2005 were worlds apart. The familiar sight of two- or three-story brick buildings lining bustling streets had become rare. Instead, dense concrete construction sites, seemingly intent on blocking out the sky, dominated the landscape.

This wasn’t redevelopment spearheaded by the Western world or anything of the sort. Rather, the actions of terrorists had made such changes inevitable. Missiles and homemade rockets were pilfered almost daily, and the threat of suicide attacks loomed constantly.

Nevertheless, western Iraq gradually stabilized, a feat attributable entirely to the power of the military and the influx of capital. The people, their livelihoods improved, harbored no major grievances with the status quo. Even if dissatisfaction lingered, they were more likely to voice their concerns than to reach for a homemade AK-47.

The problem lay in the shortsighted assumption that eastern Iraq would simply collapse on its own. No preparations were made for the possibility of its continued existence. To be precise, plans were in place for the integration of eastern Iraq, but no one had considered how to manage a scenario where it remained divided.

Consider this: who could have imagined that those who destroy power plants—the very heart and lifeblood of modern civilization—could effectively govern a country? What they overlooked was that a country can persist even under mismanagement.

Of course, such a state wouldn’t last indefinitely, but the failure to account for examples like the Taliban or North Korea meant they didn’t consider that it could endure for several more years, or even decades in the worst-case scenario.

The Western world remained trapped in the naive belief that a wealthy neighboring country would naturally lead to the collapse of its less prosperous counterpart, negating the need for active intervention.

Furthermore, the previous administration’s appeasement policy toward North Korea, touted as a success to prolong its political life, went unchallenged and uncriticized, gradually fostering a false perception within European society.

The western Iraqi military, gaining a clearer understanding of the situation through joint exercises, began to develop reservations. While the military possessed considerable power, the establishment of a civilian government had stripped away much of their former authority.

The EU’s focus remained fixed on establishing Western order in the Middle East. Military operations conducted by the European integrated forces in western Iraq proceeded smoothly, bolstered by overwhelming support from the mainland. However, everything beyond military activities progressed at a moderate, average pace.

So, in a way, what followed was inevitable.

-Cleanly washed-! Once-!

Chijik.

-Show show show! -Giving! Appeared-.

Chijijik.

-We-absolutely-! ……West-! For the Middle East order-!

Pieong.

“Damn it. Can’t catch anything.”

The latest TV from Europe crackled with static. It had been donated to the military as part of a corporate branding campaign, but it only served to fuel resentment among the soldiers who were supposed to be the target audience. The most crucial function of a TV—the ability to receive broadcasts—was woefully inadequate.

“What country is it from? Italy? Greece?”

“Portugal.”

It mattered little whether the TV originated from Portugal, some obscure Southeast Asian nation, or even the Arctic or Antarctic. The only thing that mattered was its ability to properly receive and display broadcasts.

Remon repeatedly struck the TV in the break room with his calloused palm, but only elicited unpleasant noise and gray static that seemed to induce tinnitus.

“I’ll try to fix it.”

A private first class, recently deployed to western Iraq, tinkered with the TV antenna. His expression was impassive, but his displeasure was evident in his voice.

“Try this.”

Fabien tossed a cold carbonated drink to Remon. They were comrades who had repeatedly faced danger together since the beginning of their deployment. Most of their former squadmates had been reassigned, but a core group remained in Remon’s squad.

“Are you going to run the kids tomorrow, too?”

Remon had become responsible for training all newly dispatched soldiers. In reality, it was more about familiarizing them with the field, but nearly every member of the European integrated forces passed through Remon’s hands at some point. This was a demanding task for Remon.

“Honestly, I don’t think it’s something a corporal should be doing. It’s more suited for a company commander.”

“Doesn’t that mean you’re highly trusted? And aren’t you scheduled for promotion anyway?”

He was slated to become a sergeant, and perhaps even higher, if he met certain conditions. While it wasn’t unusual in France for a seasoned and accomplished corporal to become a non-commissioned officer, Remon’s promotion trajectory was exceptional.

“Anyway, you say the same thing every time. Is it really okay to say that?”

It was a common refrain, regardless of nationality.

‘Never forget what you learned in training camp. Only morons say that what you learned in training camp doesn’t work in the field! If you follow the FM [Field Manual], you’ll be able to go home in one piece in nine out of ten cases.’

“Why?”

“Is it okay to tell such a lie?”

“What lie am I telling? Honestly, it’s not wrong in the operation. If it’s ‘FM’. And there’s no point in moving around on your own. But if you’ve been dispatched, you all have the basics, right?”

“But isn’t Corporal Remon the most different from FM in our unit?”

That was true. Fabien was absolutely right. Until just two years ago.

“Are you upset? Then you can rewrite the FM, or get it rewritten. And I did.”

It was largely Remon’s influence that had made some of the French army’s field manuals more aggressive. He hadn’t altered the overall framework, but the guerrilla warfare doctrine, in particular, had been revised to prioritize speed over safety.

“Honestly, is what we’re doing what a regular unit does? We’re a special forces unit.”

“Special forces aren’t as shabby as we are.”

Before the squad members scattered, Remon’s squad could have been considered a special forces unit, at least in terms of guerrilla warfare. What regular army in the world, when supplies are exhausted, foregoes retreating for resupply or breaking through to seize it, and instead solves the problem by annihilating the enemy?

As Remon recalled, it was something he had done while caught up in the moment, and honestly, it wasn’t a very good idea. ‘Dispersed bayonet charge and seizure resupply’ was a tactic that the French Resistance during the Vichy France era would have employed.

The basic principle was ‘chaos,’ with ‘speed’ as its lifeblood—a method of plunging the battlefield into disarray through rapid movements and inter-squad communication that resembled a blitzkrieg. This was only effective in urban warfare, where it could lead the enemy to overestimate the size and firepower of the friendly forces. Furthermore, the key was to create the illusion of a traitor within their ranks.

But the most crucial element was a squad comprised of skilled and capable individuals.

‘We were just dispatched privates and had to carry out operations comparable to special forces. In our own way.’

In fact, the reason everything had gone so well thus far was due to the excellence of the squad members, not the brilliance of the tactics.

“Honestly, if you keep charging like that, you’ll get a hole in your head someday—.”

“This bastard can’t say anything to his senior.”

The empty can that Remon playfully tossed bounced off the wall and struck Fabien’s head. Fortunately, it was empty.

“If this was a grenade— Ugh!”

“I should shut that bastard’s mouth.”

Remon actually taped Fabien’s mouth shut with aluminum tape. However, it wasn’t fully secured, and Fabien quickly removed it, responding with more chatter.

“No, where are your manners? To shut the mouth of such a kind junior!”

-We will never trust the West!

“No, damn it. I told you to fix it, why is this country’s broadcast coming out?”

Of course, each barracks had channels from various countries. Even when deployed, soldiers could watch their home country’s TV programs in near real-time. But the TV was now broadcasting in Arabic, a language Remon was just beginning to learn.

Seeing the private first class looking upset, it was clear that something was seriously wrong.

But unfortunately, that wasn’t the extent of it.

“Corporal Remon, look at this.”

-They claimed that the tragedy that happened to us in the past was a democratic revolution! But was what we stood up for at the time really because we longed for the Western system? Was the march we started after agonizing over starvation for the sake of the West?

“What is it?”

“Quiet!”

Although few in number, those who understood Arabic gathered in groups of three or five in front of the old TV, sensing something unusual.

-Surprisingly, the Iraqi government’s answer is ‘yes!’ Those shameless people who call themselves the current western Iraqi government are accepting all of these humiliating remarks! They are dogs of the West! They are the henchmen of the EU who sold out their brothers!

The EU military also said that they would leave in stages once Iraq was stabilized, but the more days that passed, the more they were increasing in size. More training grounds and barracks are being built in Iraq for a semi-permanent presence! They are not keeping a single promise with Iraq!

Furthermore, they are trying to divide this Middle East at will under the guise of minority independence! They are trying to remind us of the power of the East that once threatened and admired them, and tear it into small pieces so that it can never rise again!

As much as one-third of the blood tax that we have collected through sweat and tears for national development is being used to support their inferior military industry. This is truly abnormal! What country in the world is like this?

In addition, the current government has already shown its incompetence with economic reforms that are reckless and rudimentary even to a child, and the current state affairs are actually being carried out by Europeans, not Iraqis! Is this a government? Is this our destiny?

No! That’s not it! People of Iraq! True masters of Iraq! Arise!

The screen switched to a scene of shelling about to begin on the barracks where Remon was stationed, accompanied by a man who appeared to be a colonel in the Iraqi army.

“Shit.”

“Get down!”