Followers

Wednesday 17 June 2009

MULTIPLY Visual Aid #12: Playing Soldiers

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„Here we are again playing soldiers for our country that never has a war. I will be glad when this military service thing is finished Hans.”

“I only have this year and it’s all over and I won’t be sorry, although I really don’t see the point of all this chasing around in the woods after an enemy that doesn’t exist. You know Dieter it seems to me our officers are running out of ideas. We both have to wear a red stripe around our arm, because we belong to the reds and we are fighting the blues. What happens if we are colour blind, then how do you recognised a blue?"

“Don’t ask silly questions Hans, just do it. The quicker we get this stupid game behind us the better. Where are we going anyhow, show me the map.”

“Dieter, I think the idea is to follow this path up to the thicket over there with those trees; looks like there is someone waiting for us to show us the way further.”

“Looks like it, but he doesn’t seem to belong to us, no red or blue stripe. Perhaps it is one of the officers keeping an eye on us.”

“Halt.”

“Did you say something Hans?”

“No, not me, I think it was that guy dressed up in the funny costume over there.”

“I said halt, or you will feel the edge of my sword.”

“Do what, now just a moment. Playing war games is one thing, but don’t you think you are going a little bit too far. Which regiment are you in, and what part are you playing in this exercise?”

“I do not understand you strangers, you are infringing on my territory and can go no further, otherwise the wrath of the Gods will hit you. This forest is holy territory, only to be trodden by the tribes of Bog and its followers.”

“Hey, which film are you in, or where did you escape from?”

“Dieter, keep calm; you know how those officers like to play a joke now and again. Let’s just humour him, I am sure this is part of the training programme.”

“If you say so Hans, but he does look a bit funny dressed up in all that leather and steel, although his hair style could well be from one of the characters you might meet in a heavy rock band. Let me do the talking."

"OK, leader of Bog or whoever, are you with the reds or the blues, or just being neutral?”

“I am a soldier with the tribe of Bog. Our lands begin here at this place and I will protect my tribe until all such foreign warriors as yourself are eliminated.”

“Ok, joke over. We are just ordinary soldiers having a practice at playing war and afterwards we all sit together around a nice warm fire, have a drink of beer together and a good laugh.”

“Bog warriors do not laugh, we learn other things. You see the bow of this tree. Now watch what I do with one swish of my sword. So barbarians, you are now not laughing, with one swipe I have cut this trunk in two and so will it be with your heads. On your knees.”

“Now listen Bog soldier, or whoever, we are not barbarians but civilised members of the human society. I don’t know what asylum you escaped from, but somehow I think you are in the wrong place at the wrong time, isn’t he Dieter.”

“Yes, definitely Hans and just to show you what we mean, just watch what we can do with our weapon. You see that bird sitting in the top branch of that tree. Well this is how we deal with them.”

“This is black magic, people such as you are burnt in our Kingdom of Bog; killing a bird with noise and fire at such a great distance. “

“That is nothing Bog, we can kill you at a short distance before you lift that swordy thing in your hand. Where did you buy it; at the local toyshop, or were they giving them away as free samples at the last Star Wars film.”

“My name is not Bog, but Wrath, my Kingdom is Bog.”

“So where is this Kingdom of Bog and where are the rest of you? A pretty poor figure you are dressed up like a fancy dress figure at the edge of a forest.”

“Do not mock me strangers. I have been on duty for many moons at the edge of this forest.”

“So when did you see the last Boggers, or whatever you call the characters in your kingdom.”

“Hans, I think he is crying.”

“Oh do not mock me, it is true, I have been guarding this entrance to the forest for many years. I would like to return to my folk again.”

“You know what Dieter, I slowly think this guy believes all this Bog stuff.”

“Yes, he does seem quite convinced. Look, he is drying his tears with his hair.”

“Well I supposed he would, he has enough.”

“What shall we do? I mean we can’t just leave him here.”


“I know. Listen Mr. Wrath of Bog, how about you showing us where this Bog place is.”

“It is through the forest on the other side.”

“But on the other side is the main motorway through our country.”

“Motorway?”

“Yes, you know where we move from one place to another.”

“You mean in chariots.”

“Yes, in chariots.”

“Dieter what are you talking for rubbish?”

“Hans do you want your head chopped off with a playmobile sword, or do you want to live. I am just humouring this maniac.”

“I will lead you, barbarians, but you remain behind me. My folk will take revenge if you kill me with your magic swords.”

“Ok, Dieter, let’s follow and see what happens. The noise of the motorway is getting louder and he is walking towards the traffic.”

“Well he was Hans, but now he seems to have disappeared.”

“That’s true, nowhere to be seen. I think we better get on with the job. Dieter, after all we are doing an army practice and not escorting escaped patients from a mental asylum.”

“Look there is the officer.”

“Where have you been men, we thought you had been kidnapped by the blues. You are the only free members of the red troop left. Well done. As it is the last evening of our exercise, you are all invited to a drink in the army centre. Yes we are pleased with the results of this training.”

“Hans shall we tell him about that guy?”

“What guy men?”

“Oh, nothing sir.”

As they left the forest they passed a signpost.

Forest of Bogland, named after the ancient tribes of Bog that once lived in the area. Their existence has been proved by various relics found in excavations when building the motorway. Their population was decimated by invasions from other tribes




Visual Aid #12

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