Fiction Week

By Mike Hanson

Indonesia 2034

The destruction was absolute. As far as the eye could see, detritus covered the landscape until it faded into the green hills in the distance that stemmed the surging tide. Piles of wood and heaps of rubble blended together to make an unnatural brownish-grey hue on the land. Smashed houses were strewn about randomly among broken buildings knocked off their foundations, cars and trucks lay sideways and upside down in this field of apocalyptic destruction. Even boats littered the debris field like cast-aside toys. Out towards the sea, flotsam and jetsam bobbed and swayed in the now calm tide.

And so did the bodies. Thousands of twisted, grey, putrefying corpses, contorted into horrific positions, some with outstretched arms and hands that seemed to be grasping for help. The flies had already descended upon them. And the stench was ungodly. The odor added its insidious effect to be the most atrocious part of the vast apocalyptic scene that lay before the fortunate ones who survived. But how fortunate were these survivors? They had lost everything. Their families, their homes, their livelihoods, everything. For those that escaped the tsunami, all they had left was the clothes on their backs. In light of the unfathomable destruction that lay before them, perhaps they weren’t so lucky to survive. What was there to survive for?

Ajij walked carefully through the debris and surveyed the damage. As a much younger man, he witnessed near identical scenes when a tsunami hit his home in 2004. It was a normal day like any other, and in an instant, hell came ashore from the sea. His entire life was uprooted. Friends and family members disappeared, life was shattered. With no relief, it seemed to the devastated survivors that they would die soon too. Only much slower than the victims of nature’s wrath.

As he sat in wonderment among the debris of 2004, he looked out to sea and saw an enormous gray ship with a flat deck. It started out small on the horizon but steadily grew bigger, and it gave him hope. After watching for what seemed like an interminable amount of time, he saw helicopters coming towards land. They were big and grey, and said “MARINES” on the side in large black letters.

Ajij didn’t care who they were, he ran towards the helicopters to see them land. Immediately, the men aboard wearing green suits and large helmets began tossing cases of water to the ground. Ajij noticed an American flag, and the thought flashed through his mind that this was the first time he had seen an American. But the thought didn’t remain long in his head as he and the other survivors quickly raced forward and began grabbing the water cases. It was a short landing, and soon the helicopter took off again, heading back toward the ship.

But after about an hour it came back and unloaded more cargo. It departed and returned again. And again. And soon more helicopters came. And each time they brought more supplies. And after a while people started getting off the helicopters. People in green camouflage uniforms. They brought more water, and food, and other supplies. Eventually there was a large number of them ashore. They set up a medical tent and offered treatment to any local that was hurt. This was the beginning of the Americans’ stay in this scene from Armageddon.

They didn’t stay long though, before moving on to somewhere else to help others in need. Soon the grey ship with a large, white 6 on the side disappeared over the horizon. There was a lot of rebuilding to do. Rebuilding of civilization, rebuilding of lives. But Ajij was alive to start over. He never forgot the Americans that arrived to help him and others on his long journey to recovery.

An older man now, Ajij recollected these memories of 2004 as he watched a new group of grey ships on the horizon. “These are the Americans,” he said, as he told his fellow survivors about his experience in the tsunami 30 years before. He tried to give others hope, and exhorted them to hold on because help was on the way. “The Americans are coming back and they will be here to help us soon, I have witnessed them before,” he said to the devastated people that remained of his community.

Anxiously, he waited for the helicopters to come in again and suddenly he saw one emerge from the ship and turn towards the shore. He followed it with his eyes and saw it was coming into land nearby. It was a near repeat of what he experienced 30 years before. As it came closer he noticed its markings were different than he remembered. Troops immediately debarked the helicopter and began unloading supplies. As he came closer he could see their blue uniforms. In large letters on the side of the helicopter were the letters “PLANMC.” These were not Americans. The Chinese had landed.

Ajij was surprised. “Where are the Americans?” he wondered to himself, “Why aren’t they here now?” The thought didn’t remain long. He quickly abandoned it and moved towards these troops handing out relief supplies. “Never mind any of that,” he thought, “These people are here and we need help now,” he told himself.

He looked out to sea and saw more grey ships, even more than he remembered the Americans bringing 30 years before. The white numbers on the side of these were 075, 076, and 077. More helicopters flew by. Ajij had long remembered hearing stories in the news about rising tensions between Chinese ships and ships of neighboring countries in the region. He remembered people saying these tensions could possibly turn into war. He saw no threat of that now, and dispelled the thought from his mind. “Perhaps China isn’t so bad after all?”

Major Mike Hanson, USMC, is an Infantry Officer serving at The Basic School, where the Marine Corps trains its lieutenants to be provisional rifle platoon commanders. He is also a member of the Connecting File, a Substack newsletter that shares material on tactics, techniques, procedures, and leadership for Marines at the infantry battalion level and below.

Featured Image: Artwork created with Midjourney AI.