Working as a police officer in Mexico-Chapter 1659 - 757: Don’t Relieve Yourself Anywhere!
March 22, 1996, around 7 a.m., the border area between Kentucky and Indiana.
The smell of gunpowder mixed with the scent of damp earth hung over the dilapidated border town.
A convoy composed of military jeeps and black SUVs bounced along the pothole-riddled road, the NATO emblem and the Star-Spangled Banner on the vehicles particularly conspicuous.
The convoy stopped at a relatively intact highland vantage point.
The car doors opened, and a group of men and women in suits that were completely out of place with the surroundings emerged.
Leading them were several core members of the NATO advisory group:
William, the Great British Shit Stirrer, the French representative Durand, and several other NATO member military observers and civilian officials.
Following closely were the Lieutenant Governors of Kentucky and Ohio, with humble smiles mixed with anticipation and anxiety on their faces.
A large group of reporters carrying cameras swarmed in like sharks smelling blood.
"Gentlemen, look this way," a Kentucky National Guard Colonel pointed in the direction of the vague outline of what used to be the town center, now just ruins, "that is one of the current front lines facing off with the Mexican Army. In the past 72 hours, we have successfully repelled their three company-sized infiltration attempts…"
William held a sophisticated high-powered telescope, pretending to look into the distance, his brow slightly furrowed as if scrutinizing a carefully arranged sand table exercise. "Hmm... the front line is indeed very tight. The courage of your soldiers is commendable."
Just then—
"Whoosh—Boom!!"
"Whoosh whoosh whoosh—Boom boom boom!!"
Shrill whistles shredded the sky, followed by intense explosions blending into one! Artillery fire from the direction of the "Freedom Alliance" suddenly, without warning, rained down on the other side of the border. The massive sound shook the ground slightly, and in the distance, fiery orange explosions mixed with black smoke rose up.
The advisory group members were startled by the sudden bombardment, with several civilian officials instinctively shrinking their necks, moving closer to their bodyguards.
William's telescope trembled a bit, but he quickly steadied it, attempting to maintain composure, although his face turned slightly pale.
"What's going on?!" The Ohio Lieutenant Governor, both shocked and angry, lowered his voice and growled at the state guard officer beside him, instantly breaking into a cold sweat on his forehead.
The officer, looking embarrassed and helpless, replied, "Officer… it might be… it might be some artillery unit below trying to boost morale, or they received incorrect intelligence…"
Soon, retaliatory artillery fire from the Mexican Army also whistled in, landing in the areas controlled by the Alliance, with explosions resonating continuously.
Although clearly avoiding this elevated area, the proximity was enough to make these pampered advisors feel the threat of death.
"It seems the frontline soldiers have a very strong desire to fight."
The French representative Durand adjusted the tie that was messed up by the wind, his tone carrying a hint of detectable sarcasm, "It's just that the timing seems a bit off."
William put down the telescope, cleared his throat, faced the camera, his face quickly switching to a look of somber determination: "Ladies and gentlemen, you've seen it, you've heard it. War is brutal, and the invader's artillery is roaring at our side. But this only strengthens our resolve to stand with NATO and the Free World! We will not be intimidated by such violence…"
He made the speech with fervor, as if the momentary panic just now had never happened.
About an hour later, at a temporary medical camp near the front line.
The air was thick with the pungent smell of disinfectant, blood, and sweat.
The tent was crowded with wounded, and sounds of painful groaning and suppressed sobbing filled the air.
Solders missing limbs lay on simple army cots, their eyes empty or listlessly staring at the tent's ceiling.
The advisory group, surrounded by state officials and reporters, entered. William led in front, trying to maintain a dignified expression, but his slightly furrowed brow betrayed his discomfort with the surroundings.
Hmm…
Forgot to mention, he's a noble!
He stopped in front of a bed where a soldier seemed younger than twenty lay, with empty arms below the elbows, bandages stained with blood.
"Soldier, how are you feeling?" William bent down, using what he thought was his most gentle and compassionate tone, while not forgetting to glance at the camera nearby to ensure the best angle was captured.
The young soldier turned his head, his face pale, eyes filled with fear and despair, and he spoke with a trembling, choked voice: "I… I lost my hands… both of them! Sir, what will I do in the future? I'm a farmer, without hands, how do I drive a tractor? How do I support my mother and sister? The disability pension the Governor promised… can I really get it? Or will it be like the last case of unpaid wages, delayed for months?"
This blunt and cruel question was like a heavy punch, stiffening the sympathy on William's face for a moment.
Damn it, not cooperative at all!
He hadn't even organized his words when other wounded who could speak also turned their gazes, filled with the same questions and anticipation.
"Yes, sir, my leg…"
"How much was the compensation promised again?"
"Will the government really take care of us?"
William felt his scalp tingle, and he immediately straightened himself, patting the shoulder of the soldier with the missing arms, raising his voice to ensure everyone could hear: "Brave young man, your and your comrade's sacrifices are witnessed by the Free World! Rest assured, you will not be abandoned! Once I return to Brussels, I will immediately press all parties to ensure that all promised compensations and aid are disbursed swiftly and fully to every hero! Europe and America, the civilized society, will not stand by and do nothing!"
