After preparation had passed, I go to Quartermaster with special order from Teniente Todri to request some supplies.
Walking into the Quartermaster's tent, as expected on his skills, how he managed to procure supplies, well how the army survives will depend on its core, the supplies, if the supplies are well kept, then the army can go into battle for months.
The quartermaster, is sarhento ranked, one rank higher than me, while his attire is a bit loose, maybe he just finished from handling cooking sections, he wipe his face with his towel, while looking at me. "Oh you're the one that give the extra bullets, honestly I'm impressed, state what you want and get on with it!" The quartermaster quickly sneered.
"Oh, here's the order from Teniente Todri." I handed him the folded paper.
The quartermaster scanned the letter, his brows knitting together.
"Hmm… even with this request," he muttered, "I might not be able to give you much. Supplies are quite thin these days."
I shrugged slightly. "Never mind. Just give what you can. I'll make do."
The quartermaster studied me for a moment, then nodded and turned toward the storage racks. He called his men, ordering him to find the list items mentioned, the lackey nod and went to the crates, looking the items. Quite a while, he brought 2 small crates. He open the lid. Powder charges. Quite new in red coloured. Also, the quartermaster add some clothes.
"Four powder charges. Four fuse cords," he said, dropping them on the table. "And some spare cloth. Looks like farmer rags, but it might help you blend in."
I inspected the items briefly and nodded.
"Hmm… that should be enough."
"Good, then out quickly. I have another job to do other thank treating you lot" The quartermaster snorts and went back.
~~
As I return to my men, Pasco comes,
"Kabo, do we have new orders?"
"Well we do now, and its kind of challenging."
I called the rest of the team and has some discussion on the upcoming mission, and explain to them how its going to be. Though honestly it would be crucial one"
I brief to them about our first mission.
"What?! going to americans base directly is a suicide, boss" Roberto exclaims.
"Yeah, also with the current quartermaster gave us, its way too little, even not enough to cause chaos among enemies." Pasco added.
"But why Teniente Todri want us instead of the regular soldiers, doesnt they have special team for that?" Sanchez trying to make things logical.
"Maybe, we were too stand out, I presume?" Julian explained with a head tilted to left.
"Well, yes you have the right to against since its indeed a suicide mission, but I believe there's reason why Teniente chose us instead of anyone." I explained.
"Also, even I trained you all with basic shooting and some knife skills, its still not enough." I added.
"What are you talking about, boss?" Sanchez frowned. "We're basically the only ones who received that kind of training. Most soldiers don't get that privilege, you know."
Julian nodded, and Pasco and Roberto quickly followed in agreement.
I blinked. "Wait… isn't that supposed to be taught to recruits?"
"No, boss," Pasco said with a small laugh. "So far, you're one of the few who actually bothered to train us properly."
Sanchez crossed his arms. "And look what happened. Because of that training, we're still alive."
"Teniente Todri gave me a rough map of the area," I continued, tapping the folded paper in my hand. Even I was impressed teniente managed to get this intel, it must be from previous initiatives. "But a map alone isn't enough. What we need now is information."
Julian raised an eyebrow.
"So we're scouting first?"
"Yes," I replied. "And we won't be going there as soldiers."
Their expressions shifted slightly.
"We go as villagers."
~~
Villages nearby the American base.
Just several kilometres may not seem far, but moving carefully through brush and narrow paths slowed our pace. By the time we reached the small village near the American position, the sun was already lowering toward the horizon.
From what I could see, the village appeared calm on the surface. Farmers moved slowly between their huts, and a few women carried baskets toward the well.
But appearances were deceptive.
From what I had heard earlier, the Americans often came through this place, demanding food and supplies whenever their patrols passed. The villagers endured it quietly—like people who had already learned resistance would only bring punishment.
The settlement itself was simple.
Most houses were wooden kampung huts raised slightly above the ground, their roofs made of nipa leaves. Near the centre of the village stood several sturdier structures—stone buildings arranged in a short row.
Colonial buildings.
Probably shops, storehouses, or places where merchants once traded during colonial days.
Perfect places for gathering information.
I turned toward my men.
"Spread out," I said quietly. "Talk to the villagers. Ask about the American patrols and their camp. Nothing suspicious."
They nodded and moved off in different directions, blending into the slow movement of the village.
As for myself, I walked toward the stone buildings.
Some of the shops were still open, selling simple goods—salt, cloth, dried fish, and small tools.
While pretending to browse, I kept my eyes open.
Luck was with me.
I went to one shop, particular a small one with the writing "General Store Vasquez". I opened the door, and its a bit messy, although the tools for sell are arranged properly. Never judge a book by its cover I assume. While searching for any useful items, among the dusty items on a shelf, I found something interesting. A small brass spyglass. One-sided binoculars, likely left behind by a Spanish trader or officer years ago. I weighed it briefly in my hand. I test it, look through it.
Still usable.
With a few coins from the money I had kept earlier, the shopkeeper was more than happy to part with it.
Not a bad acquisition.
"thank you for your business, po" the shopkeeper thanked me as I walked out from the store.
Observation wins wars long before the shooting begins.
~~
Night approached quickly.
We finished our preparations in silence, checking what little equipment we had and making sure every man understood his role. The powder charges were wrapped carefully in cloth, the fuses tucked safely into small pouches. From what they received from the villagers, the americans did come but not that frequent. It seems they only come in some occasions.
When everything was ready, the five of us moved toward the outskirts of the American position. The village lights faded behind us as we climbed a small rise overlooking the enemy camp.
From the higher ground, I carefully took out the spyglass I had purchased earlier. Through the lens, the American outpost came into view.
It was smaller than I expected.
Roughly twenty to twenty-five small tents were arranged in uneven rows—likely where the soldiers slept. A few larger tents stood near the center of the camp, probably belonging to officers or used for storage.
I adjusted the spyglass again.
One of the larger tents had its entrance partially open. A man stepped out, wearing a soldier attire but stained faintly with blood.
Oh, its a medical staff.
So that must be the field medical tent.
I took out a small notebook and began writing.
Medical tent — central area.
Slowly, I scanned the camp again, observing more carefully.
Two guards were walking the perimeter on the northern side. Another stood near a supply wagon. Their patrol route repeated every few minutes.
Predictable.
That was useful.
I marked their patrol paths on the paper.
Then I began sketching the layout of the camp itself.
Tents. Wagons. Fire pits. Guard positions.
Every detail that might matter once we moved inside.
After a while, I lowered the spyglass.
The rough map was finished.
Not perfect. But good enough to stir things up, and to make americans retreat or slowed their attacking.
~~
Once the sketch was finished, I gathered the men around me. Using the map in the dirt, I pointed to four marked locations inside the camp.
"Julian. Supply wagon."
He nodded and run to the location.
"Pasco. The tent behind the officers' row."
Another nod.
"Sanchez. The storage crates near the northern edge."
"And Roberto," I continued, "you take the southern fire pit area."
Roberto grinned slightly. "Easy enough."
I shook my head.
"Nothing about this is easy."
Each man took one powder charge and a fuse.
"Two minutes," I reminded them quietly. "No longer."
They slipped down the slope one by one, disappearing into the darkness toward the American camp.
For a few minutes, the night felt unbearably long.
Through the spyglass, I watched shadows moving between tents.
A sentry walked past Julian's position.
Too close.
But the guard kept walking.
Then, slowly, figures began returning. I was impressed with Julian, since he was the first one, Pasco come in second, also with some bloodstain.
"What?, the enemy saw me, I killed him fast" He reply. I sighed
Then, Sanchez arrived too. Seems fine to me.
Roberto arrived last, breathing slightly harder than the rest.
"Charges set," he whispered.
We waited.
One minute.
Then—
Boom.
A small explosion erupted near the southern tents.
Another followed seconds later.
Then a third.
The American camp jolted awake instantly.
"ENEMYYYY!!!!"
Men shouted.
A bell began ringing furiously somewhere near the command tent.
But then—
For a moment nothing happened.
Pasco frowned.
"Did one fail?"
Then the night split apart.
BOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
A massive explosion tore through the camp, lighting the sky with fire and sparks.
"Now thats one hell of fireworks!" I laughed.
That must be the ammunition wagon.
Flames burst upward as secondary explosions cracked through the air.
Now the Americans were in full panic.
Soldiers ran between tents, shouting orders that no one could hear over the chaos.
I lowered the spyglass slowly.
"Time to leave."
No one argued. All of us quickly pick up pace and quietly leave the area.
~~
The moment the ammunition wagon exploded, the entire American camp descended into chaos.
Flames shot into the night sky, illuminating rows of tents and scrambling soldiers.
Shouts rang out everywhere. Orders and shouts are surrounding the area, deafening. Americans.
"Alarm! Alarm!"
A bell began ringing wildly somewhere near the center of the camp.
As we on our way, escaping, within seconds, the enemies started firing.
"Damn!, now they start shooting in the dark" I signaled the other to keep down a while.
Not aimed. Just panic.
Muzzle flashes flickered across the darkness as American soldiers fired toward the fields and tree lines surrounding the camp.
They didn't know where the attack had come from.
Which made the darkness even more dangerous.
"Move," I whispered sharply.
We began pulling back from the ridge, keeping low as we moved through the grass.
Another explosion cracked behind us as something inside the burning wagon ignited again.
The Americans were shouting orders now, officers trying to regain control.
But the firing continued.
Blind.
Uncontrolled.
Then—
A sharp cry broke the night.
"Ahh—!"
"I HEARD NOISES !!! THE ENEMIES" the americans quickly to our location.
Roberto collapsed beside the path.
I dropped beside him instantly.
"Where?"
"Leg…!" he hissed through clenched teeth.
Even in the dim light I could see the dark stain spreading across his lower thigh.
A stray bullet.
Pasco and Sanchez immediately knelt beside us.
"Through or stuck?" Julian asked.
I pressed my hand around the wound quickly. Still bleeding badly.
"We don't have time, the enemies starts to gain pacing" I muttered.
Pasco ripped a strip from the spare cloth we carried and wrapped it tightly around Roberto's thigh while I pressed down to slow the bleeding.
Roberto bit down on his sleeve but didn't cry out again.
Good soldier.
"Can you stand?" I asked.
He nodded weakly.
Julian and Sanchez lifted him under the shoulders.
Behind us, the American camp continued to erupt with shouting and gunfire.
A flare suddenly shot into the sky, bathing the nearby fields in harsh white light.
"They're searching now," Julian said quietly.
"Then we move faster," I replied.
Keeping low, we began our retreat toward the village.
Roberto limped heavily between the two men supporting him, but he kept moving.
Every step away from the burning camp felt like a small victory.
Only when the trees finally swallowed us back into darkness did the sound of American gunfire begin to fade behind us.
I glanced back once.
The camp was still burning. It was fortunate that the night indeed is a bit darker than usual. Then I noticed.
"Tonight the sky offered us a rare advantage. There was no moon—only a field of faint stars above the dark hills." Todri explains.
No wonder, Teniente Todri asked me to do it now. Let them deal with their own chaos tonight.