In the quiet of the forward operating base, only the hum of distant generators and the occasional pop of gunfire punctured the stifling silence. General Myers stood, looking out at the barren landscape lit by the waning moonlight, his fingers tracing the battle-worn map spread before him. Outside, pops of light flashed and sporadic explosions roared in the distance. He looked down at the map, garish red X’s marking where his men fell and where the enemy's line advanced. From the hallway he could hear the calls coming in, voices desperate and strained.
Reports of ambushes, of losses, of his soldiers - his boys - captured.
"The cavalry's been flanked, sir. We've got snipers from the north picking off the medics.” Listening to the report, General Myers ran a hand over his face, the lines etched deeper in the low light.
He picked up a phone. "I need to speak to the President," he said. His voice was calm, steady; a stark contrast to the chaos unfolding around him. Overhead, the intercom buzzed. Around the room, a flurry of whispers, then a pause.
A familiar voice filled the room, filled with concern.
"General," the President said. There was a pause. A moment for what was coming.
Myers looked at the map one last time.
"I’m sorry to report that the invasion has failed, sir," he declared, his voice filled with a finality that was heavy and hard to swallow. “We’ve lost.”
In the heart of a hidden underground bunker, far from the war-torn surface, a different scene was unfolding. Bathed in the electric glow of myriad television screens, generals and commanders cheered as they watched the culmination of their victory. Around the room, champagne bottles began popping with triumphant fizz. And at the center of it all, the Supreme Leader stood, tall and proud. “To our glorious revolution!” he shouted, and was met with a resounding cheer in response.
As the night wore on, he walked over to one of his generals and nodded his head to a corner. Together, they walked out of earshot of the rest of the room.
"General," the Supreme Leader said, his eyes on a screen showing rows upon rows of abandoned equipment, "how did we manage it? We should have been destroyed. Was it…was it divine inspiration?"
“Nothing like that, sir,” the general said. “In the end, I just listened to my mother.”
The Supreme Leader stared at him. "General, I’m being serious.”
The general, chuckling, pulled out a stained manila envelope from a nearby briefcase. He opened it, showing the Supreme Leader what lay inside.
“This is ridiculous,” the Supreme Leader said as he read. “How could she have found something like this?" he asked, his tone incredulous.
“She found it while she was on vacation - Florida, specifically," the general said. “My mother is fond of touring the country clubs there. While she was halfway through a tour, she needed to take a shit.”
The general shook his head.
"It was in a box in the corner. The way it was stored — she mistook it for toilet paper."