Each of us was made up of a few hundred men. We answered to the major, and similar majors answered to the general. There were four generals, and the war had three sides, with similar numbers on each side. So for any side, it was two-to-one against. Our goal was to reduce the numbers of the other sides, and to accomplish this, each side made an alliance with another side against the other side. But we all knew this. So every mission was covert, to try and disrupt the alliance between the other two sides, so that they would break their alliance and fight each other, doing our work for us. But we did it to them, and each of them did it to both of our alliances. We even tried to go deep under and disrupt relations between soldiers on the same side. We did it to both sides, and they both did it to us. But in eight years of war, not one person died. Not even by accident. Even if we all lived in a quiet town in the Midwest together, with women too, of course, more people would have died than this. Then I told my major we should get men to fight men, since army against army wasn't working. He had me flogged for insubordination. So I told the general we should go deep deep under, and make men in the same bunk room fight each other. He gave me a medal for that idea, and put me on sweet detail for a month. Then our leader got wind of the idea, after it failed, and accused me of being a spy, trying to disrupt our own side by suggestion such subterfuge. I was flogged again. Two other guys in weird clothes were flogged at the same time. Then I was sent to each of the other sides to make the same suggestion. I was flogged again, then sent back by each one to do the same to ours. I was flogged again. Still, no one died. Things were getting desperate. We had been fighting over trade agreements, but civilians kept on trading after we declared war, and declared it again, and it was declared on us. Civilians had managed to succeed where we failed, killing each other on a daily basis in their cities. Trade was good. Productivity was high, prices were low, people were generally happy. Our sides were too evenly matched. Like three sticks leaning against each other, holding each other up. Our spies, who may have worked for each side, too, or all three, one really good, fast spy, informed us that we each had the exact same number of men, right down to the number of boots: all three sides had five one-legged soldiers in their motor pools. If just one man would die, the other two sides would take advantage of the power shift and finally attack. I recovered from the floggings, and deserted. I met two guys on the road, deserters too. Damnit. I joined with the another side, suggested they let me go very deep under and suggest to our major that we shoot of one our own men to lure the other side into complacency, a false feeling of superiority, to touch things off. I called it operation Hubris. They flogged me I said I'd even volunteer to be the one who got shot. I was flogged again and given kitchen detail for a month. So I deserted, and joined with the other other side. So did two other guys. I don't know if they were the same guys or not. But I saw them on the road, and if they were the same, they were in disguise, like me. They were covered in bruises, too. In my third army, I was immediately flogged and given kitchen detail for a month, until I volunteered to go very extra special deep under on a top secret ultra night eyes mission. I was to go to another side, volunteer to go to the third side, then publicly desert and join up with the third side, leading the third side to think I could give them information on the second side which would be false and in exchange for information on the third side themselves. I got as far as changing sides once when I was awarded a medal and given sweet detail for two months, so I decided not to complete my mission. Each of the other generals on both the other sides had done the same thing, so that eleven other guys got as far as I did and made sweet detail for two months. Then our majors came to each of us and told us our abandoning the mission had been planned all along by the extra dark special deep under secret eye spy major from the side we had started on, in an effort to get one person to desert and upset the balance. It would have worked, too, except that every major had been in on it and had switched too, and the generals knew it, and had given the spy generals commendations to make them stay where they ended up, and allowed them to flog as many soldiers as they wanted. I got flogged out of this, so I decided to assassinate our leader I met two other soldiers on the road who'd had the same idea, and we talked as we walked. They'd been flogged, given sweet detail, kitchen detail, commended, given medals, been court martialled, been found not guilty, allowed to sue the officer who brought the charges, lost that case too, and each had gone awol as many times as me. Exactly as many times. I was going to give them my gun and my belt when we had to split up and head for our respective leader's houses, my boots and helmet. But we never split up. There was only one house. Only one leader. So we flogged him.