The setting is Canada and the Drab, Canada. The weather is hot, and the area is full of summer, which is the only season when summer lasts in the Canadian Drab all year round. The climate is like an oven around at noon. The hot weather is full of classical summer.
Inside the small office are many (about seven) high ranking officers of the military. The man who calls the shots is a Lieutenant General, at least in character, who is the head of the military. He has all the powers of a head of household, like rules and regulations.
The man who sits in front of him is a Lieutenant Colonel, white, about 45 years old, stern, not warm, and his mood is not good either. It is because Canada is on war with itself. Canada is at war with itself, but it is not something he would never want to leave.
It is also a war of stupidity.
The Lieutenant Colonel is done speaking and looks down at his desk. The head of household exchanges a look with his general and looks at his lieutenant colonel with a smile. The general is waiting for his first officer to comment on what has happened today. But the leutenant colonel does not say anything. There is absolute silence in the room.
It is said that the generals sit pretty, as they have all the powers, but here it is not like that. The general sits in front of the lieutenant colonel, who is his boss, not the other way round.
The general is late middle age, and feels weak, as the leutenant colonel is not just the boss of a small unit, but a subordinate to the military, the most important one, and he is the leader of his organization. They should speak, but the lieutenant colonel has a ruling that stops them from speaking.
The ruling is that there is no room for any kind of conversation between equals because the conversation is between equals. It all goes silent, except, almost hidden by the silence, there are cries, screams, swearing in English and French from the subordinates.
The general's deputy is a man who has had a very bad day, the head of household can see it slouched and bowed. He is about the same age as the head of household. But he has not had a bad day. The sign that shows he himself is struggling is he is not as sad, not as broken, not as disillusioned as the other man. He, the general's deputy, is sitting straight, standing, and speaking in a calm way.
"We have a patrol and they got hit, they got hit by the enemy. They got hit hard and they got killed by their own bullets." The general's deputy said.
There is a silence in the room that makes you think the heat from outside is punishment, or treason against the ever changing and cold weather of the area. The general turns over the papers in his hands, and places them in front of him, the papers which show the injured and dead.
The general's deputy turns his head, looks at the head of household, and looks at the lieutenant colonel who is his boss, and then he looks at the general, and presses on. There is not one ounce of sympathy from him as he describes the loss of eight soldiers. The sorrow is in his eyes and his voice.
"We got two soldiers on their feet and we are going to ask them if they would like to go back to the front. But they won't, because the enemy was waiting for them. Maybe there is a rule about it, an ordinance, but I can't remember, there are so many of them."
The movement of the cannon is painfully slow, and looks tired, its armor has been broken down by other cannons, and small bullets, but the cannon was not destroyed, because the engine works very well.
