The Astana Travelogue: Chapter Two: Civil War

Along with my friends, I took a trip to Lastonia. During my stay, a civil war broke out between the government and rebels. We evacuated the region and went into the mountains to a remote village.

That night, as the sounds of war could be heard in the distance, my friends and I attempted to sleep in the hotel of the village. The village was small, had only about 20 people, and lacked running water and electricity. Nobody else from Lastonia had decided to shelter there, and it was only now that I thought about why. They would know the land very well, and had intentionally avoided this village. There was something about this place. My best guess was that it was a rebel stronghold. As I sat in the dark, I heard voices speaking in Lastonian. They were coming from outside, in another building. I had learned some Lastonian, enough to make out the words "Tourists", "Government", and "Eliminate".

"We have to go now!" I shouted as quietly as I could. My friends groggily got up and packed our stuff. As voices and footsteps approached the hotel, we snuck out the room through another door silently. We were in a hallway, which led to an iron door. We ran toward it as people entered the hotel room and cursed in Lastonian. Together, we flung open the iron door and breathed in the cool night air. As the door to the hotel room crashed open, we exited the hotel onto the rocky ground. And that was when the battle began.

As we ran away from the village and down a hill through the countryside, explosions rocked the mountaintop where the village was located. I saw houses go up in flames as missiles struck the ground and buildings. Cars drove away as the village burned. A group of Lastonian army tanks drove up to the village, their inhabitants firing bullets. One group of soldiers was heading towards us. We stayed still as they approached. "We will have to detain you," one said. "You will all be interrogated."

As the van drove along the highway, I noticed for the first time a peaceful quiet. Too peaceful. While in Lastonia, I had become accustomed to frequent explosions and gunfire. Now, there was none of that.

"What happened to all of the fighting?" I asked the soldiers stationed in the back of the van.

"We contained it," one said. "The rebels have been driven out of this district. The fighting is still ongoing in the North and East. We are in the progress of clearing them out of the capital. In the meantime, we will take you to Lostavia."

"Is that a city?" I asked.

He nodded. "Yes. There are currently more than 600 rebels being interrogated in Lostavia. You will join them."

I asked him another question. "How bad is the war?"

The soldier sighed. "Very bad. The worst in 12 years. At least 400 people have died in the past 3 days."

A few hours later, my friends and I sat in a dark room on the third floor of an office building in Lostavia. Out the small, grimy window, I could see the rest of the town. Police vehicles and tanks filled the roads, and in the distance I could see a few other towns.

"I will ask you some basic questions," the interrogation officer said. "Each of you must write your answers on a pad of paper and hand them to me."

He passed out pencils and paper to each of us.

"First, write down your names and countries of residence."

We wrote that down.

"Now, your reason for entering Lastonia." We obeyed.

"Now, write down your reason for being in the village."

I wrote down my answer.

He collected the paper and nodded. An aide copied the writings into a ledger and placed it in a bookshelf.

"You are free to go," the officer said. But we were not. For at that moment, the war changed-and not in our favor.

I heard the scream of a missile as I sat in the chair. The next thing I knew, the building shook with a bang and smoke filled the air. I heard a loud boom, followed by crashes as sections of the building fell to the ground. The ceiling collapsed on us and I heard more explosions.

We found ourselves in a pocket of air. Luckily, we were all together. I could see some light in the distance, which meant we would have a path to the outside.

Sirens filled the air, hundreds of them. I felt the air growing hot and smoky. One of the soldiers grabbed a radio and spoke into it in Lastonian.

"We should be out in 5 or 10 minutes," he said. "In the meantime, sit tight."

There was a fire somewhere, although I could not guess the proximity. I waited as the smoke grew more intense, until someone found us. It was a paramedic, and he shouted for help. Four more police officers dragged us out into the afternoon air.

The scene outside was shocking. The office building we had just exited was a pile of rubble. The street was filled with ambulances, tanks, and police cars. Another building was on fire, and firefighters were attempting to put it out.

That night we rode through the countryside. This time, it was not quiet. Hundreds of tanks followed us. We were going to a remote village. They were going to the northeast of Lastonia. The rebels had set up a camp there and were preparing to attack.

Along with the tanks, a mass of cars, both civilian and military, drove along with us. The southwest corner of Lastonia was the safest, farthest from the rebels. The government had ordered an evacuation to that area. For 2 kilometers around the rebel-controlled area, the land was devoid of human life. Villages were empty. No children ran around.

At the village, where a temporary camp had been set up, a general of the Lastonian army rounded up hundreds of people.

"We will win," he said. "We will crush the rebellion within the week. May Lastonia prosper!"

That concludes Chapter Two of my travelogue. Chapter Three will be out soon.