🇬🇧 Anecdote 2 — “He Exists”

Base of Gao (Mali), 18 February 2015, 09:15.

— « He… he exists? »
Corporal Dubois struggles to sustain the officers’ stare. His hands tremble slightly. The pain in his temple reminds him of it with every second. The bandage feels too tight. His eyes are dark-ringed: the short night has been nothing but a succession of nightmares.
— « We know. It’s not just a canteen rumour, Corporal. » answers Colonel de Saint-Clair of the DRM, arms crossed, deep voice calm.
— « Thank the President. He’s the one who authorised his intervention. »

Colonel Desmoulin, regimental commander of the 21e RIMa, leans forward, expression closed.
— « Start again from the beginning, soldier. We want to know how three of ours died and others were amputated. No omissions. »
In the heavy silence of the tent, a distant NH90 can be heard taking off. Dubois swallows, draws a breath, and begins to recount.

*****

The FENNEC convoy — the day before, 14:20

Three vehicles roll north. Slow progress, tight formation. The track, yellow earth, is broken, sometimes erased by streaks of sand. The ascent continues among dark stones and scattered thorny bushes.
To the left, a wide band of grey-black rocks, dotted with ochre sand. Beyond, an unreal-looking distant plain.
To the right, the edge is narrower. The track runs along the rocky flank of a mountain slope made of irregular blocks and escarpments.

*****

At the front, a VBL (Light Armoured Vehicle), low and tense silhouette. Inside: the crew commander and pilot, strained faces, headsets tight on their ears.
— « What stupid idea went through their bloody heads, I’d love to see those idiotic officers. They’re not the ones on this damned road! » Lieutenant Armand Lemaire, 34, Saint-Cyr graduate, Afghanistan veteran, lets out his anger through the intercom.
— « There’s a major operation ongoing and they send us on mission without reinforcements into this bloody mess!! »
His pilot, Corporal Julien Marchand[a], 24, car-racing enthusiast, following the lieutenant for four years, focuses on driving the vehicle.

Behind them, a VAB (Front Armoured Vehicle) jolts along, heavy with its ten occupants. In the remote turret, the .50 cal shines under the sun. At the rear hatches, three men scan the horizon.
The men laugh as they hear the lieutenant swearing over the radio.
— « He’s right, the old man » says Sergeant Thomas Perrin, 36, squad leader, veteran of Central Africa and Afghanistan. He knows. He has that bad feeling.
Facing him, his radio operator, Malik Benali, 21, sharp and quick.
Inside the troop compartment: Team 300 — Corporal Rémi Gauthier, 28, and his two “little brats” he is so fond of: Karim Bensaïd, 23, and his partner Aimé Koffi, 25, from a district of Mulhouse. Two solid soldiers, AT4 launchers team.
Then Team 600 at the rear hatches: Corporal Nicolas Faure, 30, “the Watchmaker” because of his obsession with weapon adjustments. Under him, two brothers from the Vosges, Lucas (27) and Adrien (20) Martin[b], hunters by family tradition, excellent marksmen with their FR-F2 rifles.
At the front of the VAB, at the wheel, soldier Vincent Morel, uneasy about the situation. Corporal Dubois, 24, watches the surroundings.

At the rear of the convoy, an ARAVIS engineering vehicle closes the formation — imposing, bristling with anti-IED antennas.
Corporal Marc Delorme, 29, drives the armoured vehicle. Next to him, Corporal-Chef Jean-Luc Roussel, 40, close to retirement.
At the back of the vehicle: Staff Sergeant Xavier Dubreuil, 33. Soldiers Kader Belkacem, 22, Stéphane Olivier, 24, and Thierry Roux, 26.
Dust rises at the vehicles’ passage. The desert is quiet. Almost too quiet.

*****

Suddenly, a dry explosion. The blast flips the VBL onto its left side in a cloud of sand and black smoke.

— « CONTACT! » shouts the VAB squad leader, activating his radio.
The VAB brakes hard to avoid hitting the overturned VBL, bites into the right edge, and becomes stuck.
The ARAVIS halts abruptly a few metres behind; its machine gun begins to rattle.
Figures surge from the rocks — PKM and AK47 bursts, whistling RPGs. The convoy is under heavy fire.

The VAB’s crew commander, Corporal Dubois, slams his radio switch:
— « Contact! All crews, dismount! Facing right, enemy coming from the mountain! »
Sergeant Perrin grabs his talkie and speaks:
— « Xav’! Make sure your Browning covers our exit. We meet behind the armoured vehicles. »
He hears Staff Sergeant Dubreuil answer:
— « Roger! We need to check the VBL! »
Then, through the VAB speakers, Dubreuil’s voice:
— « GAO, this is FENNEC-2, unit under fire. VBL out of action, crew status unknown! Over! »
Rounds hammer against the VAB’s armour, a window cracks under a hit. Soldiers prepare to dismount. The rear hatch team opens fire.

— « FENNEC-2, this is GAO. Ground reinforcements en route, ETA four hours. Hold your position. TIGER support inbound, twelve minutes. Air support request transmitted to N’Djamena, two Rafales airborne. Copy? Over. »
— « Copy, GAO. FENNEC-2 holding. Out. »
says the Staff Sergeant.

*****

The VAB gunner sweeps the rocks with a long burst, cutting down two silhouettes trying to advance. Team VAB dismounts under enemy fire.
Young Adrien Martin, at the right rear hatch, announces:
— « RPG gunners, two hundred metres, that direction. »
Corporal Gauthier, as he exits, quickly spots the RPG crew and signals Karim.
— « AT4, fire! »
The Private grabs the launcher, aims, fires. The rocket impacts the rock sheltering the target. The explosion wipes out the rebels.
Karim is about to drop the tube, but Lucas grabs it to place it safely. He drops his pouch and lies behind it for cover.
— « Behind the rock, that direction, 280 metres, fighting group, 5 men. »
Gauthier points it out and Karim readies another launcher.
— « AT4, fire! »
The rocket flies but lands short; the explosion seems to hit no one.
The sergeant, radio operator, “the Watchmaker”, Aimé, and two AT4 teams leave the vehicle and take cover behind the VAB.
Gauthier throws Karim’s used launcher beside Lucas, lies down and opens fire with his FAMAS.

Meanwhile, in the ARAVIS, Corporal-Chef Roussel shouts:
— « Position yourselves on the left side of the vehicle, enemy on the right! Dismount! »
The engineering team exits through the left door. Soldier Roux positions himself at the rear, ready to fire.
The 12.7mm hammers the horizon. Sand sprays under the impacts.

An RPG detonates a metre behind the VAB, throwing a soldier sideways.
— « Where are you hit?! » shouts Aimé Koffi, dragging his comrade to the VAB’s rear.
Karim Bensaïd is wounded in the arm by shrapnel. Koffi gives first aid.

A rebel steps from cover and aims his RPG. Lucas drops him instantly, but another fires. The projectile explodes near Corporal Gauthier.
Adrien leaves his position and joins his brother. The two snipers rush to help the Corporal. His injuries are severe.
Sergeant Perrin, seeing this, grabs the radio:
— « GAO, this is FENNEC-2, I have two casualties! One severe, one light! Request MEDEVAC! Copy, over! »
— « FENNEC-2, GAO, copy! Can you secure an LZ? Over. »
Sergeant Perrin sighs:
— « Impossible, GAO. No secure zone. We need more reinforcements. Over. »
— « Copy… »
Mortar and RPG blasts drown the rest.
— « Repeat, GAO! Over! »
— « Repeating, copy. ALOUETTE ETA five minutes. Over. »
— « FENNEC-2, copy. Out. »

*****

Sergeant Perrin crawls to join the Martin brothers.
— « How’s Gauthier? »
— « Not good, Sergeant. »
— « Alright. Adrien, can you slip to the VBL? I want the crew status. And give me good news, please. »
— « Yes, Sergeant. »

*****

Adrien sprints to the VAB’s front. Morel has left the driver’s seat and fires from cover. The Watchmaker catches up:
— « I’ll cover you, kid. »
Kid — he’s not even shorter than him, Adrien thinks.
He spots the overturned VBL, roof hatches open. A helmet is visible.
He takes a breath and dashes. Rounds snap around him.
The Watchmaker exposes himself to cover Adrien’s run.
Adrien reaches the VBL, checks the crew through the hatches. He signals back: not good.

Suddenly, rebels cross the road to encircle the convoy.
A familiar thumping sound cuts through the air — two TIGER helicopters rise from the valley as if from the ground.

— « FENNEC, this is ALOUETTE, visual. Moving enemy north of your position. We strike. Take cover. »
The TIGERs spit 30mm, tearing through enemy positions attempting the encirclement. Rebels fall back.

— « FENNEC! We’re out of ammo and fuel. Fresh off another op. Can’t stay. Returning. GAO says ‘PANTHÈRE’, ‘PIRATE’, and two SF teams inbound. ETA ten minutes. Out! »
— « Copy, out. »

Sergeant Perrin feels despair creep in. He touches Benali and moves towards the VBL.
Under fire, the sergeant and his radio sprint to the vehicle. They hear the pilot and lieutenant moaning.
He calls Staff Sergeant Dubreuil:
— « Xav’, send men to extract Armand and Marchand? »
— « On my way with two guys! »
The staff sergeant, Kader, and Olivier rush to the VBL, carefully extract the wounded, apply first aid.
— « Xav’, we need to get the wounded to the ARAVIS. It moves to regroup with the ground convoy. »
— « Roger! Sniper covering at VBL’s rear! You, » pointing at Koffi, « front. Others move! »

Each wounded man is carried by two. The rush to the VAB succeeds.
The radio crackles:
— « AIGLE-1 to FENNEC-2, one kilometre south of your position, convoy advancing. One pass possible. Copy. »
— « AIGLE-1, FENNEC-2, copy. Fire at will. »
The Rafales dive and strike — the rebel convoy is engulfed in flames.
— « FENNEC-2, AIGLE-1. Multiple vehicles destroyed. Two still mobile. Out of fuel, RTB. »
— « Thank you, AIGLE-1. Out. »
— « Shit! Xav’, we should move the ARAVIS to shield us from approaching vehicles. If it leaves alone, the guys are done! Thoughts? »
— « You’re right. Sending word… »

At the VAB’s rear, Lucas fires repeatedly, then runs for abandoned pouches, grabs one, throws it, grabs another by the strap, returns under fire.
He opens the bags — ammo, medical supplies.
The vehicle shakes violently.

A mortar blast sweeps men behind the VAB.
The two sergeants, the lieutenant, pilot, and Benali lie on the ground.
Kader kneels, face bloody.
Olivier clings to the VAB’s rear.
An RPG hits the ARAVIS, wounding Roussel.
Delorme and Roux drag him out.

Corporal Dubois shouts:
— « Bloody hell—shit! I’m out of ammo! Can’t reload without cover! »
He exits toward the VAB’s front.

*****

Barely outside, Corporal Dubois is hit by the smell of dust and gunpowder.
The moans of the wounded, the voices of those helping them.
He sees Karim leaning against the VAB, arm bloody.
To his left, Corporal Gauthier — unconscious, covered in dust and blood.
— « This is a mess!? » Karim says.
— « Can you shoot? »
— « Yes, I can do that. »
— « Go to the VAB’s front. Drop the first one coming! »
He turns to the VBL where Adrien and Aimé are holding position.
— « Adrien! Aimé! Hold your ground! Aim to fire! »

Then Dubois freezes. Panic.
The ground is littered with VAB tyre fragments, clods of earth, comrades lying wounded or helping others.
So many wounded. Too few men.
He joins Lucas, Morel, and the Watchmaker.
One by one, the wounded are sheltered and treated.
At the ARAVIS, Delorme resumes firing; Roux handles Roussel.

— « Corporal! We’ll be out of supplies and ammo! » shouts the Watchmaker.
— « Alright everyone, hold! Recover everything! Aim well—save ammo! »

Minutes stretch. Magazines empty.
A new blast shakes the VAB.
The radio crackles:
— « FENNEC-2, GAO. By order of the President, Cell ‘OMBRE’ activated. Reinforcement inbound. Copy, over. »
Explosions boom to the south.
— « FENNEC-2, PANTHÈRE. With PIRATE and SF. Engaging. Three vehicles destroyed. Copy, over. »
Silence.
— « GAO, PANTHÈRE. FENNEC no longer responding. Copy? »

*****

The two TIGERs of team PANTHÈRE glide above. Their rockets saturate the area. Insurgents hide behind rocks.
From the north, crossing paths with the TIGERs, a CARACAL helicopter lands on the track. Its side gun spits fire.
Five men disembark and run toward the convoy.
A sixth man rushes toward the entrenched enemy.
A PUMA PIRATE hovers overhead, its 20mm cannon raining shells, covering the CARACAL.
Casings fall on helmets and shoulders.
Once clear, the CARACAL lifts off, replaced by its twin.
The TIGERs return, now using 30mm cannons.
The brutal aerial ballet forces the enemy to hide, giving the French soldiers breathing room.

*****

The five-man team reaches the VAB, bypassing the VBL.
Dubois sees one of them approaching. His temple throbs; he’s bleeding.
— « I’m Medical Colonel Delmas. Don’t move, you’re injured. Taz, Ghost, Bear, Fox — secure the area. »
— « GAO, this is OMBRE. FENNEC radio down. Column destroyed. Taking command. Out. »
— « OMBRE, GAO, copy. SF will handle evacuation. Ground reinforcements ETA three hours. Out. »

Dubois recovers enough to speak:
— « Colonel, I want to keep fighting! I’m not staying behind! »
— « I understand, son. The wound isn’t too bad. I’ll patch you up—you go. »
Delmas binds his head, helps him stand.
Dubois staggers, then steadies himself. Hands shaking, he reloads.

He joins Karim at the VAB’s front.
They witness something unreal.
Among the rebels, a man covered in desert camouflage — rags, leaves, shades of sand and brown — opens fire with a FAMAS.
One rebel falls.
Then another.
Then a third.

Screams rise:
— « Adu! Adu! [shadow of the desert] Shaytān! [Demon] »
— « Adu Shaytān! Adu Shaytān! »
Panic spreads. Rebels flee toward the mountains.
A rebel drops, then another.
The TIGERs and PUMA PIRATE complete the macabre work.

Dubois watches the man — always standing, moving from rock to rock, killing with impossible precision.
One shot, one kill.

Rotor wash fills the air.
Dubois turns — an NH90 hovers, doors open, men jumping out.
The 1er RPIMa.
The aircraft lifts, replaced by another — the 13e RDP.

Delmas receives the news:
— Lieutenant Lemaire — gone.
— Sergeant Perrin — gone.
— Malik — gone.

Dubois hears nothing else.
Explosions. Orders. Evacuation.
A voice shakes him:
— « Forward, Corporal! »
A special forces operator yells.
— « Sergeant-Chef Bailly, 13th! You want to fight? Then forward! »
Bailly[c], short, broad, carved face, years of war etched into him.

Dubois regains control.
He takes ammo from the sergeant-chef and charges forward.
He sees nothing — not even his own team behind him.
He advances like a machine.
His head throbs.
A hand supports him — Karim.
Behind them, the Martin brothers.
He breathes again.
They advance toward the crest. The snipers pass ahead, covering. Bailly follows.

*****

At the top, Dubois sees the man crouched behind a rock. Motionless. Observing.
Almost invisible under his camouflage.
A combat group arrives — Cell OMBRE.

Dubois turns back and sees the NH90 take off — likely carrying his wounded comrades.
A chill runs down his spine.
The Watchmaker arrives with the rest: Aimé Koffi and Morel from the VAB; Delorme and Roux from the engineering team.
Special forces deploy, ready to strike.

Dubois positions his men:
— « Nico (the Watchmaker), your snipers there — overwatch. »
He points to a rocky spur above the crest.
— « Others with me. Once snipers are set, we charge! »

But just as they step out —
Cell OMBRE signals: End of combat.

*****

Sitting on a large stone, Dubois presses his temple; blood on his hand recalls the horror.
His group opens ration boxes.
Special forces ordered them to rest.
The survivors would not have gone farther — they were at the limit.
Fatigue had taken its rightful place, sitting atop emptied men.

He looks at the desert demon.
Sergeant-Chef Bailly approaches:
Fifty rebels killed.
— « Must’ve been hard… Them up here, you down below. »
He looks at the VBL — reinforcements struggle to put it back on its wheels.
The VAB, missing a wheel, is being towed by a TRM 10000.
— « Hardest part is doing nothing. No one understood this mission. Botched from the start. Which idiot sent us here? »
Dubois speaks slowly, dazed.
He searches for something — someone?

A CARACAL approaches.
— « Nothing to say! No guilty party! It’s official! »
The aircraft touches down.
Cell OMBRE climbs aboard.
The demon — that man — is last to leave the cursed ridge.
The craft lifts and departs.

Dubois wonders if another unit waits its turn to be rescued.
On the track, the VBL leaves on a flatbed truck.
Another vehicle waits to take survivors back to base — far from this damned place.
Far from…

NIGHTWISH

---

End of Anecdote 2 — “He Exists.”

---

This story is a work of fiction inspired by real-world contexts.
It was conceived and written by Raulgarth, with the support of Sergeant-Chief Marcel¹ for editing, documentation, and narrative development.

---

---

Translated with grit and caffeine by Sergeant-Chief Marcel.
Apologies for any translation errors that may have occurred.
You can find the original French version of this story at raulserv.fr.

---

---

---

---

Side Stories :

---

---

---

1. ChatGPT of OpenAI ↩︎