I woke up in the morning, and went to the post. It was a bright day at the beginning of spring. When I walked down the road, I enjoyed the lively green of the field, before the summer takes its toll. Flowers blossomed there in the colours of white, yellow and violet, and I could hear the squeak of the birds that resided on the trees and woke up before sunset. Drops of dew shined on the shrubs and flowers, and the ground was still moist from the rain that had fallen there, a day before. The sun just began to shine, and in the sky there was a war between the light‐blue shade brought by the sun and the dark red of the night.
In my opinion, it was a perfect day to launch missiles at the Enemy’s soldiers. However, that was not what I intended to do that day.
As I approached the post, I saw from afar that two of my comrades were oiling one of the post’s mortars. They were so busy, that they did not notice me, until they heard me tell them “Good Morning.”.
“Good morning, the Member of the Organisation.”, they replied while turning around to see me. “How’s it going?” added one of them.
“Top of the world. I’m going to quit today.”
“Really? That’s a shame! ‘We’ll miss you, bro’, like they say.”
“Likewise. But everybody needs to move on, eventually.”
And so I walked away, and entered the office of the post’s commander. The commander sat by the table, and read a pamphlet that he held in his hand. It was probably one of the many reports and tutorials that he received. After I entered, he placed the pamphlet on the table, turned to look at me and said: “Good morning, the Member! Look, I read a couple of papers now, and they explain that we should initiate a transfer of…”
“Good morning to you too, Sir.”, I interrupted him. “Excuse me for interrupting you, but I don’t think it’s relevant any more.”
“Why?”
“Because I came here to file my resignation.”
“No way! Just ten minutes ago, the other Member of the Organisation resigned as well.”
“Really?”, I asked him.
“Yes. He is now bidding the other members farewell.”
“Why did he resign?”
“This and that. He said something that he couldn’t take all the stress any longer, and that he wishes to find a stable job and raise a family. He also noted that ‘it was fun to serve in the Organisation, but it’s time to move on’. ”
“Okay.”
“Yes, but as they say: when it rains, it pours. Well, just sign here, and I’ll take care of all the other paperwork.”
After I started filling it, I said to him: “About the salary you paid me…”
“Forget it!”, the commander said and went on: “During your service in the Organisation, you’ve done a great service to your people and your country. You have earned your pay, even if not honestly, and we thank you that you have joined our ranks, in the first place. I just hope that during your civil life, you will continue to maintain the spirit of the Organisation and its philosophy.”
“I’ll do my best, sir.” I told him hastily while I signed the form. Then I rose up and we shook hands. I thought a little about what the commander just said, and then recalled something, and sat down again. “Look, it may no longer be so relevant.”, I said to him. “However, I’ve been a member of the Organisation for two years, and nobody ever told me what the philosophy of the Organisation was. What is it, really?”
“Ah… the philosophy? I am surprised that it hadn’t been presented to you yet. In any case, I’d be happy to enlighten you, the ex‐Member of the Organisation. Now, how should I start? Oh, I know. So here goes:
The philosophy of the Organisation is very simple: our goal is to fight the Enemy with all our power. It is a holy war of our people against that criminal nation, and even though the well being of our people and its future are not at stake, it’s a war of the utmost importance. At least according to what we are told all the time, or that we keep telling each other.
We must sacrifice everything in order to achieve this purpose by our struggle with the Enemy, even the lives of the members of our people, for whose interest we supposed;y are acting in the first place. And we have indeed done it successfully. When I look back I realise one thing: we have been doing it and we are still doing it, despite all the difficulties. True – we had some difficult times. But they were nothing compared to the almost impossible times, during which we usually have to operate.
However, since we began fighting the Enemy, we’ve noticed the existence of a major obstacle that hinders us. Actually it’s not a physical obstacle but a metaphysical and abstract term, and, as such, is supposed to be of no significance. Yet, the popularity of this term made dealing with it an inevitable fact. My friend, even if we had accepted a very mild interpretation of it, we would have found ourselves bounded by all sorts of invisible and unreasonable rules; we would have been in infinite conflicts and on top of all, the ambition of our soldiers to fight would have declined enormously. This term is ‘Morality’.
Therefore, we have decided to accept the philosophical equation ‘Morality = no morality’.”
“Wait a second!” I interrupted him, “Are you referring to the assumption that the ends justify the means?”
“Yes! Yes!” said the commander excitedly. “To that precisely. In any case, accepting this equation places us in a dilemma. The reason for that is that it’s a complete contradiction of Aristotle’s famous treatise ‘Organum’ which states, among other things, that:
1. A is A.
2. A is not not‐A.
Thus, we fully deny the Organum, or at least don’t view it as indispensable.”
“In that case, it is excellent.”, I said to him. “I read the Organum of Aristotle and although it is a very interesting document in the field of pure logic, I must say that I also had some reservations about its correctness. I’m very glad that the Organisation rejects it, because, in my opinion, it may facilitate its activity considerably. For instance, if A could be not‐A then because the members of the Organisation are not the soldiers of the Enemy, they can in fact be its soldiers. In my opinion, if you kill each other, you can save a lot of resources, because the Enemy would be right within your reach. Plus, there will not be a risk of any casualties, since all the men that can possibly get hurt will belong to the Enemy’s forces. The element of members risking their lives while infiltrating the Enemy’s lines will not exist either, nor will the possibility of the Enemy bombarding you.”
“Amazing!”, cried the commander as he stood up in excitement. “Why didn’t I think of that before? I’ll make sure your proposal is implemented right away. Moreover, I will inform all the other posts and the Organisation’s headquarters about it. It will be a turn‐point in our war against the Enemy. I thank you, the ex‐Member, you have truly enlightened me.”
“The pleasure is all mine, sir. Bye!”, I told him while rising from my chair.
”Good bye to you, too.”, he said while barely interrupting the arrangements he started in order to implement my proposal.
I left the room, and then spent some time at the other parts of the post. I parted from the other members, and also found the other member that resigned that day. I suggested that we’ll go back together, and we indeed left the post’s yard and started walking on the path that leads back to the village.
We started chatting, but five minutes did not pass, before we heard a sound of an explosion coming from the post, just as we climbed a hill that overlooked it. We turned around and watched in terror how the members of the Organisation, the ones who served in the Post, started killing each other. They split into two opposing sides and fought each other to the knife with every weapon in the post: guns, grenades, mortars, bombs. They even blew up the missile storage.
Eventually, only one member was left alive, and he stood on the roof of the post’s ruin and jumped happily, while holding his machine gun over his head. Then, the commander came out of his room and shot him three times at the stomach using a pistol. The member fell to the ground, dead.
The commander returned his pistol to its sheath, and went back into his office. We heard him write something on his typewriter, and after he went out, he placed a letter into the mailbox of the post. We assumed it was a report, intended for the Organisation’s headquarters, regarding the successful operation we had just witnessed. After he put the letter in the mailbox, he turned towards his office while rubbing his hands. Afterwards, he took out his pistol, turned around, and shot a bullet at his head.
After the other ex‐Member and I witnessed all this, we shrugged, turned around, and continued to walk towards the village.