[size=16pt]TRAGEDY AT ODUEKE[/size]
K. C. E.

NIGERIAN forces led by Brigadier Kayode Lawal were making significant progress in the late months of 1969 and early 1970. From their headquarters at Ajaokuta they had advanced deep into enemy territory and had aided in the capture of key rebel towns like Nsukka and Enugu.

They had skirmished with the rebels at several battle-sites and had won most of their engagements largely due to the wit and military brilliance of their commanding officer.

Brigadier Lawal was a tall, handsome man of twenty-nine years of age. Fresh out of the Nigerian Military Academy, where he had graduated with distinguished honors, he was quickly promoted due to his cordial relationship with his superiors and was thus entrusted command of the 9th Kaduna Brigade. He wore sleek, gold-rimmed sunshades and had a low, neat haircut. His uniform was always crisp and neat—even in the heat of battle. His natural cool and finesse earned him the nickname “Gay Kay” as well as the trust and respect of his comrades. He was the type of man who would order his troops to charge into hell and they’d comply without giving it a second thought. Gay Kay commanded not only the bodies of his troops but their hearts as well.

And so it happened that shortly after celebrating New Years with his fellow military men at an Officer’s Ball in Lokoja, he received a letter from Central Command telling him that he was to return to his station in rebel territory and await further orders.

Brigadier Gay Kay complied. He kissed his girl friend goodbye, boarded the next motorcar heading to the East and immediately returned to his men. The following day being January the 4th, he received orders to penetrate into rebel territory and link up with Brigadier Ibrahim at the rebel-held town of Umunze. However, unknown to him, the small village of Odueke, which was fortified by the ever-shrinking and scanty rebel army, lay on the road to Umunze. Early the next morning, Gay Kay and his men began the perilous march.

….

Lieutenant Colonel Ifeanyi Nwagu was faced with an impossible task. Biafran High Command had stationed him at his hometown of Odueke and with his small band of about two-hundred men (a large percentage of which were boys), he was responsible for the defense of Odueke and its environs.

“You’re not serious, sir,” was the response he gave to Brigadier General Anthony Osuagwu when he was briefed of his task, nearly a month ago. Normally, he wouldn’t have made such a disrespectful and dangerous statement for fear of being court-martialed, but as things were he could afford to do so. Biafra was running critically low on officers and it could afford to lose no more.

“And why am I not serious?” asked the General quite calmly as he lit a cigar to his mouth.

“Sir, my regiment has been severely weakened and our supplies are critically low. You know we’re not in the right shape to engage the enemy, sir.”

The General took a long puff of his cigar and exhaled slowly. He stood up from his desk and walked to the Lieutenant Colonel and slung his hands around his shoulder. “Nwagu, let’s not deceive ourselves. You and I know that. The people at the top ask and our job is to give them what they ask for. Your regiment happened to be the only available one for the job. Chukwuemeka and Nsofor are busy away at Umunneochi and Awka.” He took another puff on his cigar and then looked at the Lieutenant Colonel with dry eyes.

Somehow, he understood the meaning of that look. It meant that he understood that his mission was impossible; it meant suicide. By stationing him at his hometown, Biafran High Command expected him to fight his hardest since it was after all his hometown. He was expected to die defending his two motherlands, Biafra and Odueke.

How cunning, he thought. His superiors had planned this out to ensure that he would not stray from the path of bravery. Retreat was not an option for how could a righteous and self-respecting man such as himself live and accept the fact that he had fled from his hometown and allowed it to fall into enemy hands? His fate and that of the two-hundred-and-something men under his command were sealed.

When he had received word from his spies up north that enemy troops were moving southward in their direction, Lt. Col. Nwagu ordered his men to hastily set up fortifications and obstacles and block the main road.

He knew that if the main roads could be blocked then the enemy would not be able to utilize their armoured vehicles and he could somehow delay their advance. Under the hot sun of January the 12th the young boys and men of his regiment took to the roads and began planting homemade anti-tank mines and explosives known as ogbunigwe. They endured harsh rains as they cut down trees and used them to set up successive road blocks and obstacles, and on the evening of January the 14th they retreated to their defensive positions on the forested hills on the outskirts of Odueke.

Early the following morning, as he sat in his bunker attempting to repair the radio which had been damaged by the previous day’s rain, Lt. Col. Nwagu was approached by a young sixteen-year-old private by the name of Uche.

“Sa, ha abiala! They have come!” Uche yelled as he barged into the bunker, trying to catch his breath. Dropping the radio, Nwagu rushed out of the bunker and went out into the open. He clearly spotted the Nigerian troops making their way up the road through his binoculars.

“Alert the engineers and have them detonate the explosives!” he said to his servant. The young boy rushed away and went to do as he was told. But for some unknown reason, the detonation never came. Whether the boy had lost his way or was somehow killed no one knows.

Nwagu grew flustered.

That stupid boy.

He will surely see pepper once all this is over.

He ordered his men to leave their positions on the hill and move into the thick bushes below in order to ambush the enemy troops as they passed. They humbly obeyed. What brave boys, he thought. Before taking position in the bushes, he made the Sign of the Cross and sprinkled dirt on his forehead. Both God and his ancestors were with him. If he were to die, let it be on his own land.

When the first enemy motorcar drove past the bushes, the sound of popping gunfire came suddenly and swiftly. The car burst into flames, sending the Nigerian troops into a wild frenzy. Nwagu and his men picked them off one by one with their outdated bolt-action rifles until they ran out of ammunition. By then the Nigerians had stabilized themselves and had found cover and pinpointed the source of the attack. All around, twigs snapped and bullets blazed through the air, bouncing off of trees and rocks. The Biafrans, having run out of ammunition were pinned down in the woodland and the Nigerians pressed their numerical advantage and advanced onward.

Soon, the fighting became brutish and descended into ugly hand-to-hand combat. Men who had once been countrymen clashed fists and battered each other with the butts of their rifles. The cling clang of bayonets could be heard above the wailing of men and boys who had been mortally wounded. On all sides of Nwagu, men fell down to their deaths. In a flash of an instant he saw a young face as it dropped onto the dirt ground and breathed its last breath.

Why should such brave souls die and he live?

Nwagu, taking sudden shame in the fact that he was hiding behind a boulder while boys half his age were sacrificing their lives, sprinted forward in a burst of foolish bravery towards the enemy lines. With his saber clenched in his right hand he hacked away vigorously and killed two men. As he was about going for his third, he felt a sharp pain in his chest and was knocked onto his back and into the world of his ancestors.

….

“It’s a pity,” remarked Gay Kay, as he and his colleague inspected the village of Odueke later that evening. “The armistice was signed earlier today. All they had to do was just sit tight and listen to their radios.”

“It sure is a pity, sir.”

Would appreciate it if you guys gave feedback. Thanks. Feel free to read my other stories as well.

Another good one,odumchi,but why don't u conclude one story before starting another.And I think the Nigerian Military Academy as u called it was actually called Nigerian Military Training College(NMTC)back then.Thanks.

Beretta92: Another good one,odumchi,but why don't u conclude one story before starting another.And I think the Nigerian Military Academy as u called it was actually called Nigerian Military Training College(NMTC)back then.Thanks.

Thanks for the name. I'll look it up. And all of my stories are short stories so that's how they end.

odumchi nice one but there has to be more to your stories.try make it longer

femmyadje: odumchi nice one but there has to be more to your stories.try make it longer

yeah

I like the story but try and show instead of telling us.

tubolancer: I like the story but try and show instead of telling us.

Show how?