The Final Battle: Fighting Against Impossible Odds
The war was lost. The once-great Ottoman Empire had faded, and the enemy had already claimed victory. Now, they surrounded one of the last remaining Ottoman forts. Inside, three soldiers stood with their few surviving comrades, preparing for their final stand. Liaqat, Farman, and Muhammad Nabi were not just warriors; they were family. Liaqat and Farman were brothers, while Muhammad Nabi was their cousin. They had fought many battles together, but this was their greatest test.
The fort was small, barely holding together after weeks of attacks. Supplies were almost gone, and the soldiers were exhausted. Liaqat, the highest-ranking officer among them, knew they could not hold out much longer. He gathered Farman and Muhammad Nabi and looked them in the eyes.
“You must leave,” he said, his voice heavy with responsibility. “Go back to our village. There is no victory here, and if you stay, you will die.”
Farman’s face tensed. “Brother, we cannot leave you behind.”
Muhammad Nabi shook his head. “We fight together. We die together.”
Liaqat’s voice turned firm. “This is an order! If you survive, our sacrifice will not be in vain.”
With tears in their eyes, Farman and Muhammad Nabi lowered their heads. They knew their brother was right.
A Painful Farewell
Under the cover of darkness, Farman and Muhammad Nabi slipped away. Every step they took felt like betrayal, but they knew they had no choice. They moved through the ruined landscape, avoiding enemy patrols, their minds burdened with worry for their brother.
Two days later, the enemy launched their attack.
Liaqat and his soldiers fought fiercely, refusing to surrender. The sound of gunfire filled the air. Smoke and dust clouded their vision. Liaqat led his men with unwavering courage, his sword cutting through enemy lines, his pistol firing until it was empty. But they were outnumbered. One by one, his men fell.
A bullet struck Liaqat’s shoulder, sending him to the ground. He gritted his teeth and pushed himself up, refusing to fall. Another explosion sent him flying. His vision blurred, and his body screamed in pain. As darkness consumed him, the last thing he saw was the enemy raising their flag over the ruins of the post.
The Road Back
Meanwhile, Farman and Muhammad Nabi were on their way home when an uneasy feeling gripped them. They stopped in their tracks, looking back toward where they had left their brother.
“He’s still fighting,” Farman murmured.
Muhammad Nabi clenched his fists. “We have to go back.”
Without hesitation, they turned around. They moved quickly, pushing themselves harder than ever before. Hunger and exhaustion no longer mattered. All that mattered was reaching Liaqat.
When they arrived at the post, their worst fears came true. The battlefield was silent. Bodies lay scattered across the ground, the Ottoman flag trampled beneath enemy boots. Smoke still rose from the ruins.
“Liaqat!” Farman shouted, his voice raw with panic.
Muhammad Nabi scanned the fallen men, searching desperately. Then, he saw movement. A weak, shuddering breath.
“There!”
They ran to him.
Liaqat was barely alive. His uniform was stained with blood, his body battered and broken. But when he opened his eyes and saw them, a faint smile touched his lips.
“You came back,” he whispered.
Farman knelt beside him, gripping his hand tightly. “We will never leave you.”
Muhammad Nabi quickly assessed his wounds. “He’s weak, but we can still save him.”
With great effort, they lifted Liaqat onto their shoulders.
The Dangerous Journey Home
The road back to the village was dangerous. They moved through the night, avoiding enemy patrols. Liaqat drifted in and out of consciousness, his breathing weak. Farman and Muhammad Nabi carried him with determination, refusing to let him go.
After days of hardship, they finally reached their village. Their families rushed out to meet them, relief and joy in their eyes. Liaqat was taken in and cared for. Slowly, his strength returned.
The war was over, but their bond remained unbreakable. They had survived, not as defeated warriors, but as brothers who had chosen loyalty and love over fear.
In the end, it was not the battle that defined them, but the promise they kept to each other.
And that, above all, would never be lost.
