The visit of the drill instructor pretty much went as my people had already told me about in advance. At first he called for volunteers to step forward to prove their battle prowess in a one on one. Since the drill instructor, as I had been told, was one of the few champions to ever make it out of here, he was one mean son of a gun and those who got uppity got taken down so fast I barely even had the time to process he was moving. Rumors had it, that he was using magic to be this strong and fast. Before I had a hard time believing it, but after seeing him in action, there really was little other explanation. Besides, while it may not be as ubiquitous in this world as it is in others, I already knew that ‘magic’ or at least a sufficiently advanced technology existed. In the end, the arena was littered with blood splatters, while the disappointed drill instructor did not even break a sweat. And before long, he had run out of volunteers to fight.

As he was apparently getting ready to call it a day, I stepped forward with heavy heart and shaking knees, shouting with a slightly cracking voice, “One moment please.”
“Oh, another victim, after all?” the drill instructor asked and focused on me as I walked in.
After sizing me up, he said, “I don’t think I’ve seen you before. Are you new?”
“Yes, I came in just about one or two months ago. But I’d rather not fight you.”
“Oho? Then why did you step forth?” he asks, apparently intrigued and I wondered if nobody ever approached him to ask for pointers or actual instructions.
“Well, for one to congratulate on your splendid performance. I hardly managed to see you move at all. Do you think you could teach us that technique?”
Obviously surprised by my more theoretical approach at the matter, he exclaimed, “Well, bloody finally one with more brain than brawn!” before adding more silently, “Seriously though, you look awfully scrawny to be in here. Try to put on some muscle, otherwise they’ll be preying on you sooner rather than later. Gotta look the part, y’know?”
“There are more ways to win a fight than brute strength, Sir,” I reminded him and I swear to God, he was just about ready to kiss me for proving that not all champions were mindless brutes. Only rather few of us actually were, but it was only the mindless ones who tried to prove themselves who had the guts to confront him. The others were too scared to even get near the arena while he was around, afraid to be next.
“Heh...it’s rare to see a new champion this old. What’d you do to get sent here?”
I pulled out the crystal from beneath my shirt and explain, “I only wish I knew.”
“Ah, another otherworldler, I see. So that old coot is still at it, huh?”
“Apparently so. Wait, another? You don’t mean…”
The drill instructor pulled out a similar crystal and flashed me a wry smile, “Doing my part for 10 years now. Either way, you didn’t come here to have a friendly chat, did you?”
“No, in fact…” I start and then explain to the drill instructor what I was trying to do.
“Build a school? Teach them to read, write and do calculus? Sorry to break it to you, but that’s not what they are looking for out there.”
“I know that it’s not what they want out there. But it is what these people here need. They need a prospect to life. And if they manage to become respectable citizens…”
“There no longer is any reason for the government to feed them, because they can feed themselves. The fish story, I get it. And it’s a good idea. But how are you going to get them to listen?”
“Actually, I prepared a presentation on the benefits of a solid education.”
“Ah yes, yes, a presentation. Should I get you a flipchart or an overhead projector?”
“Err...wait, you’re pulling my leg.”
“No, I’m saving your bacon. Look, ‘a presentation’ will not convince these people. You need to show them, how much better they could be if they follow you.”
“By beating them up like you do?”
The drill instructor shook his head and looked at the blood splatters sprayed around the place before saying, “No. After taking up this job, I tried as well, you know? But I never got through to them. So, these days, I just come to beat up whoever challenges me and hope that someone will ask me, how to do what I do. But they never do.”
“Because you’re scaring the living daylights out of them!”
“Well, better be feared than a victim! I am going home tonight! You are not!”
The last sentence stung with me, though not for the reason you might think. He said, that he was ‘going home’, this I remember clearly, but he clearly did not mean ‘the world we came from’. He had given up. On getting home. On teaching these people. He submitted himself to his fate. And I feared at that moment, that I would eventually become the same as him.

I cleared my throat and said, “Well then, how about a game then. People here do like games too, am I right?”
“Same as everywhere, pal. But what kind of game are you thinking about?”
I looked over to the gate, where the flag of the kingdom was fluttering in the wind and finally said, “How about a good old game of ‘capture the flag’?”
The drill instructor raised an eyebrow and then started smiling, “That might be fun to watch.”
“You’re not participating?”
“If I take part, nobody else will and you know it. At least not on the opposing team. But still, what do you think this will achieve?”
“CTF takes more than brute strength. Depending on how you play it, it is a battle of wits, which requires the use of tactics in order to ensure victory.”
“I like your spirit, dude. Fine, I’ll support you. Let’s tell the people then, shall we?”
I nod and face the people who had been watching us intently, trying to figure out what the heck was going on in their arena and why I had not gotten myself beaten down yet.

After assuring them that there would be no more ‘getting beaten up’ today, I explained my plans to them and issued a gutsy challenge.

We, the ‘blue team’, would steal the flag of the ‘red’ team and raise it on the flagpole of the arena. The catch was, that the ‘blue team’ would consist of 10 people of my choosing, whereas the ‘red team’ would consist of 100 people. I then proceeded to ask the drill instructor to get us a bunch of headbands in these colors, so we could mark who participates and is on which team. I also explained that, if one were to lose their headband, they’d be ‘dead’ and were no longer allowed to participate. On that note I also asked the drill instructor to organize a few referees to make sure of that.

In the end, the event was scheduled one week from that day and the drill instructor left with a broad smile on his face.
And while I was getting chewed out by my peers for being so reckless and proposing something this haphazard which we could only lose and that it would be a miracle if the entire project did not become the laughingstock of the compound, Martha suddenly stepped up to our little round. Everyone knew who she was, of course, but this was the first time she joined us, which caused a small shock to go through the group. Even more so, when she proclaimed, that she wanted to sign up for the blue team. With her support it was a lot easier convincing the others to join as well and before long we had our team down and began with our preparations in earnest. We scouted out the various locations and made plans over plans, looking for the best way to get the flag from the top of the gate, which would likely be heavily guarded to the arena.
“Usually in CTF, there are two flags, one for each team. The purpose is to capture the flag of ‘the other team’. This is different though, there is only one flag and we can expect for most of them to be smart enough to protect their flag instead of trying to go look for us. The first and most important step is getting their flag away from the stand, preferably without losses of our own. Once the flag is gone, the red team is forced to move. At that point we need to take down as many of them as we can before moving the flag to the target point,” I explained to my blue team.
“Why wait? Why not make a mad dash for it before they can get there?” Toby asked.
“Have you ever tried hoisting a flag? That takes a moment or three. Even if we did a relay race, we’d never make it in time before the others arrive at the arena themselves. And I imagine they would make short work of whoever of us is there. Besides, this is not about doing a hit and run, this is about proving a point. We must show them, that ‘brute strength’ and ‘numbers’ do not win battles, but tactics are. We have to show them that there is another way than ‘beating each other up’. And, to top it all off, we should try to incorporate the knowledge we are trying to teach the people. Show them, that ‘operating a mill’ is more than ‘pouring in grain and taking out flour’.”
And thus the discussion went back and forth, more plans were made, scrapped and reformed.

And then the day of the ‘Capture the flag’ tournament came.