0600 Hours – Operation Daybreak
The school parking lot is my Normandy. Today’s intel: roving classroom assignment. I’ll be moving period by period, theater to theater, island hopping across the Pacific. Art, Math, English, Science – each room its own battlefield. No home base. No reinforcements. Just me and a rolling cart of supplies against the Axis of Apathy.

0645 Hours – Tactical Assessment
Stockpiling supplies in the teacher’s lounge bunker. The veterans eye my preparations – dry erase markers, emergency worksheets, three different colors of pass slips. “Mobile warfare,” the history teacher mutters, dunking his third donut. “God help you, son. Their Anti-Teaching Defense systems are prepared for all that.”

0730 Hours – First Landing
Art class. Room 307. I parachute blind into occupied territory. Thirty fresh recruits armed with paintbrushes, energy drinks, and memes. The regular teacher’s sub plans mention something about color theory, but this feels more like Hitler youth making propaganda posters.

0825 Hours – Blitzkrieg
They hit us hard during transition. The bell sirens foretell the coming frenzy. My supply cart takes heavy fire in the hallway crossing. Three pencils lost, one dry erase marker captured. The math classroom lies ahead – a concrete pillbox of pre-algebra problems. I push forward, determined to make it through as the chaos engulfs the corridors like a smoke screen.

0835 Hours – The Counter-Attack
Math class launches Operation Graph Paper – Student resistance is fierce. Two have already deployed their favorite weapon: “I don’t get it.” I radio Command for reinforcements. Static is my only reply.

1045 Hours – Intelligence Failure
English class. My intelligence was wrong – they weren’t prepared for Romeo and Juliet. This is a massacre. Someone suggests using SparkNotes, I’m tempted, but orders are orders. We push through Act 1, taking heavy casualties in comprehension. The fog of war doth shroud our metered speech, like mists that choke the rhythm’s desperate reach.

1200 Hours – The Manhattan Project
Lunch duty. This is a massive experiment in social warfare. Trays, benches, tables all arrayed in a sterile, frozen parody awaiting the destruction of what is to come. There is silence as the clock ticks away it’s final seconds, and then the blinding explosion of students. I am become lunch, destroyer of cafenasiums.

1330 Hours – Operation Bunsen Burner
Science lab. The regular teacher, good man, left a full mission briefing. But the door was locked to the supply closet. I didn’t watch my buddies die face down in the muck so these students would miss out on making sugar crystals.

1400 Hours – The Resistance
Underground networks of note-passing have developed. I intercept a note – coordinates for a TikTok meetup in the bathroom. This goes deeper than we thought.

1445 Hours – D-Day
Final period. We’re all tired. The enemy knows it. Three students have established a beachhead by the pencil sharpener. I try to engage the enemy but I’m ambushed from behind by 2 students writing on the whiteboard. “Drop the expo on the ground, now!”

1515 Hours – VE-Day
The bell sounds like a victory siren, the children parade out in cheer and celebration. But I know better. There will be more battles tomorrow.

1530 Hours – After Action Report
To: Command
Re: Mobile Classroom Operations

Situation remains fluid. Enemy morale high despite heavy homework bombardment. Request immediate resupply of:
– Dry erase markers (The blue ones. Black markers are for civilians)
– Hall passes (They’re eating them. I don’t know why)
– Coffee (Industrial strength)
– Will to live (If available)

May God have mercy on our souls.

End Log.