“Viper Five, Six here,” I said into the radio.
“Go ahead, Six,” My ATL responded.
“What’s the situation there?” I asked.
“Tangos are moving to the tree lines and infiltrating north. It looks like they’ll link up with the north line soon,” he responded.
“Any place still clear? I’m on my way out,” I asked.
“It looks like the Northeast corner is still clear if you hurry,” he answered.
“Okay. I’m leaving my radio here and on my way. Don’t fire and meet me twenty-five meters inside the tree line,” I told him.
“Copy that. Viper Five, out.”
I took off my radio and handed it over.
“See you on the other side,” I said.
“Cover Fire!” Sergeant Connell shouted.
The intensity from our side picked up considerably and the return firepower diminished to a degree. I rose and started running in a crouch towards the Northeast. I just as suddenly stopped with my boots almost skidding across the torn up field. Returning, I plopped back down next to a rather startled Sergeant Connell.
“Mr. Walker, or whatever you are, the woods are that way I believe,” she said pointing in the direction I was headed.
“Yeah, I came back to ask for your number and see if I could treat you to dinner sometime,” I said even surprising myself.
“You’re kidding, right?!” She responded with an incredulous look on her face.
“No, I’m quite serious,” I replied.
“If I give you my number, will you then get the fuck out of here?”
“Yep.”
She gave me her number right then and there. I reached down, pulled my knife from its sheath attached to my lower leg, and scratched her number into the crane stock of my M-4.
“And your name? I mean besides Sergeant Connell,” I asked hesitating with the point of my blade against the molded plastic.
“Lynn. Now get the fuck out of here,” she said shaking her head.
The sound of the firing was intense. Yells from the soldiers nearby added to the field filled with sound. Green and red tracers streaked across the battlefield. I began my run once again. Bullets impacted the ground at my feet and I heard the occasional zip as others passed close by my head. I concentrated on only the run and the trees to my front. It seemed like there was no way my body could fit in the open field without coming into contact with the steel filling the air but I made it and plunged deeper into the dense undergrowth of the jungle to be greeted by a boonie hat rising above a large patch of fronds.
We made our way around to a position behind enemy soldiers inside the tree line to the north. We found one end of the line and, with ourselves on line, began to systematically roll them up from behind. Our suppressors weren’t heard and they had no idea we were there. We stayed back in the jungle until we cleared most of the north line. It wouldn’t be long before they realized that the north end wasn’t firing so we didn’t have the luxury of time to roll them up entirely.
“Atlas 21, Viper, over,” I said taking our spare radio.
“Viper, Atlas 21, go ahead,” Lynn responded. The firing through my earpiece when she had her mic open was loud in the background. It mixed with the firing we were hearing but slightly out of sequence.
“The way is clear. Move your folks. We’ll cover the flanks and fold up behind you. Head north to the LZ,” I said.
“We’re on the way. Atlas 21, out,” she replied.
They made their way across the field and through our flanking line. We folded up behind the fast moving soldiers. Enemy soldiers ran across the field in pursuit and we heard others crashing through the jungle to either side. Setting short-timed fuses in claymores, we put these to the side and rear to slow any advance and make them think twice about running after us. We then took off on the tail of Atlas 21. Bullets smacked into the trees around us as fire continued to be directed our way. Five loud, ground shaking explosions filled the air behind us. The rounds that followed us tailed off. We planted our remaining claymores, with both timed fuses and trip wires, in our path and off to the side of it as we made our way north.
Several explosions later, all fire in our direction ceased. I notified Eagle that we were inbound to the LZ. Lynn radioed that they had made it to the LZ. We were ten minutes behind with our pickup fifteen minutes out. In short order, we were all picked up and airborne. The adrenaline and exhaustion of the day swept over me. At that time, a cold beer sounded like the best thing in the world. I looked down at the number and name etched into the stock of my M-4 and smiled. Looking out of the open door to my right, I saw another Black Hawk in formation. In the open doorway sat Lynn, her helmet off and her short blond hair hanging limply. She was staring at the steel floor and looked up. I gave her a head nod which she returned and smiled.
The slamming of a hatch on one of the Humvees is startling. “Yeah, good times,” I say as we both snap out of our remembering at the same moment.
“It was certainly interesting,” she replies.
Whispers of the Mind
The sound of hatches being closed echoes across the silent lot signaling it’s time to go.
“I love you, Lynn,” I say leaning over to give her a kiss.
“I love you too, Jack,” she says.
With a final squeeze of her hand, we separate and I make my way to the Humvees and awaiting teams.
“Make sure to keep intervals and the guns manned,” I say with the chill of the morning seeping through my fatigues.
The others give tired nods and we pile into the waiting vehicles. A gust of wind gives my pant legs a final shake before I climb into the passenger seat. The closing of the doors and engines starting ends the tranquil feel of the morning. Through a gap in the overhead clouds, the sun gives its first peek above the range of mountains turning the blue of the pre-dawn into a dull orange glow. With a final look to Lynn standing in the shadows of the building, we start off. I give a wave to which she replies in kind and watch her get smaller in the side view mirror until she disappears as we pass over the rise of the entrance road.
A tear trickles down her cheek as she watches the vehicles motor up the entrance and vanish behind the hill. This wasn’t the homecoming she envisioned at all. Lynn had pictured coming home to Jack and settling into a routine of them and that of a stateside base. Instead, we have this, she thinks looking around the parking lot bathed in morning light. Silence once again returns. Her thoughts go back momentarily to their meeting bringing a small smile to her worried face. He has skills in the field but he can be such a dork sometimes, she thinks lovingly. I just wish he didn’t think he had to do everything himself or push himself. Or think he is the one making a mistake when things go wrong.
“He’s pushing himself too hard. He plays at not being tired but I know he’s about to fall down from exhaustion and worry,” Lynn says to herself looking to where the vehicles disappeared moments ago. The rustle of the remaining teams, emerging from the interior behind, brings her back to the here and now. With a final “Stay safe, Jack,” she turns.
“Form up,” she yells wiping away any sign of tears.
The drive north is a quick and uneventful one. We pull onto the base and bypass the guard shacks. I think back to when we entered here for the first time seemingly an aeon ago. My stomach flips for a moment thinking back to the discovery there. The pant legs of the guard still project outward from one of the shacks. The terror and fear that must have filled those final moments; trying to fend off the horde with ammo running low and the knowledge that it wasn’t going to be enough. Fighting in the dark, surrounded by shrieks, and perhaps not knowing what was happening, only that someone or something was attacking and your time was limited. Watching your comrades fall as they ran out of ammo. The finality of being surrounded when your own ammo was depleted and being pulled to the ground. Those final moments must have a lingering effect on this place to pull those images into my mind. Yeah, that must have really sucked, I think as we proceed past.