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Crump, crump, crump.

The explosions sounded small in comparison to the mortars and artillery fire being rained down, but they were doing the job of killing or wounding the enemy, who was steadily bearing down on them.

“Shift fire to our right, Sir!” shouted Corporal Perez.

A fresh wave of enemy soldiers had surged toward their position. At some point in the battle, his right flank had fallen apart as the Marines were simply overrun by the sheer numbers being thrown at them. Captain Long saw the wave of humanity, shouting and screaming at the top of their lungs with bayonets attached to the ends of their rifles… charging right for them. Leveling the M240G at the charging horde, he pulled the trigger, letting a string of machine-gun fire rip through their lines. He moved his aim back and forth across the enemy, and watched as many of them clutched at their chest, arms, and legs, falling to the ground before they were trampled upon by the following soldiers.

Turning his head slightly to Corporal Perez, he shouted, “Fall back!”

Perez, for his part, threw several grenades at the enemy and then bounded back five or so meters before turning around to lay down suppressive fire so Long could move. Sensing that this was his moment, Long stopped firing as he ran in a low crouch past Perez to another tree, where he once again opened fire on their attackers, all the while shouting for the others to fall back as well.

It took a few minutes, but more and more of his Marines heard his call to fall back and collapsed back on a rally point they had identified the day before. The enemy reached their previous positions and halted their advance for the moment, committing a fatal error in their attack by giving the Marines a moment of reprieve. Within seconds, a lot of the gunfire happening around them slackened as more of the Marines disengaged and the PLA stopped pressing their attack.

When they reached the rally point, Captain Long called back to battalion to let them know what had just happened. While he was on the radio, more of his Marines continued to filter into their positions, some carrying wounded comrades, others wounded themselves but still able to fight.

“Get a perimeter set up now!” Long shouted.

Captain Long took a moment to talk with higher headquarters, requesting a quick reaction force be sent to their position.

“Where’s the first sergeant?” asked one of the other sergeants as he took the M240G back from him.

Pausing for a second, the captain looked solemnly at the sergeant. “He’s dead,” he answered. Then, without giving him too much time to process that statement, he asked, “Where’s Lieutenant Simmons? I need to speak with him.”

“I’m coming, Sir,” shouted his executive officer. He was helping to lay a wounded Marine down near the center of their position. The company’s corpsman was busy trying to stabilize and treat the numerous wounded men being brought in.

Once his XO made it over to his position, Captain Long asked, “How many men have we lost? Did all the platoons fall back to our rally point?” While he spoke, he was performing a quick head count of the wounded.

“I don’t know what happened to Second Platoon. They were on the right flank. Last I saw, several artillery rounds landed in their positions and then the PLA had swarmed all over them. I was with Third Platoon. I’ve got them situated over there,” Lieutenant Simmons explained as he pointed to an area roughly twenty meters away.

Lieutenant Scott walked up to them. “I’ve got Fourth Platoon situated on our right flank, ready to repel any further attacks,” he said. “I have to admit, Captain, I thought you were a dead man. The Chinese hardly hit our platoon, so I brought a squad over to your position. When I saw you charge forward and grab that machine gun like that I figured you’d last maybe a minute. My guys did their best to cover your retreat — I’m glad you made it.”

“The Chinese didn’t hit your platoon’s section of the line at all?” asked Long.

“No, Sir,” Lieutenant Scott answered. “The attack appeared to be concentrated on Second and First Platoon positions. Like I said, my platoon was hardly hit. We only sustained one wounded. My guys are ginned up and ready for some payback. Do you want me to head back to where Second Platoon was and see if we can find any survivors?” he asked.

Captain Long thought about that for a moment before responding. Major Noble had told him that he was sending two platoons from Delta Company to help him. Part of him knew that he should probably wait and make sure they held their current position, but Long also didn’t want to leave a platoon of his men alone. He could still hear the ratatat of several machine guns, M4s and AK-47s, in the distance.

“Lieutenant Simmons, how many able-bodied men do we have ready to fight right now?” Captain Long asked.

Simmons had just finished conferring with a few sergeants and a couple of other gunnery sergeants, scribbling something on his notepad. He looked up. “We’ve got a lot of wounded and missing-in-action guys from Second and Third Platoon right now. We have maybe two full squads from First Platoon and three full squads from Third Platoon that are able to fight. Of the five squads, probably only three of them could assist Fourth Platoon.”

Letting out a sigh, Captain Long turned to look at Lieutenant Scott. “Take your platoon along with a squad from Third Platoon with you,” he ordered. “I’ve got to keep the others here to protect the rally point until our reinforcements from Delta arrive. When they get here, I’ll send them your way.”

With that settled, Lieutenant Scott called out to two of the gunnery sergeants, “Grab your men and head with me! We’re going to go find and fetch Second Platoon.”

* * *

When Lieutenant Scott’s platoon got close to where Second Platoon should have been, they saw something even worse than what he’d expected. Not only was the area littered with the torn and mangled bodies of their fellow Marines, but there had to be close to three companies’ worth of enemy soldiers filtering into the area, getting ready to move toward them.

Scott’s platoon sergeant whispered to him. “Sir, it doesn’t look like anyone survived. We should report what we’re seeing and head back to the rally point. That force is too large for us to take on, and the company will be hard-pressed to beat back that large of an attack without us.”

Lieutenant Scott knew that was the right decision, and he did have to consider the well-being of his own men, but seeing his fellow Marines lying there, dead, alone, and surrounded by the enemy like that, really burned him up. He shook his head and let out a sigh.

“Relay the message back to the CO and tell him we’re heading back.” With that settled, the platoon silently crept back to the rally point, readying themselves mentally for what they knew would be another withering attack when it came.

* * *

“Sir, you really need to let me look at that wound,” said one of the corpsmen as he tried for the tenth time to look at Captain Long’s shoulder and arm. The right side of his blouse had a lot of blood on it, and his Marines were starting to get concerned that he might pass out from loss of blood.

“Fine, just be quick about it,” Long consented.

While the corpsman went to work on his arm, he used his other hand to signal for First Lieutenant Simmons to come over and speak with him. “Simmons, what’s going on with Fourth Platoon?” he asked. “Did Lieutenant Scott find our guys?”

Simmons just shook his head. “They found them, but it appears they were all dead, or the enemy had moved the wounded and others captured back to their rear area. He also reported seeing what looked to be maybe two or three companies of enemy soldiers forming up for another attack.”