"I can't say that I blame him," the Skipper said.
"That's what most guys worry about," Doc commented. "They're more afraid of being blinded or disfigured than getting killed."
.
0700 HOURS
ALL the section commanders had reported to the Headquarters bunker for the Skipper's conference, and now sat around drinking MRE coffee, waiting for the meeting to begin. Brannigan was with Gomez, tending to the commo chores; the morning watch was on duty as things returned to normal; and MacTavish sat quietly smoking a cigarette by the bunker entrance with his face completely covered courtesy of Doc Bradley's skillful bandaging.
Brannigan walked up and took a seat with the section commanders. "Hell of a thing, wasn't it?"
Senior Chief Buford Dawkins took a loud slurp from his canteen cup. "I sure as the devil hope we ain't facing a dead heat here."
"Mmm," Ensign Orlando Taylor said with a nod. "I am not as experienced as you gentlemen, but it seems to me we could well be entering a frustrating battle of attrition. This operation is going to be won by the side that lasts longer."
"Before we start considering further consequences, I want to discuss last night's fight," Brannigan said. "Besides having a man killed and another wounded, there is something else that's bugging the hell out of me. We had three of our positions completely blown away. We're fortunate we don't have half a dozen casualties."
"Lucky hits," Chief Matt Gunnarson remarked.
"What the hell were them grenade launchers they was firing at us?" the senior chief wondered. "It would be like having a belt-fed Two-oh-three that kept shooting out projectiles as long as the trigger was held down."
"That's true," Jim Cruiser said. "I saw one place where four or five grenades in a row hit close together. From the size of the detonations I'd say they were forty millimeters like the Two-oh-three."
Orlando Taylor spoke up again. "During my training I was exposed to two such weapons. One model was from Singapore and the other Spanish. They fired belts as Senior Chief Dawkins just mentioned, and were automatic."
Brannigan nodded. "It sounds like something to report to Commander Berringer. He and the rest of intelligence staff can probably figure out what we're up against. Meanwhile, we have to rebuild those damaged positions."
"It was only those old places that were blown apart," Cruiser said. "The ones we built came through the fight in fine fettle."
"That's strange," Brannigan commented. "The ones the Pashtuns made were well built. And camouflaged too." He was thoughtful for a moment, then exclaimed, "Just a goddamn minute! Weren't we told that the Arabs on the other side spent some time here?"
"Yes, sir," Cruiser said. "And also an Iranian SF officer."
"Those bastards!" Brannigan said. "They must've pointed out the exact locations of those old defensive sites to their fire support. They knew exactly where they were. Their weapons support people were already zeroed in on them before the attack even started."
"Jesus!" Chief Gunnarson exclaimed. "We should've thought of that."
"It's those kinds of little lapses and slips that cost lives," Brannigan said. He glanced at Taylor. "Chalk that up to lessons learned, mister."
"Aye, sir!"
The session was interrupted by Bruno Puglisi hollering down the hole in the top of the bunker. "Chopper coming in!" A couple of moments passed, then he yelled again. "Commander Carey and Commander Berringer are on it!"
Brannigan chuckled without humor. "Well, when those two show up you can be sure that our adventures in these parts are about to be kicked up another notch. Who's the petty officer of the watch?"
"Sturgis," Cruiser replied. "He'll act as escort for our visitors."
Hospital Corpsman Doc Bradley stepped in from his bailiwick, walking over to where Doug MacTavish sat. He took the wounded man by the arm. "That's your ticket out of here. C'mon, I'll take you to the LZ."
Cruiser spoke up. "We've got his gear ready in the First Section's area, Doc. Stop by on the way and have one of the guys carry it out for you."
"Aye, sir," Bradley said. "The Odd Couple took Halonen topside earlier." He led MacTavish outside.
"There's a damn good corpsman," Chief Gunnarson remarked. "We'll be losing him pretty soon."
"Is he getting out of the Navy?" Taylor asked.
"No, sir," Gunnarson answered. "He's signed up for NCP. He already had his premed studies completed before he enlisted. He'll be finishing up his education to be a doctor, and plans on serving in the Navy MC as a trauma surgeon."
"The injured and wounded will really be in good hands then," Cruiser commented.
PO Monty Sturgis led Carey and Berringer into the cave. The two staff officers toted their briefcases, as they usually did. Carey motioned everyone to remain seated as he and Berringer joined the group. "I read the report on last night's battle. Short and nasty, hey? Too bad about the casualties."
"Yes, sir," Brannigan said.
"Well, another situation has arisen," Carey said. "And if you're looking for some payback time, this may be it. I'll let Commander Berringer explain it all to you."
"We've heard from Aladdin again," Berringer said, pulling several maps from his briefcase. "It was a brief transmission but had a lot of information. On fifteen June, a detachment of twenty Arab volunteers will be on its way to join your neighbors on the other side of the valley. And they'll be coming by foot." He began passing out the maps. "These have been prepared for you. You'll notice the only markings are ones that deal with their arrival."
Brannigan looked at the chart. "Aren't those reinforcements coming in by chopper?"
"Negative," Berringer replied. "They don't want you alerted, so these guys are taking a fifty-kilometer walk from their jumping-off point to this area." He gave his audience a meaningful glance. "That means they're highly trained, well equipped, and in damn good physical condition."
"I hope you're here to get us ready to form a reception party," Senior Chief Dawkins said.
"That's it exactly," Carey replied. "As you see by their route, they're coming in through rugged territory to avoid detection. We'll be able to have the Air Force fly you to a convenient LZ in that area to make contact. The flight won't attract any undue attention, since they drop off recon teams there from time to time. And it won't take you long to unass the aircraft, since all you have to do is run down the ramp to the ground."
"You are to interrupt their journey and render them ineffective," Berringer said. "And try grabbing us an EPW or two as well. When the job is done, the Air Force will pick you up at either the same LZ, or another if your prefer."
"When do we leave?" Brannigan asked.
"Immediately if not sooner," Carey replied. "You'll fly out with us. So gather the guys you want, and we'll take you back to Shelor Field, where you can ready yourselves and firm up any OPORD you care to make."
Brannigan paused a moment, then said, "Alright. I'll be in command of the mission. I'm gonna take the Sneaky Petes. That's six of us. Oh, yeah. And Puglisi and Miskoski. That'll make eight. Mmm." He pondered a bit more than said, "And Ensign Taylor."
"Thank you, sir!" Taylor happily exclaimed.
"It's a good chance to enhance your experience," Brannigan remarked. He looked at Cruiser. "You'll stay back here in command. Turn the First Section over to your senior petty officer."
"Aye, sir!"
Brannigan's attention was now directed to Senior Chief Petty Officer Buford Dawkins. "You heard my choices of personnel, Senior Chief. Round 'em up and get 'em in here." As the senior chief rushed off to tend to the chore, Brannigan turned back to Cruiser. "Rebuild the fighting positions that were knocked down last night, but don't put 'em back in the same spot or they'll get pulverized again."
"Aye, sir!"