“Sir! What do you mean, sir?” Fire Team Leader Alpha asked.
“First of all,” the General said as he slapped the dirt bike with his riding crop. “This is not an ATV, son! You were specifically instructed to requisition four ATVs!”
“Sorry, general,” he responded sheepishly. “We sold the other one yesterday. All I could get as a replacement was the dirt bike.”
“No other options?”
“Not that my boss would approve. But don’t worry, that bike has the biggest engine we sell. It’s a heck of a lot faster than the ATVs.”
“Well, it’ll have to do,” the General said dejectedly. “Now, what about these paint schemes? They’re damn near fluorescent! Hardly suitable for covert operations. What happened to the desert camouflage I requested?”
“Well, my boss said that since we were renting and not buying, we couldn’t special order.”
“Nonsense! Private Zulu, find some black shoe polish and at least break up the outline of these vehicles in a similar fashion to the motor bike. That one’s at least marginally passable for concealment.”
“Yes sir!” Private Zulu shouted as he turned and ran back into the building, promptly tripping and falling directly on his face. General X-Ray shook his head in frustration as the private regained his feet and sprinted into the headquarters, leaving the door open behind him in his haste.
“Close the door behind you, private!” the General shouted. “You’ll let out all my refrigerated air!”
“Yes, sir,” the private replied, sticking his head out of the doorway before slamming it shut behind him.
“That boy is so dumb he couldn’t play dead in a cowboy movie,” the General said, rubbing his forehead. “Listen up, men,” he commanded. “Fire Team Leader Alpha will now illustrate the all-important features of these vehicles.”
“Turn on here,” the Fire Team Leader began, pointing to a switch on one of the ATVs. “And turn off here. Twist the throttle here for speed and pull the brake lever to stop. Remember, lean into your turns, and keep your attention focused down the trail, not right in front of you. Oh, and the headlights are right here.”
“No headlights!” the General barked. “Do you even understand what a covert night operation is?”
“Sir, the terrain out there is pretty tricky in the day, much less in the dark.”
“I don’t care if it’s dark as the belly of a whale, Fire Team Leader. No headlights. Do you men get me?”
“We get you, sir,” the men replied in unenthusiastic unison.
“Okay, Fire Teams. Mount your vehicles and follow Fire Team Leader Alpha’s ATV across that there gully, around that large boulder way over there,” the General said, pointing to a large rock approximately two hundred yards away and barely visible in the dusky twilight. “Then return your vehicles here. You have one hundred and twenty seconds. Privates in front and Fire Team Leaders ride shotgun.”
“Sir,” said Fire Team Leader Alpha. “Shouldn’t I at least drive one of the ATVs? I’ve got the most experience.”
“Nonsense!” the General responded. “Senior Officers need to have unencumbered vision of the battlefield in order to deliver precise tactical orders to their Fire Teams.”
“Okay, sir, but I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“Never question my orders in front of the men, Fire Team Leader!”
“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”
“Wait for me!” cried Private Zulu as he raced back to the gathered men, holding a container of shoe polish with a foam applicator. “Sir, should I stripe these battle rides up now, sir?”
“No,” the General replied. “Join your Fire Team Leader for the exercise. You can camouflage the vehicles when we’ve completed training.”
Private Zulu mounted his ATV and grabbed onto the handlebars while Fire Team Leader Charlie grasped him firmly around the waist.
“T-minus three…” The General began counting down, pointing his riding crop directly up into the air with one hand while looking intently at the stopwatch in his other, “two…one…ignition!”
Two of the ATVs roared to life and noisily sped off toward the gully, while Private Zulu searched in vain for his kick-start pedal, repeatedly jacking his foot up and down, trying to find purchase on a pedal that wasn’t there.
“What in the Sam Hill are you doing, private?” the General inquired.
“Trying to fire it up, sir?”
“Fire Team Leader. Point out the ignition switch to the private. The clock is running.”
“It’s right there, private,” Fire Team Leader Charlie said as he leaned forward to point out the starter.
“Gotcha,” the private said as the ATV roared to life. “Geronimo!” He screamed as he hammered back the throttle, dumping Fire Team Leader Charlie, who hadn’t fully regained his seat, directly off the back of the ATV. Private Zulu tore off after the other two vehicles that were rapidly approaching the gully, oblivious to his fallen comrade.
“Dammit!” the General swore. “Never leave a man behind!” Fire Team Leader Charlie dusted himself off and chased after Private Zulu. “Morons!” the General said in disgust as he checked his stopwatch.
Fire Team Alpha and Bravo’s ATVs jockeyed for position as they noisily bounced over the rough terrain, swiftly approaching the rugged six-foot-deep gully with sloped walls. They reached the lip of the gully neck and neck as both teams flew down the embankment. Upon reaching the bottom of the gully, both privates poured on the gas and launched their machines up the far side. Like a pair of synchronized swimmers, they both shot off the top lip of the gully and directly up into the air with the noses of their ATVs pointing straight at the sky. Simultaneously, the pull of gravity slowed their vehicles’ ascent. With balloon-like quad tires spinning and engines still revved to the max, both teetered over backward and crashed back to the bottom of the gully, spilling the men in all directions and kicking up an enormous cloud of dust.
“I think I broke my giblets,” Private Tango cried as he climbed to his feet, holding his throat with both hands.
“Damage assessment, Private Foxtrot,” said Fire Team Leader Alpha as he dusted himself off and examined the upside-down ATVs his soon-to-be former employer had rented them.
“I’m okay,” the private replied. “Just got some dirt in my teeth and skinned my knees up a fair bit.”
“Jesus Christ!” exclaimed Fire Team Leader Bravo. “I think we pulled a half gainer.”
“No,” moaned Private Tango, now clutching his stomach with both hands. “I think I pulled my whole gainer.”
“What the hell happened?” asked Private Zulu as he pulled his ATV up to the lip of the gully. “You guys doing some kind of moon shot?”
“Where’s your Team Leader, private?” Fire Team Leader Alpha inquired.
“My who?” Private Zulu turned to look behind him. “Hey, where’d he go?”
It took the men a good ten minutes to get the ATVs righted and safely up the far side of the gully. In the meantime, an out-of-breath Fire Team Leader Charlie had rejoined the group.
“Okay, boys,” said Fire Team Leader Alpha. “I’m driving now. Stay close and follow me. You can’t hardly see your hand in front of your face it’s so damn dark.”
Another fifteen minutes later, the men had rounded the boulder and dejectedly returned bruised, battered, and dusty to the motor pool. Parking their ATVs, the men literally fell off their machines. The General was sitting in a folding chair with his legs crossed and still holding his stopwatch as he shook his head in disappointment. Surveying his motley and defeated brigade, the General clicked off his stopwatch, clinched his eyes shut, and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand.
“I don’t even want to know,” he muttered.