Ruby the Mortar Catcher

Ruby the Mortar Catcher

So there I was (Because that’s how every good war story starts out) standing on the roof of some Iraqi’s house, well it used to be his… we killed him and commandeered it for the war effort. I think I was on the satellite phone with a good friend from back home. It had to be at least 130 degrees outside with clear visibility for miles. On the roof of this house there are three crew-served weapon positions one M2 .50, one MK-19, and one 240B facing N, S x SW, and S x SE respectively. I had just gotten off of a good 12hr shift on the Ma Deuce (How every soldier lovingly refers to the M2 .50) so I was tired but it had been awhile since I had talked to someone from home. I would make myself last the extra 30mikes to talk to an old friend.

I was facing one of those beautiful Iraqi sunsets that no one really talked about because it would probably be some kind of sin to admit that anything in that shithole could actually be beautiful. It had been a good day, minimal activity, so I had my head on a swivel. If one of the Joes ever said “It has been a good day.” It was without fail followed up by “…so far.” we were going to get hit, just a matter of when and where.
Standing where I was I could see quite a bit of the local features. Directly under me, 1 story below was a junk pile, lots of scrap metal, cinder blocks and such. Left of the junk pile we have the “Piss Hole” and this needs some explaining if you have never been near an infantry company out in the suck. Basically you dig a big ass hole in the ground, fill it with gravel, as you fill it put a few pieces of PVC pipe in it and hold them at just such an angle to make an intersect with a normal sized mans urinary equipment. Now this particular facility had been placed right around the corner from the junk pile so that most of either one would be visible from any spot at either the junk pile or the piss hole… most any spot. The pipe closest to the wall of the house offered a little wind shelter and some shelter from a few vantage points. This is the spot Ruby chose to relieve himself. Whether it was for shelter from the wind or a wall to lean on, it turned out to be a lifesaving decision.

I had been on the phone for about 10mikes before it happened, and it happened fast, the kind of fast that is bastardized by mere explanation. I had been talking to my best friend about God knows what, but it was defiantly nothing important when a mortar came screaming out of the sky directly in front of me. If I had a baseball bat and a 10 second warning, it would have been possible to hit the damn thing from where I was standing. It was just a black streak, a diving demon hawk but I saw it. It dove into the pile of debris directly below me. The concussion from the explosion lifted me off my feet and set me back about two paces, took my breath right away from me, and set my ears to ringing like a bell tower. Then I heard it. The most awkward, unexpected response to being hit by a mortar one could expect to hear “Are you fucking serious?!” followed by a “What the fuck?!” and a “Mother Fucker!”all interwoven by an insane sort of laughter. I scrambled to the edge of the roof just in time to see Ruby finish pissing on himself. He was in the process of checking himself for holes he was not born with while laughing nigh hysterically. I had been worried until he gave me a thumbs up. A good sign for “I am ok brother.”That’s when the laughter became contagious. I could not stop any easier than Ruby could. I mean, he pissed all over himself and that’s just funny wherever you come from.

The serious thing to think of is the “what if?” in that situation. What if Ruby had chosen a pisser further away from the wall, what if the mortar landed less than a foot closer to me, that what if is a big one.