Fire Fight

Even when you try to stick to the plan, things can still go wrong. It's a corollary to Murphy's Law.

"Incoming!" my second squad leader hollered. The explosion threw rocks and dirt into the air, with a deafening sound wave. Lucky. No one hit.

I swear, if I survive this battle, I'll make sure to teach that to the new recruits. Of course, I'll have to survive to be able to teach anyone anything.

As we came into the landing zone, the copter pilot shouted, "looks like the Intel was its usual puke job." The report had been "no resistance expected." Heavy small arms fire started as soon as we hit the LZ.

The plan was to divide the team into three squads; one to hold the center, while the other two attacked the flanks. Would have been a great plan, if it wasn't for the deep ravine with the roaring river at the bottom, on the left flank. And the right flank, don't even ask.

So here we were, a head on assault. Never a good idea, but at least we're making progress. Until...

The incoming was mortar fire. We might have to call in air support, the close in "low runners." Sometimes so close, they got some of us. I waved my radio operator over.

"HQ, HQ, team Bravo needs air support," I transmitted. "As close in as you can get it."

"Team Bravo, team Bravo, this is HQ," came from the bottom of the stairs. "Shut down and come down to eat your dinner."

"Oh Mom," I cried, "I can't desert my team!"

"If you want dessert tonight," was the reply, "get down here."

Well, priorities are priorities.