Tales from the front

[dekela]

heck why not, the other games have them so here goes. this is my recollection of vipers border crossing mission.

“You have to peel it ya pork chop”. With that the three of us cracked up. Dug was always good for a laugh, bloody good value. It was cold enough to mix mist with words, early morning in the ###### hole from hell. Talk was easy, mostly about the folk we left at home. “Hey my boy is one today”. “Good one mate”. “Yeah, tuff as nails that little nipper”.

Everything was plain………….well normal………in a strange sense of the word. Dug was cracking us up with his endless repertoire of one liners, and gord was acting the goat. Jeez it was good. Like the countess times on the beach, but this was different.

We all heard the call on the HF set, “Cat is go, repeat, Cat is go”. It was the call we all had waited for……….but had silently hoped didn’t come. With it, Dug, who was the vet amongst us, chuckled and said “Saddle up boys, funs a foot”.

He had been in a while, seen Somalia, East Timor. Some reckoned he had been in Vietnam. One tough son of a ######. He was the scout, the only place he felt safe. Christ, what is this bloke. Gord, he was our patrol leader. He was as still as a carved statue, and totally unnerving. This was his first lead role after the ADFA, but no one would be able to tell. He had been overseas, but hadn’t come into contact yet. Big fella, we used to call him the “boss”, a name that seemed to fit his bear like stature. And then there was me. I was the newbie, even though I had been in for 4 years. All excited with butterflies and all that crap, waiting for a chance to show the guys back home, and here, what I could do. My place today was tail end Charlie. “Typical, I always come last” was my response when told.

We moved into our routine, smokes out, cuppa emptied, and unneeded gear stashed in the vehicles. No one spoke, no need. We all knew what to do, ######, we had only rehearsed it a million times already. Once we were ready, we mounted up, final weapon check, and off we went for the 20 minute drive across the border. The objectives where simple enough in the brief, but out here things were the opposite. Nothing is totally prepared for, and this was no exception. The ride in the back of the LRPV was all business, you could “feel” what the others where thinking and feeling. Damn, you had only been out on op’s together heaps of times, like a family outing. But your family don’t normally try and shoot you, or at least not in my suburb. Everyone was intent on getting this ###### over with and getting back, preferably in one piece. We all knew the others thoughts………..but not a word was uttered.

After the 20 minute ride, all we had seen was a lone herder and his camels, “What the hell have I got myself into” I thought out loud. Dug laughed, Gord just looked as if to say shut the ###### up newbie. The vehicles stopped, and Gord signalled for us to dismount, we were to leg it from here. We had been given the last known position of our first objective, a shilka in the desert. Christ, it would be like finding a needle in a hay stack. Dug moved of on point, slowly, meticulously. Gord followed up about 20 meters behind, observing our surroundings for any sign of enemy. I came up the rear some 10 meters or so from Gord, watching for any approach from our backs. We had only moved a few minutes when Dug propped, and signalled contacts. Gord moved up to asses the situation, while I lay up to provide cover fire if needed.

Gord motioned for me to move up and join himself and Dug, which I did at a low crawl almost. There they were, a patrol of 4 guys, and they where heading our way. No choice but to contact them, so Gord set about designating targets. I had the guy on our far left, who appeared to be the patrol leader. I had never shot any one before, but as I settled ret on centre of mass, I recalled what the old staff had said to me a few years before, “It’s not about the target, it’s about the shot”. It seemed like an eternity before Gord initiated our ambush, but when he did it was over in a split second. I fired two rounds, both hit home and my target slumped to the ground, no movement. The other three had gone the same path, Gord and Dug had obviously not missed either.

We moved up to check the bodies for Intel, not a pleasant job, but a necessary one if we were to find our shilka. I looked at the four on the ground, no remorse, no feeling much at all, just thought “###### never knew what hit them”. As it turned out we were in luck, these guys had been patrolling a perimeter for our chosen target, not more than a couple of hundred meters away. We regrouped, and proceeded to advance in an extended line, slowly, but surely, moving ever closer. Another two targets were found, taking refuge in some low undergrowth. Gord and Dug moved to contact them, when I saw a third. He was a bit further out than the others, but he was there, and he was waiting for us. Three shots rang out before I had fired, another three from me. The guy I had been scoping had stopped moving now, so I knew I had killed him. We were on the move again, no time to waste. The sun would be up shortly, and we would lose the advantage our NVG’s provided us.

There she was, our shilka in the desert, unmanned, but still an evil looking killing machine. We moved to the left flank to get Dug a better line of sight, and damn near stumbled into an enemy camp. Talk about scare the crap out of you, not 50 meters away, about 8 guys standing round a fire, laughing and joking. It was decided that we should take out the camp, didn’t want them to mount the shilka. That would have been a disaster. On Gords call, we opened up on them with a torrent of bullets. I pumped in one round from my 203, but fell short. “Another 20 on that Dek’s” said Gord, so I reloaded and put out another one. Smack bang into the middle of the fire, bodies went flying in all directions, then a ghostly silence. All that was left now was to take care of the shilka, which Dug managed with the help of his Javelin. Man those things are powerful, tore it to pieces like a pit bull on a rag doll.

After a brief search of the camp and bodies, it was time to mount the vehicles again and find where the enemy were hiding. After about 10 minutes drive, two targets approached our 12 o’clock. Talk about gutsy, or stupid, they rode in straight for us. That was until Larry, our 50 gunner, and Dave, the mag gunner on the LRPV behind us lit up the night with tracers. The two on the bikes must have bogged themselves, ‘cause they took of like rockets dodging and jumping all over the place. The whole time tracers where hitting all around them, jeez it was a funny sight. We all knew our position was now blown, we no longer held the upper hand. The two vehicles stopped some 500 or so meters out from the small fortified town, in a small valley out of the enemy sight. The three of us jumped out and headed off toward town, Gord and I flanking left, while Dug went right. We managed to clean up the two bike riders, and a two man patrol enroute to the last objective. They were well set in, two 50 cal MG’s on the gate, and a mortar team further inside.

It wasn’t long before we heard the sound of a BMP approaching our position, real great considering we had no Jav’s left. Then there was an almighty boom, and a heck of a flash. Quickly followed by another, I hadn’t seen Gord pick up the RPG, but I was sure glad he did. By the time I got my head out of the sand, all that was left of the BMP was a burning hull. “Bloody glad my ass wasn’t in there” I thought to myself, be rather crispy now. We could hear Dug getting stuck into the bad guys over to the right of the town, so Gord and I moved along the left side, taking targets out as they presented themselves. We were moving in closer when an AK opened up out of nowhere, ######, I thought we had tagged them all. I bolted for cover behind a crumbled wall, ducking down just as three shots hit on the other side. I poked my head around, and found one guy lying near the first gate, must have been playing dead originally, but after a few quick shots, he wasn’t playing any more.

We moved to the rear gate, which had another bunker and emplaced 50. Gord called up Dug and got his position, and told him to hold out till we took the 50 gunner out of the game. We began moving along the wall of the bunker, keeping out of the firing arc, with the intent of lobbing a nade in through the gun slot. That should take care of that little problem, then there was a short burst from the 50 above us, and we both heard the muffled groan off to our left. Dug had been hit, and wasn’t responding on comms............he was dead. Strange, we had just lost a great mate, almost a family member, but we pushed on the same. No time for tears and anger, hell, they would be plenty of time for that when we were RTB, or in the mess with a few coldies. Then I watched Gord do the darnedest thing, he step off the wall straight in front of the gunner and fired one shot. Straight between his eyes, “I got him for you Duggy” I heard over comms, hardly seemed like justice though.

We moved through the gate to mop up the remaining enemy so we could call in the casevac chopper, we wouldn’t leave Dug out there alone. There was a short burst from an AK off to the right, then three shots from Gords M4, “clear over here”. Two more tango’s and the town was our’s, only a few minutes longer and Dug could have been here with us, but that wasn’t to be. We called into the TF and advised that the objectives had been completed, and gave Dug’s status as KIA. We then moved in silence to where Duggy lay, knelt down, and shed those tears, for now there was time.

cheers......

[Sart]

Good stuff! We've been chatting about a war stories section now and then on TS. Don't know if it'll happen, but I'll pin this for sure.

[Dugite]

Damn it Dek.

That just cost me a keyboard and 2 packets of tissues.

[warhawk]

Support Freya

Mission by DeanJP1

Standing there that morning in the compound we knew the day’s mission was going to be difficult. Looking around you could see in the eyes of the rookies a bit of hesitation. They would be looking to the veteran’s like Dekela, who was on loan to us, to help them through.

The enemy had launched a surprised attack and friendly casualties had been high. Most of our armour had been knocked out already as no one expected the enemies tank hunters to be so effective. Intel was sketchy at best but communications had been cut off from the entire northwest of the island. As I looked around I could see people like Warbird finishing loading her last .50 mags for her AW-50. Her and Lilgun were discussing something but neither laughed nor did they give off the air of worry. Both would do well that day but neither knew it at this point.

Final word had come in and I issued the order to mount up. The operation had only two objectives today but we would be lucky to complete one of them. First on our list was to hurry to the town of Asguard. There we would fortify positions in anticipation of another enemy offensive aimed at cutting us off from the rest of the island. We were told to expect heavy infantry forces with the possibility of light tank support and enemy air cover wasn’t completely out of the question but that seemed remote.

I took up my position in the lead Abrams taking Will, whose brother Gordo was off in the desert somewhere hunting a shilka, jumped in as my gunner. In the second Abrams we put Shotgun in with his SPR along with Dekela. Bird and Lilgun grabbed their Humvee while CK was relegated with bringing up the other one with the TOW launcher. With everyone mounted up we headed out at high speed to Asguard.

On our way there we received comforting news that Dean and Geriec would be providing air cover for us with their Cobra gunships. All seemed good at this point. We were as prepared as we could be.

Once we entered Asguard we parked out tanks in positions that offered them the best cover and yet placed in such a way so that anyone could jump the turret, if necessary, to lend support. We decided to hold our Cobra’s back until we had assessed the enemies anti-air capability and neutralised it. Once we had our vehicles in place and pre-staged we quickly moved out and formed a scrimmage line on the first little crest north of town facing to the northwest of Asguard. This was the direction that intel said the enemy was expected to come from. It would be one of the few things those intel weenies would actually get right that day.

With Shotgun out on our far left flank with his SPR and bird on our right flank with Lilgun and her F-89, the guys swore that LG slept with that thing, I put CK out on our far right as a check value of sorts in case the enemy tried to flank us there. Will, Dekela and myself got in position between the snipers and waited.

It seemed like it took forever but on retrospect it was probably only 5 minutes before they showed up. First was a two man recon team. I told everyone “hold your fire let them come in closer”. Watching through my bino’s I saw one of enemy take out his. He was looking RIGHT AT ME! Now wasn’t the time to panic I said to mayself. The sun was in my face and as along as I didn’t move he wouldn’t catch any hint of my presence with the way I had situated myself.

This little squad kept moving up and that’s when it happened. The officer who had his bino’s out saw one of the cobra’s. “Shotgun take them out.” 2 shots rang out and the officer was down. Two more shots rang out and the other scout fell. 60 seconds went by. 120 seconds…. “Three contacts moving in from the northwest approaching slowly” reported Shotgun. Just as I acquired the targets the calls went out. “One just shouldered a RPG!”

Shotgun was again called into action. This time though they had an idea on his location. “Weapons FREE!” I remember calling out. With that the thunderous rage of Lilgun’s F89 rang out followed quickly by several M4’s. Four contacts appeared slightly to the right of that three man team. Fire was shifted and even as we did so more contacts started pouring over the hill.

“Here they come boys” cried out Will. Tracers were arching back and forth as we traded shots with the AI. Some of our boot’s went down hard as we expected. I don’t remember what spurred me into action but it seemed as though I started moving to Shotgun at the exact moment he called out that he was taking fire. I took no more than two steps when he called out “I’m hit, I’m down”. I reassured him I was on my way and requested covering fire which I got.

I moved over to Shotgun and he was hit bad. I administered first aid to get him back into the fight and returned to my original position. That’s when they showed up. “Four T-72’s inbound from the northwest coming hard and fast.”

The air filled with rockets as Geriec and Dean opened up with hellfires from above the town. Four tanks were quickly turned to scrap piles. Warbird started calling out contacts moving from our west to east. They were trying to flank us on the right just like I though they would. What I wasn’t expecting was this heavy of an assault. CK was grossly out numbered. I had Dean reposition himself to support CK and he had Geriec take up a position on the west of town.

We still had troops pouring over the hill when the T-55’s showed up. It was quickly becoming apparent that intel had been wrong about the armour strength. I let a Javelin loose hitting the first T-55 while Geriec downed the second one. As Geriec tried to maintain a low altitude his rotors must have hit something because next thing we know he went down. “Did anyone see a rocket?” After several no replies we put it behind us.

Things were happeningly quickly now. This was turning into a full mechanized assault and we were losing assets. Warbird quickly called out contacts moving down the main north/south road coming in to Asguard from the north. “I’ve got a recoilless and a BMP moving in”. “Wait the BMP just stopped” That’s when we heard the boom of her AW-50. “Recoilless gunner is down.” Warbird reported.

That’s when our worst nightmare showed up. Lilgun called out “I’ve got four T-80’s inbound on my position” We could see the dust trails and I knew given where they were and where Lilgun was she was in big trouble. The last thing we heard from her mic was the grinding sounds of treads. It would be later found out that she had been run over.

Rockets once again filled the air. This time from other Javelins and Dean’s Cobra. The four tanks were downed 30m from where Lilgun was at. That’s when the lines started to crumple. First Shotgun went down, then Warbird. I called for everyone to fall back as Dean provided support. I reached over to grab Will and that’s when I took my round.

They said it hit me square in my back all I knew was that I was down and couldn’t move. I wanted to but couldn’t. Dek’s grabbed Will himself and got him moving. CK was swinging around and flanked the enemy himself along with Dean’s help from above. We had them turning.

As the enemy was thinned out more they began a retreat of their own. It wasn’t long before we realised that we had done it. We had repelled a large scale attack. It wasn’t without it’s own cost. With our depleted force we decided to hold our position and wait to be reinforced. We fought them to a stalement. Not quite the victory we were looking for but once the team had been re-equipped and re-armed they would move out to clear the island. The question remained as to who would be able to join on that op.

Stout Hearts

|RE|Warhawk

[AUS_Viper]

Airfield Patrol..By Viper.

=====================================================

“God I wish I was in an ASLAV” I shouted.

The crew looked up and nodded, almost in unison. A few smiled, one even chuckled. I guess I wasn’t surprised by the lukewarm response to my attempt at humour; all minds were focused on the job at hand. Only a few had been under fire before, the rest were experiencing it for the first time. I looked over at Sissman and Harding and the pre-contact stress was evident on their faces. Sure they had trained with us for ages, but this hot dusty hellhole was a far cry from Puckapunyal.

Deks, Duggy and I had shared dirt in many skirmishes before, but this was the first time we had been in ops with our new section leader Gordon. His reputation was well known in the regiment; a skilled and hard soldier with little patience for slackers or fools. Some of the guys in 3RAR even called him a robot or UNISOL due to his apparent lack of fear and superhuman ability with the Steyr. I’d seen him on the range a few times and I must admit, he was special with a rifle.

The M113AS4 trudged on. It’s loud diesel engines and screeching tracks reverberated into your very soul. I wasn’t kidding about wishing to be in an ASLAV. I’d much prefer to be sitting in an air conditioned armoured vehicle that actually had decent suspension rather than this Pre-Vietnam tin can. At least in an ASLAV you didn’t feel each bump in your spine.

It was at least 45 degrees outside in the shade, but inside must have been another ten. Sweat rained from my body to the extent that I found myself wiping my brow every 30 seconds. My AUSCAM’s felt so damp that I actually started thinking I might have caught a bug from the local produce; but after looking at the other digs in the crew I soon realised that it was the heat and stress and not some dodgy goat meat curry.

Curry flavours left my conscious in a split second as the 5/7 “track” skidded to a halt. We were here. The hydraulics of the rear door fired up before I heard the crackling voice in my comms shout commands. It was time to leave our wonderful limousine and start earning our pay. Up, out and down.

In an instant I was 50m from the track and in the dirt scanning for contacts. Adrenalin pumping, heart pounding but in control. “This is what we do,” I reminded myself, to help slow my rapid-fire heartbeat down to normal. Deep breaths and scan for contacts……..

The world returned to normal speed and I lifted my head to take a recce of what was happening. Sissman and Harding to my right, Deks, Dugs and Fine to my left. Gordon was 50m in front with Church scanning the village with Bino’s. Bill Dana with the F89 was covering our six and the M113AS4 moved into a valley away from aim of any vicious RPG7’s.

Gordon pocketed his Bino’s and exchanged signals with Church – no voices, just hand movements. Church nodded, went prone and started crawling towards the village. There was a fire burning somewhere as I could see the smoke column and smell the distinct odour of pine ash. I used the F88 Steyr’s 1.5 zoom to watch Church as he slowly, but deliberately made his way to a bamboo clad hut. Almost there……

Clack..Clak…Clak! the distinct sound of an AK burst into life followed by an eerie thwack..thwack…the sound of projectiles hitting flesh. Church was down.

Almost simultaneously the bushes and trees surrounding the village came alive and started spewing 7.62 rounds in our direction. F88 Steyr’s responded and the previously quiet landscape erupted into a cacophony of gunfire. Off to my left I heard the F89 Minimi burst into action; throwing tracers and 5.56mm rounds into the muzzle flashing bushes. A few puffs of dirt to my 2 o’clock made me keep my head down.

The radio traffic went bezerk as our section leader tried to keep us focussed. I missed most of the relay until I heard “4 target man 3 o’clock”. Time to act. I scanned the immediate area and saw a tree some 30m ahead…..two deep breaths and up……sprinting for the cover. I was there! Quickly switching to my scope I saw the target – so much for rebels, this guy looked better kitted than most of us; Wap..Wap..Wap….three 5.56 rounds into the target. “Target is down” I spat into my mike.

Crack….the sound of a Dragunov split the air. Damn, there were snipers in this ambush. I turned to my 9 o’clock and witnessed our medic Mike Fine running towards Jack Harding; Harding’s face was twisted into a grotesque mask by the pain from his wound; his teeth clenched so tight the veins in his neck were popping like some kind rock singer belting out a song. The cammed pants of his right thigh were strawberry red already – the 7.62mm had hit an artery on the way through. Fine…almost there…dropped prone and continued crawling…what a brave son of a ######.

Crack!….Fine is down. ###### sniper set him up by wounding Harding. Crack!….Harding slumps down no longer holding his leg. Harding is down…..###### SNIPER!!!! What the ###### is this? Full metal Jacket???? Crack!….off to my right this time…Bill Dana’s F89 is silent. Maybe it’s a jam? I look around and see him face down on his Minimi…he looks kind of peaceful, almost like he’s sleeping. God dammit, somebody take out this SOB!

Wap...Wap…Wap! “Sniper is down” shouts Gordon through my comms. Holy ######! I couldn’t even see the ######, yet our section leader nailed him. Maybe the UNISOL rumours are true…..

The M113AS4 (track) bursts into life. Screaming like a banshee, belching diesel smoke into the air, it moves up from the valley into higher ground to engage contacts. The 5/7 boys stop at the crest and start giving them the good news with the 50. The unmistakeable sound of a big calibre gun echoing through the valley is somewhat reassuring – especially when it’s on your side. I see tracers screaming through the air and cutting up trees, bushes and timber huts. It’s like a ###### chain gun demolishing foliage that probably started growing before I was born. Hope none of the locals are home today.

The thudding sound of big rounds hitting dirt, trees and pine wakes up the soldier in me. Time for action. I jump from prone and sprint to the nearest hut. Heart pounding, breath laboured, but I’m still alive and have a job to do. Muzzle flashes at my 11 o’clock…..bring up the Steyr, steady….squeeze the trigger….Wap..Wap..Wap! The olive green helmet in the circular centre of my 1.5x scope drops to the dirt. Target down.

Thwack..Thwack..Thwack! Wood splinters from the bamboo hut shower my sweating face. Drop to the dirt…edge backwards….damn that was close! Where is the SOB? The rounds hit before I heard the crack, so he must be in the village and not with the rest of the ambush squad on the hill. Prone, I crawl to the side of the hut and scan. The comms set crackles into life.

“Vipes…stay down!” It’s Deks.

Wap..Wap! The rounds land in a bush 5m in front of me. There’s a sound of movement and then another Wap..Wap..Wap..Wap. Then nothing. Deks’ distorted voice comes back…

“Vipes, you’re clear”.

Jeez that was too close for comfort. Another inch around the corner of the hut and I’d be joining Harding, Fine and others in God’s transit lounge. I press my TS comms button to thank Deks but before I mutter a word an AUSCAM’ed figure bolts from the bushes and lands next to me, back against the hut wall. It’s Deks.

“Hey Vipes..you got a smoke? I bloody left my bungers in the track” He cockily remarks.

“Sure mate. When we get out of this ######, we’ll both take 5 and share some nicotine sticks.” I manage to spit out, still shaken from my near death experience.

The M113’s 50 has raised some interest with the rebels. Movement to my 2 o’clock. I move to scan the initiator, but before I can….”Whoooosh….Bam!” A Rocket Propelled Grenade flies into the turrent of the track. Sparks, smoke and metal shower the area. Red-hot shrapnel shreds Sissman who was standing too close to the track for cover; poor ###### didn’t have a chance. Sissman wasn’t a rookie, but wasn’t a vet either. However, he bloody well should have known better than to stand so close to such an obvious AT magnet. Thank god he wasn’t married; although I guess he still has a mother and father that will get the bad news.

Another Whoosh and the track is hit broadside. The 50 is silent and its barrel is pointing south like a pensioner that needs viagra; the 5/7 gunner is down. The M113 retreats at full speed spewing dirt and vegetation from its tracks. I scope to the pos of the RPG’s smoke trail only to hear a Wap..Wap..Wap in the distance. Half a second later and the comms blurts out..

“RPG soldier is down”. Its Duggy.

The valley is suddenly swathed by the sound of 5.56mm rounds going crazy. Some semi, some sound full auto…but the Steyr is only semi, so trigger fingers must be working overtime. A brief respite then I hear..

“Clear up”

“Clear down”

It’s Gordon and Duggy. They have moved well beyond the village and taken the ambush from behind. In the thick of battle, I’d lost sight of these two, but they must have managed to circle the aggressors and turned the tables. Two guys against ten…VC material if I ever heard of it. Inspirational job lads.

Minutes later and the four of us have regrouped at the wounded M113. Gordon had placed a satchel at the ammo cache and had the finger on the fun button. All aboard and onto the next waypoint. The track moves off with us in the belly and Gordon touches off the charge. Objective completed.

The next waypoint seems much too familiar. Similar village, similar surroundings and similar feeling. Gordon senses it too and tries to jeep us focussed.

“OK lads, lets finish this job so we can enjoy some decent brew back at the airfield” he adds.

Ramp down, all out and the 5/7 track moves to safety. The diesel exhaust now belches out a thick black smoke trail that would make even a smoker cringe. Signs of a crippled vehicle; I hope it gets us home.

In the dirt again. Mag changed in the belly of the metal 5/7 track, so should be good to go. But, I still eject, check the feed and slam home again; a quick pull back of the slide reveals the brass widow maker is where it should be…I’m locked and loaded.

The hut we need to search is at my 12 o’clock. The CSHAG squad has dispersed and is gingerly making their way to decent firing positions – it’s up to me. My time to shine. I jump from prone and sprint to the hut….the ammo cache is in range…I can see the timber of the crate, almost make out the direction of the grain. 5 more meters….no sign of trouble…keep pushing mate, you can do it…..2m….drop to prone…..1m…..I’m there! Quickly crack open the crate with my knife…there it is….a satchel charge with my name on it! Take the charge, arm it and withdraw.

I must crawl to a safe pos before I touch off. Too close now, still in the blast zone. Keep going…gasping for breath, arms feel like lead, sweat is pouring down my forehead into my eyes…no time to wipe…have to keep going.

Movement to my left! Damn it’s another ambush!

Right hand on the detonator….drop it and grab the Steyr…got it, I can feel the polymer trigger guard, swing around and…..

Clack…Clak…Clak!

Aaaaggghhh! The searing pain paralyses me. Two rounds to my left, but one round in my back. My face drops to the dirt. I taste the sandy loam….also I taste copper.......my own blood? My eyes are heavy…my arms feels like sponge….my legs are gone. No movement below the waist…am I dead? My whole body feels heavy….I need to sleep…..

Mum is calling me to get up for school….

Dad’s not at work yet…strange. He’s helping me out of bed.

“Son you need to get up now!” He grabs my arms and lifts me off the mattress….

My wife is there. She’s helping dad lift me out of bed. “Honey, it’s time to get up! NOW!”

What’s going on? My son and daughter are here now. My son is pleading…….

“Dad…you need to wake up now!” “I want to play with you” My daughters head is lowered, sobbing uncontrollably.

I climb out of bed…and then there gone.

I’m back in the dirt again. My legs don’t work and I can feel the blood seeping from my wound. There’s dust in my mouth and it grinds against my teeth. My sweating, bloodied fingers still grasp the detonator. Both 5.56mm and 7.62mm rounds are going off around me…the sound of gunfire…the sound of screaming…the sound of war.

Deks, Duggy and Gordon’s voices are intermittently broadcasted through my headset. Radio chatter of a squad overwhelmed. Good guys all of them. I hear someone shout….

“Vipes is down”

No I’m not. I use all my strength to move my hand to the TS send button and relay…

“Objective 2 complete. Get the hell out of the blast zone. Tell my wife and kids I love them!…Vipes out”

The det button resting on my thumb has little resistance. Close my eyes….remember last Christmas with the family photo….and press..

Explosions…fire…heat…smoke….dirt….and….the sound of “MISSION COMPLETE”

Then….

Darkness.

[dekela]

to both of those last two. well done lads

cheers......

[warhawk]

Well done Vipes your a great story writer and mission scripter to boot. Someone pass the tissues.

Stout Hearts

|RE|Warhawk

[dekela]

disruptive behaviour by viper

she was hot alright, hot enough to fry an egg in the shade. funny how deserts are hot, why cant they have the nice refreshing breeze like a beach. the ride in the S-70 was fast and low, the 5th AVN guys knew how to handle these birds for sure. "one minute" was the call from dan, my patrol leader for today. what a laugh that is, patrol, there were only two of us. the mission today was a simple one, find a couple of bad boy leaders and kill them. shouldnt be to hard with the weapons we had picked. both of us had gone for the 5.56 M4 SPR. handled nicely, and was very accurate. wont have to much problem with these. "30 seconds" was the next call, time for a quick check of my weapon to make sure it was locked and loaded, as if there was a doubt.

we jumped of the skids in unison, oposite sides of the bird, and both whent into a crouch to scope for targets. bloody hard to see with all this dust around, but atleast no-one was shooting at us...........unlike the last time we inserted by blackhawk. dan called it clear, and we moved off toward our RV point, which was SW of the enemy encampment. dan was a young first time officer, straight out of officer school at duntroon. he no doubt new how to lead, but his initiation under fire was about to begin. "hope nothing happens to him" i thought, likeable fella, like a slinky really. "you with me deks" he called, "yeah yeah, hold ya horses mate. no need to rush these things you know". truth was that the lack of exercise and the over indulgance of cigs was making for hard work lugging my SPR and Javelin launcher up a steep sandy slope.

once we hit the top we popped the bino to have a recce of what we were about to get mixed up in. lets see, atleast tw emplaced 50's, between 20 and 30 men, and an annoying jeep doing loops around the camp with its mounted 50 swinging like a camel donger in the breeze. "what do you think" dan asked. what the ######, your the corpral here, i'm just a sarge, why ask me. "excuse me sir" i asked. "well your the more experienced of us, how do you think we should handle it'. now thats got to be a first, still shocked i rambled off my ideas. "if one of us moves to the hill on the NE of the camp, we can get a clean shot at the two jug heads in the tent" i started. "the other can lay up on the southern hill and provide cover fire if needed". there was a brief pause as dan ran through the idea, then "k, you hit the SE hill and take them out, only the targets if you can, we dont need to stir them up to much".

with that i moved off, keeping low, stopping only to watch and listen. the jeep was buzzing around, but was no direct threat to me, clowns were probably ###### the dway they were driving. i reach my position and dropped prone. over comms i heard dan say, "i have you visual, that jeep is at your 9 closing. whant me to take it out". "no" was all i said, i knew they would move past without seeing me. i scoped the tent and found my targets, sitting like ducks, ready for the slaughter. i waited until hte jeep was out of range of sight and sound, squeesed the trigger twice and...........first target down. the second bloke jusmped as he was hit with brain matter, but unfortunately he didnt move fast enough. one shot, that hit home. "targets down" i called over comms, at the same time i heard the faint clack of dans weapon. i dragged myself up and started the move back to where dan was plinking away like a kid at a side show.there was some sporadic gun fire from the camp, but the poor buggers had no idea where we were.

as i reached dans position, we both heard the jeep to our left. no words were uttered, but as it crested the ridge, we fired. driver, gunner and two passengers down straight up. the other two jumped clear of the vehicle, but were cut down all the same. some enemy fire was starting to stray our way, so we capped of a couple more at the camp and then headed of towards the NW. "hey deks, you hear that". it was a hind helo inbound to our location. "yeah dont worry bout it, they wont do......" just then cannon fire errupted all around us, christ, they saw us after all. " they wont do nuthin, nooooo" came through the headset, laced with a full dose of sarcasim. the hind made many passes, but lukily for us the gunner couldnt shoot for ######. we both heard the unmistakeable sound of a tracked vehicle inbound. "######, BM........." BOOM, my jav struck home. "nice shot mate" said dan, but there was no time for back slapping. we headed for a small town straight in front of us. as we hit the first wall i heard dans SPR bark to life. "four man patrol down". christ, this guy could shoot, i never even saw them.

we needed transport, and dan soon found a crossbike. "jump on deks, lets blow this ###### hole". but i had another plan, "you see any strela's on that patrol", "nah mate, one guy had an RPG". that was good enough for me. i made my way over to the four bodies in the sand and found what i was looking for, "now ya stuffed mister hind man" i thought. i moved into a position where i could see any approach from the hind, he was mine, he was going down. dan came up behind me at full tilt, "watch it, i think he's angry". with that there was a wall of flame in front of me, the drone of the bike loud. just like some stunt rider in a show, here was dan screaming through a flamming hell. "luck they cant shoot for ###### hey", i damn near swallowed my mic, talk about balls.

i regained my thoughts and spun to face the incoming helo.........RPG in hand. wait, wait, fire! one of.................miss. ######, reload. "dont know what your doin' deks but make it fast", came from dan. wait, wait FIRE!. for crying out loud, another miss. this tiem the hind gunner had seen me, and decided to leave dan alone while he took care of this annoying fella with the RPG. reload............aim.........."man get on, we can get outta here" on comms. "not a chance" i thought, this ###### is mine. waiting.............waiting.......he's close now.........almost there.........FIRE! i saw the plume of smoke leave the RPG and arc grasefuly toward the hind. "YES" i screamed............but the sound never left my lips. the flash from the cannon should have been a give away, only some 20 meters away. next thing i knew was i was on my back in the dirt, what the, what happened. ###### the hind is till moving, better get up and on that bike with dan. we have to get out of here. what...........i cant stand, must have copped some in the legs. not to worry, i can crawl.............i'm not moving, what in the hell is going on.

i heard a call, "deks is down, he's KIA", what...........i'm not dead you ######ing idiot. i just cant................man............what a beautifull colour that sky. so ......beautifull..........i might just lay here...........for a bit. man so..............

cheers......

[WP33]

Lipany Operations

“You have got to be frickin’ kidding!”

I slumped back against the low, broken wall that marked the edge of St. Sedio and ejected the spent mag from my rifle, exchanging for a fresh one. “Okay, keep low. Don’t go poking your head over the top of that ridge till Rich and I get up there.” The guy we called Sightseer acknowledged and the radio clicked off. I wasn’t fond of the sights he was seeing now: Three T72s over the ridge to our north, sitting on the beach.

“All right, time to find some tank busters,” I called out to Rich and we scoured the encampment for RPGs.

This wasn’t supposed to have degenerated to this point. RJ, Sight, Mac and I had infiltrated south of this small town, which was supposed to have been lifeless according to the last UAV flyover, to take an overwatch of the beach where our old friends had materiel coming ashore. UAV said no tanks, no heavy troops just yet, just a lonely old patrol boat and a handful of troops. We were going to set up east of the shore and keep on eye on things for the next couple days, building intel, then direct an airstrike onto the freshly laid camp. Of course, as usual, no plan survives contact with the enemy.

Things had been bad almost as soon as we got off the boat. We crested a rise below the town a bit carelessly and there was our first problem of the day.

“Bimp!” I hissed into the mic and dropped flat, slowly crawling backwards to the edge of the knoll. She sat about 200 meters away, tucked against a wall of the town school.

“I see it,” Sight whispered.

“Got it,” Rich replied.

Damn it! We knew better than this! Sightseer and I had been shooting together since Somalia. We had hooked up with Rich when we took our tours through South America and Eastern Africa with the famous unit known as Ghost Recon, now disbanded. Mac came to us via the world-class Team Rainbow. The four of us also had seen training and combat time with Bradbury and his top-flight Aussie lads in some coalition work in Iraq, so it’s not like we hadn’t been down this road before. We just got lax and mistakes like that can bite you in the ass.

I scanned around carefully now that we had been stupid enough to blunder into this. There were two soldiers on either side of a hastily erected roadblock into the town, a mess of barbed wire and wooden “jacks”, a stone’s throw from the BMP. Nothing else I could see in the town, as I panned across, left to right. No, wait, a flash of olive drab uniform through some buildings, then gone. Oh, nice. Tent camp in some of the busted buildings in the center of town. Panning right…

“Heads up, I got eyes on two heading straight toward us, 2 o’clock, 100,” I announced quietly. We were out in the open and there was no way of moving back out of sight without drawing attention. There was going to be shooting, and it was going to get ugly. “They don’t see us. Yet.”

“Don’t see anything,” Sight answered. Silence from Rich.

“Yeah, nothing,” Mac called. I craned my neck slowly back and left to look at them. They were just below the rise, so their view was blocked. Okay. I swung my carbine around carefully and lined up.

BAM! One down, 55 grains right under the rim of his helmet. BAM! BAM! BAM! Second one down, but sloppily, two in his left clavicle and the other through the neck. I had now made a bunch of noise and this was going to be tight.

“Bimp’s up!” Rich called. I turned just as the armor’s commander was dropping the hatch and buttoning up. I had only a couple LAWs on me, but not because we had expected to run into armor. It was intended to be more of a “troop discouragement device”. Make them think they had bit off more than they thought. I had hoped it wouldn’t have even been necessary on this trip. Oh well.

I heard the strangely metallic “poonk” of Mac’s suppressed Mk12 and saw one of the guards at the road fall backwards into the wire, a red blossom at his breast. His partner was nowhere to be seen. Now I had the LAW off my back and tugged it open, popping the rough sight up. The BMP’s cannon was turning toward us as I pushed myself into a kneel. I put the sight on the turret.

“Aww, sheeit,” I heard Mac say, and I’m sure I said it as well. I pressed the trigger seemingly just as the turret came to bear on me specifically.

FWHOOOSH! The rocket left a mist of smoke hanging in my eyes.

Sparks and a blast of black smoke jetted from the BMP’s gun turret and the rumble of the cannon never came. I pitched the LAW tube away and dropped back onto the grass. There were some muted popping and pinging sounds from the burning armor. I saw the driver’s lid open up. The driver wasn’t fast enough, though, and the cannon shells inside started cooking off in earnest. Big blast and the turret went skywards, flung into the air a good 10 feet, then dropping heavily back onto the top of the now-blackened BMP. The driver was thrown forward from the vehicle, his uniform smoking.

“Yeah!” Mac bellowed. I just sighed and put my head to the grass momentarily. Fark me, that was close. I didn’t have much time to relax. THWUMP! Dirt kicked up into my face as the boys in the village were now aware someone bad was out here. I crabbed backwards below the ridge again.

“Okay, Sight, Rich, sweep left to the north. See that hill? Try and get on that. Mac and I will head right, up into those trees, see if we can get on top of them. Fast and low. Go!” Mac and I got into a crouch, hidden behind the knoll and ran along it, moving up onto one of several hills overlooking the town as the other two went the other way.

“Got multiples down in the tent camp,” Sight sang out over the radio just as Mac and I set up amongst sparse trees, proning out. “Damn. They keep moving behind the trees. Got no shots.” I silently scanned the town, but I too saw noth- Wait.

BAM!

“One down, next to the church,” I said, moving the ACOG across the roofs of the houses and the tents.

“Two to the east, moving toward us near the road,” Mac drawled. Poonk! Poonk poonk poonk! “Down.”

“I got guys north side, near the tents,” Sight remarked. I could just make out his suppressed rifle, and heard a scream from the tent-city. “One down.” Then I heard Rich’s carbine bark into the late afternoon.

“Down.”

We picked them off as they ducked through the ruined walls and between buildings. I counted 15 bodies in a few minutes.

The unwelcome sound of an AK from near Tent Town.

“uumph.” Mac fell still a few feet from me.

Sight’s rifle spat. “Got him,” Sight announced.

“Mac.” Silence. “Mac…” Nothing. “Son of a ######.” I sidled over to him, pushed him onto his back. He appeared conscious still but there was a fist sized dark wetness at his shoulder, underneath his shattered radio.

“######, that hurts,” he murmered.

“Well, I think you’re about a lucky son of a ###### because your radio might’ve stopped that round from going too far,” I frowned. We had to tend to him, though. The tent camp had a field hospital… “All right, buddy, you hang on, you hear me? I’m getting you down there. You hold tight up here.” I keyed the mic. “Mac’s hit. We have to clear the way to that field hospital. You got overwatch, Sight. Rich, try and push in from the north and meet me there.”

“Crap. Rog.”

“Got it.”

I sprinted down the hill to town, sliding up to the front of a small bistro. Slate menu next to the door. “Hmm. I didn’t think asparagus was in season.” I peeked in the window. Dark in there, no movement. The door was locked. I leaned around the corner. “Hello, dumbass.” Guy crouching down behind a tree, looking the other way about twenty feet from me, his back exposed. I drew my suppressed Mk23 and put two 185 grainers into his spine. I moved forward and stepped through a break in the wall around the tent camp. I heard a couple low voices and some scuffling on the dirt deeper in. Quietly, I slipped around the left. Flash of blue beret between the tents. Putt! The Mk23 did its job.

There was a shout from a tent, what I could only translate as “Are you there?” but no answering call. A mad blurt of AK fire at nothing in particular and the same desperate cry, with what sounded like absolute terror in the voice. I slithered a little more between the tents, closer to the voice, and saw him there, a wild look in his eyes. He was facing me, but seemed to be utterly frozen. Too late, his AK began to rise. Putt putt! He made a strange gurgle and fell stiffly back, like a felled tree.

“Clear!” Rich called.

“Looks clear from here,” Sight chimed in, from his spot on the hill. I carefully peered into the handful of tents, found nothing but slept-in cots and the remains of the evening meal.

“Clear.”

Twenty one dead, counting the crew of the BMP. Damn. Almost a platoon. Number one, how did we not know about them, and number two, where was the rest of the platoon?

We moved Mac down to the field hospital, which was of the typically low quality we’d come to expect of the enemy at this point, and got him IVed and stabilized. We’d have to get him out of here soon, but after we made sure we weren’t leading an extract team into an ambush. I sent Sight to the north to check on our overwatch position, to see if the mission was still viable. That’s when the call came about those three tanks.

“Well, I got four,” Rich announced, stuffing one rocket into the launcher and tying the others into a canvas wrap to attach to his back.

“I found six, and two launchers” I sighed. “We’ll get some to Sight. I hope we don’t have to fool with those tanks. I need to call in.” I sparked up the SATCOM and let HQ know what was going down.

“We need to get some hard eyes on that beach, captain,” I was told.

“I have a man wounded, sir.”

“I am aware of your situation and we are sending a boat in with a medical team. They should be on-site in under an hour. However, we have intel that there is a FARP under construction north of your position and we need to hit it before they can solidify. We need to know if it’s just tanks we’re dealing with, or if there is AA. You can save more lives, here, son.”

“Yes, sir.” I gazed at Mac, laying on a cot. His shoulder was shot to ###### and he could barely breathe when moving, but he was aware and looked back at me. He gave me the thumbs up.

“I’ll be cool, man, do your thing.”

Sure as ######, there were three of the things sitting there, quietly malevolent, guns pointing out to sea. I passed the binoculars to Rich.

“Hopefully we can skirt them to the east and roll behind them. The FARP is north of here, about a kilometer, kilometer and a half.”

“Got it,” Rich and Sightseer nodded.

“Head it out.”

We trudged along the ridge, up above and behind the tanks. They were completely unaware of us. I could see the crew of the closest tank playing cards and messing around. Their laughter and voices drifted up to us, very distant.

“Son of a-“ Rich hit the dirt next to me. “Down down down!” The trees ahead of us burst into toothpicks and very closely afterward, a distant KABLOOM!

BMP about 500 yards north of us rolled down from the ridgeline under a cloud of black diesel. I saw a yellow flash, and the ground in front of us tossed into the air. KABLOOM!

“######! Get on those tanks! We can’t have them getting into this!” I heard the thump/whoosh of an RPG going downrange as I wiped grit from my eyes. There was a crack and a thump as one hit a T72. I pulled mine off my back and found that BMP, now only 300 yards away and headed straight at us. The ground heaved behind me as I saw the BMP’s muzzle light up again. I let the rocket go, hitting it straight on. The BMP pulled to its right, rolling out of control down the hill toward the beach, into the ocean. I was aware of another metallic clap as another RPG hit the second T72. I was already reloading my RPG. The third tank was about 500 yards out. The gun was rotating, looking for targets, but luckily the heavy, black smoke of the burning BMP and other tanks was obscuring us. I targeted the turret and fired. Miss. ######.

“High! Loading!” I called out. Sight’s rifle was sending rounds downrange as enemies poured out of one of the flaming tanks and Rich’s carbine was looking for targets too. I got another rocket ready to go as the third T72 put it into gear and was rolling toward our position. I launched and a trick of the eye seemed to show me the rocket going down the barrel of the tank! It didn’t, though, hitting just below. It served the same purpose, however, as the tank stopped dead momentarily, then started backing up lamely, thick, noxious smoke flooding out of the cannon. I loaded up my last RPG and took deliberate aim. This one killed the tank completely.

Silence.

I checked the boys. Rich’s face was covered in black and dirt, but he grinned. Sight was breathing hard, sat down, but gave me the OK sign. “Got ‘em. Looks clear.”

“Sweet. Saddle up. Gotta keep going, though I’m sure everyone on the continent knows we’re here now.”

We kept on the ridge, moving north about 600 yards. There was a UAZ ahead, two soldiers crouched next to it, looking out at the pall of smoke over the beach. I halted the group.

“Damn it. Patrol. Maybe we can grab their vehicle...”

“Afternoon, boys!” As the two jokers were turning behind to look behind them, where we had snuck to within 30 feet, there was a rattle of carbine fire and they pitched into the dirt. The UAZ was ours, now. I moved a bit to peer down the ridge as Sight took the car forward and Rich checked the bodies. I didn’t really know the RPG soldier was sneaking up the hill until the top of his helmet came into view.

I hurriedly pulled my rifle up as he spotted me and fired, sending four or five rounds whizzing past my head. “Clunk.” Oh, you are joking! Jam! I dropped the rifle to my waist, snapping the pistol up. “Help!” I yelled, but too late. The soldier fired a string, and if felt as if my entire torso burst into flames. I got one shot off, into his thigh, then popping one past his head. Rich’s carbine thundered and the enemy fell. As did I.

“Okay. That hurts a little bit.” I rolled over and tried to push up, but my left arm didn’t really want to work, nor did my left leg. “Hmm. This is weird.” Rich appeared above me, upside down.

“All right, man, you just lay still. Don’t move.” His voice sounded a little rough. He got into his med kit and got to work on me.

“What happened?” I heard Sight’s voice over the radio. He was a couple hundred yards ahead, in the UAZ.

“WP’s hurt.” I heard the vehicle putter back. Sight appeared in my vision briefly. I heard the two discuss me in low voices.

“Dude’s hurt bad. Look at this. Should we get him back to the town?”

“Like hell!” I tried to shout. Sounded like a croak. They came back over me. “You keep going, damn it. We’re almost there. You need to put eyes on that FARP.” They glanced at each other.

“Get him into the UAZ.”

It hurt to breathe deeply, and I hurt all over in my seat in the UAZ. Sight had radioed into HQ and the med team was not far away, after they had packed up Mac. He was going to be okay. I listened to the radio chatter as Sight and Rich set up to look at the FARP.

“Christ. Bimp in the middle of the camp. I count four or five soldiers.”

“Yep. That’s not the bimp crew, either. Looks like they’re expecting us.”

“Wait, hear that?”

I heard it too. A distant rumbling. Armor, coming toward the FARP.

“Sounds like another bimp.”

“And a tank.”

“Great.”

“Here they come!”

It took several minutes for the armor to find them.

“Looks like at least a squad with them on foot.”

“Yeah, gotta get outta here.”

“Too late!”

There were sounds of gunfire in the distance.

“Take out that bimp in the camp.”

“Got it.” I heard it go from where I sat. “Got the soldiers with that kill, too.”

“T72 and bimp coming down from the ridge.”

“I got one RPG, you have any?”

“I have one. Saw one body down there with another.”

Another blast.

“T72 is hurt.”

Machine gun fire.

“Okay. Got the other RPG.”

One more blast.

“T72 down. Watch out for those troops and that bimp.”

“I don’t see-“

Sounds like a rattling bang, then a bunch of static over the com.

“Rich?” Nothing. “Damn.”

For the next ten minutes, I heard nothing except scattered AK fire, then an enormous BOOM nearby. A black smoke ring ascended just over the trees from me.

“Well, that was close,” Sight breathed into the com. “Got two more guys hiding down there. I think the rest bugged out."

There was an engine sound behind me, and I fought to clutch at my carbine and turn over in my seat, pointing the weapon out of the window. I wasn’t going out lying down. To my relief, it was the med team. I slumped back. The FARP was knocked out. Within hours there were Marines swarming all over the area and they chased down and killed one more tank.

Rich was okay, after all. He had been knocked unconscious by a blast from the BMP, and had his ankle broken. Sight carried him back to the UAZ after finishing off the two remaining enemy soldiers. Mac had been spirited to the med team’s boat, and hell, I only needed 6 weeks of recovery time, then it was off to the desert…

Edited April 25, 2005 by WP33

[Snake@War]

Dude... that was good WP.

You can sure tell a good story.

You've got talent man!

[snared_gambit]

Very nice, these are much more fun to read then the GR war stories. Good job to all, I've enjoyed these very much. Makes me want VBS more.

[WP33]

Disruptive Behavior- part 2

I closed my eyes and turned my face into the hot wind streaming in through the open door of the Blackhawk. I could only smile at times like these, the restful valleys in the ups and downs of the "life". The chopper tilted a little left as the pilot corrected his course.

"SO, I'M HEARING THE AUSSIES LOST A COUPLE GUYS OUT HERE LAST WEEK!" Rich shouted over the din of the chopper's rotors. I opened my eyes and glanced at him, then out over the tan blur below us, dunes rising and falling below the vehicle, some no more that a man's height away.

"YEAH! THEY LOST TWO GOOD OPERATORS, A REAL VET AND ONE NEW BLOOD, COUPLA FIRE PISSERS!" I yelled back. I shook my head. "I THINK THEY WERE GORDO'S BOYS!"

"DAMN!"

"One minute to drop," the pilot intoned over the chopper's headset I wore.

"ONE MINUTE!" Sight and Rich nodded. I pulled the headset off at thirty seconds and hung it up, snapping on my own earpiece to communicate with my team.

The chopper came to almost a dead stop, nose flaring up slightly, then settled down into a swirling ball of dust. I dropped my pack over the side and when I saw sand below, jumped the five feet down next to it. Crouching, I turned and saw Rich and Sight had made the jump and were slinging their packs. The chopper was already 200 yards away, hauling ass outta there. There were stories of a Hind out here somewhere, and maybe a damned Shilka. They wanted no part of either.

"We good?" They nodded. "Ai-ght. Let's see how far the pilot dropped us." I pulled out my GPS and stood chewing the inside of my mouth for a moment.

"What?" Rich checked the alignment of his ACOG and glanced at me when he saw my face.

"Oh, we're only about six, seven kay emms from the target site. Punk ass pilots! Son of a ######. We gotta get a ride."

"What?! Maaan..." Rich looked distressed.

"Hey, if you'd quit smoking, it probably wouldn't be that bad a run, maaan." I grinned at him and tucked the GPS away.

"Yeah, well, it's like what they call an oral fixation, you know?"

"Less said about that, the better," Sight smirked, intently threading the suppressor onto his M21.

"Sheeit." Rich spat into the dirt and dug out his binoculars, looking south. "Got a hangar way out there. Two kays maybe. Got an open truck. There's our ride."

"Sweet. Day's looking up already."

*****

"Crap. Why do my days always end up like this?"

Laying on the dune just north of the hangar, there we saw that parked Hind we had heard about, and sure enough, there was the Shilka squatting evilly on the other side of it.

"Think we can get to that truck before they know it's gone?" Rich had his binos trained on the truck, which sat on the opposite side of the hangar.

"Phht. They'll hear it and then that-" Sight motioned at the Hind, "thing will get up and blow us away."

"Yeah, for sure," I nodded and slipped back down the lee-side of the dune. "Typical, eh?" I sat up, lost in thought, just about to announce that we were going to be hoofing it after all, when I glanced up for some reason and saw him.

Less than one hundred yards away, facing toward me, standing on the edge of a dune, merrily whizzing away, was what we refer to in my circles as a "Bee Gee". A bad guy if you will.

Well, Mr. Bee Gee shook it out about that time and zippered up. We caught eyes almost the same moment.

"Oh, damn!" I cursed exactly as he shouted something over his shoulder. He got about half of it out before I put two into his chest. He half twisted and fell face-first down the dune, helmet spilling off. Suddenly, there were two other helmets poking over the dune and I heard the rumble of diesel.

"Burdum!" Rich yelled.

"Uh oh! Bird just buttoned up and I see the pilot firing it up!" Sight shouted, looking back at the hangar. He dropped and started pumping rounds at the chopper, which I could hear THWACK-ing off the bullet-proofed glass.

There was a deep bellowing BLOOOM in the dune face behind us and sand showered down. The Shilka was shooting now.

The BRDM had now rolled down the hill a little bit toward us, the two soldiers in tow. I slid a forty mil into my M203 and popped it at the front wheel. The BRDM halted jerkily as the tire was shredded. I put another one into the other front wheel and Rich popped the two BGs as they panicked to get away from my portable artilllery. I fired one more round from the M203 and it punched through the now shattered glass of the driver's window. A muted FLOOMP! came from the driver compartment and a lick of flame. The side door cranked open and amongst the heavy smoke one man emerged

BAM! Rich dropped him.

By this time, I was painfully aware of the high whine of the Hind's engines kicking up. I turned in time to see it hop upwards and lurch forward, the big gun under the nose swinging around. Draped with gunpods and rocket launchers hung under stubbed wings, the impression was of a hump-backed, vicious buzzard. Waiting to devour the dead.

The Hind roared overhead and I could see the pilot glaring down at us.

"Run!" The chopper spun almost directly over us, drifting a little bit and losing us in the turn, thankfully.

"RPG!" Rich shouted, pointing at the BRDM, or more accurately the dead soldiers laying behind it.

He and I made it there at the same time, just as the chopper bore down on us.

Such thunder erupted around us it was nearly unbearable, my ears ringing painfully, even despite the noise-cancelling earphones.

The gunner was a bad shot. The Hind roared away, but not far. I could hear it turning.

"Phlat! Blech!" I spat out dust and sand, though I'd still be eating for weeks afterwards it seemed with grit crunching between my teeth.

Rich and I each grabbed an RPG from the dead bodies. "Where is it?" he asked. I popped my head around the hulk of the BRDM and spotted it, inching toward us from about 200 feet out, back over the tarmac from where it had taken off.

"Coming this way. Don't think he saw me."

"Okay. Payback's a ######." And Rich hopped out and let fly with the RPG. The pilot was pretty good. He managed somehow to swivel the bird slightly, so that what had looked like a dead on perfect shot only clipped his right pylon. The blast knocked the chopper a little backwards, but the pilot looked to be correcting it. I fired my rocket before he could, however, punching through the gunner's bubble. A shower of white hot metal burst from the front of the chopper and it listed to the left, dropping on top of the Shilka, blasting a hole in the side of it. A hatch was flung creakingly open but Sight's muted M21 put the escaping crewman back in his place.

"Hmm. That was lucky." Rich laughed at me. "Now, how about that ride?"

*****

"Well, of course it's missing the steering wheel," Sight pointed out. "It's WP's fault. He has the worst luck I've ever seen." Rich scratched his head and stared at the bare steering column of the truck.

"Hey, if I had the 'worst luck' like you say, we'd all be dead many times over, yo," I pointed out. Sight arched an eyebrow at me and I pointed at him. "Don't say anything." I put my hands on my hips and looked around the dirt. "Who the hell takes the steering wheel?"

"Burdum?" Sight glanced over my shoulder. I grimaced.

"Pretty much shot to ######."

"There's a town down there, 'bout a mile." Rich hooked a thumb over his shoulder, pointing south as he tucked his Camelbak's water tube into his mouth. I peered through binoculars in that direction through the shimmering heat at the dilapidated buildings and crumbling walls.

"Well, you're being awful generous there," I smirked.

"Well, whatever. Maybe there's a beater we can grab." We all three shrugged and turned toward town.

The welcoming committee was out in full force, four weathered old men in identical looking white dress-like tunics, turbans covering their heads. I could've sworn they were quadruplets and had to look at them twice. No...

The old men bowed and waved both hands at us, backing out of our way, but not turning away. They muttered in low voices as we passed into the village, and I could feel their eyes on the weapons we carried. Rich stopped and said something to them in Arabic (not a language I was able to pick up easily), to which the old men responded with cracked smiles, the few remaining teeth among them yellowed and gnarled in leathery faces. They offered hands to us, chittering away happily. One of them pointed back toward the hangar.

"He says he's glad we sent those men to Allah," Rich explained. The man continued. "Very bad men. They killed some of the villagers. For ######s and giggles." I frowned at that. The man's tongue was loose now. He kept on. "Oh, this is interesting." Rich perked up. "He knows of a truck, a big truck, big rocket on the back." Rich glanced at me. "Scud maybe?" I inclined my head. Maybe. Rich said something to the man. "He says southwest of here, seven, eight miles, in an oasis. I've seen that oasis on satellite photos, I know where that is..." Sight, Rich and I looked at each other for a moment.

"Once we find our boy, then we can call it in," I said at last. They grinned. The old men grinned as well, though they had no idea what we were talking about. I chuckled. "Ask them about a vehicle." Rich spoke.

Suddenly one of the other old me burst into a stream of chatter. "Whoa, whoa, whoa." I motioned to slow down. "What was that?"

"Hmm." Rich's brow furrowed. "Well, he said his car is over there," he pointed to the center of the ville, "but men, guys he thinks were deserters or foreigners have 'borrowed' it, and won't give it back. Buncha hardasses, apparently. Armed and like to show it off. He says he'd be happy to have us take the car, but for obvious reasons, he can't actually give it to us." The old man looked at us silently, then reached out for my gloved hand. I took his hand. He stared at me, touched the American flag on my shoulder and nodded once. I blinked and swallowed hard. We thanked the old men and strolled into the village.

"Ahh, the neighborhood punks are out," I noted upon entering the open square. Five or six men, ranging from their early twenties to their mid-thirties hung around a beat up yellow Fiat. Rich nudged me about the time I noticed one of them put a hand behind his back. Pistol. Rich called out in Arabic that the man out front wanted his car back. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sight pull his M21 a little tighter, the muzzle imperceptibly rising. I shifted my carbine as well. It would take a milisecond to bring it to bear, and I felt it would be needed in seconds. There was just something in the air. The three of us spread out just a little bit, putting cover between us and them, nothing overt, but noticeable to me. One of the punks answered Rich, and there was a bleat of laughter from the group. Rich repeated his request. Pistol boy chose this moment to raise the gun over his head and brandish it in what he probably thought was an intimidating manner. Rich screamed at him, several times, probably to put it down.

I swept the group with my eyes. Oh, here we go. One of them was reaching slowly into the Fiat. The butt of an AK appeared.

BAM! BAMBAM! I put rounds into him and Rich dropped the guy with the pistol. One of the others shot a hand into the waistband of his pants, but Sight was there to put a round through his chest that punched through and shattered the driver's side window. The other three guys had their hands in the air immediately. We ran forward, kicking them to the ground. Rich searched them and found nothing, so he put a boot in their asses, telling them to run for the hills and not come back.

The old men were there suddenly, and miraculously, about 20 villagers had appeared from no where, clapping us on the back and pumping our hands. Some took to beating the dead thugs with their shoes.

The owner of the Fiat was by his car now, running his hands over the dents he obviously didn't put there, and fingering the broken glass of the window. He looked heartbroken. He spoke quietly with Rich for a moment, then shook hands.

"It's ours. He says we'll need it, if we're going to find the Scud."

"Tell him thanks again and, hell, I don't know, promise him we'll be back to repay him." I knew the odds of that were slim, but I had to say something.

The old man just smiled at me and touched my chest and gave me the thumbs up. He displayed the thumb to all three of us. We returned it. "Saddle up ladies," I called and we piled into the Fiat, Sight at the wheel. As he turned the key, I motioned the owner over to me. He came up, face blank. I reached up onto my shoulder and pulled the velcroed flag off. I passed it through the window to him. A slow smile passed over the old man's face and he raised the flag to his lips.

"Saddam go hell!" the old man cackled and I broke into laughter. Sight floored it and we sped out of the town. Rich groaned.

"Damn, dude, turn on the AC!"

"Shut up."

*****

I was wishing that damn jeep would get a flat or run over a mine or otherwise just blow up. Something. Anything. Just shut up. Those idiots were just out there burning gas at this point and really making me nervous. UAV had shown at least one jeep in the area with an MG and a mortar and two MGs at the outpost. The mortar and other MGs didn't have wheels, though.

I didn't know what to think of the outpost. It was in a good spot, that's for sure. They could probably see the plume of dust from our car from miles away. Lots of flat land, and hardly any cover. Good place for BGs to have a little tete a tete with some terrorist-types, eh?

"Burnt out bimp right there," Sight noted, peering through the binoculars. Looks like there was a firefight pretty recently.

"Them Aussie boys," I nodded. "Damn, they can do some damage." Too bad about them.

"So, just the Iraqi officer then?" Rich inquired.

"Well, if we see any non-mil types in there, we need to try and put hands on them."

"Not going to be easy," Sight said, now looking at the outpost, a kilometer distant. "They're sandbagged to all hell and got dudes everywhere. The Aussies must've scared the ###### out of them. They're dug in."

"Nice. All we need."

"Can't we just call in an airstrike?"

"Assets are tied up at Mosul, Basrah and Baghdad. You know that. We are in no-man's land right now. Lots of hidden ###### up in those hills just waiting for one of our planes to come down in here."

"Yeah, roger that." Resignation.

"Long and short, if we can't grab him, put the Iraqi officer down. He's been hosting outside elements since the war started last month, and it'd be nice to find out who, but it won't break anyone's heart if he can't talk to his buddies anymore, dig?"

"Yep." Rich nodded.

"Well, okay then. Time to get it on. Leave the car here. We'll have to crawl up."

Rocks are not much cover. At least the smaller ones. And there were no "bigger" ones out here, either. At two hundred yards, the enemy still hadn't seen us.

"Sight, you know what's up," I said.

"Yeah." Phoont! at the muzzle of his rifle, a strange, muted sound that had no direction. There was a sick splat a split second later and one of the MG gunners fell over. His partner next to him looked down, then out to the desert, but in the wrong direction. Phoont! There went the other gunner. Now we had a beehive going on. Soldiers running to and fro, madly looking for the stick that was stirring them up.

Phoont! Mortar down. ZIIIIP!CRAACK! Oh damn, they'd seen us. THWUMP! Dust in my face. I found the shooter and dropped him. Rich's weapon roared to life and I could hear Sightseer's pace pick up.

"Bah!"

"Hit?" I glanced at Sight, laying ten, fifteen feet to my left.

"I'm okay. Rock chip hit my forearm."

The center MG rumbled, puffing up dust around my legs. One round pulled through the sleeve of my jacket. "Oh, ###### this!" I cranked a forty at the emplacement and was rewarded with a fine, deep BLAM! A fountain of dirt flew upwards, a body backwards. I stuffed another round in and dropped one into the center of the camp. It hit the campfire, scattering embers into the surrounding tents, casting them ablaze. Smoke now roiled throughout the came, forcing the enemy out of cover.

"Nice work!" Rich crowed, then bent to the task at hand.

Suddenly, the jeep was bearing down on us from the left, the bed-mounted MG chattering happily away, pecking at the rocks between us. Rich's shot opened up the gunner's head, sending him bouncing to the dirt behind the jeep. It took a moment for the driver to realize he no longer had help, then madly spun the wheel away from us, rolling in front of the camp. We opened up on him, bullets smacking and pinging off the vehicle. The driver slumped and the jeep slammed to a halt against the sandbags.

In minutes, and after a couple well placed M203 rounds, the rest of the shooting died down to just a couple random shots. Phoont! Smack! No more shots.

"Hold," I instructed. We scanned the camp. Nothing. "Move up."

The smoke was still strong, masking our approach. "Rich, check the tents, Sight, hold next to the MG and I'll look in the ruins." I crouched behind a jeep in the compound, one that was still smoldering from a near-direct forty round and peeked around. Ahh, joker laying near the piled up, smoking tents. BAM! Down.

Lucky I heard the shunk! of a GP25 launcher being opened up, because the guy had me dead to rights otherwise. I hadn't seen him, but he sure saw me. To my right, maybe thirty feet from me. I was cramped against a tree and couldn't bring the gun up correctly, so I fired a completely unsighted shot around the tree that clipped him straight in the forehead.

"Nice shot," Rich dryly noted. "Camp's clear."

I stepped into the ruined mud-brick buildings and poked around. Bodies everywhere, but none moving. "Clear."

"Well, our officer's dead. Forty emm shrapnel in his ass." Rich handed me the ID he found. "And the guys in civilian clothes, they smell Al Qaeda, to me."

"Agreed. Good work, boys. Hopefully we just thinned their ranks a bit." Nods all around. "How's that MG jeep?" Sight frowned.

"Busted up. Four flats and it's leaking fluid. Looks like it's the yellow submarine."

"Well, go grab it. Time for some snaps." I produced the small digi camera supplied by HQ and started taking some photos of the camp, making sure to capture the civilian-dressed gents' faces. Then I called it in. I told them about the mysterious truck.

"Well, you got your wish guys, we get to go look for a Scud!"

*****

I tapped at the ground impatiently with my foot, arms folded across my chest, then rubbed my face wearily.

"How'd you break it?"

"Man, I'm telling you, it's your lousy luck that does this!"

"No. Frickin'. Way. Pal. I'm taking away your license."

Somehow, Sight broke our car. He must've plowed a rock pretty good, or something, because the steering was jacked. It would turn one way, but not the other. We could drive in circles, or just off a straight line. Or we could run. I looked to the southwest, saw the sky starting to grow pink as sunset approached.

"How far?" Rich asked.

"Round abouts three miles," I replied. Rich looked put out for a moment.

"Whatever." I threw my head back and laughed.

"Ahh, it's good for you, man."

"Yeah. I hate running."

Never try to break any mile records in the desert, with a pack after shooting and getting shot at all day. You won't do it.

Forty five minutes later, we sat perched on the rim of an enclosed oasis, palms and scrub strewn below.

"I don't see nothing," Rich whispered.

"It's not down there," Sight replied quietly, gazing through his rifle scope. "Look across."

"Oh." Across a gap in the rock sat the Scud, draped in netting. Two soldiers lounged near it.

"Well, we have a safe-zone about a half mile to the northeast we can haul ass to once we blow the Scud. I'll call in the extract now."

In minutes I had the chopper pilot on the radio.

"We are inbound to your extract. Touchdown in two-five minutes."

Perfect. Now we had to kill some time.

"Ten minutes, then we pop the Scud and run like hell to extract," I announced. I made sure my appropriated RPG was good to go, then laid silently.

"Hey," Rich said softly a minute later. "Remember when we got sent to South America for a couple weeks, had to sit in the jungle, monitoring drug traffic, interdicting planes and all that? That sucked." Sight and I traded a look.

"South America, huh?"

"Yeah, then they all came after us. Got ugly." I closed my eyes and shook my head.

"Dude, that's a Tom Clancy book you're talking about. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What? No."

"I don't think he's had enough water today," Sight chuckled.

"What? What book?"

"Clear and Present Danger, dummy!"

"Oh. Well. Yeah. That sucked for them, I guess." Rich blinked a few times. He didn't look that great.

"Drink your water and shut up. Just be ready to run in a few minutes. Remind me to kill you later."

With fifteen minutes left before our ride touched down, Sight lined up his shots on the Scud crew and I targeted the machine itself. His shots were lost in the gush of rocket noise. I didn't even wait to see how my shot went. I knew it was true.

Big blast of fire and rending of metal behind us, but we were already halfway down the dune, on the way to EZ.

A couple times we heard a truck distantly behind us, but it never got any closer.

Lovely noise, the THUMPATHUMPATHUMPA of your ride out of a hot zone. As we panted our way to our bus stop, it grew in volume.

"Popping green." I flung a smoke canister ahead of us and just as it spat it's contents, the chopper hove into view, bending around a ridge of dunes, spiraling dust in a plume behind it. When it was on the ground, nothing felt better that putting butt to seat and strapping in.

As the chopper lifted off and I pulled off my boots to shake the sand from them, I could just spot the village we had appropriated the car from and thought of the people there. I touched the bare velcro patch where a simple piece of cloth had hung earlier in the day and smiled. I don't know if it was a fair trade, his car for that patch, but then again, was it about the patch anyway?

I'd be back there, soon as we had this all tied up.

Edited April 26, 2005 by WP33

[Dugite]

You stirred up a hornets nest of talent here Deks.

Great stuff guys.

[warhawk]

Nice one WP. Good read

Stout Hearts

|RE|Warhawk

[WP33]

Thanks guys. Been a long while since I flexed those particular muscles.

[Suicide Commando]

Great stuff guys.

[warhawk]

Operation Hammerstroke-

The morning air was not only filled with the smell of the morning dew but also of a bit of uncertainty. It had only been a couple of weeks since those Aussie boys had been brought in to bolster our capabilities. They were a good group of guys all of them. We had worked on a few operations together in the past and always things had turned out reasonably well. But something was just a bit different this time. I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

The battles had raged in this theatre for sometime now. Most of what remained for towns were really nothing more than mere shells of a former life. The enemy had been pushed back across the river east of Davle and it was there that they had made their stand. Supplies were growing thin as the AA Defence network erected by the opposition was proving quite formidable. The mission was expected to take quite a few hours, maybe even a day, to complete. We had to knock out a forward C&C post and knock back those damn AA guns. Also we had to try to knock out four T-72’s in the area. What’s more intel had, at the last minute naturally, dropped the fact that there might even be a T-80 MBT in the area. And us with only two Javelins between both teams. Those intel weenies couldn’t even agree on the possible air threat to us either.

The sun seemed to cast an eerie shadow across the UH-60 and S-70 Blackhawk’s sitting on the tarmac as we gathered together once again and shook hands. It was good to see Dekela again and though we had never inserted in a mission with Viper his reputation proceeded him. It was a real bummer to be without Gordo and Duggy but they were on other assignments and would miss out on this op. We were down a few men ourselves but we had a job to do.

Viper spread a map of the area out between our two groups and we sat about to come up with a plan of action. We knew that pushing to far to the west with the helo’s was ill-advised and what made Dek’s say it none really understood.

“I’ll get our team across that river. Right here, just south of the C&C Postâ€

We all just kind of looked at him. I knew he had balls but this was crazy. NATO aircraft had taken a real beating over that side of river and his S-70 was no match at all for what lay ahead of him. With a few other things laid out we decided to combine our small force and move on the C&C post together but go in separate helo’s just in case. With that Will, Gordo’s brother, loaded up in the S-70 with Viper and Dekela. ShotGun, Warbird, LilGun and myself loaded up into the UH-60.

Soon the whine of helo rotors drummed out every other thought in our heads as we lifted off and headed into the morning sun. I kept an eye on the map as Shotgun kept us close to the ground to avoid detection as long as possible. I oddly never found it uneasy to be flying TNOE. It certainly kept the blood flowing. The mags for the “experimental†25mm sniper rifle were digging hard into my back which made me feel every little pull and jerk as Shotgun moved to avoid hills and trees.

We had only two of these rifles, one in each bird, and both were anti-material weapons. Supposedly they would cut through light armour with little or no effort and I guess I drew the short straw to find out for our team. I looked up and didn’t see Dek’s helo anymore scanning the radar I found him way out in front of us. He was really burning through the fuel to get there I thought to myself.

The trip was uneventful as we figured it would be. That’s until Dek’s radio came to life.

“Jesus look that AA FIRE!!!!!â€

â€We have tracers all around us†Viper called out.

With that I felt my stomach lurch up into my throat as Shotgun dumped the collective putting us down hard. I just knew he broke something on the aircraft with as hard as we hit. A quick glance out of the cockpit told me that we were exactly where we had planned on stopping.

As I jumped out and grabbed my weapon I heard Dek’s helo coming in. Something didn’t sound right about it. I soon found out why. Thick black smoke was pouring from both the engine compartment and the crew compartment. Will had both doors open trying to get fresh air in. As he touched down his team jumped out and we regrouped on our Blackhawk.

“I do believe those lads are serious about keeping aircraft out of there†said Dekela with twisted grin. No doubt trying to hide just how shaken he was. Viper was just quiet. He was a strange one to figure out for sure. Known to be quite the task master for his team, he was known to hone the CSHAG crew to sharp edge.

“I saw a couple of zodiacs on our side.†Remarked Will, bringing us all back to reality. Intel had told us that a spec op team had been sent in ahead of us to set those up and provide any last minute intel which only amounted to them hearing something tracked across the bridge at Davle.

With that we moved out. We knew what we had to do and now was the time to do it. Just how alerted the enemy would be to our presence now none of us knew but it mattered little as soon they would know without a doubt we were there. Once at the boats we all jumped in one and headed across. Dek’s cut the engine ¾ of the way over and we coasted to a nice quiet stop on the west bank. We silently split up into two assault groups and moved into position around the command post.

Weapon status was free so it was no surprise to hear an M4 come to life as a 9 man patrol popped over the ridge. With that we started moving in. Covering and moving as we went. With in no time we had control of the command post. Jeese, I though to myself, this isn’t going to be so bad after all.

Shotgun was the first to hear them. Off in the distance we could hear the unmistakable sounds of trees being snapped in half, no doubt that was the T-72’s being sent in to investigate the status of their command post. Will was moving up along the north side of the post when he got jumped. A small 2 man, probably recon, team put him down quickly. All we heard was “CONTACT!†and the following sounds of AK fire. Shotgun and Bird quickly put those two down before they could much more.

I took two steps forward and felt a sharp pain tear through my shoulder. I never even heard the report of the Dragunov but everyone else did. I scrambled to a near by bush hoping to gain some cover. I heard two more cracks of the rifle as the rounds landed close to me. This guy had my number and I knew it was only a matter of time. The rest of the team was busy looking for him but I knew I needed a better hiding spot. Seeing the half-wall in front of me I took my last step as I tried make a run for it.

The pain in my chest was excruciating. The round hit low in my sternum just missing my heart by an amount so small it was a pure and simple miracle I wasn’t killed instantly. As I lay there bleeding I heard Dek’s say “Hold Hawk, I’m coming for youâ€. After the next crack of that rifle I never heard another thing from Dekela.

The squad was taking a real beating now. All the attention being focused on the sniper had allowed the T-72’s to take a position up on a hill over looking the command post. Viper shouldered his Javelin knocking out one tank but immediately took 3 smooth bore rounds for his trouble. The blast also took out Warbird. The sniper quickly took care of LilGun.

As my life escaped my body I watched in horror as ShotGun tried shouldering a confiscated RPG launcher only to have machinegun fire from the tanks cut him to pieces. I’m so cold. Can someone get me a blanket? Hello……….. Is anyone there?? Why am I alone….

Stout Hearts

|RE|Warhawk

Edited August 15, 2005 by warhawk

[NightCrawler]

Good stuff, thanks WH.

[Zebb]

Lol, nice work mate.

[warhawk]

A light patrol

It was shaping up to be another hot day in this God forsaken sandbox. A fact that was not lost on any of those gearing up for what was suppose to be a light patrol. No heavy resistance was expected and it was deemed a perfect opportunity to test the ASLAV with it’s new MK19 weapon system. Warbird and Warfalcon were the ones picked to put the vehicle through it’s paces. There had been more than just a few improvements on this vehicle but most notably was it’s armour.

Will was wanting/needing some more time behind the turret so an M1A2 was brought up to tag along. After going over the planned patrol route, setting up comms and checking the vehicles over I gave the order to mount up. Will would be taking target practice at some old abandon vehicles once uses as car bombs, while Warbird and Warfalcon were to take point duty.

I settled down in the drivers seat and fired the tank up. It roared to life just as it was suppose to. From my left I heard the ASLAV starting up while I heard Warbird requesting a comms check.

“Lima Charlie†I replied.

With that her ASLAV lurched forward as she sped off down the tarmac heading west. The plan was to head west until we reached highway 12 headed north. From there we would proceed up to the town of Gasan Kul. Reports had indicated that we were to expect light resistance there as Opfor units had been last seen in the area. Armed with RPG’s and standard assault rifles. Once we cleared Gasan we would then proceed east to the town of Batroun where we would regroup and move to the airport at Tamet. The airport was suspected of only being lightly guarded and we were to go there and stir things up a bit. Then proceed home. Simple enough it seemed.

Nearing the end of the runway Warbird put out a contact call that brought us all back to the reality of what were doing here.

â€Looks like a standard patrol armed with RPG’sâ€. She stated.

“Load HEAT rounds†I told Will, not really expecting to get to use them.

The enemy had a habit of setting up fire teams at the end of the runway to harass aircraft coming and going from the airbase. This was no exception this time. Warfalcon opened up with his new “toy†and the patrol was quickly decimated. He barely fired a half a dozen rounds into the patrol. This new system was looking good already. It’s new optics were suppose to greatly increase what the operator could see and afford him some zoom capability.

Once we verified that the area was secured we got back on mission making it highway 12 and starting our long trek north. Will spent his time scanning for any available target of opportunity. I was sure that he was just itching to shoot something after seeing Warfalcon draw first blood that way.

The trip up to Gasan Kul was uneventful as expected. Throughout the trip Falcon would talk about some of the new features. In retrospect I have to say it was probably one of the only reasons we didn’t go insane from the boredom but that was something that was about to be interrupted.

As we neared the town Bird put out her first contact calls and Falcon’s weapon came to life again throwing death out ahead of us with almost surgical precision. Will and I broke left to swing around the west side of town to cut off one avenue of the enemies ability to flank. I almost forgot that I had Will reload HEAT rounds when our main gun roared to life. I watched as an entire patrol was wiped out in one well placed round. I then heard Will switch to his .50 cal and in the distance I could hear the explosions of the 40mm rounds exploding through out town. After making several trips around and through town we found that we had quickly neutralized the opposition.

After quickly firing off a contact report back to headquarters we moved out again. Making the long trip to the town of Batroun. Warfalcon’s recent return from training on the MK19 was paying off in spades. He was showing surprising marksmanship with the new weapon platform. I made a mental note to buy those CSHAG boys a round for the time the put into helping him become acquainted with it.

Once we reached Batroun we swung SE heading across country to our next highway. Our next regroup point was the town of Miziara. The trip here was uneventful which was starting to seem odd. For a place that had seen so much fighting in the past few weeks were was everyone? I could tell this was starting to wear on the crew of both vehicles by the tone of their responses. As we sat there, engines shut off talking about our plan of attack bird heard it first.

â€What’s that sound to SE?†She asked.

I listened a bit closer and it hit me like a ton of bricks.

“They have a Hind airborne!â€

Hatches were quickly closed as a I called out to HQ for a barrage of smoke to hide our approach. The smoke would likely do little to hide our approach as it was more likely to the enemy an exact location to look. I was banking on the hope that the gunner in the helo wouldn’t be totally up to snuff and that the smoke might buy us sometime. Both vehicles roared to life as we moved off to our next objective. I didn’t even have to tell Will he had already reloaded his first Sabot round and once we were moving I heard him report.

â€Loaded for Sabotâ€.

Will was now scanning furiously. But not at ground level this time. He was looking for our friend in the air. A quick look as the ‘Lav told me that Falcon was doing that and scanning for ground targets. We could hear him out over the water to our east and I know that we all hoped that somehow he would stay there though we all knew better.

“Target Hind 12 o’clock on the tarmac†I called out.

Even while I was still talking Will already had his turret moving that direction. The turret rested for a second as will acquired his target and let his first Sabot fly. The round impacted perfectly against the side of the aircraft completely destroying it.

“Frog 11 o’clockâ€

Will rotated his turret back to the left and as his sights came to rest on the airplane he squeezed the trigger sending another smoothbore round home to it’s target. Off to my right I heard the MK19 come to life as Falcon started engaging ground targets. That’s when our friend made his presence known.

He said hello by sending a rocket into the side of the ‘Lav sending it out of momentary control on it’s right side wheels. I expected the worst as I watched in horror as pieces of the new armour flew through the air and smoke poured from the vehicle.

“Get that *****!!†I hissed at Will.

Already thinking the same thing Will spun his turret 180 degrees and elevating it 40.

â€GOT HIM!!†Will said as he depressed the trigger once again. The tank lurched forward as the round left the barrel on it’s own high speed destiny with the Hind. The pilot probably only had enough time to soil himself as he saw the smoke come from the barrel. The round struck home right in the cockpit sending pieces of aircraft everywhere in the resulting explosion.

What amazed me even more was to see the ASLAV come back down and back to a sense of control that could only mean one thing. “We’re alright†Warbird reported. The armour had done it’s job but what’s more it exceeded specifications. I was so amazed what I was looking at that I never even saw the Tech but I felt and heard the sound of crunching metal as I ran over it. I swung back toward the airbase only to see another technical emerge from between the hangers.

I don’t know who actually killed at both 40mm rounds and a Sabot round hit it at the sametime. Falcon swung around to his right and started engaging more ground troops. I could hear Will swearing in the gunner’s compartment and what I didn’t know is there was a problem that occurred while trying to load more HEAT rounds. Will blurted out, “There’s RPG soldiers 9 o’clockâ€

I looked in horror as I saw 4 of them all taking aim at the ASLAV. I called out over the comms circuit trying to warn Warbird as I hit the gas trying to close the distance on them. Bird saw them too late as they let their RPG’s fly. Three of the four found their mark and the ASLAV exploded instantly. I could feel the blood leaving my knuckles as my hands squeezed tighter and tighter around the controls of the 100 ton behemoth. I felt no more pity or sorrow for the ones I crushed than they did for killing my team mates.

The comm frequency from HQ came to life with new orders for us. We were to proceed south to the town of Damoh as a predator drone that had been sent to the area had been shot down. But not before sending back pictures of a Mechanized Division in town. Included in this division was what appeared to be at least 3 T-80 MBT’s. A fire mission had already been called for and artillery rounds would be reigning down on town in less than 60 seconds as they battlefield was prepped for our arrival.

I swung the tank back south forcing the images I just had into the back of my mind. Such thoughts would only cloud my judgement at this point and I needed to have a clear head. I could hear the distant sounds of what sounded like thunder but I knew better. Rounds were on their way out and would be finding their home quickly.

We approached the town from the east side and quickly found our first two targets.

â€Shilka 1 o’clock†I called out.

Will turned the turret as we moved forward and fired destroying the AA piece instantly.

â€T-55 11 o’clock†Again Will fired true sending another tank to the scrap pile. We were cutting tanks down literally left and right as we proceeded south. Will was like a man on a mission. Each round fired found it’s mark As we rounded the southern side of town that’s when we saw them. The first of three sat at an intersection facing south. His shot went hit but not Will’s. It slammed home just underneath the turret. The T-80 was shoved back into a building and was now stuck. I quickly backed us up to give Will time to reload. He quickly did so and to our surprise when we pulled back out there was another T-80 trying to pull his buddy out of his jam.

Will fired without hesitation striking the first T-80 again. This time it came apart at the seems as the explosion was fuelled by not only Will’s Sabot round but also the tanks own ammunition and fuel. These secondaries caused collateral damage to the second T-80. As I sat there watching the conflagration at the end of the street Will reloaded another round and fired at the second tank. The resulting explosion brought down the buildings around it burying both tanks under 8ft of rubble.

I quickly moved us out of the area lest we became a target ourselves. “T-55 3 o’clock†I called out. Will sent another round out and sent another tank up in a ball of flame. The town was getting hard to see now with all the smoke in the area. I moved us up slowly. I knew there was another T-80 out there and no doubt he would be looking for revenge. We came across him on a little secondary street. His problem was two-fold. The street was too narrow to manoeuvre and he was facing the wrong way. Will’s first shot went wild for some reason and I could hear Will swearing behind me. He must have been really mad too because I heard everything he was saying. His second round slammed home on the back of the tank. Unfortunately there was nothing the driver could do. His commander had put them in a bad spot and they were going to pay for it. Will’s third round left the barrel as the T-80 was moving forward in an ill-fated attempt to get away.

â€Too little, too late†I thought to myself.

Will saw it before I did. A shilka was parked in the park to our left and it’s turret was coming to bare on us. Will beat him to the punch as the Shilka’s turret went flying through the air. I heard will snicker over comms as he said in his heavy Australian accent….. “Ummmm…….. I think we’ve sturred up a bloody hornet’s nest hereâ€.

We both burst out laughing. A quick run through town, the parts we could get through, revealed that it seemed to be secure but we would leave that up to the ground troops to confirm. I sent out a quick contact report before heading back to the enemy airbase to pick up our fallen team mates. We may have lost two of our own but the enemy paid a heavy price for it.

Stout Hearts

|RE|Warhawk

Edited September 1, 2005 by warhawk