Today is the 4th of July, Independence Day in the United States. This is a tribute, through Eagle's eyes, at how costly freedom can be.
I groaned, cursing whoever invented jetlag, bullets, and pain. If you were to ask me where I am at the moment, I would normally say, "classified." And while that holds true nine times out of ten, this is the odd one out. I am currently on a Chinook helicopter, along with the rest of my unit, circling above Camp Dwyer in the Helmand Province, Afghanistan. We've been in the air for a couple of hours now, having finished an intelligence-gathering mission in the border between Pakistan and Afghanistan. I'm brooding like a hung-over teenager because it turns out that there was no intelligence left to gather, seeing that the bloody al Qaeda operative we were tailing had been killed by indirect fire by the Taliban. Bloody hell.
"Hey, Eagle," said Wolf, our team leader. "What'cha thinking about?"
"Nothing," I replied, flexing my arms and stretching my sore legs. "Just that this whole mission was a waste of time…" Wolf groaned in agreement, and he too stretched his tired limbs.
"Well," offered Snake, our corpsman. "It could have been much worse, right?" I snorted…There goes Snake, always the optimist.
"In what way?" asked Fox irritably. Fox is our linguist and culture specialist, and he is rather annoyed that his skills were not needed in this mission. "I could have spent the past week in my flat, eating takeout and watching Deadliest Warrior re-runs…"
We all laughed, glad that we could find humor in Fox's gloomy home life. Snake, however, was not too amused.
"What I mean," he said seriously, "is that no one was killed. Unless you count that idiot of that al Qaeda operative. But then again…he shouldn't have stuck his face into incoming MG rounds." We all agreed that that was a bad idea, and the rest of the journey was quiet.
Finally, twenty minutes later, we touched down in a makeshift helipad in the middle of the camp. My first impression of the American camp as I walked out of the Chinook was one of annoyance at the snobbish Americans playing baseball. Here they were, probably basically trained soldiers, playing a game whilst SAS forces everywhere were risking their lives for the sake of the world.
"Bloody Americans," Wolf mumbled, as if reading my thoughts. "Haven't they got anything better to do than play stupid games?"
"I know," offered Fox, as he rubbed his eyes. "Why don't we just find a place to kip for the night?"
"Well, it seems that we can give that to you," said an unknown voice behind us. We whirled around to see a well-built, muscular Marine leaning on our Chinook. As one, we realized that this man was a Master Chief, and therefore a much higher rank than us. As one, we saluted the man, forgetting the fact that we are from different Armed Forces. "At ease, men," he said, after returning the salute. We put our hands down, and stood relaxed at parade rest.
"Welcome to Camp Dwyer," said the man; "I'm Chief Tanner. And you are?"
"Wolf."
"Snake."
"Fox."
"Eagle," I finished. "We're from the SAS. Can you guys spare a few bunks, just for tonight?"
Tanner looked apprehensive, but then nodded. "Most of this camp is going out tonight, so you can sleep in their barracks. They're those over there," he finished, pointing towards a shabby-looking building about twenty yards from our position. "If you can show yourselves to the barracks, I really need to be going. Have a good night." And then Tanner left, leaving us slightly bemused.
"O-kay," said Fox, as they began to walk to the barracks in question. "That guy was…odd."
"I agree," said Wolf. We reached the door of the barracks, and let ourselves in. We were surprised when we saw about twenty Marines in various stages of boredom.
"Um…" said the one on the bunk closest to us. "Can I help you?"
"We're bunking here for the night," said Wolf frostily. "Who are you?"
"My name's Nick Garner," supplied the person who had questioned us. He stood up and shook hands with Wolf. "This is Alpha Company, United States Marine Corps." He pointed to the room filled with soldiers, signaling that they all belonged together. "And looks like you picked a good day for a night at Camp Dwyer. We're going out tonight to the Helmand Province for some Haji-hunting tonight, so you can take our bunks. Isn't that right Marines?" he finished with a shout.
"OORAH!" was the general outcry. K-Unit and I glanced at each other in amusement, wondering why they would have such a ridiculous tradition.
"Right…so we'll just put our rucks down here, if you don't mind," said Wolf, not waiting for an answer. On his cue, we set down our heavy packs on the ground, and sat on the four closest, deserted bunks. "So…at what time do you l-"
Wolf´s question was interrupted by the camp´s intercom ordering all of Alpha Company to the helipad. The Marines ran out of the barracks, lugging their packs and weapons with them. In five minutes, we were alone in the room.
"Wow," said Snake, breaking the silence. "They're quite a bunch of characters, aren't they?"
"Mhm," supplied Fox sleepily. "Seeing that it is twenty-hundred hours, and we haven't slept in a four days, I'm going to pass out now. Good night." And he did, closely followed by Wolf, Snake, and finally I succumbed to the welcoming arms of exhaustion.
At about three-hundred hours, I was rudely woken by the thundering of rotor blades.
"What the hell…" I mumbled, stumbling out of the bunk. The rest of K-Unit was already walking out of the barracks, wondering why the hell there was a whole company of Chinooks landing at such an ungodly hour.
"What´s going on, Chief?" asked Wolf, as they reached the helipad. "Why are they back so soon?"
Tanner's gaze was strained and grave, and his words as well. "Alpha Company was ambushed two hours after insertion. We've just now managed to extract them." I felt my stomach swoop, and met Wolf's serious eyes.
"Is there anything we can do?" asked Fox, eyeing the landing Chinooks with apprehension.
"Yes. Get ready to see a lot of blood." Tanner said, as he and the rest of the camp's staff sprinted to the helicopters. The ramps were opening, resulting in blood spilling out onto the cool desert sand.
"Oh my God," whispered Snake. I glanced at him, and was not surprised to see that his face was now white. I'm sure mine was as well. Out of the Chinooks stumbled injured soldiers, and body bags. Many, many body bags. As we watched in mutual horror, the seriously injured were airlifted out of the Chinooks, after having their bays doused in water, to wash out the blood.
We returned to our bunks, to await the rest of Alpha Company. They never came.
Twenty soldiers gave their lives, their limbs, and their freedom. From the days of Washington, to the days that are to come, they have defended our the freedom of their families.
This fact was not lost upon the British men, as they left the somber camp. Fifteen pairs of boots were arranged in a neat line, along with fifteen dog tags, fifteen rifles, and fifteen portraits of the fallen soldiers.
K-Unit was humbled, and me included. As I looked down upon the camp, yet again in a Chinook which stank of blood and brain matter, I realized that it doesn't matter from what country you are. Rank doesn't matter, training doesn't matter, and medals don't matter. We all signed up to protect the freedom of our families back home, whether it be the US or the UK. And these young men have paid the ultimate price, and will continue to pay it.
Semper fi.
I would like to request for something other than reviews. While I am not thrilled as to how this story turned out, its quality is not what I was worried about. I want you all to think about the young men and women who have given their lives and their liberty to preserve ours. I would also like to have a moment of silence, and pray (if you want) for the families of those fallen warriors. You are all in my prayers, as I conclude this story at 11:58pm in Colombia. Happy independence day, and thank you for your service.