Hard Head by patricia51
(An injured Sergeant Nantz reflects on the last couple of days.)
(Notes: VOCG = Verbal Order of Commanding General. An action to be taken NOW with the paperwork to catch up when it could be done. Eight and Eye (Eight and I streets) is the site of the Marine Barracks, Washington DC, the official residence of the Commandant of the Marine Corps and is used traditionally as a synonym for Marine Headquarters.)
Just before the darkness claimed him Michael Nantz thought he should have known it. It was just the way his luck ran. He had survived everything that the aliens had thrown at him; from the moment they had first stormed ashore in LA to the last stand the remnants of the invaders mounted when they were backed into a final corner. They had been cut down to a, well, not man, to a creature he supposed. After the lack of mercy they had shown to the people of LA the Marines and soldiers had been anything but inclined to extend the rules of warfare to the invaders.
And after the events of the day up till then what else could he expect but more shocks and more surprises. After all, what he had already experienced today was beyond anything he could have ever imagined. He had his retirement postponed to meet and fight alien invaders. His confrontation with Jason Lockett had finally allowed him to make peace with the loss of his squad in Iraq. And most amazing of all, after a life of being alone he had met a woman that had moved something inside him he thought would never be touched. A woman whose last name he didn't even know and whom he had known for only a few hours.
The surprises didn't stop once they were back on the ground in LA. At the Landing Zone they had been met by the senior Marine officer on the West Coast. After he had shaken their hands he had said he had an announcement.
"Due to the confused state of affairs many normal policies are being suspended. Obviously Sergeant Nantz you are well aware that all retirements have been cancelled. So have discharges. All reservists and National Guards have been federalized and activated. But also promotion boards and other review boards are being suspended. A revised policy gives authority to commanders in the field for actions once centralized at Eighth and Eye. Therefore, VOCG to be made official when time permits, I am promoting you from Staff Sergeant to Gunnery Sergeant." The crusty general smiled as Nantz's team cheered. "I am also awarding you the Navy Cross. And the rest of your Marines are being cited for the Silver Star. That includes you Technical Sergeant Santos. I'm sure the Air Force won't object."
As proud as he was of his promotion and award it was as nothing compared to the warmth he felt about the sincere congratulations from his team members. It had been a long lonely time for him but now he basked once more in comradeship and the truth of the words attributed to Henry the Fifth.
It was shortly after that when they lost Santos. Fortunately the feisty Tech Sergeant wasn't lost to hostile action. That is unless you considered the Air Force hostile. A group of electronic techs had recognized her and dragged her into their group to help with intelligence surveillance. Though she was reluctant to leave the people she had shared so much with so quickly he had convinced her that her expertise was needed elsewhere.
Before they moved out he saw Santos throw back her head and laugh. Turning, she trotted over to them, still chuckling.
"Whatever it is tell us," said Lockett. "We can use a good laugh."
"Just got word from Seattle. When it was figured out that the invaders were homing in on radio transmission the forces up there spoofed them. They attached remote control radios to balloons and released them using the sea winds to blow them towards where electronic emissions showed the command and control center was. When the enemy committed its drones to destroy the attackers a group of AH-64 Apache attack helicopters flying nap of the earth from the other direction struck; bombarding the control center with a rain of TOW and Hellfire missiles."
Nantz nodded. "It appears that the aliens have been planning this for a long time. But they seem rigid. Perhaps no one ever told them of the old axiom 'No plan survives contact with the enemy'."
"That's what we got from higher up," the Air Force Sergeant agreed. "Their battle plan seems inflexible. One of the colonels mentioned that they depend too much on us doing how they planned we would react. It went great at first but they don't seem to be able to handle improvised or off-the-wall actions." With that Santos had waved a cheery goodbye and rejoined her fellow techs.
Inflexible or not the enemy put up a fierce resistance. But now they were on the defensive. Reports continued to come in of one coastal city after another where human forces had gained the upper hand and were driving the invaders back to the sea. By evening of the third day the American troops had splintered the enemy into isolated pockets and were mopping them up one by one.
The platoon he was leading now, the few originals plus reinforcements from other units that had suffered as badly as they had and been broken up, had been probing an area reported to be infested with a few last hold-outs. Probing cautiously. There was a time for headlong charges, like the one that had got them to the evacuation zone, but this wasn't one of those times. They had been using short rushes from one covered position to another. It just happened that he looked up just in time to see an alien on a rooftop aiming its weapon down at the middle of the platoon.
Long ago in Iraq there it had been an ambusher with an RPG. Then he had been too late and the explosion had taken the lives of the men he was responsible for. This time he wouldn't be late. He had shouted a warning and fired while leaping into the open to draw the creature's attention. He walked his fire into the vulnerable spot and once more blessed Michele for have the courage to dissect the alien corpse to find its weak spot.
The creature staggered. Nantz continued to fire, driving it back with 5.56 millimeter hits. Its weapon pointed aimlessly the alien continued to fire even as it toppled off its perch. He nodded. That was what he would have done in its position, gone down fighting to the end.
The shout from the side made him look up. He ducked. The falling concrete blocks from the nearby building bombarded him. One hit his shoulder and his weapon fell from a numb hand. Then his helmet took one, then two and finally a third wallop and he went to his knees. Only vaguely did he hear the cries of alarm as the platoon members rushed to his side. Hands caught him as he fell.
"Hang in there Gunny," his first squad leader, now Sergeant Jason Lockett directed. The young NCO snapped out orders. "You three, secure the area. You two, rig a litter. Radio, find us an evac site and get a dust-off in here. The rest of you watch out. This fight isn't over yet. Stay sharp."
Nantz wanted to smile. If he was down Locket had grown up and become a first class Marine capable of taking charge. He wanted to tell the young man how proud he was of him. But the dark haze dragged him down even as he felt the stretcher bearers lift him and start to move him. He didn't want to leave his Marines, he didn't want to leave the fight but this time he had no choice as he lost consciousness.
But it was all worth it. When he awoke he was back at the FOB. And Michele was holding his hand. He smiled up at her.
"Hey."
"Hey," she replied and leaned over to brush her lips over his forehead.
Damn. Who said even worn out old sergeants don't have it all turn out right sometimes?
(The End)
(By the way, yes, the title of this is a bit of a play on the affectionate insult other branches make of calling Marines "Jar Heads".)
(And, should anyone not instantly recognize the words Nantz was thinking of from Henry the V; here they are once again in their immortal glory.
"We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day."
You can find the entire speech By Kenneth Branagh in his production of Shakespeare's play on You Tube; I promise it will give you goose bumps.)