"Alright Marines, listen up. This is our first push into downtown Baghdad since Al Qaeda took the forward command post from us, we're expecting heavily armed resistance from the enemy. We are the first to be heading into the city, we must eliminate all hostile forces and establish a CP. We will hold out till 2200 hours, that's when the Army will be rolling in. Several other Marine divisions will be striking to our far left and right flank. This battle is going to be big, and I want none of you underestimating the situation. Command is telling us possible medium armor and light armor will be present in the area due west and northwest of positions Tom and Jerry, but nothing we Marines cant handle, Oorah?"
"Oorah!" The rest of the Marines yelled.
Everyone got up from the brief room and began to head out and suit up. The projector that showed the map of the operation zone went blank then shut off with a click. Corporal Jacob Kebler approached the mission instructor.
"Lieutenant, what about the British?" He questioned.
"They have set up a sniper team on the higher roof tops to counter any enemy snipers or RPGs. They'll cover us so we can worry about what's on the ground rather than what's above our heads." The Lieutenant replied.
He then turned toward the tent's exit and walked out of the room over to the barracks. Sand blew left and right as far as the eye can see, the brown granulated nightmare whipped the olive drab tents of the base, the prominent red cross of the emergency medical tent was hardly visible. The pelting sand sounded with ferocity, Marines had to yell to one another to communicate. The blue sky radiated in sharp contrast to the brown fog. The Lieutenant entered the barracks and went to the locker side, finishing preparation of his equipment for the mission.
"I'm glad you have the cojones to bleed in the trenches with your men, LT." Sergeant Kelly Gonzalez said proudly as she looked up from tying her boot "I'd hate to see a desk with the name plate 'Lieutenant Jason Walker' on it. Besides we need you out here."
Lieutenant Walker looked at her with a smirk "glad to be here, sitting on my ass doing nothing while Marines die by my orders didn't sound too appealing when I got the promotion."
Gonzalez smiled and continued adjusting her boots.
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Marines from panel to panel of the barracks where cleaning their guns and loading their clips, medics stocking their kits with bandages and Quik Clot. Marines ready for the mission waited in the mess while a few stood around the ICVs and M1A2 Abrams tanks, a total of six tanks made up the tank column and three ICVs. No one bothered to use the Humvee's, the people in command saw this mission as a "high profile" target for the insurgents, believing every ultra national extremist from Beirut to Ankara would want to do everything in their power to stop the Marine Corps from re-taking Baghdad. The steel monsters parked idly in the wind and sand, unaffected by the abrasive particulate. A sense of pride emitted from the ominous armored column, as well as a great deal of respect. In combat they were viewed as a 'big brother' to the men on the ground, pounding out of reach or tough enemy fortifications and decimating their ranks. If something was too hard to get through with men, the men looked to the tanks.
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The sandstorm began to die down as the Marines congregated around the armored vehicles. Lieutenant Walker climbed into the ICV and spoke on the radio,
"Marines, here we go on another mission same as before, finish the objective, stick together, work together, and everyone comes home. Let's do this Devildogs!"
The platoon roared as the engines of the colossal metal beasts came to life. Men poured into the vehicles with efficient intervals. As the last man entered the vehicles they locked the door behind them. The armored column drove off into the desert toward Baghdad. Mighty sand plumes drifted off to the right of the caravan as the tires and treads kicked up dirt and sand. There was little to nothing to look at on the way, a few rocks here and there and some husks of Iraqi tanks from the Gulf war, the city of Baghdad lay off in the distance, a grey bar of buildings along the horizon. It seemed peaceful now, but once they hit the redzone that's where all earlier assumptions end. A lulling sound echoed in the thick haul of the ICV, almost relaxing if it weren't for the bumps in the road every now and then. Marines sat next to each other, a few talked, others prayed, and some stared blankly in front of them. As for the Lieutenant, he looked among his men, studying their behavior.
"Hey LT. After this I get to go home. I'll make sure to send you some of my mom's pie when I get back." Corporal Kebler stated.
"What day is that?" Walker asked, disregarding the later sentence.
"July seventeenth sir."
Noticing that it was July thirteenth today Walker sighed, now the brains of this platoon was about to head back to the states.
"Going to follow Calioni home, huh? Say 'hi' to him for us." Walker joked.
"Yeah right. . . He's an ass." The Corporal remarked. Several Marines in the vehicle chuckled.
"Yeah, well. Not as much as you are when your up in someone's face about 'protons' or 'chemical substances'." An African American Marine blurted out.
"Shut up Stones. It's usually about more relevant things. Such as symbiotic relationships." Jacobs muttered.
"Like my fist in your face?" Stones kidded, rubbing his fist with his other hand.
"Alright you two, knock it off. Save all your anger for the mission." With a grin, the Lieutenant intervened. The ICV grew quite again, Stones slightly kicked Jacobs' boot, then he did the same. ---------------------------
"This is GhostShadow, I repeat this is GhostShadow over." A British man spoke through the radio.
Lieutenant Walker quickly put his two fingers to his ear piece.
"We read you loud and clear Ghostshadow."
"Copy that, you must be the Lieutenant I reckon, the yank marines right?"
"Yes that would be us GhostShadow, what's your status? Over."
"We are ready and in position."
"Roger that, stand by for orders."
Walker lowered his hand back onto his rifle. The armored column reached the city's outskirts and headed deeper into the concrete jungle, citizens of Baghdad came out of their houses to watch the vehicles go by, some Iraqis where less than happy and others smiled, the faces of war-ravaged innocents zoomed by over and over. Various market places pasted, their patrons gave the military vehicles a wide berth. Several minutes of riding through the city passed, no resistence for now. Walker lifted his hand up to the comm system.
"GhostShadow do you read?"
"Yes we're hear you mate."
"We have entered the city and are about 4 clicks north of downtown Baghdad, over."
"alright, we see you now, don't worry about RPGs we got your arse up here"
"Roger that, over."
The Lieutenant addresses his platoon via radio message.
"Split up into three fire teams, Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie. Alpha go and assault point Jerry from the east flank, Bravo move from Tom's northeast, finally, Charlie your with me and hit point Tom from the north, two Abrams for each fireteam. After we finish Tom we move in from the north down to help Alpha on Jerry. Keep your eyes up, watch for silhouettes on the top floors. Oorah!"
Various calls came from the radio confirming the battle strategy, all vehicles drove off into each respective coordinates. It was still quite around the perimeter of the objectives, nobody saying much and no hostile activity.