"Every war is different, every war is the same"-Anthony Swofford, USMC Scout Sniper,1991.
"...And what about you"
I hate these things, they think they know. But they don't no a god Damn thing.
"Would you like to talk about you service"?
...No, not yet" you say blandly, you have been attending this support group for weeks, and for weeks you have just sat and heard others tell their storys you have sat in silence every class.
"Hey, why don't you ever tell us about your tour"? one of the other soldiers asks you.
"He doesn't have to if he doesn't want to-
"Fine" you say, maybe this could help.
"It's hot. Hot as hell and then some, we were told to recon an oil field...
1991, Middle east.
"...Breaking rocks in the hot sun! I fought the law! and the law won"! the radio screamed as your Humvee moved over the hot sands under foot.
Your siting in the seat next to the driver, watching the endless desert pass you by. You joined the Corps to fight, not to sit on your ass for weeks in this god forsaken litter box.
"Operation Desert Storm. Sure" he say to your self, so far you haven't even fired a shot for the past two days, all your unit has done is marched, and marched and dug fighting holes, oh yes becasue a hole will keep a laser from killing you.
"what the hell is a Desert storm anyway" Jones say, as if reading your mind.
"It's like a sand storm i think, you know how the boys in intel love to give these things such creative names" he say back in a mocking voice.
"This is stupid, why would they be in and oil field anyway"? evens asked, his blonde hair falling out of his helment into his face.
"Something about the Neuroi having a thing for oil, they eat it or something, all i know is our orders are to recon the place"
"Lets no and say we did, save us the trip"
"Jones, can that shit, i don't like this anymore then you, but orders are orders" you tell him as two witches in A-10 Strikers soar overhead.
"See, the Airforce gets to have all the fun in this war, damn hawk's"
"WAR, ya what is it good for"! the radio speaks starting a new song.
"Oh for the love of god, shut that shit off or i will" Clark, your gunner yells from the .50 mounted on the roof. In the distance explosion's sound, the airforce most be having a ball.
"Tango 1, this is stomper 2 actual, were less then a click from target, over" you say ito your radio.
"Roger that ground stomper, keep us updated, Tango 1 out". you put the radio down and wipe the sweat from you forehead, it's hotter then hell in this country, if you had any idea what country this was, your rather close to the border and even through the media is talking about these new GPS unit's so our brave troops won't get lost, you so far haven't seen one, guess their to good to just waste on grunts.
You can see the shape of the oil rigs in the distance, as you get closer you spot a large shape siting among them, The Neuroi gun is firing over your heads, it most be meant for longer ranges then this.
"What the hell is that"? you say as the thing turns, it's sporting a massive cannon.
"Incoming"!
the thing fires of a blase sending your Humvee flying to avoid this attack.
"Eat this"! Clark yells, firing the .50 at the thing. we bail out and hide behind a oil well,laser's flying by our heads.
"Were pinned, hand me the radio Jones" you yell at the man, handing you the device.
"This is ground stomper 2 Actual, we are under fire, we need air cover asap" you yell into the mic.
"Roger Stomper, air support inbound, ETA 10 mics"
"Ten minutes? Were not gonna last ten seconds fighting that thing"
"Like i said, can that shit and return fire"! You yell again.
"Get that .50 going, cover us" you begin shouting out orders at your men, under the cover you spread out and find cover. Loading a round into your M16A2's under mounted Grenade Launcher, you fire, sending it towards the beast, as it strikes it, the thing cries out in angish over it's wound.
"Good shot" Clark yells at your from the .50 on the Humvee, and that's the last thing he says as a blast blows the thing up, killing him with it.
"CLARK'!
"Were gonna die"
"Jone's, shut the hell up and get you ass down" You yell at him, the man is going crazy.
You hear a low roar, two A-10 anti tank witches are soaring towards you. Poping a smoke grenade you make the enemy gun, the red smoke plooms up into the sky past the setting sun as the witches drop two tank busters with a loud roar.
"Yes. suck it" Jones yells, in the air the A-10s turn, maybr for a wing wangle? They line up with you perfectly and...shit"
"Get down" you shout throwing yourself to the ground as hunndreds of anti tank bullets wiz by you.
"Mother fucker" you yell out as they fly over head.
As they soar off your pissed, the god damn airforce almost killed you.
As you both stand, an oil well behind you blows open, sending oil into the air and raining on you.
"This day is fucking...
And then the oil catches fire.
You jump under the wrecked Hmmvee, but jone's didn't make it in time...
...
"I want to think he died peacefully, with honor, but the screaming i heard over the next hour and a half tell's me death came slowly and painfully for him" you say finishing your story.
"Jesus" someone in the group says.
"Well...it's good you got some off that out" the women running the group adds.
You stand up.
"where are you going"?
"anywhere but here" you say walking away...
End of Part one.
Yes, this is heavy but it's real, this is the kind of...shit that war can do to people.
also i started a few cross overs with two of my favorite video games and Strike Witches, so check those out if you can.