Waste
The transfer into Bravo was easier than I originally thought. A few stacks of paperwork for my ex-C.O., a wave goodbye to the old platoon, and a quick ride into the city of Vinh. I'm starting to think the C.O.s are getting use to my flaky attitude. I've transferred into a grand total of five different companies. Each time I left the reasons weren't exactly the most kosher. The first transfer was due to the fact that the boots provided to me weren't exactly military grade, all i had to do was fake a foot injury and i was sent to a low combat station. This was a running theme for the next several transfers until Bravo. Most likely there was a mix-up at the C.P. and I was sent to the front lines while some pencil pushing bastard was sent to live in luxury back at battalion headquarters. The first few days at the line were strangely... enjoyable. If the whole war was fought like this i wouldn't have minded being shipped out here. After four days on the line i was quietly passing through the daily motions trying to ride out this war as event free as possible, but of course nothing ever turns my way. During the daily patrol near the capital city of this god-forsaken country, an entire platoon of enemy soldiers sprang out of the underground tunnel system. Christ, the gunfire and the bodies. I mean, jesus we just stumbled blindly into it. We pulled back into a small trench that provided enough cover for the small patrol, but it didn't stop the pure frustration and sadness. Contrary to what you see on television or in movies there's very little yelling during a firefight. The C.O. gives orders and we carry them out in the way were told. We shut up, we stay down, and we fight back. That's where I took the first and only bullet of my entire combat experience. I barely felt it. The bullet ripped through my shoulder, but I just kept running. When the handful of men remaining were able to fall back to C.P. I was able to feel the pain ebbing through my body and as soon as I was cleared by a medic, I sent in my request for a transfer. This was the last request and the only one with a valid excuse. The only one, that i felt guilty about.