Chapter 2: War Never Changes
The hot sun beat down on the roof of the Humvee, a young man fidgeting behind the wheel before releasing an aggravated sigh. "This is bullshit."
Vaughn laughed and peered at his companion over his sunglasses from the passenger side seat. "You know that they never give us equipment that works. Think of us as America's pit bulls. Mistreated and beat down until they let us out of the cage every once and a while when they need us to attack something."
Steam billowed from one of the vehicles near the front of the convoy, the bumpy road seeming to stretch on for miles along with the endless dunes of sand dotted with shrubs and bushes.
"This is bullshit."
"Calm down Espinoza, we'll get to the FOB soon enough." Michael laughed as he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, the M-16 resting casually on his lap. Sweat beaded and rolled down the sides of his face where his helmet was currently keeping the heat from escaping. 'I'd give anything for a breeze!'
"At least you're not sitting in the back with no windows, Taco."
"That's racist, white boy." The man in the backseat laughed, his Spanish friend hitting the steering wheel with a tempo that only he could hear.
Vaughn couldn't help but smile at the banter between the soldiers he'd been teamed up with, this car and the one following behind it making up the Alpha Recon Unit. Peeking into the side mirror he spotted Gunny standing through the hole in the top of the armored vehicle, the .50 Caliber machine gun turned to the side as he tried to escape the sweltering heat being trapped in the vehicle. Michael vaguely remembered that their windows weren't working, the two available ones stuck half-way down - or half-way up depending on how hot the day was. Today, they were definitely stuck half-way up.
An hour passed before the convoy began moving, the warm wind better than stagnant hot air, and soon they rolled up to a monitored chain link fence. Passing through they reached the forward operating base, Delta and Charlie having arrived a day earlier. The campsite here was more of a medic field station than a base of operations. Marines were milling about, some doing work and others goofing off. A game of football was currently taking place adjacent to the large circus-like housing tents, the far eastern side coned and roped off as a temporary landing pad for two still black hawk helicopters and a similarly sized medical chopper. Directly next to that was a huge hospital tent, the flaps wide to let in the slightest breeze while showing off the empty cots.
Filing out of the vehicles and stretching, their weapons hanging around their waists, the sounds of camp wafted around them. It was a stark contrast to the sounds of droning Humvees and wind-whipped sand.
"I can't wait to get out of this shit, man," Espinoza groaned as his back popped, Vaughn agreeing as an older man walked over to their group.
"You Alpha?"
"Yes, sir. Alpha here and Bravo bringing up the rear."
"You're late. Get together with Bravo and meet in the command tent in ten minutes."
"Yes, sir."
"C-ya, Vaughn." Faster than he thought they could move his men were out of the cars and picking bunks in the tents, leaving him and the Bravo team leaders to figure out their mission.
Peeling off his tactical vest, the shirt below it soaked with sweat, he stripped that one off as well and tossed both articles along with his helmet back into the front seat of the Humvee. The black tight t-shirt would have to be formal enough.
"Now that Alpha and Bravo have joined us let's get down to the brass tacks."
'Spoken like a true commander,' Michael grinned, he and the leads of the four recon teams standing in the back while the Lieutenants, Commanders, and any of the other higher staff sat around a large recently constructed plywood table.
"Army Rangers are ready to head into the town of Shaykh, north of Baghdad. They're making their way out of the capitol city and trying to kick some of these Taliban bastards out of the outliers. You might be asking yourselves 'what would the U.S. Army Rangers need with us lowly Marines', right?"
"Hoo-ah, sir," several soldiers called out as they relaxed in their seats, the Commander folding his arms behind him and beginning to pace slowly at the front of the room.
"They need us to make sure that the town of Shaykh is worth their time - which apparently means they want us to waste our time in checking it out for them so we're on recon. Which is what we do best. This will be a month-long survey conducted by all four squads, Alpha through Delta. The drive to Shaykh is about 12 clicks south of camp. Rounds begin tomorrow with Alpha and Bravo seeing as they were late to the party."
"Yes, sir." Vaughn and Sergeant Major Hammer spoke simultaneously.
The meeting was short and they were sent packing, ordered to get their Humvees ready for the trip and load up with weapons, water, and food. The recon rotations were every four days, so they only assistance they'd get was from medivac if it was needed.
Exiting the tent they all seemed to go in separate directions, Michael heading straight to the tent where the mail came in. He was pleasantly surprised to find a letter waiting for him from his mother, tucking it into his pocket to read later after he set up his bunk.
The tent marked Devil Dogs in felt-tipped marker made him laugh as he stepped into the surprisingly cool interior where his men were lounging about getting their things sorted out.
"Hey, Sarge-Mage, when we gettin' some action?" The name embroidered into his button-up camouflage shirt was Corporal Steinbauer, his wide black-rimmed glasses sitting high on his nose as he looked up at Vaughn with curious and excited eyes.
"Sooner than you think. We're heading out to monitor Shaykh tomorrow for a four-day recon op with Bravo."
"Shit, man, we just got here!"
"What did you think you were gonna do on a second tour, Taco? A little R & R?" Sergeant Jones shot out as he unpacked his bag despite knowing full-well that he'd be repacking it for the four-day recon operation.
Throwing a boot across the bunks Vaughn caught it and knocked it to the floor, "now, now children, don't make me separate you. I'll put your ass in the Humvee with broken windows."
"No shit man, can we get that shit fixed before tomorrow?" Gunny growled as he walked in with a towel around his waist as water dripped off his muscled chest.
Six pairs of eyes rolled as Corporal Espinoza, which everyone had taken to calling Taco, laughed sarcastically. "Yeah, why don't you take it down to the local mechanic - maybe they'll give you a sweet deal. You could get some hot-ass rims while you're there."
Sighing and discarding his undershirt Michael pulled the krinkled letter from his pocket and flopped down on his bunk.
"Oooh, who's the letter from Sarge-Mage?"
"I'll bet it's a hot girlfriend. If there's any pics and you find them missing, they're under Gunny's pillow." Espinoza laughed, stripping his clothes off and walking from the tent naked, "takin' a shower," he shouted over his shoulder, cat-calls filling the camp being overshadowed by the famous Taco line "you know you want it!"
"Get a towel you homo!" Steinbauer yelled after his comrade.
Michael ignored them as he smiled at the neat scrawl of his mother's cursive.
'My Little Boy,
You are good, and you are brave! You'll be such a good father some day, son. Your father would have been as proud as I am. Make it home...make it safe.
I love you,
Mom'
Rolling his eyes as she still insisted in calling him her 'little boy' he slid the letter back into the envelope and into a side pocket deep in his pack. Sitting back up he found his men staring at him and realized he still wore his goofy smile, his mother's words cheering him up immensely.
"What? Do you all wanna take turns reading the letter from my mother? Unpack your shit, alright? Mess tent's gonna open in an hour and then we're on a four-day op. Where the hell is Frogger? Shouldn't he be unpacking?"
Frogger was the nickname for Corporal Lance Franklin, the young black man earning it on their first tour when he sat on a toad at base camp in the states before deployment, deftly giving away his phobia of the amphibians as he hopped around screaming for someone to kill it.
Gunny, short for Gunnery Sergeant James Gunderson, pointed to the west of their tent. "I heard he was gonna play some basketball on the other side of the camp. Apparently some Delta boys think they're more black than he is and he needs to, as he said, 'rep-re-zent'."
Vaughn laughed as he fished around for his notepad and a pen, set on answering his mother's letter so she'd get it by September, if they were lucky.
'Mom,
Have I mentioned that it's hot over here? Well it is. Spending days driving around in the desert with three other Humvee and crammed in with four other guys gets to be a bit rough. Not to mention that they make you wear the bio hazard suits just in case, which adds in the factor of insulation.
I hate the desert!
We've got our first assignment! It's easy, so don't panic. We're doing recon in a town about 12 clicks from us, so nothing for you to worry about, they'll never even know we were there. We'll be heading out tomorrow. Our base is the largest medic station near Baghdad, so even if something happens we'll be taken care of.
Paper cuts, scraped knees, you name it, they'll fix it.
I'm staying safe! I got your letter, thanks so much for the words, mom. You're what I'm fighting for, don't forget that. Write when you can! We'll be here at camp for about a month before heading off again. I'll find your letters, don't worry.
I love you,
Michael'
...
