A/N: This chapter is rated T/M. Some graphic violence and some cursing.

War is Hell

I will strive always to excel in every art and artifice of war.

I look down the iron sight of my big beauty. My first love. My M60. Nicknamed the Big Beauty not only for her large size but her fire power. She weighed twenty three pounds unloaded. I carried several hundred rounds of ammunition. A rocket launcher. Several grenades. As crazy as it may sound I packed light because mobility is key. Our missions were always clear. So I would pack mission oriented. Which only added an extra hundred and fifty pounds. No matter what the mission was Big Beauty always came with me.

I felt my body shake as the C130 shook. However I continue to clean my weapon without missing a beat. The rocking was soothing as I prepared my mind and soul for battle.

I've been away for about 4 months... 94 days to be exact. I have not been able to call her but she wrote me, but her voice plays in my head. I've received four letters. I'm sure there's more in transit. Letters sometimes got lost en route or they took longer when we were in the field. Either way I was still appreciative.

I do not know how I got so lucky with her. She was patient with me, and my job. Diane promised to wait for me. I have heard others make the same promise and not keep it, but when she said it I knew it was different. I could feel myself falling crazy... stupid madly in love with her. I missed her so much. I kept her picture in my vest. I can't wait to get back to her. I cherished her letters, rereading them when I was alone. Riley even sent me some drawings giving me updates about school through her stick figures.

"We are going be landing soon." Bradley said as he walked up to me pulling me from my own thoughts.

"Roger." I say inspecting my weapon one last time.

"You alright?" He asked.

"I'm good. Mission ready." I say standing checking my ruck.

"If you truly love her. Just marry her." Bradley chuckles.

"We haven't even been dating for a year and I've spent most of it away from her." I argue. Marriage? The thought alone makes me uneasy. Would she marry me?

"This profession changes the pace of our lifestyles. It's also another way to make sure they're taken care of. Army pays you more. Separation pay, and a good ole insurance policy." He says shrugging his shoulders as he puts his vest on. I follow suit. He punches my plate as I punch his. Delta tradition for as long as I can remember.

Delta operators are a different breed of soldiers. Different breed of human. Bizarre traditions. Bizarre behaviors. Plate punching. Taping our dog tags to our chest we didn't believe in rubber silencers. Writing on blood types on every article of clothing. Random fighting when we are bored or trying to settle a minuscule argument. Random spots sleeping.

"Do you remember the mission?" My father asked I watch as we huddle up to pray before we get off the aircraft.

"We had been all over Somalia. We were dismantling a war lord, Kai's, empire. We were now going after him. We had backed him into a corner. We were gonna get him and the remaining lieutenants. The group that went before us was unable to finish them. They got held up. We were suppose to distract the hostiles and let them sneak out." I explain as I remember the soul crushing mission.

We commandeered a shitty run down pick up truck. We were going to set up and wait and unleash hell. I sat in the back of pick up next to Paul. Longhorn next to Eagle Eye. He'd point them out and I'd annihilate them. We usually were not together. Bradley was my official unofficial partner. Foley was usually with Doc Jones. Doc Jones was also out mechanic and Bradley drove as team leader. We were cruising through the crappy village.

"What happened?" My father asks. I instinctually wipe my tears away. Looking at my shaking hands. I was crying. I am crying. I feel my heart begin to break. Scarred wounds breaking open. Then I feel rage boiling over.

"Why? Why this?" I say as my voice cracks.

"What happened?" He asks again. I feel my rage begin to blind me. The playful banter of my team echoing in my head.

"I remember..." was all I could think to say. "I remember all the arguments that we had about my choice to enlist and not go through OCS. My choice to drop out of college and enlist. You didn't talk to me for months... I never felt like I was a good enough soldier. Or son. I remember you telling how proud of me you were when I got a battlefield commission. That it was a true testament to my merit, but I never told you what happened. That this promotion came at the blood of my friends!" I yell.

"Jack..."

"No. You watch! You watch what I did to earn this!" I argue pointing at the run down truck.

The truck was not as soothing as the C130. You cannot relax on a mission. Adrenaline was at Mach 5 so there was a struggle to to reel it in and keep a clear head.

"I've got movement..." Foley called out but before he could finish the pinging of ricocheting bullets off the truck.

"Hold on." Bradley said as he began evasive maneuvers. I held onto the edge as Foley and I kicked the roof of the pick up off.

I grabbed Big Beauty and let her fury unleash. The hot bullets illuminate briefly in the night. The free glow of the night vision still haunts me. I fired in clusters as Foley shouted out their locations. I tried to my damnest to get them as quick as he called them but we quickly discovered we were outmanned with nowhere to go.

That's when I heard it. The haunting hiss of an RPG. The rocket propelled grenade glowed brightly as it came flying at us. I felt my stomach hit there floor. I thought of my family back home in Texas. I thought of Diane. I thought of Riley. I thought I was going to die with uncanny certainty.

The rocket struck underneath the driver side where the pickup and cabin met. I remember feeling the pickup lift off the ground as Big Beauty and I get separated. I was thrown from the vehicle like I was weightless. I'm unsure what I hit but I was thrown like a rag doll and destroyed everything in my path. Once my body came to rest I tried to get up onto my feet. I spit out a mouthful of blood.

I need to check on my teammates. My friends. I need to get to cover. The men that blew us up would be coming to check. I could not get up. I could not move. I could barely see. I felt like a truck ran me over. My entire body hurts. I see the fiery glow of the truck remains reflecting off my blood pool. I fight to stay conscious.

I pulled myself up using a nearby car that stopped my air travel. My hands burn and the world is spinning. I immediately do a blood sweep on myself checking for any major bleeds. I'm covered in dirt and blood, but I cannot find the source. I touch my face as I drop blood. The night vision goggles are gone. My vision is blurred and my one eye is just about swollen shut. My skin stings as I touch it. The only thing I can hear is my own thoughts and even they are muffled. My uniform is shredded and I'm now unarmed.

I look around trying desperately to focus my vision. I see two or three shadowy figures around the fiery blast. I hide behind a dumpster or a car... I'm not exactly sure what. I unsheathed my knife as my vision focuses on the two tangos. The second one of these guys gives me there back I'll get him.

I crouch low as I steady my breathing. I struggle to hold the knife steady in my hand. I'm sure it's broken. My ears are ringing as the men approach. I can more clearly make out there silhouettes with my obscured vision. I can hear them begin to argue with each other in their native tongue. It sounds like peanuts in my head.

One man touches my blood pool not knowing that I'm stalking him from behind. My singed uniform acting as camouflage. The other man begins trying to lift a cigarette. I use the remainder of my adrenaline and explode from behind the dumpster. I grab him by the shirt collar and yank him towards me and drag the blade across his throat with such force I nearly decapitate the poor guy. I kick his lifeless body to his friend. The man drops his cigarette horrified. He pushes his dead friend away still shocked. I tackle him to the ground covering his mouth with one hand stabbing him with the other. I watch the life drain from his eyes. I grab his rifle from his body.

I gimp and limp towards the truck and I find Paul crawling away about ten feet from the blaze. I'm relieved, but scared at the same time.

"Paul... Paul, you aright?" I asked breathless. He turns panicked shoving his burnt pistol in my face. I fight with him for control of the weapon.

"JD?!" He asks confused holding my face. I pull the weapon away from him.

"It's me." I say trying to be as soothing as I can but I could barely hear my own voice.

"JD, my leg! Look at my leg!" Paul says grabbing my collar and grabbing what was left of his leg with the other. I fight the urge to get sick looking at the bones of tendons in his leg. I snatch the tourniquet off his vest as mine was probably melted somewhere.

"Quit touching it! You're gonna fuck it up!" I say applying the tourniquet. I undid my belt and secured his bum leg to his good leg. "Can you fight?"

"I can fight." Paul said gathering his bearing.

"You better not shoot me." I said handing him back his pistol. I grab him under the arms and begin dragging him away from the crash and putting him in a nearby fruit cart. "Call for evac. I'll be right back." I tell him as I go back to the fiery blaze.

"Jones?!" I call out seeing him desperately trying to break the driver door free.

"John's stuck inside." Doc Jones panicked. I smash the windshield several times with the butt of the weapon before it finally breaks. Jones and I grab and pull Bradley out as muscle fatigue began to set in for both of us.

"Is he alive?!" I ask Jones who begins to look him over. Bradley was not moving and I can't tell if he's breathing. He's badly burned, and his helmet was cracked.

"Barely. We gotta get him to a hospital." Doc Jones said with shaky hands. I hand Doc Jones the rifle and pick up Bradley and carry him to the fruit cart that Foley is in.

"Evac is... is the fa... fail safe rendezvous point." Foley stutters as he is shivering. The tourniquet is stopping his leg from bleeding but he could have internal injuries.

"Doc, set a charge on the truck." I tell him as I try to calm Foley again.

I struggle to free the fruit cart on account of my burnt broken hand. I continue to feel my vision get worse.

"JD, let me get them. You lead." Doc says trying to hand me the rifle.

"I can barely see. Just go..." I see breathless.

"Jack?" I hear my father say to me. He touches my arm and I immediately pull it away.

This is something that has haunted me for twenty years. I've never spoke about this to anyone.

"What happened..."

"Intel was bad... due to a clerical error we received the wrong map. We prepped for months with bad intel! We went through a hot zone and Kai's stronghold on bad intel." I say feeling myself getting blinded by my rage.

"How'd everyone make out?" My father asks again. I crumble on the floor as I laugh.

"We all survived technically." I say laughing as I cover my face. "We were able to get to the fail safe point with no issue... Bradley suffered a severe TBI he now sits in a wheelchair and has multiple seizures a day. He doesn't speak. He just sits there staring. Not to mention he lost a couple fingers and part of his hand not that it matters because he doesn't know what's going on! He was a fucking war hero!" I yell slowly getting to my feet walking towards my father.

"Jack..."

"He got a Purple Heart and some other bullshit medals not that he knows... hmmm let me see who do you want to talk about next?"

"Jack..."

"Foley... that poor SOB lost his leg. He got a Purple Heart and a silver star, and vivid flashbacks anytime he sees them or me for that matter. Greatest sniper in the game taking out just like that!"

"Jack!"

"Doc Jones became a cadre SF instructor and recruited operators. Got himself a promotion and a silver star for his troubles. And then there's yours truly..." I say with a chuckle ignoring him again. "I got a battlefield commission. First one in fifty years! According to our unit's historian. A Purple Heart and a silver star. Oh, and last but not least a life of regret, and nightmares."

"There's nothing you could've done." He says and I push him back. I feel something snap inside me.

"If I just shot that guy maybe..." I say as I begin to feel myself become overcome with emotion.

"Another one would've got you. You can't blame yourself." He says and I shake my head.

"You don't know! You weren't there! I lost three great friends that night. Bradley's wife slapped me when she saw me at Heidelberg. She blamed me, it's my fault. I was suppose to have his back. It should've been me." He tries to touch me again and I push him. I can few tears streaming down my cheeks.

"Jack..."

"You got what you wanted. I got commissioned became an officer just like you wanted. I was finally good enough for you."

"You've always been good enough. I know that I haven't always expressed that to you or cricket. But you made me more than proud. You took care of your Ma and sister while I was away. You stood by me threw my drinking when I didn't deserve it. I love you son, and I've always been proud of you." He says hugging me. I feel myself crumble like a boy.

Please Review! What do you think? I apologize if the violence was too much. I tried to capture the reality of 'War is Hell'. Jack has hinted throughout the series that he's experienced some bloody battles. I wanted to include that, and how it effected him back stateside.

p.s. I'm working on Mistaken Identity. Just trying to get some kinks out so it can get the ending it deserves. Stay tuned!