To Take it Back

I again wasn't made aware of some big event, like the big plan to take back Nelson, until one day on the Observation line when some of my pals were talking about it. I halted my game of rock paper scissors, and asked why I hadn't heard the news. Turns out, that was the day I got pulled aside by my LT to run some reports to the head of the night patrol during our evening muster formation. That was also why I was last in line at chow that evening. I did recall some conversations I overheard during that chow time though. I just thought it was more of my pals complaining about how they'd rather assault Nelson than explain to their girlfriends what they did back when they were stationed at McCarran. Either way, I was even more surprised when I learned that our squad was selected as part of the 1st wave. Three other random squads from the other companies also had this illustrious position.

The sergeants and corporals had been drawing out maps, tallying unit supplies, meeting with the 1st Sergeants, officers, etc., and calculating all their… stuff, and ran down a number of things with our squads around twice a day on the line. I was too low to get all the ins and outs of the plan, but for almost three weeks, our sergeants gave us a new objective in the plan about twice a day.

Maps were made in coordination with the night raider's reports, and I bided my time waiting for a concrete role in the plan. Between briefs on the 1st wave's role, there was a lot of down time, and I used that to try learning caravan again, only to be utterly humiliated yet again by some little scoundrel from Westside (a place near Vegas apparently). After that, when I wasn't considering new ways to improve my ant meat snack recipe, I wondered why we were going to attack. Why was this the time? This was especially puzzling considering about 1 in 3 rifles had adequate ammo or functionality, while most troopers on watch were using those awful over-under shotguns.

Eventually, it got to the point where our "1st wave squad" believed the whole thing to be a hoax, even after the companies designated their 2nd and third wave squads. We also believed it was a hoax when the stretchers were set out atop the line, recovery teams were pulled aside for drills, and when poker games were ended in order to make bombs. Even more crazily, we continued our disbelief when word reached us that a special platoon of troopers and a few rangers was coming down from Vegas to block off Nelson's western road to the 95 (The road my original company took to Nelson way back when).

We at Forlorn Hope were so used to how life was that we didn't even believe the obvious changes. All we knew was that supplies were still garbage, and the Legion still attacked nearly every day, night, or sand storm. The overall consensus was: Perhaps this whole take back plan was just a way to keep us on our toes. After all, offensive action requests to that "General Wait and See" were supposedly used as toilet paper.

So, I had just finished dropping off a letter in the collection to Stacy, my Followers girlfriend/pen pal about how brave and heroic I was in "volunteering" for the 1st wave. At least mail was still operating sufficiently enough. Runners could get our mail from Helios, but not a few extra bullets, or new barrel for our melted belt-feds. Anyway, I knew for sure this was just a drill exercise when I sent that letter, and that was also when I was instantly proven wrong.

Sergeant Holms approached my gaggle of pals on the line when he said plainly, "We're hittin them in the morning, troopers." Then, he walked away.

That left a number of troopers laughing, laughing at the first joke we ever heard our sergeant say. His serious tone during the delivery of that obvious joke made the thing extra hilarious.

Denial.

After a minute, we stopped laughing, and his words sank in. No way was this attack actually happening, right?

Our 1st wave drills had been basically just fun team building activities well away from no man's. They weren't serious?

Heck, we hadn't even been briefed today on the 80th change in objective?

Suddenly, our corporal steps over and says, "Sarn't Holms squad, form up in Charlie's shack house for objective briefing."

Denial continued: While our squad was sitting with the three other 1st wave squads in the shack house, denial. While being told about our new objective, denial. While sitting on the line in full kit, denial. While checking our weapons and passing out ammo, denial. While the raid squad moved into no man's, denial. While the night hours passed, denial. While the gunshots continued and moved back, while moving slowly out into no man's at 3am, while waiting for the order of advance, while moving forward after the order of advance, while Nelson and the southern line of crosses got closer, denial.

By that point, all I was thinking was, "Alright. When's this drill going to end?"

I can't speak for my pals, but the moment I finally accepted reality was around 20 seconds after the horn blew at a distant Legion watchtower and when I saw the swarm of masked faces even darker by the early morning storming towards us. The "Fire!" order was given, and we certainly did just that as our 1st wave halted at the southern edge of no man's. The guns bursting and the flurry of dust and sand kicking up, accompanied by the shouts of those maniacs made sure this was reality.

Firing at the black swarm of moving and maniacally screaming blackness in the dark morning, my gun clicked, telling me it was empty, but I forgot how to reload the service rifle. Not really, I was just too focused on the horde of crazies swarming towards us that I forgot the service rifle didn't have a release lever like those awful shotguns I'd gotten used to dealing with. In the heat of the early and psychotic dawn, knowledge hit me like a cinder block, and I dumped the magazine while reaching for a new one in my bandolier. The corner of my eye and the terrible screams said that someone was getting hacked to death by a machete. Was it me? I didn't think so as I tried to release the gosh darn freaking button on my bandolier pouch! (Who the Heck thought "buttons" were a good idea for stiff leather ammo pouches!?) I think about an hour and a half passed when I finally ripped the pouch open, pulled out the fresh magazine, and went to stuff it in the well when I was thrown to the ground.

Vision blurry, I felt another heavy thing on me. I didn't see it because I didn't put on my dust goggles during the march, so sand got in my eyes during the scuffle (Again). I tried to either wipe the sand off my face with my sand covered arm, or swat away whatever was on me (I forget which), when I felt a terrific pain in that arm. I never stuck my arm in a bear trap before, but in the moment I was pretty sure that's what happened. Jaws locked on my arm, and my vision came back for only a single second just to show what was happening. A snarling beast locked on my arm, and sat upon me. For some reason, during the unbearable and agonizing pain of fangs and jaws breaking my arm, I had a strange thought:

"I'd never actually seen one of them Denver Hounds before."

The jaws released, making me believe it took pity on me for some reason. Wrong again. It only released its grip on my arm so that it could get my shoulder or neck without a full mouth. Horrible pain shot through my shoulder as its paws pinned me down. The pain made me shoot my arms up like a mummy or like I was trying to hug the dog when another thing happened. I felt a slight knick on my left arm, the arm that was bitten, and felt something clawing at my right leg. My brain couldn't tell me which pain to process faster, so I felt almost totally numb to the pains in my shoulder, arm, and leg. The sensations were crazy, I still couldn't see, and it was all too much. I either thought or shouted at the strangely numb but still painful sensations as the dog continued locking itself on my shoulder.

I shouted or thought, "WHAT'S HAPPENING!?"

Suddenly, I felt very tired, and decided to take a nap while the dog inflicted pain subsided, and the psychotic screams of carnage faded away.