Harris stared down at the body that laid on the stretcher at his feet, the lifeless corpse of Lions laying under a OD green tarp. Everyone was doing the same, all absolutely mortified. Not for how he died, it was probably the best way to go, but just the suddenness of it. They'd managed to get three of the bastards before the rest scuttled off into whatever fucking tunnel they'd come out from but from there it just went down hill. Valga got hit by a sniper as they were clearing a village out in the grasslands, bullet hit him in the shoulder, shattering it and his collarbone. Foreshire got hit in the foot, taking off a few of his toes and two guys from Blue team, PV2 Jules and Calbareti were injured from light mortar fire. It was a shit show. Apparently Bravo didn't have much luck either, a few of their guys got hit too but no dead.

Harris sighed and put his head in his hands before sitting up, moving his Thompson to the side and turning, looking out the window. They were flying over Da Nang now, the rooftops of the city below, a mix of Vietnamese and European architecture. As they came over the airfield there was quite a bit of commotion around the front gate, looked like something had happened. Some little junker was sitting at the checkpoint, burnt and twisted, maybe a bomb.

It didn't take long for the UH-34's to touch down on the tarmac, Harris moving forward and opening the door, those inside quickly jumping out, injured first, medics quickly scooped them up and moved them to trucks. "How many dead!?" A medic yelled over the spooling down rotors.

"Only one! Four injured! One in my team and two from Blue team! That bird!" He pointed to the helicopter that'd just come in behind them, another set of medics moving to assist them much the same. The medic nodded his head and patted Harris on the back.

"You're pretty lucky! 4th Platoon had an entire squad get shitcanned in an ambush! Only four guys made it out!" He nodded before running off towards one of the jeeps. Harris stood, completely unmoving. An entire squad? Jesus fucking Christ. He shook his head and stepped off, holding his Thompson by the magazine.

"Corporal!" Harris stopped and turned around, Elwington making his way over to him, slowing down as he got closer. "I need you to write up your AAR when convenient, preferably soon. Brass wants to know what the fuck happened today." Harris nodded and watched Elwington step off back towards the other two UH-34's that had come in with Bravo.

…

"Right, as we all know today's Search and Destroy mission did not go according to plan. But I would like everyone to know across the board this wasn't an isolated incident. Through the sacrifices of our men however we have determined that the NLF are operating largely in the sector we attempted to patrol through today. From what we've gathered from reports made by NCOs, we're suspecting a regimental sized force located within this region." The man on stage stopped and turned to the crowd of soldiers. The man on stage in question was Major Sam Williams, head of 2 Company. Unlike most other officers Major Williams was a seasoned Veteran of Korea as well as participating in the Malayan Emergency during the 1950s. Funny that a Canadian Army officer was able to so easily transfer over to the US Marines.

He looked around at the weary men, all this dressed in combat gear. Whilst others stared idly off as their brains were recovering from the heat and overall intensity of the firefights, Harris was writing everything of importance down in his little notebook. "What we suspect is that most of the NLF are moving into the Da Nang region from these mountains, so we will continue to operate here until further notice with 2nd Company adjoining. Now gentlemen I'd advise you all go get yourselves cleaned up, have your kit squared away as tomorrow there will be another patrol out into the jungle once again. Dismissed."

Harris stood looking down at his notebook before stuffing it into his right top hand pocket, a tap on the shoulder getting his attention he was face to face with DeSau, he looked worse then most, "Hey, got a minute?"

…

The atmosphere was to say the least, tense. He hadn't even said a word but he'd sucked down on four cigarettes already and they'd just stepped out of the hanger 10 minutes ago. Harris leaned against the large wooden crate marked US MARINES that DeSau was sitting on, yet again lighting up another cigarette. "Aren't you the least bit shaken by that shit?"

Harris looked up from the crack in the ground he'd been staring at, raising his eyebrows as he did, staring at DeSau. He blinked a few times as if registering the question before nodding his head to the side and scrunching up his face, "I mean, yeah sorta'. I've seen plenty of people die, not in the best ways and I've fought plenty so it's not like I really give a shit but I mean. It was a little freaky for a second." Harris was a brilliant liar. Perhaps it was all those years of lying to the cops that would hang around the candy store not too far from his school that would pinch him for stealing all the time, always getting away with it, but deep down he was absolutely terrified.

DeSau nodded, sucking on the filter, "Yeah." He nodded. Harris turned his head, looking out towards the airstrip, two F-100's sitting on the tarmac ready for take off, their engines a low hum before they were given the green light, one coming to life, its engine screaming as it flew down the runway, the other starting seconds later, both taking off shortly after and moving out towards the South West. He looked down before turning his head, hearing talking from behind them, MPs.

He stood up and walked over, slinging his Thompson, "Hey fella's, what happened at the front gate?"

"Car bomb. Gook rolled up and was asked for his papers, apparently the fucker had something in the backseat. Internal is thinking it was packed with explosives. Killed the three guys outside the buildings, couldn't even find much of the fourth who was standing at the window." The MP shrugged, sighing.

Harris nodded, doing much the same before stepping back, the two MPs walking off. Well shit. Either they're getting desperate or they're all fucking insane. He thought to himself. "DeSau, I'm gonna' head back to the barracks and get ready for tomorrow, you comin'?"

DeSau turned to look over, giving a nonchalant shrug. Harris took that as a yes before walking off down the road. DeSau was a good guy. He wasn't much really if you looked at him. Guy from New Orleans who grew up poor and in a mixed house, always bullied for his skin colour, never really having much. He talked big but it seemed that little engagement sucked the life out of him, hopefully he could screw his head back on before tomorrow.

It didn't take long for Harris to reach the barracks area. The normally rowdy bunch that hung here were deathly silent. Only a few chose to break theirs and talk, it was almost like it was a funeral. Harris stepped into the NCOs billet which was equally as dead, Davidson sat on his rack, his head in his hands, Wallis just across from him was already getting his kit ready, at least someone was put together. He made his way to his rack, ejecting the magazine of his Thompson and making sure there wasn't a bullet in the chamber or something stupid before pulling the trigger, the bolt slamming forward with a satisfying chunk.

After securing and sowing his weapon he worked on getting off his kit and sorting it, he still needed to shower and clean off his uniform which was still stained with blood along with his helmet. Not that hard just grab a new wrap from the Q-Store. He sat it down and unclipped his webbing, sitting it on the bed before he unbuttoned and chucked his uniform top on the bed, "Harris." A voice called.

He turned and locked onto the person, Davidson. His eyes were bright red like he'd been crying, both wet and sunken into his head, "I can't do this man."

Harris scrunched up his face and shook his head, "Get over it Ric. It was one engagement, one. It wasn't your fault. If it didn't happen there it would have happened anywhere else." He snapped before turning and sitting down, beginning to unlace his boots.

"You don't understand! If I had-"

"No! Stop right there. You are the leader of our squad, not some fucking fireteam leader. Pull your fucking head in and start acting like it." Harris bared his teeth and shook his head, "Jesus Christ you're worse than my mother."

When did he become such a cold bastard?

Quick Glossary:
AAR: An After Action Report (AAR), is a report an NCO or Officer must make after any type of operation.

Rightio, so that was that. Short and sweet little chapter to tie up that last one. I hope people are enjoying this so far as this is more of an experiment to see how people react to it so please I'd like some feedback to know what people think and what people would like to see or have any questions. Thank you all for reading.