I was sat wrapping my fingers and the palms of my hands with medical tape,
it was part of the ritual I went through each time we had a "mission". I
then checked that I'd filled all the available pockets on my load-bearing
harness with ammo, before lifting my medical pack and slipping the straps
over my shoulders, adjusting them slightly to a snug fit. It was heavy and
uncomfortable but a necessity as I was the field-medic for Chalk 3.
Getting ready for the missions is very much a hurry up and wait affair, kit
ourselves up and sit around until we're told we're going or we're not. It
used to be a buzz all this waiting, but after kitting yourself up everyday,
but only actually getting out once a week makes for people getting bored
and boredom among Rangers is never good.
But the vibes were good about this run, a quick in out and back before
sunset. D'Tamissi, our Chalk leader said a few final words of
encouragement. "A'ight guys, I want you focused out there, keep it clean.
Rope in, set up that perimeter and keep it and remember: do not, I repeat,
do not fire unless fired upon. Ho-AH?"
"HOO-AH."
"OK, let's do this."
The call sign came through and we were out running across the tarmac to our Hawk, pulling myself and gun in and clipping to the safety line, the rotors worked up the familiar hum I realized then that Twombly and I hadn't had our usual "Don't shoot any chickens" talk we have before we set off, I must of looked pained cause Maddox leaned over. "You OK, Cody?"
I smiled "Sure."
"Well, don't look like that you put me off."
I laughed, I was being superstitious, I lent out and looked at the Hawk Twombly'd be in, see now I was alright, just needed reassurance and General Garrison? "Good Luck." He smiled, cigar in hand, "No one get's left behind." He walked off, to the next Hawk I assumed. We all looked at each other, that was.... weird, to say the least "That's all we fuckin' need." Maddox moved his gun slightly and chuckled to himself "Next thing he'll be wanting to have a beer with us." The chalk's murmured laughter was drowned out by our Pilot Wolcott's voice informing us that we were about to take off "Ladies and gentlemen my name is Cliff Elvis Wolcott, I'll be your pilot this afternoon. Federal Regulations have designated this a non-smoking Black Hawk helicopter. For those of you rouges on Mogadishu Free Flyer Programme. You'll be earning a 100 credits this afternoon. And as always the air sickness bags are located in the seat back in front of you."
We kept above the humvee convoy until they turned inland, then the choppers headed out over the sea, it always amazes me when we fly over the water, the sun is low in the sky at this time and it really makes you feel insignificant as I look over the expanse of blue. "Two minutes" I looked over at one of the Little Birds flying beside us, it held a Delta team; they always look so calm and relaxed ready for anything that's thrown at them. We were all in awe of them when we were first put in close quarters with them, and they taught us a lot, like how to tape the grenades to how to hit the ball just right to win a Ping Pong match. The only thing that I didn't like about them, was their disrespect for authority, Rangers, we're very proud of our chain of command, but Delta if they think their idea is better, they sure as hell will let you know it, no matter who they talk down. "One minute." We turned inland now and started to fly through thick, black smoke, the kind that you can feel in your lungs, I coughed and squinted my eyes, catching the Sammie's pulling trash for roadblocks. I could just make out the convoy before the chopper turned again following the line of a street before lowering itself to hover just above some buildings. "OK, Ropes. Go... Go."
I had roped in and set myself to the left of the cross road, it was a good position. People were running and screaming which on top of the noise of the Hawks made it near impossible to hear properly, but I was sure there was the noise of gunfire in the distance. Othic crashed down and took a different angle protecting my right side. The dusty wind lifted as the Hawk flew up to provide sniper cover making it a lot easier to see the Sammies with guns. I watched the kick up of dirt as bullets moved closer to where Othic and I lay. "Sir! Sir! They're shooting at us." Othic yelled to D'Tamissi who was at the other side of the street. "Well, shoot back!" came the reply. Othic fired a couple of rounds making my ears ring, usually this deterred them and they'd run off, but today they stayed and returned fire. A lanky guy kept running out firing and running back to a pile of rubble, he was beginning to annoy me, his shots were getting closer; he made the mistake of keeping to that same routine I knew where he'd run to so fired just ahead of him as he ran back. He stumbled as a bullet hit his leg, then fell forward as I hit his chest, he dropped his gun and crawled behind the rubble, I shot of a couple more rounds at the gun, hoping to disarm it when there was an explosion of feathers, "I shot a chicken"
"So?"
"The chickens aren't shooting at us." Othic smiled and shook his head slightly before returning his full concentration back up the street. I looked at the mass of feathers and blood and tutted to myself. There was a loud snap to my left as a bullet whistled past me and embedded itself into the wall, "Shiiiiiiiiiit" I fired blindly up the street.
I was relaxed, well as relaxed as you could be in a situation like this. Our 60-gunner had cut down the crowd of Somalis and it had become pretty quiet at our position. I could still hear the pop of gunfire at the other chalk locations, but Delta had nearly finished at the target building so they must be about ready to move out. Then an explosion happened overhead and a Black Hawk jerked about, a trail of smoke appeared. "Hey, that bird's hit!" shouted someone. The rotor stopped and a there was grinding sound, the bird shuddered and started to spin slowly, then picked up speed. I fought to resist the urge to stand opened mouthed and watch it go down. The radio buzzed with the news, this wasn't meant to happen, Somalis couldn't shoot them down. But we had seen it.
"HOO-AH."
"OK, let's do this."
The call sign came through and we were out running across the tarmac to our Hawk, pulling myself and gun in and clipping to the safety line, the rotors worked up the familiar hum I realized then that Twombly and I hadn't had our usual "Don't shoot any chickens" talk we have before we set off, I must of looked pained cause Maddox leaned over. "You OK, Cody?"
I smiled "Sure."
"Well, don't look like that you put me off."
I laughed, I was being superstitious, I lent out and looked at the Hawk Twombly'd be in, see now I was alright, just needed reassurance and General Garrison? "Good Luck." He smiled, cigar in hand, "No one get's left behind." He walked off, to the next Hawk I assumed. We all looked at each other, that was.... weird, to say the least "That's all we fuckin' need." Maddox moved his gun slightly and chuckled to himself "Next thing he'll be wanting to have a beer with us." The chalk's murmured laughter was drowned out by our Pilot Wolcott's voice informing us that we were about to take off "Ladies and gentlemen my name is Cliff Elvis Wolcott, I'll be your pilot this afternoon. Federal Regulations have designated this a non-smoking Black Hawk helicopter. For those of you rouges on Mogadishu Free Flyer Programme. You'll be earning a 100 credits this afternoon. And as always the air sickness bags are located in the seat back in front of you."
We kept above the humvee convoy until they turned inland, then the choppers headed out over the sea, it always amazes me when we fly over the water, the sun is low in the sky at this time and it really makes you feel insignificant as I look over the expanse of blue. "Two minutes" I looked over at one of the Little Birds flying beside us, it held a Delta team; they always look so calm and relaxed ready for anything that's thrown at them. We were all in awe of them when we were first put in close quarters with them, and they taught us a lot, like how to tape the grenades to how to hit the ball just right to win a Ping Pong match. The only thing that I didn't like about them, was their disrespect for authority, Rangers, we're very proud of our chain of command, but Delta if they think their idea is better, they sure as hell will let you know it, no matter who they talk down. "One minute." We turned inland now and started to fly through thick, black smoke, the kind that you can feel in your lungs, I coughed and squinted my eyes, catching the Sammie's pulling trash for roadblocks. I could just make out the convoy before the chopper turned again following the line of a street before lowering itself to hover just above some buildings. "OK, Ropes. Go... Go."
I had roped in and set myself to the left of the cross road, it was a good position. People were running and screaming which on top of the noise of the Hawks made it near impossible to hear properly, but I was sure there was the noise of gunfire in the distance. Othic crashed down and took a different angle protecting my right side. The dusty wind lifted as the Hawk flew up to provide sniper cover making it a lot easier to see the Sammies with guns. I watched the kick up of dirt as bullets moved closer to where Othic and I lay. "Sir! Sir! They're shooting at us." Othic yelled to D'Tamissi who was at the other side of the street. "Well, shoot back!" came the reply. Othic fired a couple of rounds making my ears ring, usually this deterred them and they'd run off, but today they stayed and returned fire. A lanky guy kept running out firing and running back to a pile of rubble, he was beginning to annoy me, his shots were getting closer; he made the mistake of keeping to that same routine I knew where he'd run to so fired just ahead of him as he ran back. He stumbled as a bullet hit his leg, then fell forward as I hit his chest, he dropped his gun and crawled behind the rubble, I shot of a couple more rounds at the gun, hoping to disarm it when there was an explosion of feathers, "I shot a chicken"
"So?"
"The chickens aren't shooting at us." Othic smiled and shook his head slightly before returning his full concentration back up the street. I looked at the mass of feathers and blood and tutted to myself. There was a loud snap to my left as a bullet whistled past me and embedded itself into the wall, "Shiiiiiiiiiit" I fired blindly up the street.
I was relaxed, well as relaxed as you could be in a situation like this. Our 60-gunner had cut down the crowd of Somalis and it had become pretty quiet at our position. I could still hear the pop of gunfire at the other chalk locations, but Delta had nearly finished at the target building so they must be about ready to move out. Then an explosion happened overhead and a Black Hawk jerked about, a trail of smoke appeared. "Hey, that bird's hit!" shouted someone. The rotor stopped and a there was grinding sound, the bird shuddered and started to spin slowly, then picked up speed. I fought to resist the urge to stand opened mouthed and watch it go down. The radio buzzed with the news, this wasn't meant to happen, Somalis couldn't shoot them down. But we had seen it.
