On going war story

[Cloney 0]

*Please try to keep stuff in this story somewhat realistic and appropriate. Fighter Jets and such are cool but no B-52 Alpha strikes or anything like that. I'd also like to try to involve as many countries as realisticly possible, just try to have them added to the story in a realistic manner*

Mods if you could help me out and try and keep this in check?

Ok I will Start...

The Mountains of Afghanistan were really starting to get to me. It was March and my squad was on yet another patrol through the mountains. The bitterly cold wind and the wet snow would minimize mobility and our 80 pound rucks didn't help. I guess leading a squad of the 101st Airborne Division wouldn't be as exciting as the Army Recruiting posters had advertised.

I readjusted my MOLLE vest hoping to keep it from cutting of circulation to my arm. These new interceptor vests were no better than the old PASGT vests. I looked back and surely enough, my squad was trudging through the ankle high snow, ever vigilant for Al-Queda snipers and Taliban Militia. I prodded forward a few more feet untill I noticed a small clearing, completely devoid of rocks. I signaled my squad to stay sharp and they dropped to one knee, covering their pre-assigned AOR.

I ordered pointman to check it out, he moved up and i follwed 5 steps behind him. A shot rung out and ricoshea'd off a rock. The bullet tumbled through the air and cought Corporal Twivlesen in the Shoulder. He screamed in pain as his 3 color desert fatigue shirt was turning red with his blood.

I sqeezed off four rounds from my M4 and told me squad to fall back to the ridgeline about 30m from our position. To my horror a claymore mine detonated and ripped into my squad. My SAW gunner was thrown back twelve feet from the shrapnel but luckily wasn't killed by any of the ball bearings. the ball bearings pinged off of rocks with fury. One bounced off my helmet and I was stunned for a second, akin to being hit by a 90 mph baseball. Soon, there was automatic weapons fire erupting from every crevice near the clearing. Some of my men tried returning fire but it was hopeless we were outmanned and outgunned. When we reached the ridgeline Pvt Kelly stabilzed Twivlesen. We were well protected from gun fire and attempted to organize a defensive position. I located my RTO near a curve in the ridgeline and attempted to get online with another unit near by.

"This is Mako Two Four Alpha, One Zero One Airborne we need immediate reinforcements and medivac. Is anyone recieving? We are in a world of shit! We need support over!"

*Okay guys, its up to you now*

[Aculaud 0]

My name is Gary Goldman. I'm a gunnery sargeant in the 26th MEU. Designated marksman in my squad. The base camp where i'm stationed at the moment is just north of Tora Bora, and a ways east of Kabul. I'm just sorta hangin' out at the moment. Wondering why we aren't out raiding something.

The afternoon sun was beautiful. It was very enchanting just sitting here taking in the surroundings. Then I heard some static coming from a radio. What i was able to make out was "This is Mako Two Four -----,---- Zero One Airbo---- need immediate reinforc------ and medivac. Is anyone recieving? We are in a world of shit!--------- support over!". I looked over at my squad leader who was standing right there, waiting very impatiantly for him to give the word. When i was about to ask him if we were going, he reached forward for the radios reciever, picked it up and tried reaching the entrenched airborn boys. "Mako two four Alpha, do you Copy? ...............Mako Two Four Alpha, hold your position, we are sending support, over!? ....." After a moment of no response, the lieutenant paused for a moment, and then looked at us. "What're ya waiting for, christmas!? You heard them over there, get your asses in gear!" With that, i headed straight for my equipment. My vest was packed with ammo. It was so heavy, i wasnt wearing it so much as it was wearing me. And that wasnt even including my Alice pack. I picked up my M14 DMR, and got back to the rest of the group.

"Alright, heres the situation. Vasquez's One Zero One is down, we're going over there to reinforce them. Radio communications sounded pretty damn hectic, so we really have no choice but to assume its a hostile situation. Alright, you know the drill, lets pack it in!" With that, we headed for the Black Hawk and loaded up.

[Oligo 1]

My name, well, I don't even think about that anymore, since it was given to me by father, who only lives in my memories and my mother whom I do not even recall.

My whole life has been a struggle for survival through this land of incomprehensible cruelty and immense beauty. My mother died soon after giving birth to me. She got an infection, which sapped her strength and overcame her body in a few weeks. As her last act on this earth, she prayed to god for a bright future for her sons. But god in his cruelty did not listen.

My dad had hard time providing for me and my brother. Therefore we had to help him as soon as we were old enough. We ran shipments of poppies through the ragged mountains of our homeland, forever wary of bands of armed men. There was no other work available, so this was our way of getting the everyday food.

Then came a day when a bride was found for my brother. A wedding was arranged. But fate had his sights set on me, so he arranged for me to go fetch a goat for slaughter just when he sent the wailing banshees to rain fire on all the people I knew. This sight I will never forget and so I will never know peace again.

So this is my fate. To walk on this earth like a shadow wearing tattered rags. To carry a rifle that has seen countless wars and countless warriors. Like time has carved the marks of wear on the surface of this weapon, so god or fate, whichever is true, has carved my soul.

I serve men who believe in god. They want to kill in the name of their god. I don't care about god, but I know these men hate the devils coming to our land with their strange clothes and weapons. So I fight with these pious men. I will kill as long as the devils finish their work and send me to my kin, which they took away from me.

Today we ran into a flock of the evil men. No time for thoughts, it's time to act. I assault with the ghosts of my father and brother running beside me.

[Cloney 0]

The Little men in their white baggy clothes were stepping up their fire on our position. Their DSHK machinegun was emptying belt after belt into our position but it was ineffective because of ridge and the surrounding rocks. The medic, Pvt Kelly stumbled over to me,

"Sarge, Twivs has gone into shock, hes losing too much blood he needs an evac pronto"

"Roger that, I'm doing all I can Private, stay calm and remember to keep him calm"

Kelly stumbled back to the bleeding soldier. The SAW gunner, who was still rattled from the claymore blast, got up and positioned his SAW inbetween some rocks, waiting for some Taliban militia to poke their heads out.

"Raggies 6 O clock!"

We all turned in time to see two taliban soldiers move into the position behind us. One set up their RPK and cut into the back of my Grenadier, three rounds deflected of the plate, but the fourth and fifth ripped through his Interceptor vest and tore massive holes in his upper back. He died instantly.

Pvt. Lorraine of Kenisington, Indiana fired two rounds from his M16A2 into the RPK gunner but had forgotten to reload. I brought my M4 to bear and fired five rounds. I looked into the bearded man's face as the life drained from his eyes and the blood flowed from hsi mouth and nostrils. The 5.56 mm rounds tore through his skin like a pencil through wet paper. He cried out "Allah Ack-" I fired another 3 rounds into him and he died.

I had never killed someone before. I'd killed for my country and I hoped that it was enough. For I never want to do it again. I gazed at my squad, now old 6 strong, they were ragged and outnumbered. We hadn't noticed but the other Soldiers firing at us from the rocks to our north has stopped firing. Then came the awful squeal of incoming mortar round, shortly followed by the sound of a UH-60 Blackhawk helicopter...

[MDRZulu 0]

Wow. I am so bored I think I will ask a mod to give me a 48 hour post restriction for being spammy well after I've been warned about it. I guess I'll talk to you guys in two days!

Keep up the interesting prose, guys.

[Othin 0]

Aboard the USS George Washington (CVN 73) Aviation Ordinanceman third class (AO3) May tiredly donned his PPE and slid the goggles over his face. The order has just come down to load up a F/A-18C Hornet with JDAMS ASAP. As he directed his airman and briefly conferred with the plane captain he wondered for the thousandth time what he was really doing.

"I put bombs on planes and they come back empty. Does this mean I'm helping kill people? Am I a killer? Is it wrong of me to be glad that the planes come back empty so we don't have to offload the ordinance?"

AO3 May sighs wearily as he walks back to his shop wondering where the Hornet had to get to on such short notice.

[Aculaud 0]

We came up over a ridge and through the fog to see a most ominous scene. Bodies peppered the ground below, both NATO and Taliban. My back clung to the open door of the chopper, by my harness holding me in place, allowing me a front row seat to the most realistic shooting gallery imaginable. I scanned the rocks and boulders with my scope, waiting for a chance. I got one, no, two. A mortar team setting up shop at 10 o clock. I motioned to the pilot to steady out a bit so I could set up the shot. I peered through and viewed the two men. Definitely not NATO. They were indeed armed however, which could mean only one thing to me. I leveled the crosshairs on the white of one of their uniforms and fired. For a second, I could have sworn I saw the bullet in mid flight, almost as though it slowed down just for me, signaling me with “Nice shot, Goldman!â€

Almost immediately after I fired, I was slightly alarmed by the loud whir of the M134 as it tore out into the scene in front of it. As soon as I came to my senses a split second later, I looked back up to where I fired and the second man was gone. Hiding somewhere. Only a splat of red on the rock behind it remained.

We circled around what looked like a pod of gunfire shooting out from the center until we could get close enough. I slung my rifle, and brought out my other scope. I looked down to see an intense face waving to us for help. “Its them! Friendlies, 9 o clock!†My own voice seemed so distant and insignificant compared to the constant beating of the rotors above. I knew my squad leader could read my lips, however. His voice had a much more potent effect. “Alright, Bring it down!!â€. With that, we landed.

We were able to set down about fifty meters from the entrenched troops. When we got low enough, we dropped the ropes, and hit the dirt. I released myself from the harness, took hold of the rope and slid down. My squad leader almost directly parallel to me on the other rope. My hands were numb from the ropes vibration on them. If it hadn’t been for my gloves, Corporal Twivlesen wouldn’t have been the only in need of a medivac.

We made it to the desperate remnants of the squad. “Medivac is coming, they should be about three minutes behind us!â€

[Cloney 0]

I looked at the advancing Marine's vest, it read 'Goldman'. I dashed out to meet him at the whirl of the Blackhawk taking off sent dust into the air.

"Sargeant Luiz Vasquez, 101st Airborne!"

"Goldman, Two-Six MEU"

"Roger that, we need your squad on the left, we saw some of the Raggies move towards that position, we've been taking mortar fire for about 10 minutes now and we think they're prepping for an attack."

The Marine told his Squad Leader the situation and the Heavily Equipment Marines hustled to their position, fearless and dedicated, just like the Commercials portrayed them. One thing I knew was that my Air Assault One Zero One boys were just as good. We'd see how well these Marines would hold up when the bullets started flying.

The mortars whizzed over and began impacting below the ridge, we were safe untill they adjusted their fire. I adjusted my helmet and balaclave in time to see a Marine sprint to me and say

"The Medivac aint coming, hit by an SA-7!"

My blood ran cold.

[Othin 0]

Haji shivered a little bit and clutched his rifle closer. He couldn't remember the last time he hadn't been scared or hungry. A few months back his friends and himself had set off from a mountain town in Northwestern Pakistan on a great journey. They were getting the chance to prove what fierce warriors they were by fighting evil itself. Since that point he had come to find that battling "evil" was like trying to kill water or strangle clouds. It was always just out of reach...

His reflections were suddenly shattered when he heard the thudding of a helicopters rotors. He immediately slithered under a bush and began looking for the helo. Just as he spotted coming around the side of a mountain a smokey finger reach out and touched it.

For a moment everything stopped. It seemed to float in the air as if on strings, then it exploded harshly and fell, no rained, from the sky.

Haji blinked a few times trying to come to grips with what he had just seen. He moved his way forward out of the bush and began to look around for his friends and comrades. They to began to come out of hiding grinning nervously and wondering who took the helo down.

After conferrng briefly they spread out and began to cautiously make their way towards the wreckage. It was amazing how a single machine like that could hold so many pieces when destroyed. Everywhere he looked there was a flaming piece or bent metal.

Haji knelt down next to a large rock and gingerly turned over a piece of wreckage, still trying to reconcile this blackened piece of trash with the intimidating helo that it had been before.

Suddenly he heard movement to his right. As he pulled up his rifle and turned, his eyes widened when saw what was making the rustling. In that endless moment that all soldiers who have been in battle experience he saw everything clearly.

The "demon" was leaning up against a tree. He wasn't as intimidating as Haji had pictured to himself. In fact he looked pretty normal, if not a little chubby on the face. His lower body was a ruin though, blackened and mangled. He was pawing around the ground for something. When the "demons" hand closed on a rock he picked it up and began to throw it.

Haji shrugged to himself and squeezed the trigger on his rifle. When he stopped firing he realized two things. He had killed his first man, and proved that the "demons" were as mortal as he was. Haji carefully reloaded his rifle and continued ahead a man, where he had stopped as a boy.

[Aculaud 0]

Could have sworn it was raining, but there wasnt a cloud in the sky. The sound i heard was gunfire. The raindrops were bullets and pieces of red hot steel. With no medivac, all we could do was hold off as many on-coming enemies as we could until we either died, ran out of ammo, or something else happened that might break the spell. I didnt really have time to think about the third option.

My squad leader was behind a large rock, giving orders and firing shots when he had targets in sight. I shrunk, from the moment i landed. I was now all of about four feet tall, five at the most, keeping my head as low as possible. I made my way down to the left of where we were, to some shrubs and what appeared to be a slab of old cement. I mounted my rifles silencer to keep the muzzle flash as hidden as possible. I set up the bipod on a low rock, and started scanning. The bushes kept me hidden, while the last of a dying wall provided mild protection.

It was as if the air screamed in terror as each mortar passed through it. You just knew that each of the screams would be followed by an explosion. And you prayed that the explosion would be as far away from you as you thought the scream sounded.

The mortar teams were most likely out of sight, relying on forward observers for data on targets. I fealt it in my best interest to look for anyone with a set of binoculars. A reflection caught my attention. I tried to see anything around it that looked like a uniform, but it was very dark and shaded. Then, a wooden stock cought my view, and it was clear to me. I leveled my zero point on a spot just below the reflection and fired. The spotting scope flew out of a now bloody hand as it fell back like it was reaching out to take the airborne looking glass with it. The action on my rifle cycled, and i was back to reality. With a deep breath, i gathered myself and started looking again.

"Two-six, two-six, get your ass up here, the lieutenant's been hit!". I got moving as fast as i could while still covering myself. I tried my hardest to run back up the bank to where the rest of the men were, but the best i could mannage was a lumbering plodd as my feet sunk through the wet snow and into the sandy soil below. When i got back, i saw our medic with his hand on the lieutenants hand. The lieutenants hand was on his chest which was now growing more and more red with his blood. "I have to get him stable, but i cant move him. I need you to take his position and cover me!", he said. I nodded, and set up shop on the rock he was behind, and got cracking.

There were so many of them. Far more than i was able to see from my previous position. I didnt have time to think about artillery observers anymore. I was now holding off, with the help of our other men, what looked like a companys worth. It had occured to me that its not exactly ideal to take a position where a man was shot and nearly fatally wounded and start fighting there myself.

[Oligo 1]

The battle was raging across the landscape, which had seen enough death and misery as it is. The jagged mountainsides themselves seemed like monuments for death itself. But I had been unlucky so far in my quest for the end.

During the flow of the conflict, I was drawn up to a wreckage of a helicopter. I arrived just in time to see one of my brothers in arms empty his rifle into a wounded enemy. This man was cluthing a rock as he died, defiant up to the moment of his death. I frowned in disgust and spat on the ground, when I saw the raptured expression on the face of the young warrior now reloading his rifle. "What are you doing here, you fool", I thought: "You have left your family behind and come to kill in the name of your god. This god must be laughing when he sees more blood spilled for his amusement."

I leaned over the dead demon and closed his glassy eyes with my hand. On his face, the grimace of pain had been etched for ever. "What are you doing here, you foolish devil", I spoke silently: "Don't you have a family back home? Why have you come here to kill us? Why do you hate us so that you try to throw stones at us when you have nothing else?"

Walking towards the sounds of battle I wondered why so many men thread these paths where only those who have lost everything belong.

[Col. Kurtz 0]

It ahd all gone wrong. At first it had gone according to plan. The Royal Marines had moved into the city with minimal resistance. It had looked fine until the enemy had counter attacked in large numbers. They had incircled the city and closed off any retreat route. There were only three ways out, a breakout by force, death, or in the hands of a merciless enemy. There would be no cavalry charging off to their rescue. Maj. Doyle had asked for it, but all he got was some Colonel far removed from the action telling him that they could not spare any support for them becuase it was needed in case the US Marine attack east of their position came into trouble. Doyle had felt like crushing the radio reciever which had brought the bad news, but he refrained from it. He didn't feel like dying just yet, and there was no way he would surrender his men and himself to the cold hearted enemy. They would get out, or die trying. "Mr. MacKenzie, tell the boys to get ready to move out" he called out to his 2co, Captain MacKenzie. Doyle checked that the magazine in his Lee-Einfiled SA-80 had a good quantity of ammo in it then he ordered his men forward. The enemy had been coming at them in human waves as the Royal Marines sat in the market swaure. Now they died. The Royal Marines though their way down the cramped streets as gunfire came from all around them. If a British soldier fell, he was slung onto the back of one of his comrades and they breakout moved on. Major Doyle went in the lead of the main column.

It all worked like a well oiled machine until they came to an intersection. Here the enemy had position multiple machine guns covering the roads. Anything that moved forward would be greated by a hail of burning hot lead. Doyle crouched in the doorframe of a bullet riddle hosue and worked out what to do. The enemy were not very well trained and they were spraying the streets even no there was no targets to shoot. "When they stop to reload, throw smoke and we'll move under the cover of that!" he yelled. With no self control, the enemies emptied the belts on their Russian made m,achine guns quickly. "Now!" MacKenzie yelled and smoke grenades fell and the resulting thick white smoke hid the intire street. A few Royal Marines stayed behind to give covering fire while the main force went forward. As soon as they emerged from the smoke, grenades were hurled up onto the rooftops and the foes were killed as they franticly tried to reload. Doyle threw a grenade at a Kalishnakov wileding soldier like a rock and hit the man in the face. He was stunned for a few seconds and was blown to smitherings. The advance proceeded.

If you think this is any good, I will continue the story

[Aculaud 0]

"Iv got it! Iv stopped the bleeding!", Corporal Thomas, our medic, yelled. With that, he got beside me and helped. There was almost a baricade of dead bodies about fifty or so meters in front of us. Thomas put his M16 up on a rock and started laying down fire.

The battle was overwhelming. Every time we had to stop and re-load was an open invitation for an enemy bullet. I hadn't noticed, but all of our gunfire with the exception of a few M16's, myself and an M240 gunner had stopped. My action clicked loudly indicating my weapon was empty. I stooped down behind the rock, and reached for another magazine. I knocked it against my helmet to shake off any sand, and locked it into my rifle...and then a dead body cought my eye. Not Taliban or Al Queda...this one was ours. And then one led to another...and another and another...and another. My unit was gone.

A soldier came running over to me. "My unit is gone! Its me and our gunner! We have to leave, now!" Vasquez was alive. "Our Lieutenant is hit. He comes with us! I'll cover you." I said back. He went over to thomas and got the lieutenant back on his feet. The 101st airborne gunner had the M240 i heard. He came over to me, and we started retreating back the way the patrol first came, laying down fire as we went. I heard our medic, in between the gunfire, on his radio. "We're almost gone! Where is our air, god dammit!?"

[Cloney 0]

I kept moving, there was no way I could stop. I had my M-16 in one hand and I was dragging a screaming Marine with the other. The bullet has entered through his back and blown one of his kidneys to pieces. He kicked and screamed but I knew that I had to get to cover before I could get Corporal Thomas to tend to him. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a Taliban Militiaman scaling the pile of dead bodies

"Goldman hit the dirt!"

I raised my M4 and took aim and fired off a round, the bullet caught the Raggie in the chest but he kept coming. I squeezed the trigger again but instead of a 5.56 round I got a reassuring click. I paniced and dug through my pouches but it was too late.

Goldman spun around and clubbed the Taliban soldier in the ribcage with the stock of his M14. The Soldier wailed in pain and Goldman hit him again. It was like time froze as I watched the Marine batter the malnourished soldier with his Rifle. The wounded Marine screamed again and he fidgeted with a 9mm pistol he had in a Holster attached to his vest. I sprang for it and cocked it. I fired two consecutive rounds into the battered Taliban. He crumpled and fell on Goldman, his blood turning black as it touched the dusty soil.

Time unfroze when I realized that more bullets were wizzing by and the loud snaps seemed to be coming closer and closer. I finally dragged the wounded Marine to some cover. I reloaded my M4 and noticed that a bullet had destroyed the optical sight and the upper reciever. The Marine motioned to the M16 that was slung across his chest.

I snatched it up and went to check on Sgt. Goldman. Back into icy hell they called Tora Bora...

[Aculaud 0]

The sound of my M14 DMR was perminantly imprinted on my brain by now for sure. Second to last mag. I was backed into a small cliff face facing my former position. They were too close. I unclipped my scope, and used the iron sights. I tried as hard as i could to be accurate, but there were so many. Last round fired and tagged a raggie in the shoulder. I pulled out my 1911 and finished him, using the last rounds on another that had crept up to my right. There was no time. I grabbed the battered Taliban man's weapon and emptied it. It was enough to keep their heads down long enough to re-load my M14. I was about to fire, but something happened before i could.

Now, there had been times when i wasnt too fond of the 101st airborne, but i could have kissed Vasquez's gunner for what he did. The sound of fully automatic fire was created above me. I saw a dotted line appear on the scene in front of me. Sometimes the dots were a light brownish color, and other times the dots were dark red. He paused for a moment. "What the fuck are you waiting for, marine? Move it!". He was a corporal, but there was no time for seniority. I did exactly that. I picked up the AK47 and slung it, put my colt back in its holster, grabbed my rifle, and got up to see Vasquez coming toward me.

The three of us hauled ass back to where Lieutenant Hutchinson was laying.

[Cloney 0]

Goldman and I huslted over to where the Lt was lying. He had lost a lot of blood but fortunately.

"He looks bad" I said

"Can we move him?" Asked the SAW Gunner

Goldman knew that it would be dangerous. I slung the M16 across my back and picked up the soldier's legs. Goldman grabbed his upper torso.

"Ready?"

"Ready!"

"Henderson give us some fire!"

Goldman and I began running to where I had dropped the other wounded Marine.

Meanwhile, SAW gunner cut into the advancing Taliban infantry, round after round slammed into the rocks near him but he didn't budge. My ears were rattling from the constant roar that the M249 produced. He ducked to reload his weapons. I set the Lt's legs down and fired my M16A2 into the Taliban who were advancing now that the murderous fire had ceased. I fired three rounds, two tore into a Taliban militia man's head and blew his brain matter all over his comrades. I started to realize how much I hated this profession...

[billytran 0]

Major Richard Franklin, 101st Airborne, was racing to get his AH-64 Apache into Tora Bora. Just minutes before, the Colonel had ordered him to provide support for some of his fellow Screaming Eagles. When Franklin heard the words, "downed helicopter" his heart nearly stopped. It always hurts to hear about your fellow pilots going down. Franklin had a full load of Hellfires, FFAR's, and of course his trusty 30mm cannon. Franklin's chopper, along with the other two flanking him, screamed in over the hilltops in a wedge formation. "We got smoke up ahead," reported Franklin's gunner, Warrant Officer Dan McClay.

The three Apaches made a quick circle of the area. The smoldering UH-60 was surrounded by AQ and Taliban fighters. "McClay, light 'em up with a Hellfire!" ordered Franklin. The missile streaked to the ground and exploded, vaporizing the Black Hawk and the fighters around it.

Franklin's wingman, Lieutenant Bell came over the radio, "I can't see any of our boys... wait... there's a lot of guys under that ridge over there... they look like ours but they don't seem to be moving." Bell's chopper swooped over the men before his voice came back over the radio, "They're ours sir, but they're all dead." Franklin felt like a failure, how could he have been late? "Wait a minute, I see a couple guys running down that valley over there, they look like ours sir... SHIT!!! WE GOT AT LEAST A HUNDRED TALIBAN!!! They're about fifty yards up from our boys!!!"

"Fire at will gentleman, let's not lose these guys too," ordered Franklin. The other two Apaches fired off salvos of FFAR's as McClay opened up with the 30mm.

[Aculaud 0]

The sweat on my face soon was combined with a great gust of attack chopper propelled wind. The cold that i fealt on my face was the first time i fealt good all day. After sleeping four hours last night, loosing $230 to our grenadier in a game of poker (though i still believe the bastard was cheating), getting over run by AQ and Taliban infantry, and loosing nearly all of my unit, THIS was a sweet sense of heavenly. I closed my eyes, and pointed my face up to where the chopper was flying and let the strong breeze that followed wisk away all the dirty moisture. I opened my eyes again to see the white haze fade into fire. I saw men retreating. Men who would have surely been the end of us. I released my tense grip on the small of my rifle stock...and took a long, deep breath.

I looked around. Everyone was just standing there, catching their wind. I looked at the lieutenant. He was breathing heavily. "Alright, saddle up. We still need to get out of here. I think theres a--". I heard our medics radio. "Whoevers down there, i say again, a transport is coming for you. Stay there. Over." Thomas adjusted his headset. "We copy, who is this, over?" "This is Major Richard Franklin, your friendly neighborhood airstrike, assuring you we have your asses covered. Just sit tight. Out!"

[PHY_Hawkeye 0]

We were moving along the Eastern flank of the battle at about 200ft, myself and my wingman Ltn. Woods. The rear of my UH-1N was empty, save for my door gunner and my crewchief, Gunnery Sergeant Martin Lewis; Woods' was carring a squad of grunts, they would secure the LZ while our boys got abord. I looked out the window, those Apaches were cooking up one hell of a firestorm. Then the Radio came to life again:

"Captain Clarke, this is Major Franklin, we can keep these raggies busy now, get in there and get our guys out. Over."

I responded immediatly, while pushing forward on the cyclic and easing off on the collective to lose some altitude; "Recieved Major, we're inbound, eta 30 seconds. Out" We swooped in low and raced toward the Marines and Airborne who had been fighing so hard, at least, what was left of them. They wern't hard to spot, a small group seperated from the ocean of enemies. I flicked the Master Arm switch and gave Lewis and my door gunner the green light, they immideatly began raining hot death unpon the enemy below. As we raced on, my heart jumped out of my chest as an RPG roared past the front windshield, we flew through its contrail; a second later and it would have been 'goodnight Gracie.'

We came in over the heads of the friendlies and pulled left into a slide to bleed off our speed. As we did so, Lewis dropped a couple of smokes out of the door to mask the LZ. The skids hit hard on the deck, Woods' Huey set down in front of mine and the Marines began to disembark, running towards the smoke which had landed about 50 meters to our left. Lewis grabbed an M4 and headed for the smoke as well, to guide the tired men to the right helo.

We waited........

[Cloney 0]

Well thats a beautiful site to behold. The Huey helicopter had been phased out of general service by the time I entered the 101, I'd only ridden in Blackhawks and a few chinooks. I never thought I'd see the inside of a Huey helicopter, let alone a Marine one. I figure in a flight suit and kevlar helmet emerged from the smokey clouds.

"Gunnery Sergaent Martin Lewis, United States Marine Corp. We're here to take you and your outfit home."

For the first time today I forced a smile. He was like a godsend. A ride home. Another Huey whizzed over and unloaded another squad who hastily began loading the dead dead American Soldiers into the chopper. I fell to tears.

Even in my years in the Barrios I had never seen such a sad sight. American youth, few older than 20, cut down in the flower of their youth. I watched misty eyed as they loaded Pvt Kelly's limp body into the chopper. He was only 19 years old. The five of us had survived unsermountable odds. Sgt Goldman USMC, Pvt. Mike Henderson USA, My SAW gunner, Corporal Horatio Thomas USA, the Medic and finally Pvt Samuel E Watts USMC, who later recovered from his wounds.

The ride home was quiet. None of us will forget what happened in that Mountain Clearing in Tora Bora. I will never forget Goldman's squad who kept us alive. Nor will I forget the Apache pilot who saved us from being captured and killed.

I will never forget Gunny Lewis' figure running through the thick smoke like the hand of God.

This war was far from over. I was only 22 years old and I knew there was a hell of a lot more war coming.

[Cloney 0]

*bump*

[Col. Kurtz 0]

Death.

The bodies were spread out around the valley like confete. Every time the wind blew down the sharp valley in a concentrated gust, the baggy clothing the dead soldiers wore flapped in the wind, but the bodies themsleves were motionless. The bodies had only been there an hour after the brutal fight, and at the moment only the smell of recently shed blood could be smelt. Soon though, would come the dreaded smell of rotting corpses, the decaying of skin.

Death.

[Cloney 0]

Well, unless Acualaud wants to add something. I'd like to compile this thing and post it as a whole so people on the forums can read the entire thingy contiguously

[DarkLight 0]

</span><table border="0" align="center" width="95%" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="1"><tr><td>Quote (Col. Kurtz @ Sep. 14 2002,17:45)</td></tr><tr><td id="QUOTE">Death.

The bodies were spread out around the valley like confete. Every time the wind blew down the sharp valley in a concentrated gust, the baggy clothing the dead soldiers wore flapped in the wind, but the bodies themsleves were motionless. The bodies had only been there an hour after the brutal fight, and at the moment only the smell of recently shed blood could be smelt. Soon though, would come the dreaded smell  of rotting corpses, the decaying of skin.

Death.<span id='postcolor'>

That looks professional!

[PHY_Hawkeye 0]

We should put up this kind of topic more often. This story is great.