It was a beautiful day as winter slid into spring. The birds were singing; whenever the birds sang, it meant that it was safe. This is what the vehicle commander kept telling himself in an attempt to bring about a sense of security, even though it probably was not true. The wind was carrying the scent of wet mud across the fields of budding wheat. The farmers were in their fields, toiling against the weeds and stoppages in the irrigation; it was non-stop work. You could often see their lights well into the night. The squad was on a quick run to the outpost to drop off replacement computer cables to the COP (Command Outpost) that they had recently established in the center of a small village sandwiched between the desert and an enormous mountain. The wind, rain, dust, and the harshness of living out of the vehicles in the midst of the austere desert environment was very hard on the sensitive electronic equipment. All of their equipment was either broken or breaking. The trees were beginning to bud along the road that led to the small village's bazaar. It was almost spring, and that meant it was getting closer to going home; at least closer than yesterday. As they drove down the road, children began pouring out of their huts in the hopes that the Marines would hand them an MRE or a piece of candy. The vehicle commander, Second Lieutenant Andor Kellogg keyed the intercom. “Slow down a bit Corporal. Don’t want to run anyone over today.” “Aye aye sir.” the corporal obeyed as she eased off the accelerator. They had both witnessed a boy no older than four run over earlier in the deployment and had no desire to repeat that incident. Somehow, the boy had survived; his destiny was not to die that day; maybe he would discover the cure for cancer, or more than likely, he would enlist in the holy war against the infidels. Back home Lieutenant Kellogg was considered by many to be an optimist. However, in this war torn country it was hard to be optimistic. The daily doses of death, suffering, hate, and misery had all but killed that character trait long ago. "When did I become such a pessimist?" he muttered to himself outloud without realizing it. "Excuse me, Sir?" the driver half-yelled over the whining engine, snapping him from his trance. "Oh, nothing Corporal. Just thinking out loud." "Roger that, sir." They were riding in an armored beast of a truck known as the Mine Resistant Ambush Protected All Terrain Vehicle or M-ATV. The vehicle was old and rickety a relic from a bygone era. Still the entire company was lucky to be outfitted with them. It beat the hell out of walking everywhere. The children swarmed up to the edge of the road and stared expectantly at the Marines behind the bullet and explosion-resistant glass. It was amazing how these people scratched out what some would call an existence along the banks of the river that cut through a mighty desert that had swallowed the Mongol hordes and before them the armies of Alexander the Great. The gunner manning the M2 Browning .50 caliber machine gun mounted in the turret on top of the vehicle was the only Marine exposed, and he reached into his cargo pocket and tossed a handful of Werther's Originals to the kids lining the road. There was a mad dash for the candy. One young girl caught Kellogg's eye. Her smile so full of joy it reminded him of his younger sister. The girl who could have been no older than four or maybe five hurriedly bent over to collect the candy. ![[sweetChild-i4.jpg]] _Who decided who was born where and with what opportunities?_ Lieutenant Kellogg thought to himself as he watched the kids greedily tear open the candies. If it was God, one could not help but think he was cruel. That girl would grow up only to be sold like cattle as a wife to the highest bidder. She would probably be forbidden to go to school, and if she dared to, she would most likely be killed or worse, be burned with acid for her “crime”. *Now how is that for chance? Geez, I am such a pessimist! I have to stop thinking like this.* Lieutenant Kellogg thought as he shook his head, which prompted an odd look from the driver. He noticed the sideways glance and pretended to swat away a bug to mask his odd behavior.  _I’m fucking tired…_  "Watch your dispersion as we pass through the village," Kellogg keyed the mic. There were four vehicles in the resupply convoy. He keyed the mike to make a joke, but there was a man coming out of the mosque, and something did not look right. Instead he keyed the switch to the intercom. "Gunner eyes right - brown burka exiting the mosque." The gunner swiveled and trained the machine gun on the individual. They were approaching fast - too fast. Suddenly the man broke into a run towards the vehicle and raised his arms above his head. "Gunner engage!" Kellogg screamed. The gunner opened up with the .50 cal. The sound of the machine gun fire raked through the narrow streets of the small village. The driver slammed on the brakes, but it was too late. The man exploded in a huge fireball barely fifteen feet from their vehicle. The force of the explosion threw Kellogg into his jump seat. The concussion and sound of the explosion reached him before the smoke had even begun billowing into the sky. The vehicle slid to a stop in the smoke and dust. He felt something hard fall against his back, and he turned. It was his gunner, Lance Corporal Tucker, and blood was gushing from his neck. His driver, Corporal McDonald's, head was resting against the steering wheel. He reached over and felt his driver's pulse. She was alive and breathing just knocked out from the concussion and probably from hitting her head on the steering wheel. His ears were ringing. He could not really hear anything. Then suddenly his hearing returned with a roar. He felt as if he had been hit by a huge wave. _What is that smell?!_ Kellogg turned to the backseat. Sergeant Chase, the company radio technician, was holding his head. _What is that noise?_ It sounded like someone walking across a bed of soda cans. _We are under fire!_ The Lieutenant realized bile rising in the back of his throat. He suppressed the desire to vomit. "Sergeant! Sergeant!" Kellogg screamed, shaking Chase's shoulder. Sergeant Chase snapped out of his daze and looked at him. You could see the rage in his eyes. "Get on that machine gun NOW!" Sergeant Chase stood up and stepped into the turret and turned the machine gun towards the rooftop where they could both clearly see the muzzle flashes and opened up with the .50 cal. The bullets tore through the mud and brick of the building only thirty feet to their left flank. Blazing hot bullet casings began raining down inside the vehicle and burned Kellogg's neck, but he did not attempt to remove them, he was still in shock. He ripped open his med kit and tore open the QuickClot Gauze pack and pressed it against his gunner's neck. With his free hand, he grabbed the radio mic. "All vics, this is Blue-1 actual - enemy contact to my 11 o'clock, 10 meters out. Heavy machine gun fire following suicide bomber attack. Break... Blue 4 (which was the tail end vehicle, in the convoy's, call sign) I need you to push around on the left flank, deploy your fire team to clear. Break... Blue 3 I have two Marines down, bring up the corpsman. How copy all my last? Over" Kellogg yelled into the radio. "Black 4 copies..." "Blue 3 copies..." "Blue 2 copies preparing 9 line Casevac (casualty evacuation)." "Blue 2 be advised two Marines down. One unconscious due to the blast. One is bleeding out. Neck wound. I am applying pressure with QuickClot. Get the corpsman up here NOW!" Blue 4 turned hard off the road into a shallow dry canal. The tires spun, throwing up dirt as they fought for traction. The vehicle rammed a mud brick wall on the other side of the canal, and it fell as if it were made from toothpicks. The vehicle disappeared into the courtyard. Blue-1 actual's vehicle was filled with smoke, and his eyes were burning. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to look. It was Blue 4 on the other side of the canal. The Blue 4 gunner was manning a Mark 19, an automatic grenade launcher, and he was pumping high explosive grenades into the building that the enemy machine gun fire was coming from. The fire team deployed from the vehicle, firing their personal weapons at the building as they ran for cover. Kellogg heard several bangs as the Marines tossed hand grenades into the building.Then he there was a loud bang against his door. Startled he spun around reaching, instinctively for his rifle. His focus had been mainly on stopping the bleeding from his gunner's neck and directing the counter-attack through his handheld radio. He had not noticed anyone approaching the vehicle's right side. Thankfully, it was HM2 Jones, the platoon's corpsman. With a sigh of relief he opened the door, and HM2 Jones climbed in. The corpsman only looked at at Tucker for a second before grabing him by his flak jacket and pulled him from the vehicle. Kellogg turned and reached over the center console and grabbed his driver and pulled her into his lap. The corpsman was crouched over Tucker, who was lying on the ground, blood staining the pale sand. Kellogg's Platoon Sergeant, Staff Sergeant Smith, ran over to the open door and grabbed the unconscious Marine in Kellogg's lap and lowered her to the ground. He was saying yelling unintelligibly but with the explosions and machine gun fire in the background he couldn't understand. As he slid out of the destroyed truck he reached into the cab of the M-ATV and pulled out his M4. The fire team from Blue 4 stacked up on the front door of the compound where the enemy machine gun fire was coming from, preparing to enter. The gunners on top of the vehicles continued to rake the top floor with suppressing fire. The firepower was so strong that part of the roof collapsed because the swiss-cheese wall could no longer support its weight. Kellogg turned to his platoon sergeant, "We need to secure the perimeter. Get me a sniper to provide overwatch on top of that building." he screamed a little too loud, but only because he couldn't hear, pointing towards the tallest building across the street. "Also, we need to get an LZ setup." "Already done, Sir, I had Red 1 clear and hold a field 100 meters down the road, and I deployed Blue 2 to the rooftop with the Barrett .50 cal." "Thank you, Staff Sergeant. I’ll talk the birds in.” “Negative sir. Sergeant Chase is on it. He's already on comms with them now." Before he could protest there was a horrendous roar and he spun around just in time to see a Marine F-35, barely a hundred feet above the deck, buzz the village, passing directly overhead before pulling up into a barrel roll. The wingman was only a few seconds behind. The rush of euphoria, knowing that air support was on the scene, was very reassuring, and Kellogg knew that the enemy had most definitely lost the upper hand.  Suddenly the battlefield grew quiet. The dichotomy of warfare replaced with only the wind was stark and eerie. “Blue 4 actual this is Blue 1 actual. What is your status?” “Blue 1 actual be advised fire team cleared the building. Four enemy KIA. No friendlies wounded. Looks like we tore up an IED factory.” “Roger that Blue 4.” A few moments later two medevac helicopters crested the top of the nearby sand dunes. The _whomp_ _whomp_ of their rotors cut through the quiet that had descended on the small valley after the Harriers' low pass. They circled the destroyed vehicle, flares spewing from their underbellies as the M-ATV's IED jamming frequencies set off their Surface to Air evasion alarms. Several of the flares struck stands of dry grass, starting small fires. The smoke curled in the air as the rotor wash tore through the dust and smoke. The lead Blackhawk landed, and Kellogg stooped and grabbed one corner of the stretcher. Staff Sergeant Smith fireman carried the driver, who had only just regained consciousness; they were not taking any chances; she was going on the bird despite her protests to the contrary. They ran towards the helicopter, the sand blasting their faces, and the deafening roar of rotors drowning out the screams of the gunner who had just regained consciousness. Once the lieutenant had loaded his two wounded Marines on the Blackhawk, he turned around and ran back to his shredded vehicle. He didn't get far though before he took a knee, removed his blood soaked Kevlar, and vomited into the dust. ### Next Chapter: [[5 - Tremors 🫦]] ### Previous Chapter: [[3 - A Most Unexpected Day 💞]]