by Gus Frazer
The day after the mission, the squad rested, sleeping for most of the day. It was now dark at base camp. Finn had just finished preparing the evening’s meal of chicken, pasta and vegetables. They took turns to prepare the meals. It was a ridiculously easy chore. The SFR, or squad field ration, was a ready-made, long-life meal for nine. The simple, rectangular box contained everything needed for a meal — just rip the tab off at the bottom and a chemical reaction immediately heated it up. Ten minutes later, open the top and the piping-hot meal was ready to be served. It actually tasted good, too. The US army had spent millions on the technology, as they recognised how important a good hot meal was for morale when out in the field. The only trouble was it had very low nutritional value, due to the long-life nature of the contents. So, to supplement their diet, they all had to take ‘nutrient-rich paste’ — or NuRiP, as they called it. Technically, they could live off NuRiP and water alone for months, but no one wanted to test that theory.
Finn couldn’t sleep that night. He kept running through the mission in his head, analysing everything he’d done and seen. He tried to recount everything, every detail, but his mind wasn’t being so forthcoming. Flashes came to him, recollections of smells, light, movement, blood and, most of all, the sense of crippling fear. He remembered watching as the others stood and ran forward as he lay on his stomach. He remembered finally getting up and running forward. It was like his legs were made of hardwood, they were so slow and clumsy. He remembered shooting at people, shapes, shadows and muzzle flashes. He remembered Higgins and the way he put his boot on the dying soldier’s chest and shot him in the head. But one image was more vivid than the others. One image kept replaying in his mind over and over. He couldn’t get it out of his head, and he didn’t think a Nightcap would be the healthiest way to sort out how he was feeling.
He stepped outside into the cool night air and was surprised to find Higgins out there, sitting on a rock and staring out into the distance.
Finn approached him hesitantly. ‘Sir …?’
‘Hunt, what are you doing up at this hour?’ Higgins said, turning to Finn. Finn was worried he’d get a bollocking from the sergeant for interrupting him, but it seemed like he didn’t mind. He seemed more mellow than usual.
Finn decided to try to get what he was thinking about off his chest. ‘Sir, how do you feel about … killing people?’ he asked, cringing at how idiotic the question sounded before it was even fully out of his mouth. Hoping to save a bit of face, he rushed on. ‘I mean, you’ve obviously been through a lot, seen a lot. I can’t even imagine how many kills you’ve had.’
The silence continued so absolutely that Finn momentarily questioned if he’d spoken at all. But then Higgins sharply took in a breath, and began to speak.
‘You strike me as the kind of guy who’s used to being successful, Hunt,’ he said. It was such a non sequitur that Finn jerked his head around involuntarily to stare at Higgins. He could only see Higgins’ profile in the moonlight — his voice sounded almost disembodied. The voice continued, ‘Killing a certain number of people is not a great way to define success for yourself. Having a certain number of kills under your belt is not all it’s cracked up to be.’ There was a long pause. Finally, Higgins turned his head, staring directly at Finn. His eyes glinted in the moonlight. ‘I don’t have any regrets. I don’t look backwards, and I don’t know any different. But I wouldn’t recommend this life to someone who had other options.’
Another long pause rang out in the silence. Finally Higgins nodded once, sharply, and got up from the rock and went back into the cave.
Finn stood out there in the darkness for a long time. Finally, he decided to email Chris.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
SUBJECT: You’re the knob
AUTHORISATION: CENSORSHIP PENDING
Hey mate,
Thanks for the note and I’m sorry about what happened at the Sheaf. And, yes, I know I owe you fifty but you’ll have to wait. Actually, it’ll be a miracle if I ever get to pay you back ... the way things are going here. I was in a proper firefight the other day. It was crazy and, to be honest, I was scared shitless. As soon as the shots started firing everything around me went into high speed but I was still moving and thinking in slow motion. It’s the strangest thing.
I did get a kill though. Probably more than one, but I only remember one. It was crazy, mate. I can still see this guy’s face. He was running away from me and as he turned to see me I saw his eyes. I lined him up and shot him in the back, landed a couple of rounds in him. He went down real quick in a spray of blood. He twitched for a bit and I just stood there staring. Can’t believe I wasn’t shot myself. Anyway, it was fucking crazy and I’m glad it’s over now.
I feel a bit bad about killing. But I mostly feel bad about not doing more. Like I let the others down. They were awesome mate. You should have seen them, they moved like animals hunting, especially our Sarge, he’s a real warrior. Next mission I’m going to be more switched on, more like him. I really feel like I let them down, though they all reckon I did well for my first mission.
Well mate, I can’t wait to get back and go for a steak and a beer at Woolloomooloo (and give you your fifty back)! We’ve been out here for ages now and it’s really starting to get to me. The heat, the dust and the constant worry about being attacked. It’s so mad, you’re either bored senseless or completely crapping yourself. There’s nothing really in between. Anyway, enough of my babbling...
Take it easy,
Finn
Chapter 13
The squad had been in the cave for nearly two months now, having completed six gruelling missions and losing McCaw to enemy fire in the process. They were tired, frayed and despondent. Every day, the conversation returned again and again to the futility of their attacks. They saw time and again just how efficiently the Chinese forces could rebuild any damage they might inflict.
‘Gather round men, we have new orders,’ Higgins called.
The men gathered, standing and crouching in a circle outside the cave in the morning sunlight, the air still, cool and crisp.
‘All right, guys. We’re going to break camp today and move out to the north,’ started Higgins, interrupted by cheers from some of them. ‘Okay, quiet down,’ Higgins said, his hands motioning for everyone to calm down. ‘I know you’re all happy to be moving out. Our orders are to move north-west, a 150 clicks east of a town called Duchess. The Chinese rail line goes through Duchess, Mount Isa and then on to Karumba where they’re exporting the minerals. We will create a base camp and from there we will be given our objective. Transportation will be arriving tonight, so we will need to break camp immediately. Questions?’
Finn put up his hand. ‘Sarge, what’s the transportation?’
‘We will be extracted tonight by chopper and flown to a rendezvous point to the west. From there we will be issued with three light-armed vehicles, which we will use to locate a base camp. Anything else?’
‘What are we doing with all the gear here?’ asked Carver.
‘We leave everything except your personal kit. Everything goes in the cave and we do a thorough electronic wipe-down of the whole valley — I want no trace of our being here. Understood?’ replied Higgins.
A chorus of ‘Yessirs’ came from the men.
‘Right, get to work then,’ said Higgins, clapping his hands once.
That night the sound of the beating rotors was like music to Finn’s ears. They had been disconnected from the world for so long that the chopper seemed like an outstretched hand pulling them back to civilisation.
Finn stood beside Carver as the huge, modified Blackhawk troop carrier came in slowly to land. Nothing could be heard above the roar of the engines. Higgins waved his arm, signalling the men to board. Finn noticed that overhead there were at least two other choppers, probably Apaches, to cover the Blackhawk. On board, they took their seats and buckled in, dust flying in the open sides in waves and covering
them from head to toe. Finn lifted off his goggles to look back on where their camp had been, now devoid of any trace of their presence — the cave again just a crack in the rock face. He was suddenly stricken with the realisation that all they’d managed to do while there had been completely undone by the Chinese. All the fighting, the struggling, losing McCaw — they may as well have never been there. The powerful engines revved and they slowly lifted off the ground, rotors straining to gain height.
It felt good to be moving. Nobody bothered to talk over the noise. Finn looked around at the other men and saw tired but relieved faces. The vibrations and movement lulled him into a sleep despite the roar of wind and machine.
They landed just outside of Duchess. The town had been taken over by the military, but everyone wore civilian clothes and the vehicles were almost all civilian. It was a way of keeping the Chinese less suspicious about the tiny town. It was in fact a hub for a number of military operations in the region. The squad was given a two-day rest to clean up, eat well and bandage their frayed nerves. They were informed that Lieutenant Taylor was to stay in Duchess and Higgins would take command of the team, which was fine by everyone.
After two days’ rest, Finn felt stronger than ever and was already looking forward to some action. While he’d started to admit to himself that he had doubts about the effectiveness of what they were doing, that didn’t stop him from wanting to help out his mates in action. Somewhere during his time in the cave, without him really realising it, he’d started fighting for his mates, not for himself.
They received a thorough briefing of the mission and how it would fit into the overall coordinated attack on the Chinese. They learned that General Stephens was planning an all-out attack on multiple targets, all designed to wreak havoc on the Chinese transportation lines. Simultaneous with their mission, there would be joint operations by what was left of the navy and air force. They were not told what the other missions were, only that they would be part of a coordinated joint attack.
A further three days of training in high explosives gave the men more time to physically recover from the previous few months. Finn found it therapeutic to have something to think about, to learn, even if it was learning how to blow up things — or people.
Three nights later they prepared the vehicles, loading up their supplies and equipment. They were issued with three Canadian-built Conquest Knight XX Light Tactical Vehicles. Despite having the word ‘light’ in their names, the ‘Connies’, as they called them, were hulking great trucks. Armoured and armed, they were an awesome vehicle for extreme landscapes like the outback.
The plan was not to stay at a remote camp for as long this time, but they had to be prepared for any eventuality. At 0100 hours they fired up the three Connies and headed out of the town. The driving was slow and rough and took a long time, as they were only able to travel at night and, when they were travelling, they had to stop every few hours while the satellites passed overhead. Two nights later they reached their operations base. Spirits were high and the men felt like a cohesive unit again — even Private Samuels, McCaw’s replacement, now fitted in seamlessly. Finn always felt safe around his squad-mates, especially Higgins, who’d proven to his men over the past months that he was a warrior and a survivor.
With the base communications and defences set up, Higgins gathered the men around the bonnet of one of the Connies, under the shade of a thermo-tent pitched over the top. They had received their mission objective.
Higgins stood with hands on hips. ‘Okay boys, you’re gonna like this: as you know, we’re part of an all-out offensive on the Chinese. Our target is of strategically high importance to the Chinese. So, we’re going to blow it to bits.’
A few sniggers and wry looks were exchanged at this news.
Higgins continued. ‘Our target is a bridge, 120 metres high, that crosses a river valley north-west of our position — about 30 clicks over hard terrain.’
‘Will it be guarded, Sarge?’ asked Bull.
‘I’m getting there, Bull. Yes, it will be guarded. We will need to approach the target under darkness,’ Higgins said, pointing now at the mapscreen on the bonnet of the Connie. ‘The way I see it is we position snipers here and here to cover a smaller team that comes down either side of the bridge on the western bank.’
‘What’s the design of the bridge, Sarge?’ asked Finn.
‘Here are photos and schematics of the bridge.’ Higgins turned on a projector that flashed the images in front of the men. ‘It’s an old truss bridge, single rail track, built back in 1963. All we need to do is correctly place and detonate charges on one end of the bridge. That will cause it to give way and slide into the valley and river below.’
There were nods all round as the men took in the plan.
‘If it’s such an important asset, what defence can we expect?’ asked Finn.
‘Our intel suggests we can expect medium resistance, probably a platoon, two at the most — and likely to be based on the eastern side of the bridge where there is easier access to the river below.’
Finn was surprised that such an important asset would only be defended by a single platoon. Surely, thought Finn, the Chinese must have increased their security in the last few months — what with all the attacks they had been conducting? Something about it didn’t feel right.
Something else was on Finn’s mind, too. His mouth opened before he had a chance to stop himself. ‘Sarge, what’s the point of these attacks? We’ve been blowing up their trains, roads and camps for months and every time they just build more,’ he was egged on by nods from the other men. ‘It all seems pointless.’
Higgins shifted, putting his hands back to his hips. ‘Hunt, you’re a soldier. You don’t question “why?” you only question “how?”. Am I clear?’ he said gruffly.
‘Yes, Sarge — crystal,’ replied Finn, feeling like a schoolkid being scolded by a teacher.
Higgins looked around, daring anyone else to ask a question. ‘All right, then. Get yourselves organised, we’re moving out at 0100 hours tonight.’
Bull turned to walk away with Finn. ‘Mate, it’s all a bunch of bollocks. He’s right, though: all you ask is how, how you’re gonna stay alive, so that once it’s all over you can ask someone in Canberra “why the fuck?”’
Finn smiled ruefully, nodding his head. ‘’Spose you’re right, mate.’
That night they drove the Connies to within five kilometres of the bridge and then set out on foot. The air was cold and the lack of a moon made it dark as hell. Finn walked silently, bent at the knees, rifle held across his chest. He was sweating despite the cold, which created a clammy, shivery layer of moisture over his skin. His mind was unsettled and he couldn’t stop thinking that something wasn’t right about this mission. Creeping further away from the Connies and closer to the bridge, Finn felt more nervous than on any of the previous missions. The eerie view through the night-vision goggles didn’t help settle his nerves, either.
In front of him he could just make out the silhouette of Higgins, who was leading them through the thick scrub. Higgins had stopped, with his right arm raised, fist clenched in a ball, staring straight ahead.
Finn froze and stared at Higgins, who slowly crouched. Everyone followed Higgins’ lead and crouched down. Straining his ears, Finn tried to hear beyond the sound of the rhythmic chorus of the frogs, which filled the night.
Still in a crouch, Higgins looked back and waved the others forward to his position. Without a word, Higgins used hand signals to send Dave and Jessop, the snipers, out to their positions, and the rest of the squad to follow him down the hill towards the bridge.
Through the scrub the lights of the bridge could be seen, bright and sparkling — the Chinese, thought Finn, were making no attempt to be covert about the bridge. It was so brightly lit it was almost challenging them, tempting them to come closer.
Moving more slowly now, they crept through the scrub to a point where the bush stopped and grass began. They could see the tra
in track to their left, and directly ahead was the bridge.
The plan was for Higgins and Bull to go it alone from here, running forward and placing the explosive charges on the bridge. The others would cover them if they were spotted.
Finn watched as Higgins and Bull ran forward silently, crouching low to minimise their profiles. They disappeared into the darkness, beyond the power of Finn’s night-vision. He crouched down and leaned against a tree for support, his rifle trained on the dark ground ahead.
The minutes seemed like hours. Higgins and Bull had attached the explosives and were on the return journey when suddenly Finn heard voices speaking in Chinese. They were coming from the left. He immediately realised it must be a patrol, walking along the train track towards the bridge. At the same time, Higgins and Bull ran right into them. Higgins stopped, looked up and without any hesitation lifted his RG and started firing, the plasma discharge lighting up the end of his barrel. The Chinese hit the ground, some dead, some alive.
‘Blow it!’ yelled Higgins at the top of his lungs, before launching into a sprint for the bushline.
All hell broke loose. The Chinese were yelling, returning fire on Bull and Higgins, who were both legging it to the cover of the scrub. Finn and the others began laying down suppression fire on the patrol.
Carver was fumbling with the remote detonator. After what seemed an eternity, he finally hit the button. The explosion was nothing spectacular, just a dull thud and massive shock wave that made everyone’s ears pop. This was followed closely by the torturous scream of metal bending and warping and, finally, the crashing sound of the bridge collapsing.
Higgins and Bull were still running towards them under furious enemy fire. Finn and the others were returning it just as liberally. The two snipers were devastating but the Chinese outnumbered them at least three to one.
Higgins threw himself into the shrub near Finn, rolling over and into a crouch with lightning speed, immediately opening fire on the Chinese who were moving up on their position.
