by Micah Gurley
The Rise of Macon
by
Micah Gurley
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Prologue - Iraq 2007
"Attention private."
Neil dropped his green duffel bag on the dirt and sprung to attention. Back straight, eyes front, fingers along his pants seem.He didn't move a muscle, barely breathing as he heard footsteps approach from behind.
"Sloppy private, very sloppy. I expect better from a boot!"
"Yes, Sir!" Neil screamed, keeping his eyes forward.
Neil heard footsteps pass around him, and caught a glimmer of a man moving to his front. Beads of sweat streaked down his face, as he stood like a statue, not daring to wipe them off. A tear dripped into his eye, the saltiness stinging him, but he didn’t close the eye, didn’t flinch. He was master of his body.
"Sir? Sir? Don’t they teach rates and ranks at Paris Island anymore? Inexcusable! Disgusting! Sorriest example of a marine that I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen some things, son."
Another man joined the first, just keeping out of Neil’s line of sight. Neil couldn’t make out any details, though he tried desperately to see as much as he could, without actually moving his eyes. He considered taking a quick glance, but he’d been caught too many times to chance it. He kept his eyes straight.
"And look at the uniform!"the second man barked."Why those folds are in the wrong place! His boots have scuff marks on them and he’s only been in the country thirty minutes! How’d that happen Private? Did you meet some insurgents on the way from the plane?"
"No…"Now, Neil had a problem. The first man said he wasn’t an officer, but Neil couldn’t tell his rank, or that of the second man. The Private’s hesitation and stutter easily caught the attention of the two men.
"No, no... nooo. What’s wrong with you private? I expect marines to be able to talk correctly!"
"That’ll be enough Sergeant,"a third voice said, this one calmer and less mocking.
The two men, who’d been on either side of Neil, immediately stood to attention at the sound of the new voice.
"Yes, Sir. Just giving the new private first class a warm welcome to the fold, sir."
"Yes, I heard, let’s see if we can push it along.We have convoy duty in two hours, Staff Sergeant"The Lieutenant turned to an older man who had walked up with him.“Could you make sure everything’s in order?“
"No problem LT. It'll be taken care of,"responded the Staff Sergeant. He waited, let the Lieutenant walk off, and then turned to the two jokers, who both squirming a little. His eyes continued from them to the young private and he scowled."At ease, Private."
Neil stiffly, and promptly, fell into the position. He interlocked his hands behind his back, still looking forward.
"You two idiots,"growled the Staff Sergeant, "get to clean the windshields on the trucks before we start. Get to it!"
Mumbles and complaints followed the two soldiers, both walking angrily to the motor pool. The staff sergeant faced the young private, who hadn’t moved an inch since he assumed the new position.
"Well private, "the Staff Sergeant said, "that’s not how we normally greet new people, but those two ... well, they’re special."
"Yes, Staff Sergeant!" yelled Neil, causing the Staff sergeant to wince.
"Okay, Neil, "the sergeant said, taking a look at the young man’s name tag."You’re not in boot camp or MOS school anymore. Calm down. No screaming or yelling like that, got it? And can call me Sergeant Hicks."
"Yes, Staff Sergeant,"Neil responded, this time with a lower tone. He shook the hand offered to him.
Hicks stepped back from the young private and took a closer look at him. The private's uniform and boots were ironed, polished and creased so well he looked like he stepped out of a recruiting commercial. Even his cap, which seemed to be ironed, sat at the perfect angle on his head.
"This kid was really going to stick out,"thought Hicks.
"Okay, let’s get you settled, and then we have to report for a run this evening. "The sergeant started off and Neil quickly grabbed his duffel and started after the sergeant.
Neil wasn’t mad at the two jokers.They were having a bit of fun, it was expected after all. His excitement and joy at being here couldn’t be ruined by that or anything else. He’d spent his whole life getting ready for the Marines. When others in boot camp complained and talked of home, Neil smiled and tried to act like he agreed, but he didn’t. He loved boot camp! The drills, the discipline, the fighting, he even loved the drill instructors. They were making him better, right? Neil had a hard time wondering why everybody didn’t join the Marines.
Neil was a third generation marine, following his grandfather and father in the honorable service. He’d been raised on stories of courage, honor and sacrifice for their brothers and sisters. He craved to be in those stories, to storm beaches and live the life of a Marine. No, he wasn’t mad at those guys, they were his brothers, and sometimes brothers gave each other a hard time.
Neil looked around, eyes wide, as they walked through the marine base to his barracks. Everything was just as he had imagined. Brown colored, Marine style tents were set up in a row and marked in an orderly fashion, while marines walked to their various tasks. Neil could hear the sounds of trucks and tanks, running and smoking in the distance, preparing for battle. The sound of home.
Neil didn’t notice the extreme heat or irritating wind that blew through the camp, throwing up dirt and grit in people eyes, hair and clothes. He didn't see hardship, suffering or obstacles, but glory and valor.
They stopped by a long, rectangular brown tent, sitting at the end of a long row of tents.
"This one's yours. Grab an empty bunk, stow your gear and report to the mess hall to get something to eat. After that, we'll have our briefing. You've got thirty minutes. Got it?"
"Yes sergeant," answered Neil, lowering his voice in mid-sentence. It was a tough habit to break, and to add to that, he was just plain excited.
"Good," the sergeant said and turned to go. He stopped, "And Private, a bit of advice, change uniforms, you look like Sunday morning, and that doesn't fit around here."
Neil smiled, "Yes, Sergeant."
The sergeant nodded, without a smile, turned and walked away. Neil could barely suppress his glee as he entered the tent. It was dark and cooler inside the tent. Four cots lay on both sides of a small aisle that ran thought the middle. Far from being orderly, the tent was a mess, something which threw Neil off for a few minutes. It didn't fit into his idea of being a marine. Everything should be orderly and in place, maximum efficiency, though it wasn't his job to criticize, but to learn.
Neil changed and exited the barracks, in a hurry to get to the mess hall. He slowed his pace, not wanting to seem overeager. Nobody liked that guy. Once inside the mess tent, he grabbed a cotton candy colored plastic tray, placed it on the rack in front of him and moved down the line to collect his food. He glanced at the food and smiled, he loved marine food.
Neil sat at an empty table and began to dig into his food, when two large men dropped their trays across from him. He looked up to see both of them wearing large goofy grins.
"Hey there private, mind if we join you?" asked a voice Neil recognized. His would-be tormentors. Neil smiled and waved a hand to the seats they were standing beside. The two men sat down and kept looking at Neil, who resumed eating.
"Hey man, we were just messing earlier. Just having some fun. You looked all clean and squared away; we couldn't just let it go."
"No problem sergeant." Neil said, smiling at the two men, "I was just surprised is all, I didn't get a good look at you two. I actually thought it was two women talking to me."
The sergeant's smile faded, recognition dawning at the answer. The other man busted up laughing and slapped his friend. "He got us there Sergeant." He reached his mitt sized hand across the small table."I'm Blank. Dave Blank. Neil smiled and shook the man's hand. Dave had a firm grip, which made sense, since he was a collection of muscles that left little room for anything else. He stood just a few inches taller than Neil but must have outweighed him by about 100 pounds. The guy was intimidating, but wore a huge smile you couldn't help but like.
"Alright Blank, don't get married to him the first time you meet." The sergeant looked at Neil and smiled. "I guess you're all right for a boot. I'm Sergeant Corbett. Welcome to the shit! Now, let's finish eating and get to the briefing. You can hang with us, we'll steer you clear of any problems."
Neil watched the two men dig into their food like they were on a mission. He felt great, already welcomed into the brotherhood. He'd actually heard that retort about woman from another guy in school, but no need to tell that to these guys. He adapted and overcame. Now, he was ready.
Neil tagged along as they made their way to the briefing. Introductions were made, crude gestures given and Neil met the rest of the platoon. Attention was called and a Captain walked briskly through the middle aisle to the front. He took a step behind the podium, calling out “At ease” in a commanding voice.
The men, all quiet now, took a seat and kept their eyes on their commanding officer. Neil immediately had a man-crush on the captain. He was older, maybe in his thirties, with a tight hair cut that showed graying hair. His face consisted of hard lines and determination. His eyes, bright and piercing, scanned the room of marines. Neil waited for the man to talk.
"Good afternoon," the captain called out to the room.
"Afternoon sir," came the uniform reply of 27 deep voices.
"Okay, we have a standard convoy run today, but let me be clear, there's nothing standard about it. I except all SOP's to be followed. Everyone gets back here safe. Understood?"
"Understood sir," replied the chorus of men.
"Good enough. Your lieutenant will be giving the brief. Pay attention and make me proud." With that, the Captain waved the men down before they could get up, and walked back through the aisle, exiting the tent.
"Okay guys, let's get this over with," the Lieutenant said, as he stepped behind the podium. Neil turned to listen, eager to soak in every word.
"Okay, you're with us boot," said Sergeant Corbett to Neil as the briefing ended. Neil stood up,quickly followed the sergeant and Blank out of the large tent, and across the grounds to the motor pool, where six Humvees waited.
"This one is ours, boot," Blank said, opening the door and placing his pack inside. There’ll be four of us in this one, and we'll be the caboose on this food run. You can sit behind beside me in the back. I'm the gunner if it comes to that."
"Copy that," Neil replied, with his business face.
Blank laughed, "I can already tell, you're going to give the sergeant plenty of good times."
Two hours into the trip, Neil's excitement faded. The first hour was a rush filled indoctrination, which captured all his senses. The sights, sounds and smells of his first foreign country, added to the euphoria of being in his first warzone, sent Neil's mind spinning. He loved it. Soon, though, the exotic trees, the burned-out tanks and the dry smoky air became the norm, as he was thrown around in his seat like a ball in the back of a pickup.
"I'm going to throw up," grumbled Sergeant Corbett in the driver's seat. "These pot holes are a foot deep. We're going to pop an axle, I swear it."
Nobody listened. The Sergeant had been complaining about the road the entire trip. Neil, sick of it, had shut out most of it, in his excitement. He had to agree though; it seemed more like an obstacle course for the Humvee. Either they were plowing down into a hole, or climbing broken trees or vehicles. The result was the same, a bone jarring, teeth snapping experience that left you dazed and shaken. The briefing said the road was drivable and it was, barely.
"At this rate, we'll never get there," the sergeant said, not bothered by a lack of response. Neil didn't know what to say, it wasn’t his place to talk. He'd just learned from Blank, that the sergeant had made rank a few days ago. Apparently, he was overdue, but kept getting in one form of trouble or another. Neil understood.
"Look at that." Corbett pointed to a trash can sized hole in the road. The disinterested driver, more concerned about controlling the steering wheel, didn’t comment. "The hole will snap the axle for sure!"
"Yeah, what can you we do? We can't leave the road. SOP," replied the bored marine.
"Screw that, just edge to the side of the road a bit and we'll miss most of it," said the sergeant.
For the first time, Neil noticed Blank sit up and look ahead. "Hey Sergeant, this road is a bitch, I know, but maybe we shouldn't leave it."
"Come on Blank, don't be such a woman, we're not going to drive more than a foot or two off the path. Hey boot? You tired of this shaking? Of course you are, see, it's the kid’s first day over here and we're going to make him sick."
Blank gave Neil a shrug, sat back in his seat, and looked out the window, letting it go. Neil didn't like the idea of going against the SOP, but no one was going to listen to him, especially if they didn’t listen to Blank.
With his instructions given, the marine steered the big, brown Humvee off the road and avoided the hole. At the same time, Neil started to feel the difference in the ride. The gravel was larger on the side of the road, but there weren’t huge holes for the Humvee to dump into. A tradeoff.
The radio squawked to life, "Corbett, get your ass back on the road now!" barked the staff sergeant. Neil thought this little adventure had gone far enough, when Corbett picked the radio up.
"Copy that Staff Sergeant, we were just trying to avoid a hole," said Corbett. Neil thought a little of his reckless attitude slipped at the sound of the irate staff sergeant. The radio began to crackle again, when he felt the Humvee being lifted up. He blinked and then remembered no more.
***
Neil, confused and scared, awoke slowly in an unfamiliar place. Pain laced his eyes and head, as light entered his vision. He found halogen lights hanging on the ceiling and then scanned the rest of the room. He lay in the middle of a sterile hospital room, complete with humming monitors. Why? He couldn’t remember. He closed his eyes again, trying to clear his head.
"Aw, they said you were awake," came a clinical voice at the end of the bed. "I see you've moved your head a little. Good, that's good. I'm sure you have a lot of questions. Don't worry about those right now; you're being taken care of. I'll have a nurse in here in a minute, she’ll help clean you up and give you some water. I imagine you’re thirsty? Just take your time; you had quite a knock on the head. Ah here she is, I'll talk to you later."
With that, the voice was gone. Neil never said a word to him, only cracked an eye to see a vague outline. He saw the nurse when she walked in; it made him feel better already. He laid back and relaxed as she washed his face and helped him drink. He closed his eyes again; he needed to rest.
Neil awoke sometime later, not sure how much time had passed. He felt better, with no pain at the opening of his eyes. He noticed people standing around his bed, looking down in appraisal. Not people, officers! He opened his eyes wider and managed to get a croaky "Sir" out. His throat didn't work right.
"Rest easy son, you don't need to talk," said the man. Ne
il focused, and recognized him; his captain. Beside his CO, looking worn, stood his lieutenant. Nerves grabbed him; he had tried earlier to remember what had happened but came up short. He hoped he hadn’t screwed up.
The man started again, "We brought you out of your sleep private, to tell you what happened. Your Humvee hit an IED placed along the side of the road. Apparently, the insurgents dug the hole just so someone would try to avoid it and leave the road. Unfortunately, that's just what happened. I'm sorry to say that everyone else was killed in the explosion. You were very lucky to get out of it with just a concussion and two broken legs.
Neil stared at the man, the truth of his words clearing the haze in his mind. He remembered now, the ride. The sergeant taking the Humvee off road to avoid the hole. He closed his eyes, thoughts of Blank and Corbett, both dead now, coming easy to his mind. He couldn't remember the name of the other guy and he felt bad about it.
"We thought you should know, we'll let you get some sleep now. The doctor here tells me that you'll be okay, and I can see that you’re strong. Rest easy private."
The two officers and the doctor said a few words among themselves and started to leave when Neil gave a forced "Sir".
The captain looked back at Neil, stopped, and let the others walk past him.
"Yes, private?"
"Sir, will I be able to fight again?"
The Captain didn't flinch, he looked Neil in the eye and answered, "We don't know private, you'll have to heal first and then we'll go from there." The Captain seemed to hesitate, then spoke up. "I'm sorry this happened to you, son. I feel partly to blame. You see, I knew Sergeant Corbett liked to play loose with the rules sometimes and this time, it got him and others killed. Remember this Private, and remember it well. Rules are what keep us alive. Without rules, we die. Without rules, in a crises, or in a war zone, people die.
Neil looked back up at him and thought of his new friends, now dead. He would remember! This wouldn’t happen on his watch, not again!
Chapter 1
"Kyle get up!" boomed a voice like a hammer, which woke Kyle from his fitful sleep. He sat up in the thin cot, almost falling off the side. He looked up, trying to remember where he was, and noticed someone looming in the doorway of the casement. Fort Macon. He remembered and quickly stuffed his feet in the boots he’d left beside the bed.
