by S. A. Lowry
Then, like always, the yelling starts from the NCO’s(Non-Commissioned Officers or Sergeants). Also, the pace picks up to where Andrew is struggling to maintain his breathing. This did not help to accommodate the soldiers whom were already left far behind. They just continued to fall back even further.
“Let them be. If your vagina hurts, go ahead and fall out now or go to sick call so they can give you your vagisal,” sarcastically states the leader of the formation as he continues to pick up the pace even faster after answering one of his soldier’s questions in regard to the fall outs.
Andrew continues to keep up without faltering. Darkness still lingers as they continue on their run. Usually the sun doesn’t come up until six or six-thirty AM. The road they continue to run down skirts the perimeter of the FOB in a 360 degree fashion. It also parallels the fence line, which is backed by C-wire and tank traps. Running on this road, you can clearly look out into sector and actually make out some of the neighboring villages of Iraq. Not the safest place to run all by yourself.
A few miles go by and the pace now begins to slow down a bit. Reason being, the leader of the formation notices something odd off into the distance.
“Hey guys look off to your left. Whatever that guy is on, I want a hit,” jokingly states the squad leader while expecting a laugh in return from his subordinates. They oblige. Andrew looks off and sees a shadowy figure of a man. A human outline stumbling towards the fence line they are on in the darkness. It is not clear how much of the man he can make out, however, it is a man nonetheless as he appears to be drunk judging by the way he is walking. Last time he saw something like this on perimeter road was a few days ago with his brother, Trevor. They assumed that the previous man they saw was drunk as well.
Now bored, the squad leader decides to turn it around and head back so he can finish up the run in time for breakfast. Upon passing up his squad members which he left all by their lonesome, he orders them to turn around and fall back in to the formation. They follow suit.
“Stalker 5 redcon 1,” Trevor reports over the radio as he continues plotting a navigational route on his blue force tracker inside the TC(truck commander) side of his MRAP(Mine Resistant Ambush Protected) vehicle.
“Stalker 6 redcon 1(Ready Condition 1 or meaning ready to go),” the platoon leader reports.
“Stalker 3 redcon 1,” the third truck reports.
“Stalker 5 this is Stalker 9, take us out of here, over,” the platoon sergeant calls from the last truck which carries the platoon combat medic. Trevor proceeds through ECP(entry control point) Ritz and heads down the long straight away road passing Basrah International Airport to ECP Alpha which is controlled by the Iraqi Army. It is comprised of a series of serpentines, gates and manned checkpoints.
As Trevor’s convey passes the airport, they notice a C-130 aircraft taking off. Back a few months ago, American forces would link-up with their Iraqi counterparts and conduct joint patrols. Normally, no American forces were allowed to roll outside the wire unilaterally unless it was a QRF mission or cleared by the Battalion TOC(Tactical Operations Center). However, these last few weeks of patrols are the exception. Trevor rolls through ECP Alpha leading out the convey of four MRAP vehicles to their respective sector.
“Alright Price, pick up your scan. I’ll take near road you take far road. Remember, when I say bridge, you get down. When I say clear you get back up in the turret,” Trevor reminds his gunner as they push through the clover-leaf like intersection and descend upon an off ramp leading onto a stretch of highway as passing cars race past the front of the convey.
Price covers the oncoming traffic with his M240 Bravo machine gun(7.62x51mm) as Trevor’s lead truck merges onto the freeway steering clear of oncoming vehicles moving at a high rate of speed.
Trevor now addresses his driver.
“Hey Hunter, brother man, slow it down a bit until Stalker 9 calls and says that he has hit the hard ball,” Trevor reminds again. “Roger Staff Sergeant,” Hunter jokingly responds. Now smiling at his driver, Trevor goes on to address his driver, “That is Mr. Staff Sergeant Wilcott to you my main man. I love your work ethic, always going that extra distance to drain my hose. I tell you what boys, in the words of our fearless Battalion Commander, I remind you all, once again, there is definitely without a doubt excellence in this formation,” Everyone on the headset inside the truck begins to burst out laughing.
Trevor’s convey now continues to head east at a high rate of speed towards the edge of the city of Basrah. Upon crossing their first bridge, not too far down the road, Trevor’s gunner, Price, makes a startling discovery.
“Hey Sergeant check it out to the 2 o clock. There’s a body on the side of the road. Looks like he’s been eaten,” Price exclaims in a shocking tone of voice. This was his first time seeing a corpse.
“Looks like a pack of wolves got him. Better call this up,” Trevor responds. Once Trevor reports it over the net(radio), his platoon sergeant calls back and tells him to get in a herring bone formation(staggered vehicles on opposite sides of the road in relation to each other) and take a short halt. Trevor follows suite.
“All Stalker elements this is Stalker 6, stay mounted. I am dismounting at this time with the interpreter to check the body out,” the platoon leader orders.
All of the truck commanders acknowledge. After a few minutes pass by, the platoon sergeant decides to contact the CP and inform them of what they just encountered.
“What did it look like?”, asks one of the dismounts in the back of Trevor’s truck.
“Looked dead to us, Gilroy,” Hunter snapped back with an attitude.
Then went on to add, “How about you just sit your little ass back there and look pretty. You talk too much,” Hunter aggressively stated. Gilroy stays silent. “He looks like he’s been dead for awhile. He was definitely rotting away. I could see his flesh falling off and such. I am pretty sure there was maggots on him. Also, you could tell he was bloated. However, just barely because there are chunks missing from his torso,” Price described in order to answer Gilroy’s previous question.
Hunter remains silent. “Well whatever happened to him boys, glad it ain’t us. I don’t think it’s a good idea walking up to that poor bastard. Too much carcaus open for an IED or EFP(Improvised Explosive Device and Explosive Formed Projectile). PL(platoon leader) shouldn’t be walking over there like that. Especially seeing as how he is right between these two IA(Iraqi Army) checkpoints which are only around five hundred meters apart. I don’t like it,” Trevor cautiously explained.
The four soldiers in the back agree with him.
“I wonder if he’s still warm,” jokes one of the dismounts.
“Have a little bit of respect for the dead, Reagal. That’s not funny,” explains Sergeant Christopher Muniz as he sits in the back across from Reagal.
“Roger sergeant”, responds Reagal. “Stupid ass always joking at the wrong times. Need to focus on the task at hand. How would you feel if someone you cared about was out there laying on the pavement with a cracked dome piece?”, angrily asks Christopher.
Sergeant Christopher Muniz been in the Army for awhile. He had deployed just as much as his squad leader, Trevor has. He is also a seasoned veteran of the Troop surge into Baghdad and fought to liberate Al Doura during the height of the insurgency in 2007. As much death as this man has seen, it would be impossible for one not to learn to respect it. He sees in these new private’s eyes a lack of respect or acknowledgment of the grim reality of it. This angers him.
“I just don’t see why the hell you would dismount to check out a corpse the IA left alone for what appears to be weeks. Doesn’t make a lick of sense. We should just pull up to the next Iraqi checkpoint and tell the terp to fetch their own branches,” Trevor interrupts apparently still allowing the PL’s actions to bother him. Weighing the good and the bad in his mind for what his leader is doing right now. Trevor normally is very critical of what gets done around here. He always says there’s a right way to do
something and the stupid way.
A few minutes have gone by and there are no current sitreps(situation reports) over the radio from their platoon leader. Trevor decides to light up a Miami cigarette from his truck commander seat. As a result, Hunter, proceeds to give him ‘the’ look. Trevor reaches back into one of his utility pouches attached to his vest and hands him one.
Few minutes goes by. Price notices from the gunner’s hatch a few armed Iraqi Army humvees hop the median in front of them and proceeds counter flow of traffic towards their position. Trevor informs his platoon leader on the ground about the approaching soldiers. As a result, their platoon leader acknowledges the transmission.
“Looks like they are chatting it up sergeant,” describes Price to Trevor as the Iraqi soldiers talk to the platoon leader and his interpreter. “It doesn’t look good. The IA keep shaking their head and pointing the PL off the other way with their hands. I don’t think they want us to do anything. It looks like they just want us to go,” explains Price.
“Yeah that sounds about right Price. Need to get the hell up out of here. We can’t bring the dead back to life,” Trevor responds as he puts his cigarette butt out on the vehicle floor.
The platoon leader decides to walk off with his element and load back up on their truck. “Stalker 9, this is Stalker 6, hey these IA guys can’t give me a solid answer. They just told us not to even come near the corpse and to leave immediately. They said that they are taking care of it. Hit up Hellraiser Main(the CP) and inform them. We are Charlie mike(continue mission),” the platoon leader transmit over the net with apparent confusion in his voice.
The platoon sergeant acknowledges the platoon leader’s transmission and sends the sitrep to higher via radio.
Trevor tells his driver to take off and continue pushing to the sector they intend to patrol for the next three hours. A few uneventful hours pass by while patrolling their sector for the day. Winding dirt roads which leads to Iraqi villages, back tracking roads which leads back to the main road they came in on and a few tiny bridges they had to cross. Another usual day, Trevor thinks to himself as he lights up yet another Miami cigarette.
However, a few hours later in the patrol, his platoon sergeant reminds the convey over the net of something strange. Something they have never seen before. All the villages that they have passed, are now abandoned. Not a sign of life. Not even cattle or random packs of dogs you will occasionally see on patrols in Iraq. Everyone in the convey formed an eerie feeling once their platoon sergeant called it out. Seems like the rest of them did not pay any attention to it. Neither did Trevor or his gunner Price. All of the times that they have came into these areas before, these places were packed with life. Traffic jams, kids and adults were always out to stop and stare at the passing convey. Today however, nothing.
After circling around the neighboring villages for about an hour, the patrol comes to a halt in a field off the side of the road. All four trucks positioned themselves in a coil(360 degree security with all of the truck’s backsides facing each other) at the order of the platoon leader in order to sit and over watch the target sector.
Another hour goes by. Then suddenly, a transmission over company net comes across.
“Stalker 6, this is Hellraiser main,” the soldier on the other end transmits. The platoon leader answers. “Roger. We have a scheduled flight within the next two hours for a CENTCOM General flying back to Kuwait. You are to stay in place and RTB(return to base) when Hellraiser 6(the company commander) gives you word,” the soldier at headquarters informs.
The platoon leader acknowledges the guidance from headquarters.
Everyone on Trevor’s truck yells out profanities and display their disgust as they throw their weapons down aggressively.
Some reach for their cigarettes while others begin packing a can of dip before popping one in into their jawline. Trevor lights another Miami.
“Yo Ringo, toss me up a water will ya?” Hunter asks as he reaches for a can of dip in his ACU(army combat uniform) pocket.
“Sure thing driver, just as long as you give me a pinch of that cope afterwards,” Ringo jokingly asks with a sarcastic tone of voice. Private Ringo is one of the dismounts in the back of the vehicle for Trevor’s squad and is an M249 SAW(squad automatic weapon) gunner. He usually carries four two-hundred round drums on the front of his vest and a single one-hundred round drum attached to the gun.
Ringo is one of the soldiers who never complains about anything and is always very quiet. Usually when he says something, people listen. Trevor still believes to this day that Ringo has Yakuza connections, however, he can’t seem to convince anybody. Ringo just gives a sharp grin everytime he hears about it. This stemmed in Trevor’s mind from a drunk night back in Texas when the squad was drinking over Trevor’s house. Ringo and Trevor had a heart to heart conversation over a bottle of Jack Daniels and a case of Budweiser. Reagal and Price seemed to hit it off that night as well. A combination of smack talking and stupid jokes which annoyed most of the squad, entertained the two at the same time.
Price and Reagal just always seemed to be on the same wave length together and eventually turned into best friends. Whether it was a night of drinking or barracks mischief, one could always link both of the pair’s involvement in it somehow. Hunter just always seemed to be the loner type. The only type of conviction or meaning in Hunter’s words always seemed to revolve around private Gilroy’s stupidity or incompetence.
The two turned into worst enemies over a period of time. Hunter, would always get on to Gilroy about something he did wrong or should of done, then Gilroy would shoot back and try to defend himself or justify his actions. Christopher, their team leader, had to break up multiple fights between the two in the past. Both on duty and off duty.
Trevor always considers his team leader his right hand man. This proves accurate for Sergeant Muniz’s character. Christopher is a very competent NCO as he genuinely cares for his soldiers. Anything you tell this man to do he will get it done better than the results you expected it in. Over time, Trevor formed a personal relationship with Christopher and the pair became good friends. Prior to deployment, both of their families had a barbeque together and socialized for hours the night before they left for Iraq. Over the course of their deployment together it only brought the two that much closer to one another.
“Hey sergeant do you think we’re going to miss chow?” asks Gilroy with a blank and lost facial expression. “Quit your whining. We’ll all eat when it comes time to eat. Focus on the goddamn task at hand. Why do I have to keep reminding you all of this,” a now irate Christopher addresses.
“Whoah, hold up sergeant, I wasn’t complaining any. You should know by now the bleeding vaginal section of the truck is where Gilroy sits,” answers Reagal as he points towards Gilroy’s face.
Gilroy, with a now embarrassed and angry expression, puts his head down and emits curses under his breathe just enough where you can barely hear it on the headset.
“You got something to tell us retard?” asks Hunter from the driver’s seat now looking back at him in disgust. Gilroy remains silent. The truck stays silent.
Yet another hour passes by. Countless Miami cigarettes later, Trevor is only down to two left as he inspects his pack. That is when he notices multiple Iraqis stumbling across an open desert near the village he was overwatching in the backdrop. They seem to be walking in the direction of the platoon coil, however, it appears that they are very far away.
Trevor now has a confused look on his face.
“Damn boys,” he tells his squad. “Seems like everyone around here is getting alcohol except us. Look at those drunk bastards trying to navigate the sandbox. They look more lost than a stripper at a job convention,” Trevor goes on to laugh.
Nobody really responds, except his gunner with a slight chuckle. Everyone else seems to be asleep. His driver wasn’t paying any attention because he had his MRAP driver’s side door open and was pre-occupied relieving himself off the side of
the vehicle with his belt undone.
Then suddenly, a beeping sound comes up on the net. The sound you hear just before a transmission is about to be sent out over the radio.
“Stalker 6 this is Hellraiser 6. RTB(return to base) at this time. I say again, RTB,” the company commander orders over the net.
“Wake up boys. Time to go back and stuff our mugs with some hot chow,” excitingly proclaims Trevor.
The convey pulls out of the coil in the sand. Once all the vehicles are lined up on the road, they proceed to get into marching order as they head back to FOB Basrah. Andrew yawns as he stands in line to have his platoon sergeant check his sensitive items(night vision device, weapon and assigned equipment) and tie downs on their weapons. The official name of this procedure is called ‘Green Two’.
He still remains a little drowsy from the early morning run. “Another apparent annoying green two,” he tells himself as he walks up next in line and begins reading off his serial numbers to the man waiting with the master sheet of equipment.
As Andrew walks off back to his tent after reading off his serial numbers, he hears his squad leader call off something to him in the distance.
“Reminder, we have a Battalion formation tomorrow in the motorpool for end of tour awards at 1500. Don’t forget,” yells his squad leader. Once Andrew is complete, he goes back to his tent area and scurries through some items he plans to stuff in his assault pack for the long flight to Kuwait, Germany, Atlanta and then ultimately, Texas.
Afterwards, he organizes his room then goes to find his brother for dinner chow. As he walks outside and starts walking through hesco barriers, tents and CHU’s, he passes a few soldiers going about their business along the way. A few of them seem pale and sick like. He noticed two or three out of the eight he passed were coughing up something serious. He begins to realize that at this point more and more people are getting sick around him. Andrew is surprised that he doesn’t even have a single symptom yet.
