Beside him lay Ziv, his face a bloody mess. Brit pulled the pin out of a grenade, yelled “FRAG OUT!” and heaved it out of the ditch towards the other side of the road. I handed her another one, and she repeated the process, rewarded with a scream and cursing in Spanish. The volume of gunfire whipping over our heads increased, if that was possible. I could hear at least a half dozen M-4 rifles and a pretty big MG, either a 240 or an older M-60.
Ryan was lying next to Ziv, trying to see where he was hit, and the Serb pushed his hand away, jamming another magazine into his AK, and holding it over his head, emptying a full magazine. Obi sat with his back agisnt the ditch, cradling his machine gun, unmoving, looking scared shitless. Ziv had been on point, keeping an eye ahead, when something warned him, stopping us just as the command detonated mine erupted further down the road.
“SHONA! SCOTT!” I yelled to the two figures behind us returning fire over the road top. and when I had their attention, waved them around in a wide sweeping arc to our left. They immediately started low crawling along the ditch, headed up the road to where a bridge carried it over a stream through a culvert.
“Brit, go with them!” I told her.
Her eye flashed angrily and she told me to fuck off. “I’m not leaving you!”
“Goddamn it, that’s an order! MOVE YOUR ASS!”
I was hit, pretty bad. Whatever type of explosive had triggered the ambush had sent a piece of hot shrapnel into my shoulder, and another into my face. I could see it sticking out of my cheek, out of the corner of my eye, and it burned like hell. The one on in my left shoulder had turned my arm numb and useless, sending blood dripping down my sleeve. I hoped like hell it hadn’t hit an artery.
Brit stuffed a pressure bandage up under my sleeve and then tied it off. Then she reached over and yanked the shrapnel out of my face, making me screamed in pain. “If you fucking bleed to death I’m going to kill you!” she yelled over the gunfire, then spun and followed after the other two. I started crawling in the opposite direction, passing Obi, Ryan and Ziv. As I did, I grabbed Obi.
“Come with me!” I yelled, and told Ryan and Ziv to hold there. “WATCH FOR A CHARGE!” We went another ten meters and I told Obi to stop and point the gun down the length of the ditch, parallel to the road. Even as I did, three figures jumped down from the road into the mud about fifty meters away, trying to do the same thing I had just sent my three guys to do, on the opposite end. Obi started firing, yelling at the top of his lungs, one long continuous stream of tracers that riddled them, knocking them down into the dirt. I smacked his helmet as hard as I could with my good hand to get him to take his finger off the trigger.
“WHAT THE FUCK! STOP FIRING!” I yelled at him.
“Sorry, Colonel, first time I ever killed a man!” he said, and then threw up on the gun. I stared at him in amazement. All that shit he talked.
“WATCH!” I said, and pointed down the ditch. Then I turned and started to crawl back to Ryan and Ziv. Ziv had a bandage over his eyes, and kept holding his AK over his head and firing bursts at intervals, covering the road. Ryan was doing the same when his weapon flew backwards, and he brought his hand down to stare stupidly at his missing pinky finger.
Yeah, we were in the shit indeed.
It was hard to track what was going on, since the ambushers were using M-4’s like we were, except for Ziv’s AK. I took my cell phone out of my pocket and secured it to the end of my rifle with a piece of tape, then hit “record” on the video function, sticking it up in the air for three seconds and then pulling it back down.
The video showed three attackers clustered around a machine gun that had been brought forward and set up at a turn of the road. It swept back and forth, covering the entire road top with sort, disciplined burst, about a hundred meters away. I
Ryan was lying next to Ziv, trying to see where he was hit, and the Serb pushed his hand away, jamming another magazine into his AK, and holding it over his head, emptying a full magazine. Obi sat with his back agisnt the ditch, cradling his machine gun, unmoving, looking scared shitless. Ziv had been on point, keeping an eye ahead, when something warned him, stopping us just as the command detonated mine erupted further down the road.
“SHONA! SCOTT!” I yelled to the two figures behind us returning fire over the road top. and when I had their attention, waved them around in a wide sweeping arc to our left. They immediately started low crawling along the ditch, headed up the road to where a bridge carried it over a stream through a culvert.
“Brit, go with them!” I told her.
Her eye flashed angrily and she told me to fuck off. “I’m not leaving you!”
“Goddamn it, that’s an order! MOVE YOUR ASS!”
I was hit, pretty bad. Whatever type of explosive had triggered the ambush had sent a piece of hot shrapnel into my shoulder, and another into my face. I could see it sticking out of my cheek, out of the corner of my eye, and it burned like hell. The one on in my left shoulder had turned my arm numb and useless, sending blood dripping down my sleeve. I hoped like hell it hadn’t hit an artery.
Brit stuffed a pressure bandage up under my sleeve and then tied it off. Then she reached over and yanked the shrapnel out of my face, making me screamed in pain. “If you fucking bleed to death I’m going to kill you!” she yelled over the gunfire, then spun and followed after the other two. I started crawling in the opposite direction, passing Obi, Ryan and Ziv. As I did, I grabbed Obi.
“Come with me!” I yelled, and told Ryan and Ziv to hold there. “WATCH FOR A CHARGE!” We went another ten meters and I told Obi to stop and point the gun down the length of the ditch, parallel to the road. Even as I did, three figures jumped down from the road into the mud about fifty meters away, trying to do the same thing I had just sent my three guys to do, on the opposite end. Obi started firing, yelling at the top of his lungs, one long continuous stream of tracers that riddled them, knocking them down into the dirt. I smacked his helmet as hard as I could with my good hand to get him to take his finger off the trigger.
“WHAT THE FUCK! STOP FIRING!” I yelled at him.
“Sorry, Colonel, first time I ever killed a man!” he said, and then threw up on the gun. I stared at him in amazement. All that shit he talked.
“WATCH!” I said, and pointed down the ditch. Then I turned and started to crawl back to Ryan and Ziv. Ziv had a bandage over his eyes, and kept holding his AK over his head and firing bursts at intervals, covering the road. Ryan was doing the same when his weapon flew backwards, and he brought his hand down to stare stupidly at his missing pinky finger.
Yeah, we were in the shit indeed.
It was hard to track what was going on, since the ambushers were using M-4’s like we were, except for Ziv’s AK. I took my cell phone out of my pocket and secured it to the end of my rifle with a piece of tape, then hit “record” on the video function, sticking it up in the air for three seconds and then pulling it back down.
The video showed three attackers clustered around a machine gun that had been brought forward and set up at a turn of the road. It swept back and forth, covering the entire road top with sort, disciplined burst, about a hundred meters away. I
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