Irregulaire

Rank and File

Later that day, around 9.30-ish, the eleven of us gathered in front of the porch. Buck’s leg was fine, it turned out to be just a ricochet. Major Metford then joined us. He briefed us about what we should do with this squad. Or so I thought. 

“If we’re talking about Marine doctrine, the squad leader is best not to be part of a team. I mean, good job what you did here, but it’s gonna be better for you if you’re separate from the team. Second in command, however, is more flexible,” he said. I didn’t understand at first, but then, “If you are leading the squad, you don’t want the hassle of leading a team on top of that. Relegate the team to someone else, and you coordinate with that person,” he continued. 

“Roger that, Major,” Red said. “That means you lead the team, Ryan,” 

“Me? Oh, no, no, no,” Ryan said to Red. 

“Oh, yes, and that’s an order,” 

“I guess it’s time for you guys to have this,” Major chuckled as he handed out some patches. “Put these on your vests, those are your insignias,” he continued, “give the corporal insignias to the team leaders. The rest are all privates, they don’t need any. We don’t have that many of these patches lying around anyway—we took them from the dead.” 

We took a good look at those patches, hardly believing it. As we looked at each other, the Major smiled, “Welcome to Recon.” 

We were left speechless with that. He then proceeded to get back to the house, to check on his daughter, I guess. 

The situation hadn’t cleared off yet, mind you. There were still gunfire, mortars, jets, and explosions going off. It was just not in our position. Lieutenant and several of his men were doing their job as they had been told, apparently. Rattles of rifle and machine gun fire can be heard from the compound. 

“So I’m a Staff Sergeant, now?” Red said, looking at the patch she had been given. 

“Yeah you’re the squad leader,” I answered. “Dan, you are the team leader. Take this,” 

“Yes, Sergeant!” he replied, with his usual enthusiasm. 

I decided to take Red to see Grace while we were on a bit of a lull. We went inside the house and saw some more Marines being treated. There was Honé, too. Poor guy, his legs were blown off, with his torso peppered with fragments. One of them appeared to have pierced the throat. That’s what killed him. But I guess he went unconscious from the shock first, and if that was so, good for him. 

There was a TV in the living room, but I figured it wouldn’t work. We saw Ian sitting in the corner, holding his head. He seemed to be tired, although I think that wasn’t the only case. This here was way more than what he was used to back in the academy. Of course, there wasn’t any explosion going off, neither was this much blood. But I was sure he could hang through. 

“Hey, Doc. How’s it going, are you okay?” Red said to him, laying her hand on his shoulder. 

“Oh, Hi, Sergeant,” he sighed, “I guess I’m okay,” then he chuckled.

“You sure?” I sat beside him. “You don’t look too good yourself,”

“Yea?” He looked at me, “Well, I guess I was just tired. And Grace…” 

“It’s okay, Doc, it’s not your fault. You did good,” I patted his shoulder. He deserved that. 

“Well, I gotta get to the aid station,” he stood up. “See you around, folks,” —

The stench of gunpowder, oil, and blood definitely hadn’t worn off, especially with several dead bodies and the wounded. It filled the air in the room along with an eerie vibe of battlefield silence. But then it went off again. Gunfire. But it was not here. Several hundred meters from the battered fence of the compound, it was. I think the Lieutenant met resistance and blew them all to hell. It lasted for a couple short minutes, then it stopped. We figured they will be back soon. 

I hung around in the living room for a little longer. With shards of wood and glass everywhere, I needed to watch where I step. Red looked at the time on her watch and decided to walk outside. A short while after, I saw a uniformed figure standing in the corridor of the house. The figure walked towards me slowly, making me uncomfortable for a while. But then I remembered—

“Hey, Mike,” Grace greeted me softly. There she was, with her face still bandaged. It looked like her right temple was still bleeding a little.

“Hi,” for fuck’s sake that can’t be all I can get out, “so how do you feel?” 

“A bit numb,” she said, feeling her cheeks, “You?” 

“Not much. Caught a fragment of a mortar round, near my left rib, but I’m okay,” I said, walking closer towards her.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“I am. Ian got it covered,” 

“Ian?” She smirked confusedly. “You sure he got you fixed?” 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I answered, “although I was skeptical at first,” 

We laughed it off. Well, I think that makes me feel a little bit better. It was her, after all. But in the end, I assured her that we were okay and headed out to the guys. Just as Grace left to get back inside, someone called me from behind. 

“Hey, Mouse,” she said. There’s only one person who got to call me that. 

“Yea?” 

“Look what I found,” it was two cans of beer, a little dinged up here and there. “Wanna have some?” 

“Of course, I do. Thank you,” 

I took one of the cans. It was warm. 

“Where did you get this?” I asked her.

“Soko handed out a few of these back in our tent,”

Well, we all know warm beer is never good. But that was all we had, so we enjoyed that beer and smoked a little more on the outside edge of the living room. 

“You figure we’d survive this?” she asked me. 

“With you leading us? Come on. We believe in you, I told you that,” 

“Oh, stop it, you,” she looked at me.  

“But I saw you there. You led us like a real soldier, even after being knocked down. That is a proof of your capability,”  

“It’s not that, though,” she sighed, “I mean, yeah, I do hesitate at times, but that’s not what I’m talking about,”

“I’m listening,”

“Like… I don’t have the slightest idea of how everything will play out, even if this ever ends. I mean how are we going to keep on living after seeing death all around?”

“I don’t know either. I mean I’d rather not think about it too much, personally. All I think about now is getting out of here alive,”

“I guess you’re right,” she agreed.

The Major emerged from his room, now a makeshift Command Center, which had its doors shut. No wonder I couldn’t find him. He seemed a bit calmer than the last time, now that he knew LT took care of those enemy troops. Or so he thought. The firefight stopped right then and there, and we expected the LT to get back to the compound. Three minutes later, two guys came back. There was no sign of the lieutenant. The Major went towards these guys and asked for a report. 

“Major, sir,” said one of the Marines, “we were overwhelmed,” the Marine said, “We’ve got Tangos everywhere, we pulled back, and we lost the LT,” 

“Larkwell?” 

“He told us to fall back, sir. He covered our retreat,” the Marine said. 

“For fuck’s sake,” the Major sighs. “I want a search party organized—” 

“Hang on, Major,” Wilkins intervened, “We already lost a squad here, sir. We still need men to defend this area,” 

The Major was unable to respond for a couple of seconds, seeming to think about what the Sergeant Major said. “Fuck,” The Major exclaimed. 

“Damn those pigs,” The Major said, clenching his teeth. “Soko, you take care of the defense here. You’re the platoon leader now,” 

Soko was surprised. With a mutter under his breath, he replied, “yes sir,” 

The Major then went back inside. Sergeant Major followed him. Soko stayed with us—yes, even though he’s unofficially a lieutenant now, he’s still okay with it. He’s about to be our new platoon commander, and with 2 Marine squad left, they were about to count us in. Hopefully they captured the Lieutenant instead of killing him. He was a good man, to be frank. 

We were just standing there, not really back on our position. There were too many holes to fill in after we lost that one squad the Lieutenant brought. We were spread too thin, or at least so I thought. Spreading too thin doesn’t really look like this. It’s like five men covering the 100-yard line. But for me, less than 40 people covering the 300-yard line was quite little. 

“Are you really okay?” I asked Red. 

“I am, why?” 

“Nothing, just making sure,” I paused, “It looks like we’re moving out pretty soon,” 

“Where?” 

“I don’t know, but this position is already compromised. We might need a new place to hide the Major,” I continued. 

“But they didn’t see the Major,” 

“Well, my thinking was that we’re now at risk of being overrun. Either that, or he’s just being a bit too cautious,”  

It was still right around eleven o’clock. The sun burned everything not under the shades. The foul odor of blood spread everywhere, especially with heat evaporating anything liquid. Gunfire was still heard every now and then on the faraway side of the battlefield. But for us, it was a lull. Could be dangerous, I tell you. Enemies can catch us off guard, attacking while we take breaks. But it didn’t happen. 

We then coordinated with the squad, assessing damage and distributing supplies. We had plenty of rounds, most of us armed with rifles had at least 240 rounds of 5.56mm attached to our bodies. The 5th Squad riflemen even had 300 rounds with each of us, except for Red, who downloaded it to 210 for better mobility. MGs have even more rounds. They have 700 for the SAW, 500 for the GPMG, not including their assistant gunner. It’s actually good for bug outs, but we’re not ready for it, I guess. 

Buck is fine now. He chatters as usual again after getting treatments for his leg. The ricochet was quite big, probably an AK-47 round. Had it pierced a little deeper, it might’ve hit the artery and drained him out of blood. 

“How’s that leg?” I asked 

“Stiff, sore, what have you, Mick. But it still works,” he said, quite lightly. The bruise on his head is almost gone, too. 

“You sure you can manage?”

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