Thanks to everyone who has stuck with me. The opening events actually happened to me in twenty-nine palms during training. I was the ammo runner who plowed into an infantry Sergeant.
Rate, comment and enjoy. More is coming!
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Chapter 3
"Sergeant Anderson, we have guests."
I looked over and saw one of my best Marines, Lance Corporal Ronny Tyler, leading several Marines to our gun.
"How's it going? Sergeant Andrew Anderson," I said shaking hands with the group. "You guys the grunts they sent to watch us?"
"Yes Sergeant. We were told we could come watch, so we decided to see how the other side lives," a short, stocky Corporal said.
The infantrymen greeted us warmly, joining us in sharing past experiences and just generally bullshitting. I took a moment to brief them on what to do when we get a fire mission.
"When we get moving, stand either at the back of the truck, or off to the sides. Most importantly, stand out if the way. When we get rolling, we won't stop to dodge you, but will plow through you, got it?"
"Got it," they replied together.
Not five minutes later, we got the call. "Fire mission!" Came the voice on the radio.
"Fire mission!" Everyone yelled, getting to their assigned spots.
Fire direction control gave us our mission, now it was on us to get ready. The mission had the special instruction, 'at my command', meaning we had to call back ready and they would tell us when to shoot.
"Get that round up here!" I called, seeing a young PFC carrying the 100 pound shell.
"HE,PD!" He said, referencing the High Explosive shell and Point Detonating fuze screwed into the top. I gave the fuze a hard twist to verify it was in place correctly.
"HE,PD verified!" Called our recorder, who verifies what we give him against FDC's request.
"Load it," I said, seeing the powder man coming my way with the powder charge.
The round was placed on the loading tray and dropped to the opening of the breach with a hydraulic lever. A second Marine came up with the ramming staff and together, they pushed the shell into the barrel with a grunt and a dull thud.
"Charge 8 stick!" The young Marine said, showing me the cardboard tube containing the propellant.
I heard a smack of kevlar on kevlar and a thud as someone fell. Turning to look, I saw the infantry Corporal laying on his ass as the Private with the ramming staff began laughing.
"What the fuck! Come here Private!" The Corporal said, more than a little pissed.
"Belay that! James, carry on," I said, defusing the situation. The Corporal looked at me as I turned back to the matter at hand.
"8 stick verified!"
"Load it," I said, seeing him place it in the breach with the red end out. One end has a small red pouch of powder on it, to be lit off by the primer, much like how a bullet works.
The powder man held up his hands, indicating he was clear of the breach. "I see red, clear!" He called.
"Clear!" Said the assistant gunner, closing the breach with another hydraulic lever. He flipped the priming handle down and jumped off the trail he was standing on. "Primed!"
I verified the deflection and quadrant, which is the same as angle and altitude, then checked to make sure the other three rounds we had to fire were fuzed and ready.
"Tell 'em gun 2 is ready," I said, proud of how quickly we got set up. Even with Corporal asshat getting steamrolled, we were ready in 25 seconds. I headed over to talk to him.
"What the fuck Sergeant, you just gonna let him run me down like that?" He asked, trying his best to keep calm.
"Yes, I told you to stay out of the way. Since you didn't listen, he did what he was supposed to," I told him, a small amount of anger flaring inside.
"I just.."
"No, you didn't listen, so you got put on your ass. Go stand over by the ammo truck, that's where you can watch safely."
"Aye aye Sergeant," he said, going to where I told him.
"Battery, stand by!" Came the radio.
"Standby!" I shouted, seeing the gunner grab the lanyard and prepare to pull.
"Fire!"
It came from the radio, then a second later I shouted it. The gunner twisted his hips, pulling the cord attached to the firing mechanism. The cannon roared and shook dust up as the shell left the barrel. The force caused by the charge 8 stick propellant dug the trails in deeper and pushed the 10,000 pound gun back about six inches.
--
I sat up in bed, groaning and stretching. This was one of the more pleasant military dreams I've had lately, as it didn't involve combat or me dying. I looked at the clock and saw it was 5 AM.
'Fuck it, might as well go for a run' I thought, swinging my legs over the bed and getting ready. I put on my running shorts, a shirt and my sneakers before grabbing my iPod and heading out the door.
---
Two weeks later, Becky got a job working as a receptionist for the local dentist. She was very excited, mostly because she wanted to be a dental hygienist and, even though she hadn't taken classes yet, she figured it would be a good way to learn some stuff by observing first hand.
I decided to congratulate her, sending her a text to see what she was doing. It was still early, 11:43 AM by the clock on the wall.
To Becky:
Hey beautiful
From Becky:
What's up troublemaker
To Becky:
What are you doing tonight?
From Becky:
Nothing but the usual. What's up?
To Becky:
I heard a celebration is in order. Dinner tonight?
From Becky:
Sure. Where we going?
To Becky:
Nowhere fancy. I figured I'd cook up something for us
From Becky:
OK, what time you want me to come over?
To Becky:
I'll pick you up around 5:30. We can make a night of it