The following story is a work of fiction and does not depict any actual persons or events. Any likeness to actual persons or events is purely coincidental. All parties engaging in sexual activity are of legal age of 18 and consenting adults. This is for entertainment purposes and is not an avocation for the activities contained herein.
This story does not contain graphic sex so look elsewhere if that is what you need.
I need to seriously thank nikyc for helping with the job of editing. Please take a moment and vote if you like the story. Thanks.
I joined the Army even before I graduated from high school. My senior year my dad and I visited the Army recruiter and even though I was only seventeen (my dad had to sign paperwork giving his permission). I signed up and was given a MOS and three days after my HS graduation I was on my way to boot camp. Because I took ROTC in HS I entered the Army as an E3, that was eleven years ago. Today I am a Staff Sargent (E6) and expect to be promoted to E7 as soon as I'm eligible.
My name is Eric Brown, I stand about 5'10" and weigh 170. I've sandy color hair and have blue eyes but other than that I am just average looking. I've had girlfriends but since joining the Army I have not been in any long term relationships. Just a date here and there. For some reason the Army has always been my life and home and I thought I would be in the Army forever.
My MOS is a field medic. Firstly, I am a grunt and carry a weapon and 100lb packs just like everyone else in my platoon. However, I am also a medic and responsible for treating battlefield injuries. I can perform emergency surgery, deliver babies, perform transfusions in the field, or just put a band aid on. Because of my medical skills everyone calls me Doc. After I retire I might even use my GI bill to finish college and become a doctor. I am not sure about that because it would take more years than I'm willing to give. So I will most likely settle for being a nurse even though I have many of the skills of a doctor.
Let me explain about what I've done since being in the Army. I've served two tours in Iraq and two tours in Afghanistan and stationed stateside in between deployments. However, on my last tour of Afghanistan things happened that changed my life and put me on a fast track through the Army promotion boards.
My unit was being transported in two trucks, and I was in the first truck when the first explosion occurred. The explosion was large enough to lift the truck several feet in the air and when we came down the truck was on its side. The explosion was on the right side of the truck and several of the troops were killed outright with several injured. I was sitting on the left side and my legs were riddled with shrapnel but I was awake and alert.
The second truck was also hit with an explosion, even more severe than the first one. Everyone in the truck was either killed or seriously injured. None showed signs of life.
We then came under heavy enemy fire. We weren't returning fire because everyone was either too injured or killed. I was one of the few that was even conscious. I looked in the direction the gunfire was coming from and realized they were rushing our trucks. I set my M4 to auto and squeezed off an entire magazine. I was surrounded by weapons so I just reached over and grabbed another rifle and emptied the magazine in two seconds. Someone then handed me another rifle and I emptied it as well. I repeated firing going through several magazines in less than a minute. I had broken the onslaught of the Taliban and they began retreating finding shelter from my heavy fire.
I realized I was the only soldier capable of firing a weapon. I was also the medic and had to treat the wounded. I was afraid the truck was going to catch fire and realized I had to evacuate those still alive. By this time the enemy combatants were returning the fire on the trucks.
I located our radioman and tried to get his radio to work to call for help. I knew how to work it but the radio was damaged by the shrapnel. We all carried emergency radios that would reach out to nearby aircraft so I immediately started calling for help, but apparently there were no aircraft close enough to receive my signal.
I started moving the injured to a nearby ditch that would provide shelter from enemy fire and also if the trucks were set ablaze. My legs were damaged and I was losing copious amounts of blood but I managed to drag all the injured from my truck to the ditch. The enemy fire continued and I caught a bullet in my left arm. I am right handed so I carried on with what I was doing ignoring the wound. Every now and then I would fire a couple of magazines to let the enemy know we were still capable of returning fire. I left the dead in the truck as I just couldn't abandon the wounded to move the dead.
I treated the wounded as best as I could under the conditions. Everyone that was badly wounded but conscious got morphine. I decided I couldn't do what I needed to do if I self-treated myself with morphine so I just dealt with the pain. Besides, others were more seriously wounded than I was and needed the morphine more.
I continued calling for help on my emergency transmitter. Finally, I got a very weak signal from an aircraft and got the word out about what had occurred and that we badly needed help. Assistance was on the way, but would they arrive in time?
The second truck was about twenty yards behind my truck and I was finally able to reach it and remove the wounded and treat them. I had long ago exhausted my supply of bandages and pain killers. There was little I could do other than stay positive, make the wounded as comfortable as possible, and tell them help was on the way.
I gathered several rifles, including a light machine gun, and took up a defensive position not far from the wounded. I could tell the enemy was preparing to rush our position again. I got back on the radio and requested immediate air support and also included that my position was about to be overrun. (When overrun is mentioned that gets everyone's attention and becomes the number priority for help). By now word had gotten out and aircraft from all over the region were homing in on my position.
I had a couple of fast movers overhead within seconds but both said they were bingo on munitions. Their presence alone must have scared the shit out of the regrouping Taliban.
The enemy, sensing a massacre with time running out, rushed again. I emptied every weapon I had and still the enemy came on. I was busy reloading when a fleet of Apache helicopter gunships arrived and laid down a heavy barrage of machine gun fire. Bodies were everywhere. Following the gunships were two more Apaches with troops and medics on board. They immediately established a defensive perimeter and began treating the wounded while awaiting reinforcements.
Heavy reinforcements came by way of two Chinook helicopters. Once they arrived the enemy just vanished and all shooting stopped.