I turned and left. JJ didn't see me exit the lobby as he was chatting up some bird. I headed straight to the pier and caught a liberty boat out to the carrier, knowing that it was the fastest way back to my Sqn.
"So where is Steve?" JJ asked Heather when she came down after a couple of hours. He'd been waiting patiently for the opportunity to get some bird up to his room but she had to bail.
"Huh?" Heather replied.
"I said, where's Steve? He brought you some flowers about 3 hours ago?"
"Flowers? Major Williams was in my room talking about shaking things up in the flights and he got me some flowers to apologise for monopolising my time today. Oh god, NO! Steve bought me the flowers? I didn't see him. Fuck fuck fuck! The Major answered the door for me then bought the flowers in after I'd had a shower from going to the gym."
"Oh shit, I wonder what the Major said?"
"I haven't seen him JJ, I swear to god I didn't know. Oh god, what have I done."
In less than 12 hours I was back with my flight. Hurting, but knowing full well it was always going to come to this.
It took 49 days before I saw the Ice Queen's Apache again. I waved politely but didn't really pay them any attention. It was just on dusk and we had a payload of Rangers heading up the mountains to eliminate a band of well armed Insurgents. The crew had spent the last 24 hours installing more heavy armour on the Blitzed Angel and the beast was a bit sluggish. I was here because their rear gunner had the squirts so I stepped in for him.
We had one Apache in front and two at our rear. We were belting up a valley, hoping to pop over at the top, and expel our cargo, and piss off back to base.
"WHAT THE FUCK!!!" I heard over the Comms.
"INCOMING!"
Suddenly we were engaged with sustained heavy caliber fire from all directions. The Apaches peeled off looking for targets but we were coping a pounding. I could see muzzle flashes to my left and right. I turned to engage when everything turned surreal for me.
I was being buffeted by the wind. What in hell, I could feel my weight being supported by my safety harness. I reached behind me to steady myself when I spotted the issue and it was bad: real bad. The rear door was hanging off the back of the aircraft by one part of the hinge. The door was almost completely blown off. The down side was, my securing point was also blown off and it seemed it got caught in the twisted metal of the rear gun mount. It was the real definition of so fucked up I should be dead already. This was the cruelest joke as there was no way the chopper could land with me hanging off the back while on a door that was swinging wildly and making it really really hard to fly.
I heard the other choppers following us. One had smoke pouring out of one engine and all three had the Swiss cheese effect down pat. I knew what was coming and I steeled my nerve. The door jerked as it was tearing itself free. I reached up and turned on the infrared strobe I had fitted on my helmet. I knew the Apaches could see my every movement, so I gave a final Salute, reached up pulled my KABAR from its pouch and cut the safety harness. As I did the door ripped free from the Blitzed Angel.
It's not the falling that hurts, it's the sudden stop. I didn't have any source of reference for height when I cut the safety harness. I must have found the only patch of water in this whole stinking desert. It still hurt like fuck when I hit the bottom, but I survived. By the grace of god, I survived. But then I wished I was dead, because the pain kicked in.
I must have lain in the shallow water for hours. Well, so it felt. My helmet was missing and the tail door was about 20 feet away. It felt as if I'd smashed every bone in my body. I rolled over and crawled to the edge.
The Apache crews all watched in disbelief when I had turned saluted then cut the sling. One second I was there next all the cameras could pick up was the infra red strobe. On the camera footage it looked like the rear door impacted upon me and the helmet was rocketed over the edge of the ridge into the valley deep below. Apparently JJ had to fly back to base and he had a hard time following orders to do so.
The first 24 hours were the worst. Not knowing exactly where I was made it difficult to make informed decisions on what to do. I had my survival kit but the shortwave radio was smashed. Not knowing how long I was going to be out here I made plans for the long haul. I made a rudimentary shelter and set up a plan for escape if someone unfriendly came looking. I planned to stay put in case the guys from my Sqn came looking. At least they had an idea of my location.
Little did I know that the camera footage that was captured didn't look favourable for a successful recovery just a body recovery. It was the helmet flying off over the edge when the rear door crashed down was the final straw they deduced I was KIA and the body recovery would be extremely difficult and dangerous. Even the local insurgents wouldn't be able to get to me.
I knew something was wrong when there was no search in the area I went missing in after 3 days. Usually we had an over watch fly the area looking down and I had placed a big as possible sign that I was alive and ok but no choppers. I started to think of a new plan. I had to get the hell off this ledge. I knew I had one chance it was try to pick the least dangerous path down. Hmmm, good luck with that! It was all bad. I decided to go up to the top first to get my bearings.
It took a solid day of climbing from dawn till dusk. I was exhausted—not enough food and next to no water. But the choice was climb to find out where I was or die of starvation on that ledge. It was dark when I stopped climbing. Taking a sip of precious water and a bite of the food, I crawled into a cleft in some rocks and fell into a deep slumber.
I awoke with the sun pounding down. I crawled to the edge and looked down the valley. As I looked I realised it was the one we had flown up only days previously. I could see the village that was the primary target but I also spotted 4 big gun emplacements just below the ridge line facing towards the far end of the valley. The bastards had waited till we were well in the kill zone and tried to mow us down. Well guess what you fuckers you failed. I'm the only one here but the rest got away safely I hope.
I observed the emplacements through the scope on my M4. Hell it must have taken them months to set this place up. The guns were entrenched but it would have been murder getting them up in position. No trail to speak of and it looked treacherous. The gun crews were all alone. They must be semi self sufficient. That meant food and water. Both of which I needed badly. I spent the day observing them in the blistering heat but also looking for a way past. It was dodgy as hell but I had to go for it. To make it worse, I had to do it at night.
Day 5 saw me resting and calming myself for the long night ahead. I used the last of my food but kept the water for the night. It was harder than it looked. I was in poor condition after just 5 days out here but it took another 2 nights to get within 100 yards of the closest gun emplacement. Now I needed shelter to stay out of both sight and the sun.
I hid during the day only getting a fitful sleep maybe from knowing only 100 yards away people would take great pleasure beaming my death or body all over the internet. I didn't want to give them that pleasure. Their security was piss poor. Probably because they knew how difficult it was to get there themselves. I did however take note only 10 people were at the site and comms were rudimentary at best.
It was night. After 8 days alone and the last 2 without food or water, it was now or never. I crept into the camp. The lazy fuckers didn't even have a sentry. I stole food and water, as much as I could carry but not so much that it would be noticed. Now back in my hideout I knew I had to get off this bloody mountain ridge and get this intel back to base.
It took another 10 days to get safely down this fucking mountain, dodging both the sun and enemy insurgents. I knew it was at least a 150 mile hump from the end of the valley back to civilisation. I checked my provisions: not much to go on. I could only hope I'd be spotted by our friendly forces. Otherwise, I'd have to do something even more drastic.
They say every journey starts with the first step. Well, my very survival started like this: I just placed one foot in front of the other over and over. I lost track of the days, but the food and water was long gone ages ago and I had rationed it meagerly. It was so fucking hot during the daylight but I froze at night. "Give me a break," I thought. I was delirious, I didn't hear or even see the chopper fly overhead. I didn't even pay attention when it landed in front of me. I just collapsed when I was lifted off my feet and carried into the belly of the beast. I wondered if this is how it would end.
