Unorthodox Mission

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Unorthodox Mission

The helo we were in dropped down a bit in altitude.  The side-gunner flipped his safety on and off in anticipation.  Our mission was simple: exit the chopper, head due North ten blocks to a fast-food place, find out why the unit that’s supposed to be embedded there isn’t responding, secure the rooftop, pop green smoke, ride the chopper out.  Oh, and one more thing; Kill anything that moves. 

We were told the civilians have a serious and contagious disease.  They may move, but they’re already dead.  Don’t let them touch you, don’t touch their blood.  Don't hesitate to shoot. That’s pretty much it.  Rather than put on the full bulk of a chemical suit and mask, we had goggles, gloves, and a handkerchief to cover our mouths.  It wouldn’t be what you call the “standard uniform”, but nothing about this mission was standard.  

The Crew Chief gave the ready signal.  The bird was going to hover at 40ft for two minutes while the side gunners cleared out any hostiles.  Then we’d rope out, group up and move out. 

 Both fifties spat their rounds out as we hovered.  There people out there.  At least they were people.  Their clothes were tattered and ripped.  They bled from their eyes as they shuffled along.  They made noise.  It was like a moan with no words formed.  Just moaning.  They seemed to be drawn to the noise of the chopper.  That noise intensified as the fifty cals opened up.  We were told it might take multiple rounds to take them down.  Told that they will have to be physically unable to move before they stop.  With weapons the size of the fifties firing, it just didn’t matter.  Bullets that size just tore through the shuffling masses.  When they hit dead center, most of them literally exploded.  I had seen engagements with this size weapons before, but I’ve never seen the enemy just keep walking forward as they were summarily turned to a red spray.  I’m not a morbid person usually, but it was just pretty incredible to see.  It was almost like a game.  No remorse, they were already dead.  I think it dawned on the rest of my team.  They were visibly excited.  We were all going to be able to use all of our training and have no remorse whatsoever.  

We dropped in among the splatter and picked our way through the bodies.  It was a little less exciting because we knew we wanted to avoid the blood.  That was a bid hard, but we picked our way through.  We booked it North as the chopper hovered and fired.  It would protect our rear for a bit and continue to attract attention.  We were already halfway there before it moved out.  

We double-timed it in a tight formation.  Four men led the front dropping anything that showed itself.  It was a little bit more difficult than with the fifties.  Our M-16’s weren’t quite as powerful.  You could kill them instantly if you shot them right in the head, but it’s not like they held their heads still as they bobbled forward.  Hitting center-mass barely phased them, though it did make them stutter a step.  The legs turned out to be the best option for M-16’s.  A quick three-shot burst  dropped them and then all they could do is crawl, effectively neutralizing them.  We used a grenade launcher on a group with mixed results.  It was still all about where it hit them.  The ones that were close to the explosion got blown to pieces, case closed, but the ones farther out, the ones that just took shrapnel, it barely slowed them down.  We did have a couple of SAWs.  They fired faster and had a larger round than the M-16’s.  So I put those guys in front and we were on our way.   A quick burst of five or six rounds with the SAW, even if they were center-mass, and the bodies were so broken and damaged that were just a crumpled, thrashing pile on the ground.  We covered the rest of the ground quickly and got to the restaurant.  

There didn’t seem to be any movement.  We formed a semi-circle on the side of the building and Jenkins went up the ladder with a drawn pistol.  He peaked over the top and aimed his pistol.  Three shots fired and then he moved up far enough over the edge to hold the pistol in both hands.  Four more shots and he gave the signal for all clear.  We all hustled up the ladder, covering each other as we went.  Apparently there had been one hostile on the rooftop, but Jenkins took care of it with his pistol.  

The rooftop was a bloodbath.  There were ten soldiers, all with many, many, wounds.  It looked like all of them had bullet wounds and shrapnel bits.  It was such a mess.  There didn’t seem to be a clue as to what happened.  I put two guns on each side of the building and kept the radioman in the center with me.  Now that they were able to fire from a supported position and nothing was coming at us with a purpose, we could pick our shots for maximum effectiveness.  The boys fell into a zone and let their training take over.  

>If I could only figure out what was going on here, just some clue, we could pop smoke and get the hell out.  Then Mills yelled over, “We’ve got a live one!”  I ran over as fast as I could.  I have no idea how the guy was still alive.  “Medic”, I yelled!  Cazic came over and checked the guy out.  He seemed responsive.  “What happened?”  I asked.  He just sat there staring.  I couldn’t handle it.  I yelled, “What happened? Tell me!” and I shook his shoulders.  He started laughing, then coughing.  He stopped and his voice was barely a whisper.  “Arnold….. did …. It.  He, he …. Must have…. gotten bitten or…. got blood in….. a wound or ….something.  He, …. He,… fired on us.  He had…. A sixty.  Didn’t have…. A chance.  Something blew.  Probably…. A… grenade.  Doesn’t…… matter….. now. “  I said “Listen kid, we got a chopper, we’re going to get you out.”  He just shook his head.  “Too late.”  You could barely hear him.  Then he stopped moving.  I stood up and looked to Marson on the radio.  “Call the chopper.  Pop smoke.”

We looked down at the smoking city as the chopper hauled us off.  What in the hell was happening?