What Am I Doing Here? (Part 1)

This is the first of 3 accounts of what happened during my time in Iraq in 1991; it is all true, nothing has been added, embellished or taken away.

 

March, 1991.

     I was on patrol as the Medic attached to part of Reconnaissance Troop, 40 Commando Royal Marines, just north of Mosul in Northern Iraq. I was 20 years old and was armed with the SA80 assault rifle, a weapon I had not fired before; I had trained with the older SLR three years prior in basic training. I had received a good solid 15 minutes worth of training on the SA80 beforehand, so that was okay then...

     The Iraqi terrain was an arid, rocky region interspersed with sporadic communications towers and shattered buildings; a stark reminder of the suppressed Kurdish uprisings of 1988. During the Iraqi Government's Anfal campaign between 50 and 100,000 Kurds were slaughtered. Only hours earlier we had stood at the foot of a field of stone laden graves that stretched into the sweltering distance. Not to put too finer a point on it, it was a s****y place. 

     We crested a small rise and I pushed my Kevlar helmet up slightly so I could flick the sweat from my forehead. I'd had the presence of mind to write, Born to Heal across it to underline the fact that I was indeed a Medic and not a Marine; few people seemed to find it funny. A soft breeze cooled the sweat on my face and I closed my eyes against it, feeling the slight prickle and sting of sand that came with it. 

     There was a faint whizz-crack in the distance, followed by another and another. A further whizz-crack seemed closer still and caused my left ear to buzz.

     "F*****g down - down down!!"

     "Contact at 10 oclock, small mound, by the tree!"

     My eyes shot open as somebody grasped the belt of my webbing and hauled me to the ground with a thud.

     "F**k's sake Doc!"

     I twisted and squirmed onto my stomach, my heart thumping in my chest. 

     "Got it pinged!"  Somebody shouted. 

     What the f**k was going on? 

     "Do you want to get yourself f*****g killed? F*****g switch on!!"  The Corporal grasped my arm. My mind was whirling. 

     "What's going on?" 

     His eyes never left a point in the distance, just ahead and off slightly to the left. "We've got a contact, maybe two shooters up ahead by the tree." 

     Movement to my left caused me to jump as the Sergeant crawled up beside me. "You all right sunshine?"

     "F**k me."  Was pretty much all I could say. 

     The Sergeant gave a quick grin.  "First fire-fight, eh?"

     I nodded and he winked. 

     "Right fellas!" He roared.  "You got em? Small rise, left of the tree!" 

     The Marines acknowledged. Another ripple of gunfire drifted in from overhead and I could hear the whizz-cracks getting closer. 

     "Suppressing fire! Get as many f*****g rounds down on those rag heads as you can!"

     -One of the best defenses is a good offence. So, using large volumes of firepower to pin down an enemy is useful to get the enemy to stop firing at you. When the enemy is pinned in his/her shelter from your supressive fire, you can get a teammate to take out the enemy taking cover. He can do this by flanking around, past your line of fire, to near the sheltered enemy's front-  

     The world suddenly exploded around me, bright flashes of muzzle fire, the crash, snap and whine of rounds and the smell of cordite. 

     "Come on Doc, get some f*****g rounds down!"  The Sergeant said. I swear his eyes were on fire, a veiled madness burning from past fire-fights from the Falklands to the steets of Northern Ireland and places I couldnt even imagine. [indent]Dust kicked up behind us as several rounds slammed into the ground; it was answered by a volley of gunfire that was deafening. I brought my weapon to bear and aimed at the spot, I pulled the trigger. 

     My guts suddenly turned to ice. 

     I squeezed again and again, nothing. I shook my rifle and pulled hard on the trigger. 

     F**k all. 

     My weapon was dead. 

     The Sergeant leaned over and casually flicked a small lever on my rifle.  "Safety, Doc." The SA80 suddenly blazed into life churning up the ground ten feet ahead of me as I clung on to the trigger. 

     "F*****g matelots..." The Sergeant shook his head and signalled to me the right direction to fire. 

     Gritting my teeth, I waited for the next wave, pressing my cheek into the hotness of the weapons stock and breathing small puffs of dirt into the air. When it came, I raised my weapon and squeezed the trigger, feeling it bite and buck in my grip. Each round delivered thudded into my right shoulder like a boxer's punch as I held onto the trigger for dear life. Every round that was spent was like a body blow and I felt a little piece of me decay with it. 

     My magazine empy, I slammed back down into the ground and tried to reload, my hands were shaking too much and I couldnt force the full magazine back into its housing. 

     F**k this, what am I doing here? 

     The fire-fight was over before I knew it, although the violence could have raged for 5 minutes or 5 hours, I couldn't tell you. Before long the Corporal and his fire team trotted back, he didn't say much but his face said it all. Job done. 

     I knelt in the dirt for a while while the lads reloaded their weapons, the Sergeant did mine for me. 

     "You all right sunshine?" He said. 

     "Yeah." 

     "Good lad."  He hauled me to my feet and handed me my rifle. "Wanna see him?" 

     "No," I said.

 

What Am I Doing Here? (Part 2) A Story by Howie { Remixing & Reposting }

Author's Note

A 'Matelot' is the slang term for 'Sailor' used by the UK's Armed Forces.

Reviews

[Narnie]

'Every round that was spent was like a body blow and I felt a litle piece of me decay with it. '

I find it so hard to review stories of real life war episodes. A part of me just wants to sit hear and cry - so I do. Your writing is superb. Your ability to speak straight to whoever, one to one, is unquestioned. I will have tissues handy next time.

[An Ordinary Woman]

Hi Howie. I came back for another read. Still, it's as wonderful as ever. thx.

xx

[.Bunnie.]

-.- *handsface* Soldiers....*gets the box of tissues before I even read this*

Okay...I didn't cry...but I think this is about the time that I pounce on you and NEVER let you back there ever ever again!!!!!!!!!!!!! -.- *big sigh of relief*

^.^ Hey...*snicker*...if you were 20 in 91...I was only 3 years old!!!!!!!!!!!! *snicker*

Err yes right okay review: Fantastic job at detail and imagery!! I could totally feel my own gut clenching in fear and adrenaline as I read this, wondering what was going to happen next as I'm sure you were at that point in time.

^.^ You're steadily becoming my favorite writer ever, Howie!!!

[Chantal-lise Mirman]

Howie, this is a harsh, but excellent war story written with an astounding attention to detail that makes it all the more gruesome. You would make an awesome war correspondent, though that seems an ultimately mind-numbing and thankless task. You have incorporated your own vivid experiences with a bit of historical background and given us a taste of the military command mentality that is more than a little scary. The effect on you is obvious, and we cannot help but empathize.

"No," I don't want to see this either, but perhaps that is part of the problem with wars conducted on foreign shores - it is too easy to distance ourselves from the unpleasant (to put it mildly) effects. Look at how long it took me to read this, despite being one of your biggest fans! I'm with Narnie on this one... war makes me sick, and all the weeping in the world cannot remedy the cold, hard facts. Soldiers basically have to be brainwashed into functioning as automatons to be able to respond to orders without question, and to view "the enemy" with utter detachment in order to kill. That is why there is such a high rate of PTSD with returning soldiers. That mindset is not conducive to civilian society.

Having at least the mission to heal must have helped, but I'm sure was ironic at the same time. To have such seemingly contradictory goals and be able to press on and actually do some good in the midst of chaos is admirable. Despite a perhaps somewhat jaded view of the world, you seem to have survived relatively intact and sane (I stress the word relatively). You are my new hero.

I guess there is no need to mention that this is going into my favorites, and will be the first piece I've rated 100% (only because their is no higher ranking).

[dawnsue541]

This story made me feel concern for you as a person as none other has. I am not sure why.

[Creepy Swine Guy]

Great story. There are some typos, but they can't detract from the grit, the reality with which you tell your story. You point out that the valor and heroism that we see in the movies are accompanied with confusions and natural human fear. You show us that bravery isn't the absence of fear, but the ability to overcome the paralysis that fear brings. Gritty and solidly told. I'm gonna note a few of the typos that I caught here not to tear down your work, but to help you make it look as perfect as it reads:

>>>...shelter from your supressive fire,...>... a volley of gunfire that was defeaning.>...and I felt a litle piece of me decay with it.>Each round delivered thudded into my right shoulder like a boxer�s punches...

[Phillip J Clayton]

i love it man, it felt like a movie, but i'm just a visual person lol, so i guess i pictured it in my mind.

going on to part 2 now :D

[An Ordinary Woman]

These (parts 1-3) are the best writings I have read here. I am totally humbled by them, and you too, actually. I must sound so lame, but I really don't care. I just don't know what to say, really. I mean, it isn't JUST the writing, although the writing is fantastic, the story within is remarkable.

I wish you the very best life has to offer and more.
Thank you so much for sharing and wow, just thank you.

[Poetic Justice]

I'm sucked in, and I love your writings. Excellent work, writing and otherwise.

Sometimes I don't really know what to say and this is one of those times but this is the best I've read since I have been here at the cafe.

totally engrossed here, totally.

[King Pooface]

Wow, great story. I'm pretty happy I'm not in the army. I don't think I'd like killing people. Very few people do. Great story though. Love it.