hot

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It's hot.

I can feel the sun burning the parts of my skin not covered by some form of tactical equipment. Besides that, I'm sweating from the overall temperature.  Anything more than 20 meters out looks like a mirage from the heat radiating in the air. People in the distance look more like ghosts than anything else. I know that it's only a matter of time before this heat gets to me. I'm wearing an extra 65 pounds of gear, just like always, and none of it is known for being breathable or pleasant.

It's so hot.

The air is so dry you can taste the dirt in it; it's a little more bitter today than it was yesterday. Taking a drink of water doesn't help much either, it only makes it seem that much worse since that's warm now too. I try to think about being somewhere else, somewhere cooler, but it only works for a few seconds. I'm interrupted by the static in my ear, being told that I need to hold my position until further notice. I pass the information along to my team that we're gonna sit tight, and to stay sharp. We all know that we're not in a very safe place and that it's only a matter of time before something happens. The one thing we don't know, however, is when and how bad it's about to be. It's been just over two days since I slept and I can't remember how long it was for. I know that I ate a few hours ago, but I don't remember what that was either, I don't care. All I really know is that I'm not hungry, I'm not tired yet, and I'm expecting the worst scenario possible to become my reality. That's how things seem to work around here; s****y.

My team is posted up outside a small village, on the eastern side of the Korengal Valley. None of us are too happy about it. We all know that this is a bad place to be, simply because anywhere in the Korengal Valley is a bad place to be. This is all Taliban controlled territory, and they know we're here. They've been following us for the last two days, watching us move, occasionally shooting at us to see how we'll react. I have a feeling that they're trying to get us to go in a certain direction because they keep pushing us east. They're trying to set us up for something. None us know what, but we all know it can't be good. The call to hold fast is almost a relief for most of us. Any chance to stop moving over this horrendous and unforgiving terrain is always much appreciated. Today is no different. Despite our relief, we know that we've made ourselves stationary targets for an already watchful enemy.
My team is six Rangers with one medic, two Navy Seals, two Delta operators, and an Air Force combat controller: the standard spec ops strike team. We move in two teams of six, with two of my actual guys in the other team, replaced by one Seal and one Delta. We're the assault team, or strike team. The other half is the support and medical team. Most people don't know that other branches of service work together in mixed teams like this, but it's only common in the special operations community. We all compliment each others skill set with the particular background we're known for, and we all work together like a well oiled machine. A machine designed to make dirty work look easy, and we're highly efficient.

The sun is somewhere around 3 o'clock when I look up. I know this because I remembered seeing 1451 on my watch not that long ago. My mind starts to mix with thoughts of how beautiful some of the landscape is here. The clouds are the big puffy kind that remind me of laying on the beach, in Hawaii, and for a minute, I feel like I'm there. I can almost taste the ocean in the air, smell the salt in it. Just as I start to lose myself in thought, the first round cracks past me. At first, none of us were sure if it was a shot or not. A few seconds later, there was no question about it; rounds are peppering everything around us. They're trying to pin us down, there must be another group of them moving to one of our flanks.
As hot as it is, my body gets a cold chill the second I see the first RPG screaming towards us. I shout out "incoming!" and brace for the impending explosion. The round hits 10 feet in front of us and throws debris everywhere. Nobody is seriously wounded, but everybody is definitely pissed off now. I can't tell how many there are because they only stick their heads up for a few seconds at a time, and they're constantly changing positions. This isn't the first time we've went up against these guys. They've figured out that if they stay in the same place for too long, we'll call in an airstrike. They're trying to mimic our shoot and scoot tactics since it seems to work against them when we do it. They keep a steady volume of fire on us, and mix in RPG rounds, with the hope that it'll keep us pinned down. Times like these always reassure me that splitting into two teams was a good idea.
Our support team hears us make contact and radios us for instructions. After a minute or two, they're caught up to what we're dealing with, and the decision is made for them to break off and seek high ground. I'd rather have them at a higher vantage point to provide sniper cover and to let us know what we're up against. It doesn't take long for them to get to a good spot to see what's going on. They let me know that they count twenty, and they're pretty well dug in. They also let me know that there's no real option for them to flank us. Hearing good news like that puts my mind at ease and I start talking with my guys about how we wanna press through our objective. Just after we decide to go straight at them, the static in my ear starts back up. This time, the news isn't so good. I'm told that there's a small village, 300 meters past the dug in position, and the count is 50 plus enemy combatants in route. Being slightly pinned down is one thing; being pinned down so our enemy can increase their numbers is something different altogether.

This heat is starting to get to me.

Since we were already pinned down, I make the call to pull back a little bit and prep for a flanking mission. It won't be a walk in the park, but it'll be a hell of a lot easier than trying to go head first into more than 70 Taliban soldiers. I don't get any arguments from the guys, so we get the rest of the team back to our location, strip our gear down as much as we can, and leave two guys behind to watch it. Even stripped down to my assault gear, I'm carrying an extra 30-35 pounds, but I feel light on my feet. I call in for an overwatch element, which is usually an apache helicopter, to lay down some cover fire for us to get into position. Just like we planned, the bird hovers over a spot that we could have moved to, and just as we expected, the baddies assume that we're being covered by it. We tell the pilot to break off and "take a lap". What that means is: we want him to fly away and make a big circle to come back to our location. We usually go with 8 minutes per lap. In that time, the enemy does exactly what they always do; they start to push towards where they think we are. They think they're about to overrun an American position, with the hopes of taking a few prisoners to torture on film, until they cut his head off. That's what they do. That isn't gonna happen if I'm ever involved.
We watch as they blindly move towards an empty location, while we move closer to theirs. The apache pilot let's us know that he's 2 minutes away from his first lap, and we give him our location so he knows where to come in from. We let him know to go "weapons free" after he crosses the finish line and to make sure he's light when he leaves.

30 seconds......it's still hot.

The pilot gives us the ten second warning,  we pop a smoke grenade and throw it ten feet in front of us, then we sit tight and enjoy the show. It doesn't last as long as most of us would prefer, but it's one hell of a show any way you look at it. I get more chills, but these are from excitement. Hellfire missiles, and a 25mm cannon on fully automatic is something worth seeing. It doesn't wipe out the enemy altogether, but it does enough damage to make our job easier. The dug in position is now very much dug up, and ready for our assault. Just another day at the office.
"All rounds complete, we're feelin light", is what we need to hear from the pilot, which only takes a couple of minutes. We open up with our own fire and start pressing towards the objective. They're confused and disoriented, they don't understand what's going on; they all know that they're about to die. Just like the well oiled machine that we are, we sweep through what's left with surgical precision. There were close to 30 left for us to handle, which was easy enough after the air support did its job. Like we were taught to do, we double tap every target as we move along; if it moves it dies. Have fun with your 72 virgins, a*****e.

You can't expect things to always go perfectly in the realm of combat. There's always an exception to the standard, the status quo, as it were, and it's kind of an odd feeling to be honest. Up until now, every mission my team and I completed was always bittersweet. No matter how well things went, there was always something unfortunate that happened which resulted in one, or more, of our own not making it through. Even when we were nearly perfect it was never perfect enough to keep everyone alive. I feel strangely overwhelmed with a feeling of elation and relief, to the point that it makes me uncomfortable. It's my first true taste of survivors guilt, and it tastes disgusting. My mind is then washed over with thoughts of how things went wrong in the past, and how this time was no different besides the end result. Doubt becomes the only thing on my mind, consuming every idea in my head. I can't grasp the concept that it's taken me until now to keep the people around me alive. What have I been doing wrong? I struggle to maintain my composure, stifling my emotions just enough to find somewhere quiet. At first, I think I'm about to lose my s**t and start crying, but that doesn't happen. I slowly start convincing myself that there was nothing I could do about it, at least that's what tell myself.
I know that I can't control who lives or dies in combat, it's just not possible. There's no way that I can plan for every scenario because this place is highly unpredictable at best. The only thing I can do is remember. Remember that, sometimes, all the right decisions won't be enough. There's no such thing as the perfect place to be when it's combat, unless you're watching it from home. And so I push forward. The entire process of my grief and dismay lasts about 7 minutes; I don't have time to sit around and contemplate why things are the way they seem to be, I have a war to wage. My displeasure with this place has no actual bearing on how I need to conduct myself.

Two days ago, I struggled with how I've managed to live, in spite of the people around me who haven't. None of that really matters to me anymore. Being here has stripped me of most of my emotions, chief among them being sympathy. Maybe it's because I've barely slept since that day, and that my mind has become warped from the adrenaline and violence. Maybe this is just what I've become as a byproduct of that environment, I don't know. I've discovered so many things about myself since I came here. A lot of good things, and a lot of bad things that seem to be good for a s****y place like this. I wonder if the heat has finally got to me. It's good to know that I can still make rapid decisions after being up for three days, that I can still think clearly. I don't shake or tremble when my adrenaline spikes in the opening stages of a fire fight. I'm a lot stronger, mentally, than I ever thought I would be. These are all good things to find out about yourself. However, with the good also comes the bad. I don't feel bad when I kill someone. I don't feel the slightest bit of remorse for any amount of pain or suffering I cause. I despise any signs of weakness in the people around me, to the point that I've become almost intolerable of it. As much as I feel good about being good at what I do, I feel like it's somehow destroying me from the inside at the same time. It's an unsettling feeling at best, but I keep it tucked away from the people around me. I have to. The one thing I've been exceptionally good at is not showing weakness. I pride myself on it. I have taken it upon myself to set the example of how to act in place like this. If I'm one of the leaders in the group, what choice do I have?

I hate how hot it gets here.

Reviews

[Michael Perez]

The amount of detail and imagery make this a great work. I would love to read more about his experiences! Amazing story, and stirs up the American spirit, and for that, I thank you. This has been a very enlightening story, and if you put more stories like this one, I would suggest hitting the publishing button! Nice write. :D

[x_ranger]

I'm fairly new to this site, so I haven't quite figured out everything I can do on here. I appreciate that you like my writing, but I don't know if I'm ready for publishing yet. Then again, I might have no clue of what I'm talking about.

[Michael Perez]

Well, it IS your decision. The imagery is just fantastic! Keep up the good work, just know that you are a natural. Of course, I'm just a teen, but I really think you have a great skill.

[Stanley Wilson]

respect to you and your fellow brothers in ARMS I can associate with the emotion in this read thoroughly enjoyed reading your work

[x_ranger]

Thanks.