Patrols in armored Humvees was another usual occurrence. They usually sent out two squads and he and sergeant Riley split it up. When Mike went his driver was named Smiley from Texas. Smiley was a big Willie Nelson fan had changed Willie’s song ‘On the Road Again’ from ‘making music with my friends’, to ‘making war with my friends.’ He and several other members of his squad sang this song as they were getting ready to go out on patrol. The worst day in Iraq happened in late November. They were getting ready to go out on patrol and singing their version of the song. Mike didn’t join in, but he felt it showed good morale.
Mike was going to lead two squads along one of their patrol routes. He gathered the two sergeants who led the squads along with Riley. “Ok we’re heading out on Patrol. You may have heard that a couple of days ago an Apache shot up some people trying to place an IED on one of the patrol routes. There’s not that many that don’t intersect main roads, so it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out. Most of these things are 155 shells set to blow. I want you to maintain good spacing. If we keep the spacing good, they won’t be able to get two of us with one blast. They may not get one of us good unless they time it perfectly.” The sergeants nodded. Mike continued. “All the Humvees have the extra armor kit so that’s good. I need the gunners’ heads on a swivel. People riding shotgun keep checking the side of the road. If you see somebody watching and then getting on a cell phone, they may be trying to trigger an IED. Remember the ROE, we can’t just shoot them. OK let’s mount up and let’s all come back safe.”
The patrol consisted of seven Humvees and they’d only been out less than an hour when they got hit by and IED. The Humvee in front of Mike was blown over and the gunner and the marine riding shotgun were killed. The diver was severely injured. Mike woke in a field hospital with a bandaged head. After he woke up a nurse called a doctor to came to see him. He gave him some tests looked in his eyes and then told him. “Well you got a pretty good gash on the forehead. It took ten stitches to close it. You might have a slight scar. You also have a mild concussion so you’re under observation for the next day. Then on light duty for two more if everything goes well. Oh, congratulations you got a purple heart. Here’s the piece of shrapnel we got out. It didn’t go very far in.” He dropped a small piece of metal on the tray by Mike’s bed and then patted him on the shoulder and left saying “I’m glad I can do this quickly and you’re not more seriously injured. I’ve got people who are that I’ve got to attend to. If you start getting headaches or fuzzy vision, don’t be a hero get in here ASAP. Oh, good luck Lieutenant.”
Once he left Riley and Simms walked in. He could tell from their expressions that they didn’t have good news. Simms started off. “Mike the doctor said you should get out of here tomorrow and be on light duty for a couple of days. Other than that, you should be good. That’s the good news. The bad news is we lost two people, Rodriquez and Flynn bought it. That brings the KIA total for the battalion up to nine. Not good. Corporal Young, who was driving has a broken arm and some broken ribs. He’ll be here for a while. We’re waiting to see if we have to medevac him back stateside or just put him on light duty. He certainly can’t fight right now.”
They could see Mike was really upset hearing about the losses.
Simms forestalled Mike saying anything. “It’s not your fault. Nothing you could have done except not go out on the patrol at all could have avoided this.”
“LT it’s not your fault.” Added Riley. “You’re a good officer. Everybody feels this, we lost two good men. You’ve got to suck it up for the men, they’re pretty shock up. They’ll look to you to set the tone. We’ll get through this. It comes with the job.” Simms nodded.
“Your right, I’m going to have to get on those letters. Rodriquez was a bachelor and Flynn had a new wife, no kids. None of that makes it any easier on anybody. We still lost two good people. Fuck those assholes. I’ll go see Young when they let me out of this bed.” They talked a bit more and then Mike thanked them for coming by. When they left Mike realized that he was upset and feeling guilty about the deaths. Two young men would never grow any older. They never would have children or do anything else. Their families would take this hard, there was no way to sugar coat this. At least they had the bodies to bury. That was something; he remembered the empty coffins from 9/11. It was all such a waste. Intellectually he knew that he didn’t do anything wrong. It didn’t matter he still felt bad. He just had to let it be and hoped it would pass.
Once he was let out of bed, he went to see Young. They talked for a few minutes and the corporal was grateful that he’d come by. The both felt bad about Rodriquez and Flynn. Once Mike left, he dove back into paperwork and the terrible job of writing the two letters. He spent a good deal of time agonizing over them and finally got them to where he thought they should be. Just to be sure he went to see the Chaplin and he made a couple of minor suggestions; which Mike took. Two days later there was the sad memorial for the two men. Taps and very long hand salute were part of the ceremony. It did give some closure; also a desire to get the bastards who did this. The bodies had already been transported to Baghdad, where they would be flown home on an ‘Angel Flight’. A C-130 carrying the dead. The Marines took care of their fallen. They would be treated with the utmost respect.
With a month to go three of the other bachelor officers in the battalion approached Mike. During the deployment he’d gotten to know them fairly well. “Hey Mike” started Steve “Like to talk to you about something. The three of us have a house we rent off the base. It’s nice, got three bedroom, two baths and is in good shape. The rent is reasonable, and when we’re deployed, we usually sub-let the place, so it’s not a burden. Now this also means getting housing allowance. Now the reason I mention that is our good friend Tim, is leaving the bachelor life as soon as we get back from deployment. He’ll be moving out. Not to mention that he’ll be pinning on railroad tracks and getting a transfer. We were wondering would you be interested in replacing him?”
It sounded pretty good to Mike. He’d had enough of the BOQ. This meant he could live off base, have his hunting and fishing gear. Read his journals, have women over. The last was assuming he could find one who was interested. They talked for a bit more and worked out all the details. At the end of the conversation they’d all agreed on it.
Eventually the end of their tour rolled around and another Battalion arrived to relieve them. Mike was happy for no more deaths and as far as he knew nobody in his platoon had gotten ‘Dear Johned’. There was a two-week turnover and then they headed to Bagdad to get on transports back to the states. The ride back was just as long and as uncomfortable as the flight there. The difference was they were going home. Somehow that made it much more bearable.
When they got back, the Battalion went on stand down. There was the re-integration process for the men. This primarily was for people with families. Mike made sure he took duty for married officers so they could spend time with their wives or if not married then those who had girlfriends. Since Mike was fully single this was not hard, and the duty was relatively easy. He did have to deal with the guys who went out and partied a little too hard. But that’s what they had MPs for. He got his truck going again. He’d prepared it prior to deployment. Put additives to the fuel to stabilize it, disconnected the battery, put it up on jack stands to protect the tires and had a full cover over it. The cover had a lot of bird shit on it, but at least it wasn’t his truck. He got everything ready and a service truck came by and helped jump start it. The Tundra ran a little rough, then it was good. He immediately took it in for an oil change and got a full tank of gas. He also had to get new wiper blades; they’d deteriorated in the heat.
Once everybody had a chance to be with their families, he took three weeks leave. He drove up to New Jersey to see his family for a week and then hung out down the house on the shore for ten days. It was too early to go swimming, but he fished and just relaxed. Hit the Stone Pony and listened to Southside Johnny. It wasn�
�t the boss, but he liked Southside’s music. He especially liked his take of ‘We’re having a party'. It so Jersey. Some of the people who had houses near his parent’s had moved down to the shore permanently. He talked with neighbors about inconsequential things. That felt good and normal. It took a couple of weeks for him to realize that when he drove down the street, he didn’t have to worry about getting blown up by an IED. He was pleased that he wasn’t plagued by nightmares or startled by every unexpected noise. Three weeks of normal was just what the doctor ordered to put his mind in a good place.
His father had some good news. Both patents had been approved and he was getting some money. He got a little under $3,000 for the patent with Dr. Peterson and over $28,000 for his patent off his thesis. This immediately went into his fidelity account. He had plenty of money saved up from his pay since he had nothing to spend it on for so long.
Then it was back down to Lejeune. This time he had his civilian clothes as well as his fishing and hunting equipment. The house was just what the doctor ordered. The fishing equipment went into storage in the garage. The guns went into the third gun safe. Each of roommates had their own and it was passed down from one to the other. Not exactly Montclair style stuff, but these were Marines, and this was North Carolina.
Going semi-prepper
After Iraq Mike wanted a better hunting rifle for bigger game. The .243 Remington he had was fine for whitetail, but he wouldn’t try it on Elk or any other bigger game. A few people who didn’t know any better, recommended an AR-15. That was rejected out of hand. Many states banned them from hunting because they couldn’t reliably put an animal down. Put enough lead into the animal to take it down and it would spoil the meat. What he did like about the AR-15 was that it was so like the M-16 that he could field strip in and put it back together blindfolded. Mike also knew that after 9/11 his father had a special gun safe in the basement where he kept a couple AR-15s, ammo and large capacity magazines. Once the assault weapons ban had lapsed, his father had replaced the Rugers with AR-15s and bought the high capacity magazines. All of which weren’t allowed in New Jersey. Mike’s father really didn’t care after surviving the attack. He seemed to have grown into a min-survivalist.
The AR-15 got Mike to thinking about the AR-10, its big brother. This was an up calibered AR-15. It came in several calibers, but the .308 seemed the most attractive. He started researching the AR-10. There were a number of companies that made either complete guns or provided the parts that you could put one together in a DYI project. Mike had no issue with getting the parts and putting together a custom gun. He could dream about field stripping the M-16 and this was a bigger semi-automatic version. He decided not to try and built his own, that could lead to things not fitting together. He didn’t want to become a gunsmith. He read all the reviews, there were four he liked, LWRCi, KAC, LMT and GA Precision. He wanted a really high quality rifle. Finally, he settled on an LMT it had the ability to switch barrels, which was cool. He got two barrels a 16” and a 20” both in stainless steel. It was expensive but he hadn’t spent much money in Iraq.
Next, he needed to decide on the accessories. This wasn’t a gun for hunting whitetail. He’d replaced his original scope on his Remington 700 a long time ago. He needed a scope that would go with the .308. The range on the .308 was at least 700 yards and with the LMT, he supposedly could go out to 1,000 yards. The scope had to be good for hitting any game reliably at that range. After more research he settled on a Vortex viper scope. It cost almost $500, but it was worth it, especially as he was paying top dollar for the rifle
That left a few more accessories. First a sling, that was sort of a no brainer. Then he picked out 4 Magpul 20 round magazines and molle holders. The rifle came with one 20 round magazine, so that gave him 5. What surprised him was when he suddenly decided he’d add 2 Magpul 25 round magazines and a dual molle magazine holder for them. He changed the flash suppressor for a combination break flash suppressor on both barrels. The final item was a detachable bipod and bipod mount. The bill was up there, and it was a splurge. He idly wondered if he had gone a little too far into survivalist mode. This was a weapon that he could go into battle with and pretty much hold his own. Was this overkill to go hunting?
He had arranged with the local FFL dealer to get the rifle and put everything together, the scope the and all the accessories. The gunsmith had done a good job getting it ready. The scope was zeroed in and it was a beautiful piece of equipment. The scope had a BCD rectile, this supposedly allowed you to automatically adjust your aim out to 600 yards. He’d never used one before, he’d have to come back and zero it in. He picked up 200 rounds of Sierra Game King 180 grain bullets and a cleaning kit that would also work for his Glock. The gunsmith really liked the rifle and walked Mike through some of the details.
On Saturday he and his roommate Steve then went down to the range to dial the AR-10 in. Both Steve and Mike were wearing noise cancelling headphones. These allowed a person to hear normal conversation but cut out when the shot was made. According to the manual, he should zero the scope in at 200 yards based on the bullet he was firing. Resting on bench with sandbags, Mike started firing, with Steve spotting. The BDC rectile had marks below the cross hairs. The first mark under the cross hairs should be at 300 yards. The shots at 300 looked dead on, he looked at Steve and smiled. They got consistent groupings out to 600 yards which was the bottom mark on the BDC. Steve then urged Mike to see how it was at 800 yards and then 1,000 yards. At 800 yards the group was just a bit bigger than one MOA. At 1,000 yards the best Mike could do was 2 MOA. That was very cool in Mike’s opinion. Though he could go out to 1,000 yards, Mike was uncomfortable about shooting at long range when hunting. He’d been taught to take a good clean shot and bring the animal down quickly. He was much more comfortable in the 400 to 500 yard range.
Steve took a turn with the gun and enthused. “Man, this is a good shooting rifle. I can get good hits at 700 yards, no issue. I can also hit 1,000 yards if I’m careful. Want to try the 16” barrel now?”
Mike thought that was a good idea and they waited a few minutes and then used the torque wrench supplied with the gun to loosen the two bolts holding the barrel. The 20” slipped right out and the 16” went right back in. They then took turns with it. At 500 yards they couldn’t see much difference at all. It was at extreme range where the difference finally showed. Up.
When they got back, Mike cleaned the gun thoroughly. The it was stowed in the gun safe that was his. These were in the back of their garage and securely connected to floor. Nobody was going to drive up and haul these away. Inside Mike, Steve and Pete sat around and talked about results of his day shooting. They were all very impressed by the performance of the new rifle. Steve and George both had .30-06 rifles for long range shooting. They also had AR-15s for plinking. Now that Mike had a long range rifle, they started to plan an elk hunting trip out west. Steve though that Colorado was the best place for elk or though Idaho and Utah were also good. As active duty they should get a break on the license, which could be several hundred dollars. They all agreed that if at all possible, they would head out on an Elk hunt.
Steve came home one day and told them that a friend of his girlfriend’s family had a big farm and bad feral pig problem. He’d have no problem with them coming out and hunting some of them. They all decided it would be good practice and help the farmer. That Friday after they got back to the house, the roommates piled in Steve’s truck and drove out to the farm.
There the farmer and older gentleman named Ted Roback met them. “Want to thank you boys for coming out to talk to me. I’ve got a feral hog problem. There must be fifty or so on my property and they’re just tearing it up. They’ve must have cost me at least ten grand already. Y’all hunters?” When he asked this, he was looking at Mike.
So, Mike answered. “Yes sir, I’ve been hunting since I was twelve. Whitetail, ducks and geese mostly. I’m using .308 AR-10 and the other guys are using .30-06. I think those will knock them dow
n.”
“Well I guess you gentlemen are prepared then. Let me take you out and point out where these hogs usually are.
The went out and started walking in the fields. As they got near the edge of one field, they could see things were all rooted up. The hogs were simply destroying the field. They could all believe that they were causing significant damage to the fields and costing a lot of money. Ted pointed out several areas where the hogs usually were. Mike and his roommates promised to be back bright and early the next day to kill some hogs.
The next morning, they got up well before dawn and got ready. Each of them was wearing a hunting vest and a bright orange cover. They packed up the rifles and ammo and headed out in Steve’s truck. They got to the farm and Ted met them with steaming cups of coffee. They stood around drinking the coffee and getting ready to head out. Ted told them just to shoot the hogs and he’d pick them up latter.
They spread out and walked in line towards the woods. They’d just gotten into the woods when they could hear the hogs ahead of them. The used hand signals to spread out and made sure that they were ready to shoot. Thirty more yards and they saw at least twenty-five hogs tearing up the ground. They maneuvered and signaled which part of the group they’d each hit. Once they opened fire the hogs scattered. They still managed to get ten of them. As Ted had said, they just left them there. They kept walking silently through the woods in a line abreast. Before noon they’d killed another six hogs. With that they called it a day and headed back to the farmhouse.
Ted met them and was thrilled when they told him that they got sixteen of the hogs. Ted’s wife came out with grilled ham and cheese sandwiches and a cold beer for each of them. They sat around talking to Ted and his wife about the hogs, hunting in general and the Corps. They promised to come back in two weeks and do another hog sweep. Ted thought that if they killed enough of them, they’d stay away from his property.
Through the Gate: The Chronicles of Cornu Book 1 Page 28