It took us a couple of minutes to settle down enough that we could speak again. “Damn, Pup!” Boom managed between laughs. “I’ve had some guys do some crazy stuff to me before, but none of them ever broke my nose!”
“I gotta say,” Rabbit added, “I think I would have dumped you, too!” She managed to sober up a bit. “When you told us that she hadn’t spoken to you since your R&R, we figured that she must have dumped you and didn’t have the guts to tell you. We’ll lay off of her for a day or two. That should give you enough time to talk to her and get your shit straight.” I couldn’t argue with that. I did need to speak to Mayumi and at least get her to end things with me officially. I started to walk over to thank them, but Rabbit stopped me. “Don’t come near us, Pup! We’re both in the shower, and I don’t want to find out what you might manage to break on either of us!” I had to agree with that logic, so I gave them a goodbye wave over the dividers and left the showers.
As soon as I got an opportunity, I went to Mayumi’s tent. I knocked on her door and was told to enter. I walked in and was greeted with the words, “Oh. It’s you.”
Amazingly, that isn’t the most unpleasant greeting I’ve ever received. “Do you think we can talk?” I asked.
“Oh, so now you want to talk?” That response brought me up short. She seemed to be the one that was avoiding speaking to me. When I pointed that out, she decided to set the record straight. “I have been sitting around in Japan for months waiting to hear from you! No e-mail, no phone call, and no letter? You didn’t even have the decency to dump me with a message!”
I stammered for a minute. “I . . . but . . . you . . . it’s just . . . broken nose!” If that didn’t make my point, I didn’t know what would!
“What about it?” Was it possible that I might have met someone a little more naive than me?
“Miss Ogawa, I don’t know what things are like in Japan, but where I come from, breaking someone else’s nose doesn’t raise one’s future dating potential.”
“Well it doesn’t in Japan either!” she shouted back. I figured that pretty much made the end of our very brief relationship official, so I turned to leave. I stopped when I heard a much softer tone of voice call after me. “But neither does picking someone up and running with them, or knocking over tables, or saying you’re going to become an expert on someone’s equipment.” I had forgotten about that one. Why couldn’t she? “None of those things kept me away from you.”
“So I didn’t write to you because you hadn’t written to me, and you didn’t write to me because I hadn’t written to you?”
“How messed up are we?”
“Well, I can’t speak for you, but I plan on having a psychological disorder named after me.” She giggled. Wow, had I missed that giggle!
Have you ever noticed how there are some movies where the main characters always find themselves in a romantic situation and start to move in for a kiss and then always get interrupted by someone or something? I used to laugh at those movies. I don’t anymore. Whoever wrote those movies was also cruel enough to write the narrative of my life. Just as Mayumi and I started to move closer together, the camp PA system shouted out, “All squads form up for emergency briefing! All squads form up for emergency briefing!”
I ran to the door and then made myself stop and hold it open. See what I mean about that conditioning of manners? “After you, Mayumi.”
In a voice that would have done my drill sergeant proud, she replied, “That’s Lieutenant Ogawa to you, Private!” With an instinct borne out of basic training, I immediately straightened to attention. She began to walk out with military-crisp steps but stopped beside me and ran a finger along my cheek. “You are so much fun!” She broke into a run, and I found myself chasing after her to formation.
As soon as we were all in formation, I knew something serious was going on. We were standing in the pouring rain at sunset, and the Professor was already geared up and looking more serious than I had ever seen him. He ordered us at parade rest and then spoke loudly over the rainfall. “The North Koreans and their allies are trying something new this year! They’ve decided to take advantage of the rainy season and the obstacles it creates. They have begun a large-scale infantry offensive, exploiting the difficulties that heavy armor and wheeled vehicles can have on the soggy ground.” As if to emphasize the point, the Professor’s boot sunk several inches into the mud. He had to stop his briefing for a moment to extricate himself. (Extricate! Another multipoint word!) “There is a small village about forty klicks northeast of here that is going to be overrun soon. That village is now our responsibility. Do not mistake this for a defensive mission. We cannot hold this village. There are not enough of us and the advancing North Koreans are supported by heavy artillery that we cannot counter at the moment. Our job is to evacuate the village and get the civilians to safety while division command prepares for a counterattack.” Thunder and lightning interrupted him, and it made me think of what flying to the village in a storm like this was going to be like. I started feeling a little sick to my stomach. “The main road to the village is not paved, and our trucks cannot reach them. We will be brought in by helicopter, and we will organize an evacuation to two klicks south of the village, which is the closest paved road. Trucks will meet us there to carry the civilians to safety.”
The Professor stopped talking for a moment and looked at each squad as if evaluating whether we were ready to hear what he had to say. After checking on our demeanor, he came to the conclusion that we could handle it. “As soon as the evacuation is over, we will return to Camp Wildcat and make preparations to bug out. The enemy will have a large force less than an hour’s drive from this camp. If division can’t stop them, then we have to leave. Most of you have already seen combat, and many of you are on your second or even third tour, but let me make this very clear: this war just got real. Even if division stops the advance, we can plan on being part of any counter-maneuvers that are implemented. We are going to be doing large-scale infantry versus infantry contacts, and it is likely to be bigger than any of us have ever faced. I know you all. I trust you all. I know that if we are faced with the enemy’s greatest soldiers, or even their most fearsome dogs, the Wildcats will prevail!” A cheer rose up from the platoon, and several nearby soldiers clapped me on the back. Would I ever live down the dog incident? At least they hadn’t heard about what happened the first time that I went fishing.
As soon as the Professor dismissed us, we all ran around in what can be politely referred to as a chaotic ballet to get our gear, weapons, and anything else we might need for a rapid deployment. I had taken a few steps and realized that not everyone might know what to do. I glanced back and saw Mayumi looking confused. Before I could turn around to try and help her, I saw Boom and Rabbit grab her by the arms and lead her away. They were either going to help her get equipped rapidly or take her behind a tent and beat the snot out of her. I was really hoping it was to help her get equipped. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to concern myself with it since I had to get myself prepared, and the clock was ticking.
The helicopters arrived a few short minutes later. This was about as nasty a situation as we could have been put into. The rain was pouring down in buckets, it was getting dark, we didn’t have time to study maps of the area, we were uncertain of the enemy’s strength, and flying in helicopters still scared me and this time it was going to be in a storm! Somebody throw in a Godzilla monster rampaging through the center of the camp and my worries would be complete. My squad plus Mayumi rapidly boarded the helicopter and strapped ourselves in. The helicopter took off with a lurch, and the winds caused it to shake in a way I had not experienced. Just as I thought that panic would overtake me for the first time since diving, someone did what they had refused to do before: they closed the helicopter doors. It was a little stuffy inside because of the enclosed space, but at least we weren’t getting pelted with rain and the wind noise decreased signific
antly.
Not everyone on the bird thought that the closed doors was such a good thing. Mayumi shuddered when the doors closed as though someone had just closed her into her coffin. I noticed that she nervously flipped the safety switch of her carbine on and off underneath her dripping poncho. She wasn’t looking at the windows or the doors but instead at her feet, as if she were preventing them from running somewhere by sheer force of will. Now I truly understood how I looked when I was a cherry. I wanted to reach across and take her hand to comfort her, but she was supposed to be an officer from an allied nation. It would have looked bad for both of us. I floundered about for some way to surreptitiously (man! I am cranking out the cool words!) comfort her and get her settled before we reached our landing zone. Looking about the cabin of the helicopter, my eyes settled on the front of Jethro’s helmet. There, attached to a bracket, were the night vision goggles that Mayumi was there to evaluate. “Lieutenant Ogawa!” I called out over the drone of the helicopter’s motor. “Are we going to have any problems with our goggles in the rain?”
Mayumi’s eyes shot up from her feet at the mention of her name, but it seemed to take her a moment to realize what I was asking her. “Goggles?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I pointed to the goggles mounted to my own helmet. “Are there going to be any issues with them in the rain? If so, how do we correct?”
Mayumi stammered for a moment, but she soon fell into the familiar and comfortable technical aspects of her work. All of the soldiers in the bird were quiet and listening as she began her impromptu briefing on the gear. “The full-color NVGs have been tested in simulated typhoon conditions and suffered a malfunction rate of less than five percent. In the unlikely event that your goggles should cease function . . .” I listened carefully to what she was saying and was happy that she was saying it with a calm and even voice. I guess that techno-babble is her happy place. Mine is the bridge of the starship Enterprise. That’s a whole different story. I saw Rabbit looking over at me. She gave me a thumbs-up. Another thing done right. If I wasn’t careful I was going to make this a habit.
It didn’t take long for the helicopters to eat up the distance between Camp Wildcat and the village we were charged with evacuating. Mayumi had just finished explaining how to reset the goggles when I heard a noise that I had never heard before. It sounded like the world’s biggest zipper being torn open, and it was coming from just a few feet from where I was sitting. With a start I turned around and saw that the side gunners in the cabin were firing their miniguns. If you’ve never seen one before, there is nothing “mini” about a minigun. It’s a .30-caliber multi-barrel machine gun that spins at a remarkable speed and spits out bullets faster than Hollywood makes bad movies. The guy who named it a minigun probably also had a five-hundred-pound brother that he called Tiny. The tracers create the appearance of a laser shooting from the side of the helicopter to the ground. When aimed well, it is devastating to its targets. This was the first time that the gunners had ever had to use it on a helicopter I was riding in. It was terrifying. I could only imagine what it was like for the guys on the ground that they were shooting at.
“Heads up!” Hannibal shouted to the cabin. “The gunners just opened up on an enemy advanced recon patrol. They say they saw no more movement after they sprayed the area, but it means that the enemy is getting closer. Consider this a hot insertion, and be ready to fight the moment your boots hit the ground!”
“Can I keep my boots in here and not have to fight?” I thought.
“No, Pup! I’ll drag you out of here by your family jewels if I have to!” Wow . . . I guess I must have said that out loud. I really have to watch that sort of thing.
The helicopter flared and the doors opened. The gunners didn’t fire out of concern for civilians in the area, but their fingers were resting on the triggers. As soon as we were low enough, we stood in a crouch and moved to the doorway, jumping out onto the muddy ground. I saw Mayumi start to stand up and then wince in pain before reaching down and unfastening her harness. Has there ever been a study by the army about how often that happens? I know it’s happened at least twice. Isn’t that enough to peak anyone else’s curiosity?
As soon as we hit the ground I could hear the Professor shouting out orders. “We’ve got enemy interference on the radios, so listen up! Camper, you and your squad advance to the road and make certain that we have a clear path! Psycho and Gameshow, your squads need to organize the villagers and escort them to the road! Hannibal, deploy your squad north of here about half a klick and delay any advanced enemy elements! Move out!”
I lowered my night vision goggles and got a much better picture of what was going on. Villagers were being gathered in several locations already. The village only had a couple hundred occupants, and although they we getting soaked in the storm, none of them showed any illusions of taking shelter in their homes. Although none of the buildings had any damage to them indicating enemy action, everyone knew that wouldn’t last long. I turned toward the north when I heard Hannibal order us to spread out and find observation positions. The view to the north was terrifying, and despite the number of times that I had already met with the enemy, I felt like I was seeing war for the first time.
All of the fighting wasn’t taking place directly in front of us, but the unobstructed view we enjoyed for the moment gave us a front-row seat for enough of it. We could make out the afterburners of jets flying overhead. That gave me a moment of calm until I realized that some of the planes were shooting at the others. That was a really bad sign. The North Korean Air Force had taken a serious pounding about two years before. If they were sending up some of their few remaining planes, then they were serious about this whole offensive. Missiles and tracer rounds streaked across the sky, occasionally punctuated by small explosions indicating that they had found their target. Helicopters of various styles and nationalities flew overhead in massive swarms like a biblical plague. Many of them began trailing streams of flares to decoy heat-seeking missiles, bringing a new light source to the busy night.
Then there were the flashes. We were in the middle of a thunderstorm, so I expected there to be lightning. There was plenty. The lightning danced across the sky in a show that I normally would have found beautiful and exciting. Instead, when happening as a backdrop to the aerial warfare, it was terrifying. Still, those weren’t the flashes that concerned me. The flashes on the horizon were accompanied by their own thunder. There was nothing natural about their creation and source. It was the visual indication of heavy artillery being used, and since it was in the north, that meant that it belonged to our enemy. I hadn’t faced artillery yet. It wasn’t on my immediate to-do list either.
The squad fanned out and moved half a kilometer north of the village. Movement was rapid but messy. The mud was beginning to coat our boots, pants, ponchos, and even our helmets. I was loving the night vision gear, as it gave us an almost daytime view that I knew prevented me from a large number of accidents. We took positions behind boulders and small copses of trees and watched the light show as we kept an eye out for movement.
The gunners on our helicopter had been spot-on with their fire against the first enemy advanced patrol. None of them had survived the onslaught by the miniguns. Of course, they weren’t the only advanced patrol, and it only took a few minutes before another stumbled into our position. They moved remarkably quietly. There was a talent to their steps that managed to avoid snapping twigs or even squishing in the mud. They knew their jobs well and performed them flawlessly, but they were at a distinct disadvantage. It didn’t matter how quiet they were. We were able to see them the entire time. They moved within about three hundred yards of our position and were still not aware of our presence.
I looked to my left and saw Mayumi lying prone behind a shrub with her carbine trained on the approaching patrol. She looked over toward me. Since she was wearing her goggles I couldn’t make out her expression, but I’m sure that if I could, th
ere would have been steel staring back at me. She held up three fingers, then lowered one, then another, then as she lowered the third she lined up her sights and shouted “Contact front!” as she squeezed her trigger. The entire squad followed her example and added a rain of lead to the water falling from the sky. Most of the advanced patrol was decimated within the first few seconds. A couple of them managed to take cover themselves and return fire. We could hear them speaking loudly, but none of us spoke Korean, so we assumed they were trying to inform each other of our positions. Shaggy provided cover fire as Jethro maneuvered to their right flank. Within three minutes of the initial shot, it was over.
Hannibal kept us all in defensive positions but called Mayumi over. I had to remind myself that she was, officially, the ranking officer in the squad. Although Hannibal was giving the orders, it was at least proper for him to consult with his superior. That’s why I thought he was speaking to her. What a shock; I was wrong. A minute or two later, Mayumi came over and whispered into my ear. I really enjoyed the sensation of her breath in ear. Damn it! I’m in combat! Go away hormones! “I speak Korean. I heard them reporting our position. We think they were calling in support. Prepare to fall back to the village.” She got up and ran to the next man in line. She could speak Korean? I didn’t know that.
Mayumi had just informed the last person in the squad when her suspicions were confirmed. I saw the flashes on the horizon and awaited for the distant thunder that had accompanied them up to that point. It didn’t happen. Instead, a dreadful whistling began to pierce the air. It was remarkably similar to the noise that you often heard in old movies, especially those about the World Wars. I found myself having flashbacks of watching Sergeant York with my parents. Then, about a hundred yards away, I saw the earth turn into a fountain of mud, followed by an earthquake and a sound that rivaled thunder from inside the cloud. Hello, Artillery. I hope you don’t mind if I make a snap judgment, but I really hate you. Feel free to leave ,and don’t let the door hit you on the way out. Ever notice how no one you ever tell that to leaves right away? Neither did the artillery. The second salvo was on the way, and it landed ten yards closer. “Fall back to the village!” I heard Hannibal yell. None of us needed further motivation.
Pup Page 18