Dawkins nodded, ignoring the Skipper's angry sarcasm. "I'll pass the word, sir."
Brannigan watched him walk away to inform the fire teams. He pulled out his canteen, then stuck it back in its carrier without taking so much as sip. "When you find yourself down deep in a shit hole, you got to stop digging."
The Odd Couple looked at their commanding officer, then each other. Mike yawned. "I think I'll take a nap:'
"Good idea, Assad," Brannigan said. "I'll call you in about two minutes."
"Thank you, sir," Mike said. "Being surrounded and outnumbered by a vicious enemy, thirsty as hell and as hungry as a starving bear is a great inducement to sleep."
"Y'know," Dave mused, "compared to this, Hell Week wasn't really all that bad, was it?"
Mike was already snoring quietly in his slumber.
Chapter 18
THE FOOTHILLS WEST OF WADI KHESTA VALLEY
30 AUGUST
1400 HOURS LOCAL
CAPTAIN Lakhdar Tanizai's two-company force was slightly under strength at 150 men, but he had been more than adequately augmented with the addition of three Soviet 82-millimeter mortars and plenty of shells. At that moment his mujahideen struggled through the afternoon heat on a forced march of twenty-five kilometers. They were close to exhaustion from fatigue and exposure to the sun as they hiked across the open country above and alongside the Wadi Khesta Valley. It could have been worse, but the movement was being made with minimum equipment of nothing more than personal weapons, a basic field ammunition load and canteens of water. The rest of their gear had been flown ahead by helicopter to the location where they were to set up a defensive position that would block the far end of the valley. This was their portion of the operation Warlord Khamami had devised to hem in the infidel invaders.
Tanizai walked at the head of the column, doing his best to set a good example for his fighters in the demanding situation. The officer was a firm believer in maintaining excellent physical conditioning, and he personally supervised an exercise regimen that he had designed for his men.
Now he kept up a steady, confident pace, forcing himself to endure the fatigue with no sign of discomfort. The captain finally allowed himself to relax a bit when he sighted two figures up ahead through the haze of heat that shimmered off the terrain. He increased the pace, impatient to reach the scouts Abdullah and Ashraf, who had been waiting for them.
Ashraf, always the spokesman for the duo, performed a Russian-style salute when Tanizai walked up to him. "Greetings, Captain. It is only another kilometer to where the equipment awaits you."
"Thanks to Allah!" Tanizai said in relief. He turned toward the column, shouting as loudly as he could. "Your packs and rations are just ahead. Step lively!"
The word was passed down the line, and the mujahideen happily put forth some extra effort to hurry forward to the place where they could regain possession of their gear. The company formation began to spread out as they stepped up the rate of march in their excitement. The sub-leaders immediately regained control of their men, keeping them in good order as they neared the final destination of the speed march.
When they reached the temporary supply dump, each platoon was brought to a halt, then ordered to dress right and cover down as if on parade. Under the philosophy of discipline established by Warlord Hassan Khamami, there would be no disorderly stampede to retrieve the gear. As soon as they were under tight control, one group at a time was marched in an orderly fashion to retrieve the equipment, then return to their platoon to await the next order of business.
When everyone was once again fully equipped, Captain Tanizai took personal command of the company and marched them down to the western egress of the valley. The mujahideen were ordered to ground their packs, then begin SEAM digging defensive positions that covered both the valley and the ground above. The mortars were arranged a few dozen yards to the rear to organize for short-range barrages. The crews' aiming stakes were quickly deployed to align all the tubes on the proper azimuth.
Weariness dogged Tanizai as he walked slowly along the platoon perimeters that faced the direction the infidel enemy would come from. The valley was sealed shut, and anyone approaching them would come under the combined firepower of both light and heavy infantry weapons.
.
THE WADI KHESTA VALLEY
1500 HOURS LOCAL
THE going was easy for the SEALs. The valley was wide at that point--approximately half a kilometer--and the ground was flat and firm. They had noticed the flights of helicopters that traveled from east to west, but noted there had only been two lifts flown before the aerial activity ceased. That would mean that if a mujahideen unit had been taken ahead to lay an ambush, there could not be more than fifty of the enemy positioned for an encounter.
Lieutenant Wild Bill Brannigan hoped the bastards were waiting to engage the platoon. It shouldn't be too difficult to deal with them from the valley, and the canteens the mujahideen undoubtedly had with them would be a godsend. The lack of water was a situation that grew more serious with each passing hour. The highly disciplined SEALS took only small sips from their canteens when they should have been gulping down large swallows to replace the body fluids being sweated away in the pressing heat.
Brannigan noted the men were beginning to look like candidates toward the end of Hell Week during BUD/S. The situation they now endured was the exact reason why SEAL aspirants were driven to the utmost in spiritual and physical limits during training. If the fainthearted were able to successfully complete SEAL training and win the coveted Trident badge, any weaklings among the platoon would have succumbed to the hardships days before. Even the ancient Roman legions recognized the importance of a tough, unrelenting training program, and the centurions who led the legionnaires did their best to make the training more difficult than actual combat.
Suddenly Joe Miskoski's voice came over the LASH from the rear of the column. "Choppers coming in on our six!"
Everyone immediately took cover by going into the shadows along the slopes of the valley. Within moments the noise of helicopter engines could be heard drawing closer. But instead of flying overhead, they suddenly eased back.
Chief Matt Gunnarson's hoarse voice sounded through the headsets. "The son of a bitches is hovering!" A moment later he spoke again, saying, "Hovering my Aunt Tillie's tits! They're landing!"
Everyone listened as the engines quieted down further, until they made the slow "chop-chop" sound of the rotor gears being disengaged. Within fifteen minutes they revved up again and could be heard climbing back into the sky. Then they turned away, the sound diminishing as the aircraft flew rearward out of the area.
"Two-I-C and senior chief report to me," Brannigan ordered through the LASH.
Jim Cruiser and Buford Dawkins rushed from their respective places in the column and joined Brannigan just to the rear of Alpha Fire Team. The Skipper waited as they settled down beside him. "It's obvious the chopper lift has brought an enemy unit to our direct rear," Brannigan said. "And they've already landed people to the front."
Dawkins's voice was somewhat distorted by the pebble in his mouth. "That means they know where we are."
"Yeah," Brannigan agreed.
"How the hell did they figure that out?" Cruiser asked in irritation.
"Prob'ly recon patrols, sir," Dawkins suggested. "We're so godamn tired they just snuck up on us."
"It doesn't matter," Brannigan said, irritated. "But there is also the unpleasant prospect that the enemy ahead of us marched to that location rather than use helicopters. And that means we can't accurately estimate how many they are."
"I hadn't considered that," Cruiser said.
"Even if they did put a small force ahead of us, they'll be bringing a much larger one eventually. They may be close to linking up even as we sit here. The ones behind us will want to drive us forward."
"Well," Cruiser said, "that makes it easy to figure out what to do."
"Right," Brannigan said. "We're going to attack the
small group to the rear for a breakout. And I haven't got a clue what we'll do or where we'll go once we've cleared our way to open country."
"Out of the frying pan and into the fire," the senior chief remarked, spitting out the pebble.
"Whatever," Brannigan said, shrugging. "Get your teams ready." He watched as Cruiser and Dawkins returned to their men, and he spoke over the LASH to Mike Assad and Dave Leibowitz up on point. "Get your asses back here."
"Aye, sir!" came Mike's reply.
.
THE MUJAHIDEEN
1600 HOURS LOCAL
THE former mujahideen chief Ayyub Durtami stood off to the side alone as he watched his men gather into a mob to his direct front. Durtami's former faithful assistant Ahmet Kharani was no longer a part of his entourage. Kharani had found favor with Warlord Hassan Khamami and had been made a lieutenant in the garrison guard. This was an undeniable indication to Durtami that he was now an outcast. His best hope was to martyr himself in battle and seek redemption and reward in Allah's Paradise. There would be nothing for him in Khamami's fiefdom unless a miracle occurred.
Durtami's men each had a single canteen on a strap around the shoulder, and this small amount of water gave evidence that their chances in the coming battle were considered minimal at best. The Lee-Metford Mark II rifles they carried were in sorry condition. All were dirty, and at least a dozen of them could not be loaded because the bolts were rusted shut. The magazines were designed to hold ten rounds in a double column, but the men had been issued only three. However, those who could not load their rifles gave their three to close friends, so a few had six to fire at the infidels.
Durtami whistled and clapped his hands for attention. When the crowd of sacrificial fighters quieted down, he spoke to them in as firm a voice as he could muster. Even a true believer was nervous when facing certain death.
"Listen, brothers! At this moment Allah looks down on you with great love and appreciation. He is aware that you are ready to martyr yourselves for Islam without hesitation. He also knows which ones of you will sacrifice your mortal lives for His immortal glory. Already there are places in Paradise set aside for you. Your families will weep with great joy, knowing you have honored them and all true believers!" He paused, looking at the fierce pride shining in their eyes. "Are you ready?"
"Allah! Allah akbar! God is great!"
The cries and chanting rose in volume as the mujahideen encouraged one another for the ordeal ahead. Durtami did his best to take heart from their morbid celebration. He knew that his karma offered only two possibilities after the battle. He would either come out of it alive to return to the unlikely good graces of his brother-in-law Warlord Khamami or he would find his reward in Paradise. Either way required that he put himself in the front of his men and lead by example.
"Brothers!" he cried, pointing toward the enemy. "That is the direction to everlasting glory! Follow me!"
He held his prized pearl-handled Beretta 9-millimeter automatic pistol in his hand, raising it high above his head. Then he turned to trot toward the objective at a steady pace, raising his knees high to emphasize his fervor and passion. Durtami did not look back as his men cheered and fell into a disorganized crowd to his direct rear.
.
THE SEALS
1815 HOURS LOCAL
BRAVO Fire Team, with Senior Chief Petty Officer Buford Dawkins in charge, moved slowly down the valley, leading Brannigan's Brigands. The team, like the rest of the platoon, felt like they were simply spinning their wheels, since the outfit was now moving back in the direction from where they had come. The men held their weapons ready, their eyes scanning the tops of the valley as well as the area to the direct front.
For once Mike Assad and Dave Leibowitz were not on the point. Lieutenant Brannigan had kept them back with him and Frank Gomez as part of Alpha Fire Team. Charlie Fire Team was directly to their rear, led by Lieutenant (J. G.) Jim Cruiser. Chief Matt Gunnarson's Delta Fire Team brought up the rear with Bruno Puglisi being the tail-end Charlie.
Suddenly the sound of shouting men could be heard. Brannigan quickly ordered a halt via his LASH headset so they could determine who was raising so much hell. The disturbance grew steadily louder until it was accompanied by the pounding of running feet. A moment later a mob of mujahideen appeared around a bend some one hundred meters away.
The senior chief, Connie Concord and Chad Murchison immediately opened fire. Four men in the front of the crowd toppled to the ground, but dozens more now came into view. The Bravos fell back to join the four Alphas. Now a total of seven weapons poured 5.56-millimeter rounds into the attackers. But they continued advancing, leaping over their fallen comrades as if they sought death more than victory.
The Alphas and Bravos retreated back to join the seven men of the Second Squad. The mujahideen fired hardly at all, and those shots were aimed straight up into the air. The SEALs didn't bother to take cover as they continued sending salvos to rake the front ranks of the enemy. There was no choice but to back up, even though they were inflicting heavy casualties. Any hesitation or slowness would mean the SEALs would be physically overwhelmed by the suicidal maniacs stampeding toward them.
Brannigan wanted to break contact to get enough time to organize some sort of defense, but the assault suddenly halted. It was Chad Murchison who first noted what had brought the short, sharp battle to a halt.
"There are no more of them," he said into the LASH. "We've killed every single one."
Now everyone moved forward and could see that all the attackers were down. Connie Concord walked forward and picked up a rifle from one of the dead mujahideen. He examined it carefully. "This thing is a fucking antique," he announced as the others gathered around. "And it's as rusted as a garbage scow's keel:'
Milly Mills was confused. "What the hell was this all about?"
Brannigan noticed they were all shoving fresh magazines into their weapons. "These poor dumb bastards were sent to draw fire. That means the force ahead of us is probably stronger than we thought."
"Right," Dawkins said. "And it also means that another group of these ragheads is coming behind these crazy sons of bitches. And they'll be one of their better fighting outfits."
James Bradley happily pointed to the corpses. "They have canteens!"
"One man from each fire team get over there and gather up as many as you can," Brannigan shouted. "Make it snappy. We've got to get ready for some more visitors."
Dave Leibowitz, Chad Murchison, Joe Miskoski and Bruno Puglisi rushed out to collect the water containers. As Joe went from corpse to corpse, he came across a particularly bloody one. The man, his dead face locked into a fierce scowl with the mouth opened in a silent scream of fury, appeared to have been hit at least a half dozen times. A pearl-handled Beretta automatic was still grasped in his hand.
Joe grinned. The pistol would make a nice souvenir.
.
THE MUJAHIDEEN
1630 HOURS LOCAL
THE two Mi-24 helicopters came in and landed. Major Karim Malari and his radio operator jumped from the first, then turned to watch other mujahideen quickly disembark. The choppers immediately took off to pick up more fighters.
Malari took the handset from the radio and raised Warlord Khamami back at his CP. "Amir, Durtami and his men have made their attack. It did not take long, but from the sound of firing, the infidels expended many bullets to stop them."
"Very well," Khamami came back. The tone of his voice revealed his exultation. "Order Tanizai to move forward. Make sure he has troops up on the high ground as well as in the valley. The enemy will be forced to flee across open country by morning."
"I have already issued the order:' Malari said. "The helicopters continue to bring us more troops. Within an hour there will be more than four hundred men in our two units. The unbelievers will be caught between us. Even now they are unable to break out." He handed the handset back to the RTO, and looked over at his sub-commanders. "Get your men formed up! As soon as the next
lift arrives, we shall be ready to move out and destroy the Infidels once and forever."
.
THE SEALS
31 AUGUST
0100 HOURS LOCAL
THE problem of thirst was solved at least temporarily. That was the good news. The bad news was that by the time a shortage of water became a problem again, there was a strong chance that none of the platoon would be alive to be aware of it. Brannigan had pulled the Brigands back to an area where the slopes on both sides of the valley were not so steep. First Squad took one side while Second Squad took the other. They had situated themselves as best they could without digging fighting positions, using the brush and top of the valley for cover. When everyone had settled down, the Skipper sent Mike Assad and Dave Leibowitz out to do a reconnaissance.
.
0230 HOURS LOCAL
THE Odd Couple eased themselves off the high ground onto the slope of the valley. They moved slowly down the firm terrain, making a slow descent. Although they were no longer thirsty, each was nearing the end of his physical endurance. They walked through the OP manned by Senior Chief Buford Dawkins and Chad Murchison. Dawkins stood up as they approached. He spat, reaching for the liberated canteen to treat himself to a drink. "Y'all bringing good news?"
"Not hardly, Senior Chief," Dave Leibowitz replied as he and Mike walked past. "To put it politely: we're in deep yogurt."
Dawkins watched them walk way, and took a swallow of the water. It was tepid, but delicious after the long dry days. The only thing that could improve it would be some Jack Daniel's for flavoring.
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