Tomcat tsf-3

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Tomcat tsf-3 Page 31

by David E. Meadows


  “Lieutenant, good idea to leave your radio keyed. If you hadn’t we never would have located you as fast as we did. I can’t tell you how the sounds of your fighting echoing over the airwaves affected every one of us.”

  “Keyed?” Nolan asked, glancing toward the open door of the lead humvee where he could see the microphone wedged against the seat belt mechanism.

  “Yes, sir, keyed. I don’t think I would have thought of that in the heat of battle.” Colonel Cooper said.

  “Yes, sir. We try to think of everything in the Marines,” Lieutenant Nolan replied straight-faced.

  The colonel grinned. “I’m sure you do, son. And from what I’ve seen here, young man. you have had one hell of a battle.” He sighed. “But, we don’t want to stay here any longer than we have to. You need to have those wounds seen to ASAP, Lieutenant Nolan.”

  As if on cue, the eight Apache helicopters returned.

  Two went to the west end of the wadi and hovered about ten feet off the ground, while two took position near the entrance. The others disappeared. Stapler figured they were conducting patrols around the area so they wouldn’t be surprised.

  Colonel Cooper walked toward where Stapler lay.

  “Colonel, this is Gunnery Sergeant Stapler. Without him, I don’t think any of us would have made it this far.”

  The colonel squatted beside Stapler and the medic.

  “Got yourself a little wound. Gunny.”

  “Only way the LT would let me lie down and rest, sir,” Colonel Cooper patted Stapler on the leg. “We’ll have you out of here and back at the base within the next three hours. You just hold on until then, Gunny.” He looked at the medic.

  “Colonel, whoever did his dressing did a good job.

  There’s nothing else I can do until we get him back to Butler. The bleeding has stopped.” A shout from behind the boulders for the medic caused the soldier to excuse himself. Stapler knew it was Cowboy drawing the medical attention.

  “Save him,” Stapler said to the medic before the soldier hurried off. He hoped they weren’t too late. Cowboy was a fine Marine.

  The colonel started to get up, but Stapler put his hand on the man’s arm. “Colonel, curiosity is going to kill me before this wound. Tell me how in the hell you flew Chinooks and Apaches this far. I thought we had to go another hundred or so miles to be in range.”

  Colonel Cooper stood up. “You did, and you do. When we arrived two days ago and got an update on your predicament, we knew we had to extend our range. We had to find some way to get to you sooner. Waiting for you to come to us was unsatisfactory. You’ve heard of FAARP — forward area arming refueling point?”

  Stapler hadn’t, but he nodded as if he had.

  Cooper continued, “The Marines have used this tactic for extending the range of your Cobras. We forward staged fuel and water in a leapfrog method. We flew Chinooks with fuel bladders and extra water as far as we could and left the supplies in the middle of the desert. I mean, who in the hell is going to steal something in the middle of the desert? The next day, we flew to those supplies, refueled, and flew another leg, where we off loaded more fuel bladders and supplies. While that second bunch of helicopters was doing the second leg, another bunch restocked the first logistic stop. See? We are just leapfrogging from one makeshift fuel dump to the next.

  While we are here, other forces are restocking the two stops we have to make on the way back. At the second stop, we are going to be met by a full medical team. The one doctor I brought is back there with your young Marine.”

  A Ranger ran up to the colonel and whispered something in his ear. The colonel nodded and turned to face Lieutenant Nolan and Stapler. “Sorry, gentlemen, but one of your Marines is dead as well as two of the civilians.

  We’ll take their bodies with us when we go.”

  “Yes, sir, we know. Private Garfield was killed in the first attack. The same one when the gunnery sergeant got wounded.”

  Stapler removed his hand from the colonel’s arm.

  “Leapfrogged all the way here, Colonel. I’m impressed and thankful that you did.”

  Around them, Rangers helped the Marines and the civilians toward the four empty Chinook helicopters.

  Two Rangers appeared with a stretcher behind the colonel.

  “We have to go, Lieutenant, Gunny. Fuel constraints, you know. In the event I don’t have an opportunity to see you two together again when we get back, I want you to know you have my utmost respect.” He waved his right hand, encompassing the wadi. “You fought a battle here against overwhelming odds, and like thousands of Marine Corps. in history, you prevailed. I would like to shake your hands now because I think in the near future, it will be very hard to get close enough to you to do so later.” He shook Nolan’s first and then bent down to shake Stapler’s as the two Rangers hoisted the wounded gunnery sergeant onto the stretcher.

  “Overwhelming odds, Lieutenant,” Colonel Cooper continued as he walked with Nolan and alongside the stretcher with Stapler. “I want to hear all about this adventure on our trip back, if you could find the time to debrief me.”

  Sheila Anne Forester walked up to the gunny. “You get carried, while I have to walk?” she asked, grinning, and then she leaned down and kissed Stapler on the cheek.

  “Thanks. Gunny. For an old bastard, you aren’t so bad.”

  Stapler laid back and let his eyes close. Things must really be bad if Miss. Sheila Anne Forester was kissing him. Nice tits, though. The pain was still there, but the second morphine shot the medic gave him worked quickly as the adrenaline faded from his system. Maybe he should have mentioned the earlier shot Sterling gave him. The bouncing of the stretcher soothed him in his drugged state more than aggravating the wound. By the time the two men walked up the ramp of the turning CH47 with Stapler, the gunnery sergeant was asleep and smiling. It was a scary sight.

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