Strike Force Red

by C T Glatte

  Jimmy crouched and the others spread out and stared. “We’re going up and over.” He whispered to Hank. “Pass it back.”

  Hank looked at him funny. “Why you whispering?”

  Jimmy shrugged, “I’ve got a funny feeling about this. I think there might actually be an ambush. Tell the men to keep quiet.” Hank nodded and passed it back.

  Jimmy didn’t wait for the message to make it through. He stepped uphill with his weapon ready. The slope wasn’t steep, but it was choked with thick brush. He pushed his way through the brambles as quietly as he could. Being out here reminded him of elk hunting with his father. The Oregon coast was known for producing some of the biggest trophy elk in the country, but the thick forest and constant changes in terrain, made it hard work.

  As Jimmy climbed he could hear the others following. They tried to keep quiet but it sounded like fifty men scrambling up a slippery slope. He thought they could probably be heard back at camp. There was nothing to do but keep moving upward. He crested a rise he thought sure was the top, but wasn’t. He waited for the rest of them to catch up and when he saw the tail end Charlie, Sergeant Higgins, he whispered to Hank. “Thought this was the top, dammit.” Hank just shrugged and wiped sweat from his dark, thick eyebrows.

  Sergeant Campbell bellowed, “What’s with all the secrecy, Corporal? You and Gugliani whispering sweet nothings to each other? Need a moment alone?” He gestured to the surrounding forest, “Plenty of trees you two love birds could get some privacy behind.”

  Jimmy blushed red and shook his head, “No, Drill Sergeant. Just trying not to tip off the ambushers.”

  Sergeant Campbell scowled, “We’re not in the combat zone, Crandall.”

  Jimmy nodded, “Just trying for some authenticity, Drill Sergeant.”

  “Well hurry the hell up, Corporal.”

  “Yes, Drill Sergeant.” He waved the men forward. Another hundred yards. They crested the hill and found themselves in a recently logged area. The top of the ridge was bare of trees, but the brush was making a quick comeback. A deep rutted dirt road cut through the clear-cut. The fog had wetted the black soil, but it was mostly hard-packed.

  The men were relieved not to be climbing anymore. Sergeant Campbell barked, “Take ten. Get some water.”

  The men slipped their heavy packs off and slumped to the ground. Jimmy rubbed his shoulders where the pack cut into them. He’d formed callouses from the biting straps long ago, but the uphill lean of his body as he climbed, put a new strain on his shoulders and back. He took a long pull off his canteen and swished the water getting a feel for how much he had left.

  Hank slapped his shoulder. “You’re doing a good job.”

  “Yeah? How do you know?”

  “Cause the drill sergeants aren’t busting your balls like normal.”

  Jimmy shrugged, “Yeah, I guess.” He leaned in, “Can’t shake the feeling that they’re up to something.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like I wonder if one of the other company’s out here waiting to ambush us.”

  Hank screwed the lid back on his canteen. “That’d be just like ‘em.” He tilted his chin to where the two sergeants were conferring in quiet tones. “Probably discussing our demise right now.”

  Jimmy nodded. “If it’s gonna happen, it’ll probably be along this logging road. Let’s tell the others to keep sharp.”

  “Good idea.”

  The ten minutes passed far too fast. The stop wasn’t quite long enough to rest, but long enough to make it hard to get back up again. Jimmy struggled to his feet and helped Hank up. He could feel his muscles cooling and tightening up. He lifted his pack and felt his back protest when he heaved it over his shoulders and onto his back. He looked to Sergeant Campbell and Higgins, still together, still discussing something no one else could hear.

  Jimmy nudged Hank. “Look at those two. Up to no good for sure.”

  Hank nodded and leaned close, “I agree, looks like they’re planning our deaths. They’ll probably try to lead us right into ‘em.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of. I’ve got an idea though. I’m gonna go out on point.”

  “Point?”

  “Yeah, point. Like we practiced when we’re patrolling.”

  Hank grinned, “Yeah but we're on a mach not a patrol.”

  “Well, no shit.” He shook his head. “It’ll work, just watch and play along.” He adjusted the straps on his back and strode up to the two snickering sergeants. “Excuse me Drill Sergeants.”

  Campbell turned and stopped talking to Higgins. “What is it, Corporal? You men ready to move out?”

  “Yes Drill Sergeant, but I was hoping to get some practice running point. You know like we do when we patrol.”

  Campbell scowled and shook his head. “Nah, this isn’t a patrol. Now form up and … “

  Jimmy turned toward Hank and called, “Sorry Private Gugliani, you can’t practice running point today.”

  Campbell looked past Jimmy to Hank who stared back then looked at the ground in disappointment. “Damn,” he uttered loud enough to hear.

  Sergeant Campbell strode toward Hank and asked, “You wanna go out on point?”

  Hank looked him in the eye and grinned. “I was hoping to get some practice.”

  Jimmy chimed in. “Hey maybe you could teach the private like you taught him all that extra hand-to-hand stuff.”

  Sergeant Campbell looked over at Sergeant Higgins who wasn’t paying any attention to him. “I guess it couldn’t hurt. You’re a natural with the knife, we’ll see how you move on patrol.” He slapped Hank’s back and asked, “You do much hunting? Like deer hunting?” Hank nodded, “Of course you have. It’s a lot like that. We’ll see how you do. Follow my lead.”

  Jimmy spoke up before he got more than a few paces. “Hey Private Gugliani, you forgot this.” He held his hand up then quickly pulled it down.

  Hank hustled over, “Be right back Drill Sergeant Campbell.” He pretended to take something from Jimmy and shove it into his pocket. He whispered, “What’s the big idea? Why’d you make me take point with him? He’s like an overgrown ten year old.”

  “He’s really taken to you. Your hand-to-hand skills impressed the hell out of him. He looks at you like you’re his prized possession.”

  “The way he looks at me, frankly creeps me out.”

  Jimmy grinned, “You can ask him out after he’s given up the position of the ambush.” Hank nearly exploded, but Jimmy stopped him. “Listen. He’ll stop talking. He’ll start looking around more, looking for signs of the ambushers. That’s when you pretend to tie your shoe, or fall or something. Do something I’ll be sure to notice.”

  Hank nodded but pointed his index finger at Jimmy’s nose. “You watch your mouth about that dating bullshit.”

  Jimmy gave him his best innocent smile. “I’m sure you’ll be very happy together.”

  “Dammit I … “

  Jimmy shoved him forward, “Shut up and get on with it before you blow the whole thing.” Hank glared at him and Jimmy smiled and added, “No pun intended.”

  Jimmy shook his head and joined Sergeant Campbell who was explaining to Sergeant Higgins what he was going to do. Higgins didn’t look convinced, but went along with the more senior man’s judgment.

  The road wound through the clear cut, taking sweeping one-hundred-eighty degree switchback turns. The ruts were deep where logging trucks had labored up and down with loads of fresh cut lumber. Judging by the tracks and the new growth, Jimmy figured it’d been logged at least six months ago.

  The men were two abreast with their weapons slung over their shoulders. Sergeant Higgins walked behind them, making sure no one got left behind. Jimmy could see Sergeant Campbell and Private Gugliani fifty yards ahead. The sergeant would stop occasionally and point something out, or show his prized student some feature of the forest, then move on. Hank acted interested; the adoring student.

  Despite being on a road, the walking wasn’t easy. Th
e deep uneven ruts made each step precarious. Jimmy kept his eyes moving from Hank to his next step and back again. They moved steadily downward and Jimmy thought perhaps he was being paranoid. He’d told the men his plan and they’d been excited about the prospect of some excitement, but with each step their senses were dulling into complacency.

  Up ahead he saw the end of the clear-cut section and the start of more raw forest. At the edge of it, Hank suddenly stopped and kneeled down. He was messing with his boot and looking behind him at the advancing column. Jimmy noticed immediately and nodded, but doubted Hank could see his motion. Jimmy looked at the terrain. The right side of the road had thick trees over a relatively flat section, the left side had a house-sized boulder bordering it. Jimmy decided the right side wooded section was where the ambushers must be hiding. He supposed they’d wait until his men were flanked by the rock before opening up. There’d be no place to hide.

  Jimmy held up his hand and yelled, “Drill Sergeant, I’d like to take a water-break.”

  Sergeant Campbell heard him from his forward position, but Jimmy was looking back toward Sergeant Higgins. The column of men stopped and started taking their canteens from their belts before Higgins could say a word about it. He moved past the column and stood next to Corporal Crandall. “Dammit, Corporal. Now? Here?”

  Jimmy shrugged and took a long pull from his canteen, then slipped his pack off his shoulders and guided it to the ground. “I’ve gotta take a shit.” He started prancing from foot to foot, “Like, right now.” More men unburdened themselves and started grabbing their guts and butts in mock agony. “Must’ve been that damned creek water we drank.”

  Twenty soldiers hustled from the main group while Sergeant Higgins watched with his mouth gaped open. He didn’t notice, each man was still carrying his M1.

  Jimmy sprinted the rest of the way through the clear-cut then entered the woods far off to the right of the road. Once in the forest’s shroud he stopped and waited for the rest of the men to join him. He could hear Sergeant Higgins bellowing at him to return, but he was far enough away to fake not hearing. He whispered to the men circled around him panting. They had wild looks in their eyes. It had been a long day and they relished kicking some ass. “Form a skirmish line into the woods. I want five to ten feet between us. Wish we had blanks in these, but since we don’t, keep it quiet. When we come up on ‘em scream like banshees. Scare the shit out of these shit-bags.” They nodded with excitement. “Let’s go.”

  He watched them spread out into the trees. The signal was sent, ‘all set.’ He advanced and he could see the line of men stealthily moving forward. He’d chosen the men most adept in the woods. The others would keep a ruckus going, drawing the ambusher’s attention.

  They’d moved sixty yards when Jimmy saw the outline of an olive green clad soldier lying flat with his M1 pointed toward the road. They were facing away along a well dug trench-line. Jimmy could smell the fresh soil and he wondered how long the ambushers had been in place. They must be antsy for some action too. He slowed his pace and looked down the line. The soldier beside him, Private Jantz licked his lips in anticipation. Everyone he could see was crouched and ready.

  He stood to his full height and yelled, “Charge!” He sprang forward and watched the prone soldier panic and look in every direction. He finally saw Jimmy bearing down with his rifle and Jimmy saw him turn onto his back. His face was sheer panic. He tried to bring his rifle to bear but Jimmy was on him and yelled. “Surrender!”

  The stunned soldier put his quivering hands up and uttered, “D - Don’t shoot.”

  Sergeant Campbel and Higgins stormed into the woods and an irate Lieutenant was suddenly storming toward them from the right flank, sputtering in rage. “What’s the meaning of this. This is outrageous.” When he saw the two Sergeants he pointed at them. “What the hell, Sergeant Campbell?”

  Jimmy and the rest of his men braced and stood at attention. Sergeant Campbell strode up to Jimmy and looked up and down the line at the soldiers on the ground with their hands up. He glanced back at Hank who was grinning ear to ear then to Jimmy who could barely contain his glee. Campbell knew he’d been played. He addressed the lieutenant who stood with his fists on his hips. “These men took the initiative and destroyed an attempted ambush, Lieutenant Little.”

  Lieutenant Little shook his head. “That wasn’t the way it was supposed to go, Sergeant. These men were supposed to walk into the ambush and give my men practice.”

  Sergeant Campbell nodded. “Yes sir.” He shrugged. “I guess unexpected things can happen in combat situations … sir.” The Lieutenant looked like he was about to burst. “‘The best laid plans’, and all that, sir.”

  “My men were made fools of. This is outrageous.”

  Sergeant Campbell addressed Jimmy’s squad. “Get back to the road and complete the march, Corporal. We’ll catch up.”

  Jimmy nodded, “Yes Drill Sergeant.” He addressed the men. “Let’s go. You heard the sergeant.” They stepped over the trench-line and through the glaring soldiers. Jimmy could hear his men calling em’ pansies and dead men walking. They all had a distinct spring in their steps.

  Five

  Graduation from boot camp was anti-climactic. The need to get soldiers to the frontline was paramount. The reports from Alaska weren’t good. The Russians had pushed further inland. Thankfully, the Canadians had entered the fight. When their entreaties for peace were ignored and their ambassadors were fired upon, they had no other choice. It was obvious the Russians, backed by the scalps had their sights on the entire continent, not just the United States. The influx of the Canadians stemmed the steady forward progress of the enemy, but more troops were needed.

  Jimmy understood why his parents weren’t there for his graduation. It was a long trip and with the severe rationing, too expensive.

  After the brief ceremony, he’d gotten a letter from his mother. The words were scrawled and barely legible, as if she’d been upset while writing it. He thought he could discern blotches of dried tears.

  His father had been called up by the Navy. He’d done an accelerated boot camp along with other old-timers and been given a managerial position somewhere on the west coast.

  Jimmy’s mother lamented that she’d had no other choice but to enter the thriving work-force. It was a lot for Jimmy to take in. When he’d left, everything was relatively normal, now his father was in the service and his mother was working in a factory. Jimmy couldn’t decide which was more bizarre. He couldn’t imagine either of his parents in either role. He grinned thinking about his father being yelled at by a petty officer who’d probably never graduated high school, let alone college.

  He didn’t have much time to think about the fortunes of his family though. His division was sent north by train. They’d been given Winter clothing even though it was early Fall. The bulky clothes barely fit in his overstuffed duffel bag. Jimmy, now a private again, propped his feet on the bag sticking out from beneath his seat. “Why’d they give us all this gear? It’s Summer?”

  Hank was sitting next to the window reading a Life Magazine with the image of an alien on the cover. The headline read: Friend or Foe? Without taking his eyes from the magazine he uttered, “Ever been to Alaska?” Jimmy shook his head. “Well, it’s cold. Even in Summer. Hell, they get snow in July sometimes.” He turned the page of the magazine. “And besides, it’s not Summer, it’s Fall. It’ll be Winter soon. You’ll be glad as hell for all that stuff when Winter hits, believe me.”

  “You been to Alaska?”

  Hank put the magazine down and looked at his friend and shook his head. “No, but my cousin Tony went up there to work in a cannery. He was in Nome, the same place the commies landed. He said it was the coldest summer he’d ever spent.”

  Jimmy watched the world pass by the window. They stopped a number of times to pick up more troops and by the time they got to Seattle, the train-cars were jam packed with soldiers. They continued north toward Bellingham, Washington. It was t
he final stop and they disembarked and formed in companies.

  The trip was exhausting. There were too many men and not enough beds, so they were forced to sleep upright in their chairs or in the aisles or curled into the spaces between. If sleep came, it was short and stunted with constant interruptions. By the time they got to Bellingham, most of the men already felt like they’d been in combat.

  Despite the urgency of the war, the troops were shuttled to a large tent city outside of town, which the locals had helped erect. There were rows upon rows of cots. Jimmy’s Charlie Company occupied one such tent.

  Before racking out they entered a huge chow hall full of savory smells of stew and fresh bread. The equipment was the Army’s but the people manning the kitchen were locals mixed in with troopers. Jimmy didn’t remember ever having a better meal. Fully satiated, the men retired to their bunks and weren’t disturbed for the next twelve hours.

  They woke to the sound of revelry. Jimmy was groggy, but the familiar wakeup brought him instantly to his feet. The entire tent went from slumbering soldiers to suddenly awake and alive. There was plenty of pissing and moaning, but each soldier felt better and readied himself for the next phase of the journey.

  Hank yawned as he pulled his pants on. “You get seasick?”

  Jimmy shook his head, “Nah. You?”

  Hank nodded. “Yeah, pretty bad. This boat ride’s gonna suck.”

  Jimmy smiled, “It’s the inside passage, so we won’t be in open sea much. Maybe the boat won’t be moving up and down as much. It’ll be like we’re on a river.”

  Hank shook his head. “I’ve gotten sick on a canoe trip. Water and I just don’t get along.”

  Jimmy sat down to tie his boot laces. “Well, stay away from me. I don’t like the smell of vomit.”

  They dressed and readied their gear for departure then made their way amongst the hundreds of other soldiers to the main chow hall. It was crowded but the servers were quick, slopping heaping portions of eggs, hash browns and slices of buttered toast onto their overflowing trays.