Title: Combat

Date: 23-01-2010
Number: 10

“Sarge, we’re taking fire from a building in the east.” Lance Corporal Jones said as
he kneeled down behind the Humvee next to Sergeant Peters. To emphasize the
message, bullets pinged above their head as they ricochet off the armor plated
sides of the vehicle. Peters turned his head to face the NCO, gritting his teeth when
an explosion went off close-by and he was covered in a cloud of dust. “Alright, get
Lemon to suppress it. We just need to hold them off until second squad can make
its way around.” He ordered, looking behind Jones to their right flank.

Peters could see two of his men crouching behind a low wall, occasionally popping
up to fire a few rounds before crouching back down. They were holding their side,
but the pair was taking heavy fire, small puffs of dust around them as bullets hit the
ground and the wall. The Sergeant turned his head the other side, looking to his left.
Private Juarez who manned the .50 cal machinegun on the second Humvee was
peppering the enemy position across the road, the clay house riddled with large
holes and obscured from sight by thick clouds of dust.

Taking cover behind that vehicle he saw the rest of Fire Team Bravo, two men
crouching while they scanned the area for any hostile movement. They had been
well disciplined and didn’t seem intimidated by the explosions or gunfire that was
going on all around them. Finally, Peters looked behind his position to the third
Humvee. The three vehicles had been parked in a wide triangle, providing a
rudimentary stronghold as they fended off the insurgents that had sprung their
ambush five minutes before.

The village had already been classified as a high risk environment and Division had
decided it would attempt to take control over it away from the insurgents. Peters
and his first squad had been ordered to enter the town together with third squad,
while second squad would hang back as reserve and respond if there was trouble.
Only a few minutes after Jones’ squad had driven up the main road into the village,
the trap had been sprung which resulted in their current situation.

Third squad had a similar problem, pinned down on the other side of the village and
unable to assist. It seemed the entire village was out to kill the marines that had
entered it. The simple looking, clay brown shacks were built close together
providing the attackers with a series of alleys and abandoned houses to dodge in to
and out of, harassing the marines in the open ground with fire from all directions.
The Sergeant looked at Corporal Madison who was crouching behind the third
Humvee, directing him with hand signals to have his gunner shift fire to the building
in the east.

Madison nodded and leaned into his vehicle, tapping Lemon on his leg. The gunner
looked down and took his finger off the trigger, listening as the Corporal gave him
the new order. Peters was too far away and the sounds of the fire fight too loud for
him to hear what they were saying, but Lemon nodded and swung his turret 45
degrees to the side, spraying a new hail of bullets into yet another simple looking
building. Immediately the intensity of the fire from that side decreased as the
attackers hiding in it dove for cover.

Jones had run back to the wall on their right flank, crouching next to the two already
there and joining them in the fire fight. Peters was left alone now, except for his
Humvee’s gunner who was still firing at enemies the Sergeant couldn’t see. The rest
of the first fire team had managed to get into the nearest alley way and were trying
to circle around and see if they could flank any insurgents. Jones had to hold his
ground now with eight other marines.

His radio crackled to life in his ear and he heard the familiar voice of second squad’s
Sergeant Albright. “First squad this is second squad. We have moved around the
blockade and are inbound, one minute. Watch your fire to the south of your
position.” Peters pressed the transmitter of his radio and replied. “Roger that
second squad. Watch for enemy fire from your nine o’clock when you approach our
position; they’re fortified pretty well.” He waited for the confirmation then put his
hand back on his rifle. He hadn’t fired it yet this fight, his field of fire too crowded
with other marines to safely shoot at any targets.

He reached for his radio switch again, hanging by a cord to his earplug. “Fire team
Charlie, Peters here. Watch your fire; we have incoming friendlies from the south
road.” “Roger that Sarge.” Corporal Madison replied, sticking up his thumb at him
from across the small circle they had formed behind their Humvees. Peters turned
around, walking crouched to the front of his vehicle and carefully sticking his head
around the side. His gunner had stopped firing, scanning the area for any
movement but almost the entire building opposite them had been obscured by dust
clouds.

Suddenly Peters’ eye caught something, a shadow moving through the cloud
quickly. He raised his rifle and looked through the sights, aiming it at the form.
Aware it could be someone from the first fire team he didn’t fire but instead
followed it with his weapon. A sudden strong gust of wind flared up through the
street, pushing away the cloud of dust for a moment. The shape became a person,
Peters immediately recognizing the ragged clothes as those of an insurgent.

The AK47 in his hands was aimed at the Marines, firing blindly as the man ran.
Missing him wildly, Peters took a moment to aim before pressing his finger on the
trigger and feeling the familiar kick against his shoulder when the rifle recoiled. He
pressed it a few times, firing single shots at the running man until he suddenly
dropped. Peters was confident he hit him, but kept an eye on the spot where his
target had dropped out of sight.
“Sarge, second squad is here.” Madison’s voice sounded in his ear. “They’re taking
up position on our west flank and clearing that block of houses.” Peters confirmed
that he had received the message, then looked over to where the three new
Humvees were coming to a halt. The desert camouflaged soldiers jumped out and
quickly disappeared out of sight behind the vehicles, the .50 cal gunners joining the
cacophony of weapons fire as they started unloading into nearby buildings and
alleys.

Peters clicked his transmitter button, switching channel to that between squads.
“Second squad, be aware. My first fire team is trying to flank the enemy position
from the north. Watch your fire.” He said, looking at some of the newly arrived
soldiers running into an alley. “We copy first squad.” Albright replied briefly. The
radio crackled a bit, then beeped and was quiet again.

Meanwhile, the shooting had almost ceased. From the east there was still an
occasional shot being fired, either by his men or the enemy, but it seemed they had
fended off the attack. With the sun setting behind the mountains in the distance
and twilight setting in, Peters contacted his three team leaders, asking for a status
report. Fire team Alpha, still carefully clearing out one building at a time reported
they hadn’t encountered anyone yet. Fire team Bravo which was guarding the east
flank were holding position, but were running low on ammunition while Fire team
Charlie which was holding the south end of the field reported seeing some men
fleeing into the fields surrounding the village.

Peters acknowledged the three reports, then sighed and adjusted his helmet.
“Alright then.”