Chapter 1:
Operation Sandstorm
My son threw me the football. It felt good to finally spend time with him; it had been four years since I last saw him. My tour in the Marines lasted longer than expected. I had seen everything; I had been to all the bad places. There are some things that cannot be unseen. The things I’ve done in the name of survival will haunt me forever…
Two years ago I had been patrolling the Afghani border with my squad by helicopter:
"I’m just saying, why the hell do we have to wear our combat gear while on patrol, I’m way too hot in here. We never see any combat anyways.” Said Johnson, we had been great friends since the first day I arrived here. He has saved my life on many occasions.
“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth Johnson, it’s better to be flying up here, above all of the violence, instead of being down there, in the hell hole.” I replied
The weather was incredibly hot, the ground seemed warped by the heat waves as we flew by. It was terrible being up this high in the heat, but I’ve gotta admit, it’s much better being up here than it is down there. I had spent 3 years as a foot soldiers, when you're on the ground, you always have to be on the edge. Danger can come from every direction, an IED could be planted in the corpse of a cow lying by the side of the road, or a group of children might be packing heat. Constant danger.
The helicopter's blades tore through the desert air as we approached the Halfway point on our patrol route. Johnson and I sat at opposite sides of the helicopter, he was on the left side turret, and I was on the right. I have been on hundreds of patrols, the most excitement we ever get is when some trigger happy kid shoots the bottom of the chopper with his AK. So it was odd when I noticed a huge group of people running down the street to the left of me.
“Hey!” I yelled to the pilot, “Down there! Look!”
The pilot swivelled the helicopter to give me a perfect view of what was going on. I wish he hadn’t. Families, children, were trying to escape from a group of rebels gunning down everyone in sight. I saw in perfect clarity as mothers, holding their children, were shot down as they ran away. Some kids turned around, they tried throwing rocks at the rebels. This proved futile as they were pecked with bullet holes the second the rebels got a clear shot.
"Fuck this" I thought as I unloaded the turret on the rebels position, one by one they fell in a hail of bullets. The road down bellow was filled with bullet holes, the walls were painted red. I let go of the trigger as the last rebel hit the ground.
“THE FUCK WAS THAT ROBERT! YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO SHOOT THEM!! YOU DIDN’T HAVE CLEARANCE!”
In the frustration and adrenaline of the moment, I hadn’t even noticed that Johnson was trying to pull me off of the gun. I sagged down in my seat. What have I done… I sat there, for a few seconds, thinking about what I had just done. My concentration was broken when bullets bounced off of the belly of the chopper. I thought nothing of it until someone yelled:
“HOLY SHIT! RPG!”
The blast was centered on the cockpit. I watched as both of the pilots were killed by debris flying at them from the collapsing front end of the chopper. The helicopter spun out of control. I blacked out…
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My vision flitted back to me. I tried moving my right leg, but the unbearable pain that followed told me that my leg was broken… or worse… My vision returned fully now, I could see in front of me. Directly in front of my face, was the solid floor of the helicopter, It had landed on it’s side. I pulled myself up, making sure not to use my injured right leg. I looked down, at my feet were the bodies the four other people that were in the helicopter with me, but Johnson was missing. How long was I out?
I emerged from a hole in the roof, and then, I saw him.
Johnson was trapped underneath of the chopper, everything under his waist was pinned underneath of the chopper. As I stepped out, he turned his head just enough to look me in the eye. His voice sounded like a coarse whisper:
“Help me… I can barely breath, this fucking hurts.”
I crouched down, and tried with all of my might, to lift the helicopter off of his body. But it was hopeless, no man could possibly lift an entire helicopter. I sat down, tried to comfort him, telling him that help was coming. I sat with him for nearly ten minutes. Suddenly, I heard war cries. More rebels were coming, they were coming to scour the remains of the chopper.
“Shit Rob, their coming.”
“I'm not leaving you! Not like this!”
"You're gonna get murdered out here. Believe it or not, I'm not going anywhere any time soon."
My eyes surveyed the surrounding territories, looking for cover. The streets were marked with various potholes and craters, no doubt created by explosion. Though none were large enough to hide in. I scanned the rooftops, I noticed one building had a half wall around the edge of the roof. It would provide great cover against enemy fire, and give me a perfect view of the helicopter.
"Johnson, I'll take point on that roof up there," I said, pointing towards the building. "stay here, I'll cover you until help arrives."
"Does it look like I'm going anywhere?"
His face contorted suddenly in pain, he fell unconscious. I tore off his dog tags and limped towards the nearest ally.
That was the last time I ever saw him.
I as ran through the alley, I spotted a door that lay ajar. While holding on to a nearby ledge in order to support my broken leg, I kicked it inward sending pieces of wood flying, as I had apparently broken the flimsy wooden door. Inside the house lay a family, hiding in the corner of the room, a Father covered his two children and wife with his body. The kids were crying.
“Please don’t kill my daughters! Take me instead! Please let them go!”
I was astonished by the fact that he spoke perfect English. I held out a hand to reassure him that I was not hostile.
“Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you. Stay down, and stay quiet.”
I crouched down with my back to them, and my face to the door. Then, I heard footsteps, the footsteps of a kid. He was running, panicked. The footsteps were getting closer to the door, which was completely open seeing as I had broken the entire door upon entry. The footsteps were only feet away now. I could see his shadow arching over the doorway. Upon further inspection, I noticed, hanging over the left of the shadow’s shoulder, was the silhouette of an AK-47.
“Ah fuck, this isn’t going to end well.” I said to myself.
The kid turned through the doorway. He was about 12-14 years old, 5.5 feet tall, wore glasses and a bandana that covered the bottom half of his face. The second he saw us, he un-slung the weapon and pointed it directly at us. He yelled something in Arabic as he pulled the trigger.
In one clean movement, I had un-holstered the knife on my combat boot, and thrown it at him. The knife embedded itself in his middle abdomen region. He began to fall, still holding the trigger. Bullets ricocheted off of the walls, breaking vases and lamps. I lunged and caught the kid, I felt pain shoot up through my leg, at the same time removing the knife and taking the gun from his hands. I rolled out of the doorway, letting the kids body hit the floor. I snapped, this wasn’t the first time I had killed someone, but it was the first time I had killed a kid. I charged out of the alleyway and found myself behind a large 4 story apartment building.
I could hear more war cries and gunfire, they were getting closer, I needed to find a way up the building as soon as possible.
I looked around frantically for a solution. My head spun to the left and my field of view passed over a ladder leading to the top of the apartment building. I quickly climbed to the top, ignoring the searing pain in my right leg and shoulder. Wait, a pain in my shoulder? I didn't remember sustaining any shoulder injuries when I left the helicopter. When I reached the top of the building, I pulled off my body armour and checked my shoulder. As I ripped off my shirt, I saw three bullets holes going clean through my left shoulder, the pain was unbearable.
"Damn, that kid must have shot me!"
The sun was beating down on my head, my own blood was dripping in my hands. Everything went numb, the pain in my leg and shoulder was gone and my vision blurred. That is the last thing I remember of that day.
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I woke up, I could hear a rushing noise, surrounding my senses completely. The rushing sound like the soft hush of moving air. My vision flitted slowly back to me and I could see the interior of a truck. I was surrounded on all sides by metal, and an IV bag hung over my head. My vision flitted back to me completely and I now saw that I was in a helicopter.
“Good to see you are finally awake, I had been worried that you weren’t going to make it through those wounds. The blood was leaving your body faster than anything I had ever seen before. And that heat stroke you had wasn’t helping.”
I turned to see a woman, sitting to the left of me holding a clipboard in one hand, and a pen in the other.
“Where am I?” I asked
“You’re being flown back to base, when we arrived to search the wreckage of that downed chopper, Corporal Lance saw you on the roof, unconscious, so he volunteered to head in. He was able to grab you and carry you back to the extraction zone. He risked his life to save your ass. You need some rest, if y’a need me, just call!”
She walked over to a soldier laying across for me. I placed my head on the pillow and fell into deep sleep.
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That was only one of my encounters that made up my hardship in the Marines, I have many more gruesome stories, some of which replay in my dreams every night as I sleep. Other times I have been called a hero, but I don't approve of that title. I feel that I should not be commended, but punished for the things that I have done, even if I was just following orders or basic survival instincts. Each night I am forced to remember my actions, the images replay themselves in the form of dreams. I don't show it, but my sanity is slowly escaping me.
I tucked my son into bed and walked out of his room. Upon entering the Master bedroom, my wife turned to me.
“Babe, can you get me a glass of water.” she said
“Comon! I just got here, why don’t you get it.”
“Because I’m reading”
“Only for you”
I smiled and left the room, heading down the stairs.
As I was grabbing a glass from the kitchen cabinet, my brain exploded with pain. I cried out in agony and fell on my knees. Everything hurt, my entire body was writhing. My vision disappeared, everything felt fuzzy. My head was buzzing and I could no longer feel my body.
Suddenly, it all stopped. I stood up, everything felt heavier. I looked at my body and noticed that I was in full military gear. A gun hung off of my back, there was a pistol in my holster, a knife in my combat boot, and I was wearing a Kevlar vest.
“What’s happening? Where I am?” I thought to myself.
My eyes scanned the surroundings. I was in a very dense forest. Vines were hanging to every side, and the ground beneath me was scorching, as if an explosion had just occurred. But something was wrong, the blades of grass surrounding me seemed perfect, and every single one of the trees had a scary expression etched into their trunks. I could feel something watching me.
Nothing made sense, where was I? I heard footsteps, small crunching sounds emanating from a nearby bush, very slow and methodical. Suddenly, it lunged at me, a Lion.