Char-e-Baia

The CH-53 shuddered as it hit the Helmand field. We stood up and got ready to disembark. My NVGs hung awkwardly in front of my face. Marines filed out of the belly of the helicopter and into the black night.

As I ran out, the exhaust from the bird baked the cool night air. Like the fuel-stained breath of a metallic dragon. The whining engine, its war cry. The freshly tilled field made running dangerous. Every step sent my body in the opposite direction. My NVGs bounced out of position. My heavy pack threatened to pull me backward. My ears strained to hear the snapping of any bullets above the chopping rotors.

THWAP THWAP THWAP THWAP

The further I ran away from the bird, the more the rotor sounded like it was slapping the air. Green in front of me went prone. I looked behind and watched the Marine following me through the green static haze of my NVGs. I checked the ground below me for any signs of IEDs. Tilled field. No way of finding out.

I threw my pack on the ground and went prone. I used my pack as a stable shooting platform and readjusted my NVGs. What I didn't want was a firefight at night. Baker Company had just gone through one. I scanned the tree line and anticipated the flashing strobe lights of muzzle flashes.

But all I saw was the slow sway of nighttime trees.

The CH-53 whined higher. The rotor spun faster and clapped the air as it lifted from the ground. Dust enveloped my world as the rotary wash covered all of the Marines in dust. Poppy stalks flew through the air like projectiles.

The quiet summer night reclaimed its peace as the Marines of 3rd Platoon lay in a half-circle. Waiting.

The Weapons Company commander was inside the compound. He planned the next portion of the patrol. The Helmand sun baked away the morning coolness. I lay prone and held security outside the compound.

Sweat dripped down my forehead. My eyes quivered with the tiredness of an early morning. I scanned the field in front of me. Lush and green. A thick tree line concealed a group of compounds to my right. I checked those buildings through my RCO. That tree line made me nervous.

The morning was beautiful but pregnant with danger. Reminding me of those Sunday mornings back home. Where the sun was bright. Warming your face as you went to church.

Except here, the sun baked my face like a ruthless furnace. The wind carried the stink of burning trash.

I decided, against better judgment, that a cigarette would make this morning perfect. I pulled out a cig, sparked my lighter, and inhaled that sweet nicotine. It melted any nerves that I had. I watched the smoke slowly curl in dead, hot air.

SNAP SNAP SNAP SNAP.

"Fucking damn it," I said.

Josh, my team leader, yelled, "Ski, put your fucking cigarette out!"

I complied. What a waste of a smoke.

Another burst of PKM fire snapped and rippled the peaceful morning. I locked into my RCO and scanned the treeline for any signs of enemy. Flashing. Silhouettes. But I saw nothing.

The PKM slapped the air, and I could hear that the Taliban were close. Their bullets snapped the air like bubble wrap. That staccato snap-dance. They were shooting at First Squad, who were to my left in another compound.

I scanned the position of the Taliban, or at least where I thought they were.

Nothing.

The snapping became more intense, and the outside security element, which included me, was called into the compound.

Our platoon sergeant placed Green and me on top of the roof. Green was aiming through his SAW and I tried to pick out targets for him through my RCO.

"Should I fire?" Green asked.

"Hold on, man, I don't see anything," I said. "They might be in another compound beyond the one we're looking at."

I couldn't wait to see a silhouette holding a weapon and to see Green let his SAW eat. There was a possible egress route to the right of the compound that would be a wet dream for Green's SAW.

Our machine gun team finally ran inside. They were getting shot at while they displaced. First Squad finally began returning fire. What took them so long? The M240B they had thundered the morning air like the hammer of God.

It sang the hymn "Die Motherfucker, Die Motherfucker, Die Motherfucker, Die."