SYRIA

The old sergeant had his platoon strung out in a standard patrol formation with the 4th heavy weapons squad held back as a reserve. The goon squad, as usual was taking point and the Lt was bringing up the rear. It was the companies first time patrolling the border with Syria and the old sergeant didn’t like it for a number of reasons. He was unfamiliar with the people and the territory and he knew that the route they were patrolling had been used for hundreds of years for smuggling even during the evil reign of Saddam.

It was a lawless place and the sergeants company had been tasked with bringing it under control and stopping the terrorists from slinking across the border. The rest of the company was spread out over miles of barren territory, so backup was there but might take a while. They had air cover and even now the old sergeant could hear the whoop whoop of the cowboy’s ancient Huey somewhere off in the distance.

The old sergeants platoon was patrolling so close to Syria that they could see the Syrian military at their border posts. They could also see what appeared to be civilians in trucks, armed to the teeth, waiting for a chance to cross over into Iraq. What the sergeant worried about was that they might just think they could take his platoon head to head. If they tried, it would be a fight because as it was they looked to be very much out manned.

Darkness was approaching and he ordered the platoon to form a defensive perimeter around an old run down safe house so the men could get a meal and a few could sleep. He made sure everyone patrolling was alert and using their NVG’s so they could see in the encroaching darkness. It was a dangerous time.

About two hours into the night they heard engines being started and the sergeant ordered everyone up and out of the old safe house and into foxholes dug into the still hot sand. The old road ran not more than 30 meters away from the goon squad and that is where the sergeant figured the fight would break out, if the Muj had the balls to take them on. Because they surely knew the Americans where there. Sure enough several enemy trucks started down the road but unexpectedly several more split up and headed across the open desert.

At the same instant mortar fire started to drop on them and if he didn’t know better he would say that it was coming from INSIDE Syria. Angry now the old sergeant started barking orders to open fire on the trucks and he radioed for the weapons squad to start pounding the mortar positions. M-4 Carbine fire started slicing the night air and was soon joined by incoming AK-47 rounds. The Lt radioed the company CO and informed him they were engaged and asked for air support.

As the old sergeant expected the first voice he heard from the air was cowboy. “Hey, sarge! You should see this! It looks like the fourth of July down there.”

“Yeah, well if you don’t get your ass over here and help us stop those trucks it’s going to look like the fourth of July where you are, because I’m going to shoot you myself.”

Two seconds later the .50cals on the old Huey were aflame and dropping spent casings down like hot rain. A huge explosion just to the platoons flank told the sergeant that one truck had not made it far. The good squad had several other trucks under fire and the battle was indeed joined with a vengeance.

“Second and third squads! Swing your fire to help the goon squad take out those trucks,” the old sergeant yelled into his radio. A mortar round landed not 10 meters in front of the old sergeant. Grabbing the radio again he yelled, “Cowboy would you PLEASE take out those mortar positions. That last round got sand in my eyes.”

“Uh, sarge you know those positions are IN Syria don’t you,” cowboy said in a voice that meant he really didn’t care.

The sergeant looked at the Lt and got a nod. “Yeah, well I don’t care if they’re in California. TAKE THEM OUT!”

The old sergeant could hear cowboy laughing as the rocket pods on the side of the Huey let loose. Explosion after explosion rose above the mortar positions as extra mortar rounds cooked off in the heat. But the shelling stopped.

“You didn’t see that, right sarge? The cowboy said into his radio.

“See what cowboy? All I saw was a training accident on the Syrian side of the border.”

The sergeant could hear cowboy laughing again as the Huey turned away looking for more excitement. The pace of the battle had slowed tremendously with just an occasional pop of a carbine round. It was 0400hrs. The Lt was off talking on the radio reporting to command. The sergeant was about to order a cease-fire when one of the goon squad came running up.

“Pappy, be careful. The Muj have about 50 guys trying to sneak up on you from the left flank. If they get close they’ll cut our guys to ribbons.”

The sergeant looked at the goon squad man in amazement. “Jonesey, I thought you were seriously wounded two weeks ago and was in Germany?”

“Naw,” Jonesey said. “Wasn’t that bad pappy. I flew back in last night. Didn’t have a chance to report.”

“Yeah, well ok great. Get back to 1st squad and thanks for the warning. Pappy immediately called for an orbiting F-18 and gave the pilot the coordinates on their left flank where a few minutes later several precision guided munitions landed right on target. Now, that saved our bacon for sure, the old sergeant thought. Jonesey would be in line for a medal for this.

Morning finally arrived and with it the rest of the company. The old sergeant reported the “accident” on the Syrian side of the border to which the CO simply replied, “Sergeant your platoon seems to always be in the neighborhood when someone has an “accident. You’re dismissed.”

As the sergeant was checking on his platoon he ran across the doc. “Everyone ok doc?”

“Everyone made it pappy. A few cuts and minor wounds but nothing serious.” The doc said.

“Well, you can thank Jonesey for that. He ran up and warned me about that sneak attack. If it hadn’t been for him we could have been wiped out.”

The doc became very quiet. “Pappy, I just found out an hour ago from a friend of mine in Germany. Jonesey died last night in the hospital. At almost exactly 0400hrs.” God only knows what you saw.

The old sergeants eyes glazed over for a moment. Finally he said, “Yes, God only knows.

But he was still on duty and he WILL get his medal.” Pappy turned and walked off, staring out into the desert.

© Steven Newton