October 2nd, 2005 - Afghanistan - Kyle Black

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0930 Hrs (Local time), Afghanistan

SSG Black woke early that morning, much like every other morning in country. After checking in at the Command post briefly, he made his way to the makeshift showers to get cleaned up and face another day in the mountains of Afghanistan. On his way to the showers, he ran into one of his team leaders, and nodded to the other man. SGT Dale Flemming was a good kid, just barely 22 and on his first combat deployment, he was already turning into a fine asset for the platoon and the company as a whole. His team lead the way by every measure, and he was universally liked.

Little did Kyle realize, tonight, he would be writing a letter to SGT Flemming's soon to be widow and the daughter he would never have the opportunity to meet.

"SGT Flemming, SGT Hisermann, get your teams together, we get to go for a walk a little later on today. I'll have details in ten, and I want to see rehearsals being conducted in twenty."

SGT Hisermann was 26, he'd joined the Army after 9/11, 'to get back at those bastards' he'd said. Not really the most patriotic soul, but he was about as good a team leader as you could ask for, but that was the limit of his capabilities. Hisermann might see Staff Sergeant in a year or two, if he had decided to stay in the Army, but after three tours overseas, he was tired of it, and done.

The mission was a simple one on paper. They were to recon a small village about thirty kilometers away from the combat outpost. Taken by helicopter to a designated landing zone, and then walk the rest of the way in. Predator drones would provide initial support and air coverage. Intelligence suggested that the villagers were being leaned on by Taliban insurgents because of their pro-government leanings. The Tribal Elders had indicated that there was nothing going on, but Higher up didn't quite believe them. Kyle's section (two teams, 11 men total) would enter the village, look for contraband, and on completion, get picked up again at the LZ.

Simple plans on paper, are never quite so simple in their execution....

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The team had assembled their gear, SGTs Flemming and Hisermann had both conducted their pre combat checks and inspections, everyone was ready to go. A single UH-60 black hawk would arrive in fifteen minutes to take them to the mission start point.

"Okay boys and girls, everyone get on the bus!" SSG Black shouted over the whine of the helo's turbine engines.

Spirited away to their destination, the flight through Afghanistan's mountainous terrain went uneventfully, a calm that belied the coming storm.

Dismounting from the Helo, the squad scattered to establish a perimeter as the UH-60 took off again, disappearing into the bright sky.

**12:30 hrs, local Afghanistan time, October 2nd, 2005**

Things were going fairly uneventfully, to be honest, it was another boring patrol through another crappy little village filled with people who were more concerned about where their next meal would come from than who was running the country. In a way, it was like stepping back in time four hundred years. Meeting with the village elders, SSG Black discussed (in passable Pushtu) what had been going on as of late, and sat and took coffee with the elder. Together, they spoke of simple things, the changes of the weather, the poor crops this year. After some time, they moved onto the business at hand. Kyle was reassured that this village had no dealings with the Taliban directly, and the elder was only concerned with the welfare of his people. Assuring the Elder that Kyle and his men would be leaving soon, they turned back to lighter topics, though Kyle was forced to decline the offer of opium that was extended to him.

Thanking him for his hospitality, SSG Black rose and stepped outside of the low mud brick building to take stock of things. It was a nothing assignment, in a nowhere place, and they had found nothing.

**14:26, Local Time, October 2nd, 2005**

As the squad prepared to move out, a faint glint was spotted on the hills overlooking the village "INCOMING!" shouted PFC Long, one of the riflemen in SGT Flemming's team, as an RPG streaked down and exploded against the wall of one of the huts, sending shards of stone and metal in all directions, filling the air with dust and smoke. Almost at the same time, the chatter of a russian made RPK filled the air as bullets began impacting all around them. Taking cover behind whatever was available, SSG Black and his squad began to return fire.

at the base of the hill, a series of AK-47's began to fire, providing SGT Hisermann's team with a new target. directing his SAW gunner to lay suppressing fire, SGT Hisermann had ,SPC Vasco lobbed a couple of grenade rounds in their direction with his M-203 grenade launcher.

Things were deteriorating rapidly, but it remained to be seen how bad they were going to get

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Soon, a third set of guns opened up on the pinned down squad, and SGT Hisermann was hit in the thigh. Acting quickly, the medic detailed to the squad deftly halted the bleeding, Hisermann waved him off, growling that he wasn't bad, and that Specialist Jones (the medic) needed to go see if anyone else was hit.

What they couldn't possibly have known was that it wasn't simply a small band of fighters they were pinned down by, but nearly forty. Forty swarthy men armed with a mixture of cast off soviet equipment, but they were veterans of decades of fighting, they knew what it was to push an invader from their homeland, they had seen the route of the Soviets in the 80's. And now, the Americans were here. The more things change...

Forty against eleven. So far, (unknown to SSG Black and his squad) they had suffered three casualties, one when a casing failed in the chamber, causing his AK-47 to violently fail. One due to the punishing automatic rifle fire from SGT Flemming's team, and one now to SPC Vasco's M-203 grenade launcher.

On the side of the Americans, SGT Hisermann had suffered a painful but not life threatening injury to his left leg, a through and through flesh wound. This meant that the Taliban was now at 37, GI's 11. Higher ground and intimate knowledge of the terrain however, meant that this would not long remain the state of affairs.

**1510, Battle of Nahrin**

"Damn these fucking radios!" SGT Hisermann cursed as they again failed to raise anyone from higher. Soon though, one of the predator drones would be overhead and able to relay their communication signal out to the tube arty back in the 'rear'. This were getting hairy and quick. SGT Flemming was organizing his men to attempt to flank the group of Taliban to their west who were currently pinned down by SSG Black and the radio operator. SGT Hisermann's team was busy providing a base of fire on the main enemy element, keeping them from simply overrunning their position. The villagers, for their part had fled, leaving empty homes behind.

So far, the battle had been raging for more than 30 minutes, SSG Black's team had left the base with a full combat load, plus 25% distributed among the squad. They also had ditched some of the non-essentials in favor of carrying more water. Non-essentials like spare batteries for the radios, which never really worked all that well in the mountainous terrain of A-stan. Spare batteries that if they kept operating at the rate they have been, would become essential to maintain comms with higher once the predator drones were on the scene.

"SGT Fleming, on your go." SSG Black would accompany his younger team leader as they flanked the closest Taliban group. PFC Lloyd, the radioman, was left with SGT Hisermann to relay their situation once the drone was overhead, with instructions to call for fire on the taliban on the hill with the RPK.

This decision would end up saving his life, though it would cost SGT Flemming his.

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**1520 - Battle of Nahrin**

"Ready? Go go go!" Sgt Flemming told his men and SSG Black. Dashing from behind cover, SSG Black, CPL Davies, and PFC Tran sprinted from cover towards a short stone fence. While they ran, SGT Flemming and his automatic rifleman provided covering fire, pinning the insurgents in place and preventing them from firing on the men in the open.

nearly tripping as he ran, CPL Davies manages to keep his feet the last ten yards before ducking behind the low stone wall. PFC Tran ended up on his left, SSG Black on his right. Between the three of them, they had two M-203's, three M-4's, and one M-9. SSG Black Nodded to the other two men, who popped up along side him to provide cover fire for SGT Flemming and the SAW Gunner, PFC Knight, as they ran to link up with them.

SGT Hisermann's team was doing their damnedest to continue to keep the other insurgent groups pinned down, and were calling for artillery on the hill above them. 105mm howitzers with Bravo Battery, 4/27th Field Artillery detailed to the area, received the firemission and dialed in the coordinants given them. Overhead a lone predator drone began relaying real time video of the battle, just as the Bravo Battery came back on the radio indicating rounds were in the air, it would be mere seconds before the hillside immediately above the insurgents with the RPK erupted in smoke and flame as the high explosives contained in the first salvo caused rocks the size of a man to begin tumbling down the hill

Those that weren't immediately killed by shrapnel or other flying debris ran to get out of the way of the boulders that had begun to roll towards them. Out in the open, SGT Hisermann's team made short work of them, leaving now only two groups of insurgents to deal with.

SGT Flemming and his team had reconstituted themselves and were preparing for another bound towards the group they were assaulting. However, there was nothing but open ground the last 100 meters to the targets. Over the squad radio, SSG Black called SGT Hisermann and put in a request for artillery smoke to cover their assault. Unfortunately, the fog of war, or in this case, smoke, worked both ways. What the insurgents could not see, also could not see the insurgents who were setting up an ambush for the assault they knew was inevitable

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**1520 - Battle of Nahrin***

Artillery shells fell from the sky in a steel rain. On impact, dense white smoke began to billow forth, immediately obscuring friend and foe alike. The wind had changed slightly and was drawing up the valley, pushing the thick smoke towards the insurgents, their opportunity was now or never. Rolling over top of the low wall, SSG Black along with SGT Flemming and his team began their assault on the enemy position.

SGT Hisermann and his team shifted fire to help suppress the insurgents ahead of SGT Flemming's team as they assaulted, unfortunately having to split their attentions between the group of insurgents they were still engaged with. Charging across open terrain in plain sight would have been suicidal at best, though with smoke concealment it made the most sense of their options, as there were no air assets that would be sent to assist them, and their artillery was being called for another mission, leaving them with just an unarmed predator drone for communications relay. Training took over, with every minor swell in the terrain, every deadzone they could take advantage of. Making themselves as small a target as possible, bounding ever closer to the target.

The insurgents had returned fire at SGT Hisermann's team, their AK-47's chattering as they continued to fire on full auto and shout at eachother in some dialect SSG Black couldn't place. Throwing grenades and firing on burst, SSG Black and the other half of his squad began their final push on the enemy positions.

During the assault, Kyle took a piece of shrapnel across his left forearm, PFC Tran fell as a insurgent's bullet struck him in the throat even as he took down one with a burst in the chest, SGT Flemming killed three of the seven insurgents still standing and the four that were left were heading to the hills at a dead run, mostly covered by the remnants of smoke. Seeing that PFC Tran was already gone, SGT Flemming gathered his men once more, looking to SSG Black with a grim look that spoke of boundless determination and a steely resolve.

"Lets get the rest of these bastards!"

Bracing himself on a boulder, SGT Flemming took aim and shot one of the running taliban fighters in the backs, as PFC Knight took down the
other three with his M-249. Breathing hard, SGT Flemming took stock of his remaining team, and nodded to SSG Black

"Okay, we're amber... but we can finish this."
marshalling the team, they set up to provide covering fire for SGT Hisermann's team. SGT Flemming patted SSG Black as he moved past him, "Get us a ride out of here Boss, We've got this." And no more than a split second later, as SGT Hisermann's team began to assault through the remaining insurgents, SGT Flemming shouted "Lookout!!" and shoved SSG Black to the ground as a fighter who had remained hidden after his comrades were gunned down suddenly rose and began dumping rounds in their direction. SSG Black landed on his chest with a loud grunt, but was below the plane of fire from the attack, while SGT Flemming took three rounds in a chest plate, and a fourth in the meat of his thigh. Firing from the prone position, SSG Black, PFC Knight, and CPL Davies all fired on the attacking insurgent, with more than a dozen rounds striking him in the abdomen and chest. SPC Jones work furiously to control the bleed but he knew that if a medivac did not arrive in the next few minutes, it would be too late.

Little by little, the volume of fire coming from on the hill, where the remaining insurgents had been began to dwindle, until a deafening silence fell over the landscape. SSG Black could only hear the pounding of blood in his ears, and the ringing from the sustained firefight. Two of his men were dead, several injured, to include himself. And the medivac arrived mere moments too late, having had to divert enroute to another priority casualty elsewhere. Accompanied by a CH-47, the medivac and SSG Black's remaining soldiers returned to base for debriefings, a meeting with the chaplain, and to mourn.

**2200, October 2nd, 2005, Afghanistan - SSG Black's quarters**

Dear Mrs. Flemming,

It is with heavy heart, and profound sadness that I write to you regarding your Husband,

Dale...

***1030, October 2nd, Present, New Hampshire, USA**

SFC Black stood in front of the simple marble cross standing proudly in the field of green grass, dressed in the proud regalia of an American Paratrooper. His chest had grown heavy with decorations and medals of battles fought, though to him, they held a different weight than mere metal. They were reminders of the past. Of the men who had served, and died while under his command.

Placing a small case on the top of the cross, SFC Kyle Black opened it slowly, revealing the Silver Star Medal, with 'V' device for valor, along with a sealed letter wrapped in plastic, addressed to Mrs. Flemming and her daughter Valorie.

Taking a single step back, SFC Black stood ridgedly at the position of attention, slowly raising his hand to salute SGT Dale Flemming's gravestone. Crisply returning to the postion of attention, Kyle let out a slow sigh and again stepped forward to place his hand on the stone... "I didn't get the chance then, so I'm just going to have to keep saying it: My thanks will never be enough Dale."

Standing again, SFC Black turned crisply on his heel and strode back towards the waiting government van.