by gunnar » Tue Oct 04, 2011 9:30 am
**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.
And the voice of the lord said: Whom shall go for Us? Whom shall We send?
And I heard my own voice reply: I will go. Send Me.