Horror and Thriller Non-Fiction posted March 17, 2017


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Elite Commandos Kick Ass!

Blood and Guts!

by junglefighter


The author has placed a warning on this post for violence.
The author has placed a warning on this post for language.

"To my Elite Friends wherever you are"

I remember as though it were yesterday, Captain Smith yelling! "Get out of the chopper and down the ladder, Commandos. The ISIS guerrillas are waiting. So go kick ass." At that moment, Sergeant West manned the door gun and began firing point blank on the assholes below. We quickly scaled the ladder, then dropped among the body parts on the ground.
How ironic, I thought, that we and the bastards had arrived at the same time.

As we watched, Captain Smith lifted the chopper straight up to around 1000-feet, did a rainbow circle then came back with his gun blazing . Circle after circle, Sergeant West sat at the door gun firing round after round. Then he yelled; "This one's for Ole Glory, and the next is for, Bill. Hurrah and Semper Fidelis."

Although Captain Smith and I poked fun at one another occasionally, we were joined at the hips in combat operations. Suddenly, an orange flash and kaboom caused me to panic momentarily. As we watched, a ground launched missile rocketed skyward then entered into the engine exhaust of the chopper. The fireball of the explosion illuminated the sky.

"God help them! I cried." Swiping the radio from my satchel, I called; "Rescue 71! This is Commando One."

"This is 71! Go ahead, Bill."

"Did you see the fireball, Ron?"

"God! Bill. Could of seen it from the Smoky Mountains. Don't tell me it was Captain Smith and crew."

"Affirmative! Please, get 'em the hell outta there quick."

"I'm hauling ass, Mountain Man."

"Oh, my God! How could anyone live through that, Bill?"

"You just asked God, John. Be patient. He's awfully busy at the moment."

Dear, Jesus! "What's wrong with this world? We keep killing one another like flies. Will it ever stop?" I whispered to myself. With the ISIS guerrillas focusing on the rescue attempt, respite came to us. An occasional nervous swallow being the only concession to our predicament.

"Commando, One! 71 here."

"Talk to me, Ron."

"There were no survivors, Bill. Only ashes and dog-tags. I'm so sorry!"

"Bag 'em and take 'em home, Ron. And thanks for trying, my friend. I'll write a deposition if I make it outta here. And if I don't, please, write it for them."

"You betcha, Bill."

"Hurrah!" I yelled, "let's give 'em hell," and we fired our weapons until the barrels were red. Sadly, we watched as the closest guerrillas scampered along the rocks. Some hopped and bled, others dragged their guts along the ground.

May I introduce our team:

Of course, I'm Bill, an Air Force Commando and Team Leader.
Curt and Bob are Navy Seals.
Roy and John are Army Green Berets.
Dick and Carl are Marine Delta Experts.

And to "Blow our Horn!" So to speak. We are among the finest trained Special Forces Combatants in the world. Our combined expertise is in explosives, intelligence, language, the martial arts, first aid, and the tactics, techniques and procedures used by the ISIS Guerrillas in Iraq and Afghanistan.

On to the story...

"My God! Bill, those assholes are thicker than a swarm of African bees. How many you figure?"

"More than in a damn swarm of bees, Bob. Therefore, load and ready your weapons, put your knife blades between your teeth and let's sing; Hurrah, Hurrah."

"We don't have time for singing, Bill. There's a whole lotta pigs to slaughter. Plus, I could never carry a tune in a bucket."

"Maybe so! Yet I was told; you did commendably well in Seal School. That is, with exception of wetting the bed and calling for mommy ."

"Oh, so! Whoever told you that, should have told you as well; I put a scorpion in your mess kit. Ouch! "

"God! This Commando is crazy. Please, someone call the shrink. Take your intervals, men, and let's go put the metal in their bellies. My knife blade is sure getting rusty! After our launching one grenade after another, and firing our weapons on fully automatic clip after clip, I yelled, "Hurrah! This one's for Captain Smith and Crew, you banana eating bastards."

After an hour of our forging the fires of hell, the smoke cleared and nothing moved. That is with exception to, the red blood from the body parts running down the hill.

"Not a bad day's work for the seven of us, Bill. What's next?"

"A can of rations, canteen of water and a little shut-eye, Carl. I'm gonna dictate a deposition. Would you write it for me, please?"

"It would be an honor, Bill. It's gonna be hard. And if your eyes tear up, I'll not tell anyone. I'm ready any time you are, Boss."

"To whom it may concern. Captain Smith, Lieutenant Hines, Staff Sergeant West and Corporal Hopkins, all of the U.S. Army Black Hawk Helicopter 34, were transporting Commando Team Leader, W. Isaac "Bill" Bishop and Team Members to their drop-off site in the Mountains of Northern Iraq, when attacked by hostile enemy ground forces. Minutes after dropping the team into position, all were killed instantly by a ground-launched SA-7 Russian made missile when it exploded in the engine exhaust of the helicopter. All solders distinguished themselves conspicuously by gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of their lives. Therefore, I recommend that they be recognized posthumously for their actions, both above and beyond the call of duty."

After writing the deposition, I quickly became angry at God. And later on, irate toward Captain Smith, for his showoff theatrics and lollygagging around, rather than hauling ass and staying alive. His mother once told me; "James is very histrionic and should have gone to Hollywood, rather than Pilot's Training." And now, as I stood among the body parts, I wiped a tear from my eye, looked toward Heaven and whispered; "Thank you, God! For sending him our way. Otherwise, We'd all be dead now."

"The deposition is ready, Bill."

"Thanks, Carl. I'll need all of your signatures as witnesses, Commandos."

"My God, Bill! Our signing seems so little, for their literally saving our asses."

"It's not only for them, my friends, it's for their families as well. Please, remember, no names are to be mentioned pending next of kin notification, okay? It's time to get some sleep.
See the overhang on the cliff above? That will put a wall behind our backs and a mattress
under our asses. We'll do one-hour security watches per man, starting with me. Curt will be next, then Bob, Roy, John, Dick and Carl. Of course, there's seven of us, so this schedule will give us six-hours of sleep. Please, stay alert on your watch. Any questions?"

"Expecting an ambush, aren't you, Bill?"

"Yes, Dick. Our chances are around 99.9 percent certain. Roy! If I'm taken out,
you're in command. Then next in line are; Carl, Bob, John and Carl."

"God, Bill! I can't tell the good guys from the bad."

"The bad guys will be shooting at your ass, Roy."

"Question, Bill. If everyone is taken out with exception of myself. What'll I do""

"Thank God your still alive, Dick! Let's hit the hay, Commandos."

Finding a flat rock by the overhang, I sat down and crouched low. Sweat ran into my eyes and stung like hell. God! It was so hot, humid and depressing. "Poor boy!" I whispered, then waited for the inevitable.

And it came quickly in the form of a bright flash from below, and then another and another. "Oh, God! They're firing missiles on us" I yelled. "Kaboom, kaboom, kaboom!" Two warheads exploded above us, and the third directly in back on the ledge.

The concussion from the blast sent us stumbling and tumbling against the rock. "Roll call, Commandos!" I screamed. One by one they answered; "I'm okay, Bill." And I thanked God for His mercy.

"Hurrah!" I yelled, "Let's go give 'em hell." And we fought! Some died in the folds of Ole Glory. Those who lived came home and yet, at times, we are haunted by the memory of it all. A "SALUTE!" to our heroes.

Hope my little story touched your hearts. Wishing you good health and happiness always, wherever you are.
















I Remember contest entry

Recognized


Oh, we beat the drums quickly then clashed the cymbals. And the Blood and Guts
of it all, is etched on my mind. I stand on the hallowed grounds, then listen as a lonely bugler sounds TAPS. It echoes across the headstones of our brave men and women, then on against the ears of God. "Hurrah!" I whispered, then said, "Goodbye," to them all. Hope my little story; "Touched your hearts." Wishing all; "Good health and happiness always," wherever you are.
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

Artwork by avmurray at FanArtReview.com

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