COL Nighthawk, Day 2

Today began early. This was still training, but we had all begun to take it a little more seriously. We headed out to our training convoy staging area early to begin our PMC (Preventative Maintenance Check) before pulling out. We finished quickly, and we had a few minutes to “smoke and joke” around and on the vehicles. I always like standing around a humvee with body armor and magazines full of bullets, joking with Moon and the Jap. It gives me this feeling that I’ll never be able to describe or forget. It’s almost like something out of a movie: all the soldiers standing around, geared up and armed, holding helmets underneath arms and talking away. Some joking, some smoking, some just sipping their last cup o’ joe before jumping in and driving off. It’s a sight to see, especially when we have a big convoy. Then the rally signal goes out to mount up and move out, and it’s game on.

Since it had seemed like I had a rain cloud literally following me, Chicken decided I should drive for this convoy instead of gunning. I agreed, mostly because my ass hurt from sitting on the slim gunner’s sling and I didn’t want to stand either. So I drove. Moon was my VC this time, and our platoon sergeant actually got up in the turret. He’s a salty old fellow from Guam. Seen his share of shit, and I’m still wondering why he hasn’t retired even though he’s well over his 20 year mark. I guess if you’re that good at soldiering, you should stay in until your body quits. Well, the Crazy Islander still had it in him, and he spun a good turret today.

We ran through some woods and streams, checking under bridges and underneath overpasses for IEDs. The Crazy Islander spotted some snipers I swear I would have missed, and we had a few run-ins with some unruly town people. The convoy seemed to be pretty quiet, until we hit Route Buckaneer. There was a message put out on the net that a VIP was somewhere along this route, making a sale of explosives to insurgents. If we saw him or his trademarked black sedan, we were to shoot on sight. As soon as I made the turn onto Route Buckaneer, we all puckered up at the sight of it. Heavy woods sided on a one lane gravel road, stretching up a hill and back down the other side. This was perfect territory for an ambush, and if we knew where the VIP was, chances were that he had a hint that we were coming. We hit a few IEDs that missed, and we ended up speeding through the route, with no sign of the VIP. At the end of the route, we formed a box with the humvees and ran an ACE report (Ammo, Casualties, and Equipment) up to Chicken. Well, Chicken had been hit and our second convoy commander had to step in. That’s when the shit hit the fan. Sergeant Know-it-all, someone I'll be describing in great detail later on, apparently didn’t know it all when it came to the current situation, and we ended up sitting in that box formation for a good half hour while he tried to get a handle on everything. Nothing like hearing a senior NCO babble and studder on the radio, being cussed out by and officer that wants to know what the SITREP is (SITuation REPort). I started to get hungry, so while the Crazy Islander watched my sector, I pulled out and apple to eat. Well, when I moved my bag there was a red wasp underneath it and it flew out. It must have hid inside somewhere over night. Well I started batting and swatting, and Moon cut the radio transmission he was giving short to swat at it too. I was told later that Moon still had his hand on the call button, and the whole convoy heard us swearing and screaming, including when the bugger actually stung me. Yeah, I got stung AGAIN, this time on my left cheek down by my jaw. Everyone had a good laugh at it but me, mostly because it looked like I got slugged with a freaking brick. I was not happy.

We started on the route back to Nighthawk, thinking nothing else could happen, but something did of course. The lead vehicle, minus Chief Blackfoot this time, passed a vehicle sitting on the right side of the road near a bridge. It’s convoy common sense not to pass vehicles sitting on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere without checking them out. They could be VBIEDs, Vehicle Borne Improvised Explosive Devices. Well, humvee 1 blew past, so humvee 2 thought it was good to go. I watched my buddy the Jap jump back in his turret when the simulator blast went off 2 feet from the humvee. In real life I would have been picking up bits of his helmet hundreds of yards away, but luckily this was just training. Humvee 1 stopped about 100 meters up the road and just sat there. Small arms fire could be heard off to the right, so I decided to do something instead of just sitting there. I gunned my humvee and steered toward humvee 2. I was off the side of the road, and it was pretty muddy from the rain the day before. I heard the Crazy Islander laughing his ass off and we fishtailed sideways and threw up a muddy rooster tail 20 feet high. Finally I got traction and raced over the right side of humvee 2 to provide covering fire on their right. I looked into the humvee, and not to my surprise I saw the Complainer in the driver’s seat, frustrated to tears because her VC was yelling at her. We cleared it all up and got the hell out of there and back to Nighthawk. I still looked like I’d been sacked by a NFL lineman from that damn wasp, and I was tired as all hell. We actually got the rest of the night off after that 8 hour mess of a convoy, and I slept until morning without even waking for dinner chow.

-Mac