Austin Yaeger
Creative Writing
Mission Two
It was the second, and final, time we had to go to Iraq. I always had a love hate relationship with that place. Our first trip wasn’t very successful because some Iraqi soldiers just had to flank us and we had to haul out of there. The first trip there was fun… at first. I got a couple decent long range kills and so did my buddies. We also learned a lot more about what war was like, and what soldiers really had to deal with. My spotter was my best friend, just because he sat by me for 3 days straight scouting out enemies and trying find where to go next. Our main goal was to take an outpost on a hill in the northwestern corner of Iraq. We were almost there when we got ambushed from the south. The soon to be second trip will be the same goal. Take out the main outpost and kill the terrorists and save the refugees or anyone else that needs help. Our deploy date is September 3, which is in 5 days.
5 days later
The day had finally come where we were heading off to Iraq. Our officer woke us all up at 4:00 am, and we packed up everything and hopped in the humvees, which is just another name for a hummer. We headed to the airport to take off and threw all of our stuff in the plane. I had to take a quick stop to throw up just from all the nerves going insane. As we boarded the plane, my friend said to me, “Wake up, this is only the beginning.” I already knew it but I didn’t want to tell him that and make him feel bad, so I kept it to myself.
We flew from San Diego to some weird small airport in Iraq. The landing was very rough, as our pilot was a newby. I had to give him crap for it because all my stuff went flying and my bags fell open. We unloaded all of our stuff and headed to base camp. We arrived in Iraq time around 8ish, so when we arrived, we dropped our stuff and crashed. We woke up around 4, again, to start the mission. Our goal was to not make the same mistakes as last time, but to capitalize on what we did wrong. As a team, we need to make sure we are more stealthy, which is why I think we got flanked.
I think we walked a solid 20 miles by the time we reached our destination. The team and I were face to face with a giant hill. It was about 200 feet tall and let’s just say I was not prepared to climb it. As we slowly made the incline up, we always had 2 navigators and spotters telling us where things were. As we were climbing, we reached about halfway up the hill, and one of the spotters abruptly stopped and said, “Stop! East, halfway down the mountain.” We were headed north up the hill, so all 11 of us turned our heads to the right, almost in perfect sync. It turned out it was just a goat on a rock, but I can see how a spur of the moment situation, it could be anything. As we made it three fourths of the way up, no one was really paying attention to the east anymore. The others were looking up the hill to see how much further we were from the top. I decided to look eastward and saw even more goats. I didn’t think more of it, but a little further up the hill were 4 or 5 herders. They were holding something in their hands. I couldn’t tell if they were guns or staffs, so I quietly, but at the same time loudly, “East! With something in their hands!”
Again, all of my squads’ heads turned and all of our bodies dropped. I was praying to God they didn’t see us. One of the spotters pulled out his spotting scope and got a visual on them. Two of the four had guns, which looked like AK-47s, the typical weapon used by Iraqi’s. We tried to hunker down best we could and crawl up the mountain without them noticing. The hill was very steep, which made the climb so much more enjoyable (sarcasm). We accomplished that goal and made it all the way up without them noticing. At the top, we pointed out the town that we had to take over. We spotted about 15 Iraqi soldiers with weapons.
“North about 15 soldiers, all carryi-“
Those were the last words my friend said to me, as he was shot, directly in the head. My best friend, laying there motionless. I rushed over to him, but my team yelled at me to stay down. I blocked them yelling out of my head, and instead, yelled back for a medic. It was too late. It was from a sniper, but the location was unknown. We looked everywhere, but being careful at the same time. One of the members called in air support and everything alike. No one knows why he called it in, but I’m sure glad he did; because we needed it. About a minute later, we were surrounded by Iraqi soldiers, but had the high ground. Shots coming all around us, no where to go. My worst nightmare was this. We sat for about 30 minutes, letting them waste all of their ammunition. Our thought was if they have no more ammo, they become defenseless.
Then, out of nowhere, came the very distinct sound of an A10 warthog, “BRRRRRRRRRRTT”.
My squad new that noise from anywhere; The sound of freedom. I knew now that we had backup, but I knew it wasn’t over. We couldn’t rely fully on just air support, we had to rely on ourselves too. As the enemies were distracted, we rolled down the hill; quite literally. The fastest way down was rolling, because of how steep it was. We reached the bottom and didn’t care to wipe the dirt off or clean up. We didn’t have time for that. We needed to complete our mission. We charged the town, while air support gunned down the big stuff. As the soldiers were distracted, we cleared out the town. We checked each and every house for refugees or anyone else that needed help. Rodney, one of my other good friends, called for a helicopter to come pick us up, which is exactly what happened. The chopper came and we all escaped, except for Paul. Paul was only twenty two years old, married and had a child on the way. I couldn’t stop thinking of it. It killed me that I saw him get shot and how I couldn’t do anything to help. I kept thinking to myself of a way I could’ve saved him, but I knew deep down I couldn’t.
After the, what felt like forever and a day, drive, we finally arrived back at the same airport we landed at. We all piled in and the pilot booked it all the way back to San Diego. I’m pretty sure we all passed out as soon as we hit the seats because no one knew nor remembered the flight back. When we arrived at the airport at the base, I grabbed all my bags and items from my room and gave my last goodbyes to the place I called home for nine long years. I yanked my wad of keys out of my pocket and spammed the unlock button, waiting for the horn to honk. I hopped in my Ford F-350 and blazed all the way home. When I rolled up to my house, my wife was waiting outside with a big sign and everything of the sorts. My dog, Nickel, also waiting very patiently next to her side, just like I taught him. I slammed the shifter into park and let out a deep sigh and thought to myself, “It’s good to be back.” But I knew that it wasn’t all good. I instantly thought about Paul’s family and everyone that knew him, and my feelings suddenly changed to deep sorrow. I also thought about his son, and how he will never be able to see his father.
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.” Matthew 5:9
Authors Note – This is the 3rd draft of my creative Writing piece. I’ve made many changes with the ending and have done a little find a replace for words. The problem I have with this piece is that I use the word ‘we’ too much. I also want to know if my sentences are choppy or not. Thank you.