299 Days VIII: The War (21 page)

The closer they got to launching, the food changed. They’d been eating well lately
because they were getting rid of the hard-to-cook foods. Now, as they were close to
shipping out, the meals got simpler. Food and supplies were getting packed up and
the KP crews who cleaned up after a cooked meal were needed for unit-wide movements
and to attend briefings. This meant less cooked food and more cold food, which was
okay. They could handle it. Besides, they might as well get used to eating whatever
they could find. The battlefield was not known for fine dining.

Ted and Sap felt good that the unit was ready. They knew the details of what a unit
needed to know. They had trained lots of irregular troops before.

New Year’s Eve, the day before the mission, was a rest day. The troops got to relax.
They were encouraged to sleep during the day since they’d be up that night, as well
as the next, and the next, and for who knows how long. Grant expected them to be too
nervous to rest. He was wrong, though. All the work they’d put in over the past few
days, mental and physical, wore everyone out. And they were now used to napping, so
they slept well that day.

They were roused at 5:00 p.m. on New Year’s Eve. They had a good dinner; better than
the previous few days. The big treat was coffee. All the coffee they wanted. That
had never happened before. Franny wouldn’t have any coffee makers or a place to make
coffee in the next few days, so he figured he might as well use it all up.

Grant and Ted wanted them all jacked up on caffeine to psych them up, and to keep
them up for the next thirty-six to forty-eight hours.

They only had three little coffee makers and about a hundred coffee drinkers. “You
ever tried to make coffee for a hundred guys?” Franny asked when Ted inquired about
how to make all the coffee. Franny started in the afternoon with the little coffee
makers and put each pot into a few big ice coolers with a spigot at the bottom to
let melting ice water out. It worked fine. By dinner time, everyone was jacked up
on coffee. Of course, those ice coolers would forever smell like coffee, but that
was less important than the troops being tired.

Pastor Pete was there, as he would be moving out with the unit. He gave a very short
prayer before dinner.

“Remember,” he told the unit, “you have to account for your life. Just remember that.
You will spend eternity stuck with what you did down here. If you intentionally kill
innocents, you’ll live with that forever. If you make an honest mistake, it will be
an honest mistake. If you risk yourself for your unit mates, you’ll be remembered
forever for that.”

Pastor Pete paused. “Think of this way,” he said. “Everything you’re about to do will
be recorded like a movie. You, and everyone else, will be able to view it for a million
years. Remember: you’re on camera. Act accordingly.”

That was it. Short, free of Bible quotes and verses, and completely non-denominational.
Yet profound.

Grant was the next to speak. He, too, would keep it short and hopefully profound.

“Remember when you got here?” Grant asked. “Remember what you knew: just about nothing.
Now look at you. Myers,” Grant said pointing to one of the soldiers.

“What is the rally point for mile marker twelve?” Grant asked.

“KOA camp ground,” Myers said without thinking.

“See,” Grant said. “You guys are ready. Very ready. You know why you’re doing this;
we’ve talked about that a thousand times. Now it’s time to go do it. I trust each
and every one of you with my life.”

Grant was not qualified to give the next speech, so he had the person who was give
it. He had worked this out in advance.

“Sgt. Malloy has some thoughts for you,” Grant said, as Ted stood up. Ted nodded to
Grant to thank him for giving him the floor.

“You’ll be scared,” Ted said. “And you should be. You’re doing something extremely
important and your unit mates are counting on you. You want to do this right. You’ll
go through a lot of emotions out there. But that’s normal. I’ve been there. Several
times.” He looked over at Sap who nodded.

“When you have emotions you haven’t had before, realize that’s because you haven’t
done this before,” Ted said. “Your emotions are normal in this situation, it’s just
not normal for you to actually be in this situation. That’s all. Don’t think you’re
weird when weird things start to happen. Just accept it and keep your mind on doing
your job.”

Ted looked around the room to make eye contact with every single person. “You will
be scared. But you will be surprised how instinctually your training takes over. You
will just do the right thing and not even know it. It’s weird, but a lifesaver. It’s
what we’ve been doing for months out here. You’ll see why we did what we did out here
when you’re out there.”

“Some of you,” Ted said, “will have to kill people. Do it. You’ll know when you need
to. It’s usually when someone is trying to kill you. There is something about someone
trying to kill you that will clarify your thinking. It makes decision making very
easy. In fact, you won’t even know you’re making decisions. You’ll just be doing what
you trained to do without even thinking. Trust me. You will just do it. That’s normal.”

“What happens,” Ted asked, “if you stop to have a debate with yourself and spend a
few seconds trying to decide if each person trying to kill you deserves to die? Well,
two things happen. One is bad and the other is worse. The first thing is that you’re
dead. That’s bad. But what’s worse is that your unit mates will probably also get
killed. You see, it’s not just you out there. It’s all of us. We work together as
one. So if you decide to choke, you’re choking the rest of us. So forget about yourself
and do the right thing for all of us. You’ll see what I mean when this is over.

And one final thought.” Ted then became very serious.

“Like Lt. Matson, I trust each and every one of you with my life. There is no higher
honor I can bestow on you. Odds are one of you will probably save my life in the next
few days. Thank you in advance.” Ted pointed at Sap, which was Sap’s signal to get
things going. “Okay, ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to gear up. Strap it on and report
to your squad leader back here. Let’s go fix things.”

A cheer went up. Grant couldn’t resist the opportunity to fire them up even more.
He yelled, “How the hell are you?”

“Out-fucking-standing!” they yelled back in unison. Even Pastor Pete.

Grant was already in his kit with his rifle. He was ready to go. So was the Team.
They huddled together with the rest of the HQ/Team squad. The Team had done this before—well,
not this exact same thing, but they’d geared up to go into a fight numerous times.
This was no big deal they kept telling themselves, but they were scared. And hiding
it well.

So was Grant. He wasn’t scared to die because he knew he’d be going to heaven. But
he was scared about being captured and tortured. Thinking about what the Limas would
do to him was terrifying; he planned on shooting himself with his little Ruger LCP
.380 auto pistol he kept in his pocket before they could get to him. He wasn’t sure
if he would have the courage to shoot himself, but at least he’d have a pistol to
point at an enemy soldier and then the enemy could shoot him.

He was also scared about being maimed, especially being paralyzed. He was really scared
about the mental aftershocks of combat. He knew he’d be changed after this. He thought
about what happened to Sniper Mike, who still had the feeling he was being watched
by enemy snipers, even though he knew it wasn’t true. Grant knew he would have nightmares
and sleeplessness, at a bare minimum. There was no way to go into combat and have
things work out well. There would be some damage; the only question was how much.

Off in the distance, Grant heard Smithson start up the diesel semi and get it idling.
This was really going to happen. The sound of the diesel engine suddenly made this
very, very real. A wave of excitement and fear swelled up in Grant.

Grant, Ted, and Sap oversaw the gathering of the squads and made sure they had all
their gear. The squads assembled in the pre-arranged order and headed out to the semi.

The other vehicles were parked in the order they would be in during the convoy. The
first vehicle was the scout car. They had made a last-minute change from the original
plan, which had been to have Mark’s truck with the Team in the lead, but then an opportunity
presented itself. They got a car. And they had a former Army scout in the unit. So
the first vehicle would be a nondescript car with three men, one of whom was the scout,
the other two were experienced infantrymen. They had a radio and would probe ahead
and radio in any threats. Their car ran on gasoline, unfortunately, and they only
had a few gas cans for it. Oh well. The car wouldn’t use that much gas and it wasn’t
too far to Olympia. They could always ditch the car if they ran out of gas and have
the scout ride in Mark’s truck.

The second vehicle was Mark’s black Chevy truck with the extended cab. It was a diesel
and held the Team. Bobby would drive and Scotty would be up front on the radio. Pow
and Grant would be in the rear seats. Ryan and Wes drew the short straws and would
be in the back of the truck with a tarp over them. The tarp could be thrown off and
those two could get into the fight quickly, if they had to. That way, the truck wouldn’t
have a bunch of well-armed men visible in the back, which would draw far too much
attention. The tarp was also nice if it rained, which it probably would, given the
time of year.

The third vehicle was the semi, which Smithson drove. Jim Q. and Ted were in the cab
with him. With communications from Jim Q., Ted could lead the unit if the Team’s truck
was hit and Grant was out of the fight. Not that Grant would actually be leading the
fight, but he was the lieutenant.

Most of the soldiers were in the back of the semi. Those who might have to get in
and out frequently, like those who would be fighting a lot, were packed by the trailer
door. The further up front a person was, the less elite he or she was. The Chairborne
squad was at the very front of the truck.

The fourth vehicle was the chase truck. It got that name because it was originally
planned to be the last vehicle. The chase truck was Rich’s green Ford diesel pickup.
It, too, had an extended cab and was driven by one of the former Pierce Point guards
who was now in the unit. He was actually Rich’s neighbor and had promised him that
he’d take good care of his truck. There were a bunch of supplies and two men under
a tarp in the back of the chase truck. There were two people in the rear cab who would
likely get in and out often: Nick, the medic, and Donnie Tailorman, the sniper.

Donnie was a Pierce Point civilian. He wasn’t a sniper in the sense of sneaking into
enemy territory for days and taking a shot. He was just a really good shot with a
really good rifle. He was more aptly called a “marksman.”

Donnie, who was in his mid-fifties and in spectacular shape, was one of the Pierce
Point guards poached by the 17th. He was a plumber by trade and really helped with
getting the farm up and running, but his passion in life, and the reason he was in
the 17th, was that he was an amazing hunter. He loved to go to Idaho and Montana and
hunt elk at long ranges. He had a 300 Win. Mag. with a powerful scope. He could hit
man-sized targets out to eight hundred yards. He wasn’t a military-grade sniper, but
damned close and an extremely good guy to have around.

At the last minute, they added two utility vehicles in the rear, which hadn’t been
part of the original plan until Sap asked at one meeting how they would move their
wounded and dead. No one had an answer. There was no room in any other vehicle. They
also needed to have some miscellaneous hauling capability.

The call went out in camp for vehicles. One of the poached Pierce Point guards came
forward and volunteered his pickup. A second guard volunteered his car.

There were two problems with the utility vehicles, neither of which was insurmountable.
The first problem was that neither one ran on diesel. “Gotta play the hand you’re
dealt,” Ted would say, stealing the line Grant always used. It was better to have
two utility vehicles than none, even if they ran on gasoline. The worst case scenario
was to abandon them if they ran out of gas.

The second problem was that using these vehicles, which were kept in Pierce Point,
meant that the owners would have to explain where they went. Luckily, both guards
were single, so they didn’t have to explain to wives or girlfriends where they’d been
for the past few months, why they needed their vehicles (when no one had gas), and
where they would be going for the next few days, weeks, or months. Thank God for single
guys.

The utility truck and utility car were manned by the Pierce Point guard who owned
each one and a second man who provided security. It was important for these two rear-echelon
vehicles, both of which could easily get cut off from the main convoy, to be driven
by local Pierce Point guys who knew how to get around the territory from there to
Olympia. Getting lost could get you, and others, killed.

The utility truck and utility car each had a hand-held CB, but that was it. The 17th
was short on secure intra-unit radios from Boston Harbor and the squad leaders needed
those. The CB-only comms in the utility truck and car meant that Jim Q. would need
to remember to send out messages separately to them on the CB. This was not ideal,
but nothing about this situation was ideal. It was a war; a ragtag and low-tech war.
They were just damned happy to have troops, weapons, and food. Radios were a luxury.