Not your average story.

     My name is Ryder,and as I awoke to the sound of gunfire, it didn't scare me.  That is because I'm used to doing this.  Usually the police are unaware of these, but everyone else is.  As I slowly roused myself from my deep sleep, I thought that this day would not be wasted.  You see, today would be my last day in country as I had just recently completed boot camp and I was eager to get into combat.  But an old Vietnam era lieutenant told me that,
     "When you're not in combat, you want to get some of it.  But when you finally get into it, you wonder why you're there and want out."  I didn't think that this advice would actually apply to me, but that wasn't the only thing I would be wrong about today...
      Being on the heated plane was a pleasure that I would  have only for the short trip to get to out stop in Italy, then I would get off this civilian plane and take a C-130 Hercules transport the rest of the way into that no-man's land.  On this trip, the thoughts ranged from, "Did I leave the stove on?" to,"What will happen when I get there?"  But my one reoccurring thought as I drifted off to sleep was about my past experiences like boot camp, growing up, and running away from the orphanage at age 9.
     I was born with luck not on my side, although that curse is fading away, it already took it's toll on my life.  I lost both of my parents as a baby, but living in our part of town, that was only to be expected.  My dad was an ex- Marine who served in Vietnam.  My mom was a nurse serving in the field at the time (that is how they met).  I never really knew my parents that well, but from what I can tell, they were great people.  As I grew up on the streets, I found that I was light with my fingers and could pickpocket just about anyone.  I wasn't  into the "purse snatching" (pretty much ripping the purse off some one's arm) business, as to the art of pickpocketing (lightly reaching into the purse and taking wallets, cell phones, loose change, anything of value).  They said it was a "car crash" that killed them, but I have never heard of an undented car with bullet holes being considered as a car crash.  When I was 7, the orphanage took me in.  I do, to this day, believe that this was the worst time of my life and that I should have run away sooner.  Living on the street was tough, but it was a lot better than being stuck in the orphanage.  Living on the streets taught me to "steal or die".  Where I was, gunshots in the distance was like the rooster crowing on the farmland.  It meant "morning".  Crime ruled everything.  If you wanted something, you stole it.  The money I got to afford my house was from the stolen goods and pickpocketed wallets that I had.  And let me tell you, selling T.V.'s is a great idea.  Almost better than a Ponzi Scheme. As I grew up, I decided to take the Army up on it's offer of, "Be all you can be".
     The sound of gunfire stirred me in my sleep.  Piecing together my memories, I finally remembered where I was.  Since I was on my third "tour", I snapped out of my trance and reached for my weapon, which wasn't there.  I sat up to try to look out the window, but the plane jolted and sent me flying back into the sacks of food I was sleeping on.  As I sat back up, I realized that we had landed and that I was to report to my C.O. (commanding officer) and get my equipment together because I would be part of a larger assault force that was going in on the 16 Black Hawk assault.  As usual, my rank of Captain would render me on the lead chopper.  As I stepped out out the plane, I felt the sudden climate change from coolly air conditioned, to hot, muggy, and dry climate that Africa has.  As I walked toward the small command building that I would get my gear from, I saw that there was panic and a lot of scurrying around.  Naturally I wondered what was happening.  Apparently, I was just in time for the mission that I would be participating in.  As I got closer to the command building, I heard a lot of commotion and mumbling.  "...trying to get them out...sending in a few of those Israeli tanks might help..." As I heard these words, they only confused me even more.  I didn't know it now but it was going to be a long day.
     As I headed toward the lead Black Hawk, only two thoughts were going through my mind, "I don't think I grabbed enough ammo and grenades" and words from the song "Up All Night" by Drake, " 'Cause I don't really know who imma lose this year...".  As I drew nearer to the lead chopper, I smelled something very strong, possibly oil from the engines that were starting to go.  Climbing into the Black Hawk, I realized that we could fit more men into the bird.  It felt strange having so much empty space.  Everyone was checking and double checking that their guns were working properly.  As we started to take off, I took one last look at my team and the base, and just like that, we started our long journey into the city of Mogadishu. 

    Sgt. Gonzalez

     Doing this no longer feels like I'm doing it consciously,  It is all happening naturally.  It's like a routine except that if you do it wrong, you might die.  Being a team like we are, we can't be stopped.  Everything we do is to help everyone get out alive.  Capt. Ryder is, by far, the bravest Captain that the Army has got to offer.  We are like a tight knit family.  No amount of enemy fire will shake us.  Although we've been flying for approximately 15 min. now and although no S.A.M.s (Surface to Air Missiles) or RPGs (Rocket Propelled Grenades) have been shot at us yet, we know that we are still in danger.  Wait...

     "Did you guys feel that?" I ask. 

     "Gonzalez, sometimes I think that you are losing your mind.  The Asylum always has room for another crazy." 

     Everyone laughs at me. 

     " Ha ha ha guys," I retort sarcastically, "but seriously, why are we going down so early, the LZ (landing zone) is another couple miles from here?" 

     The feeling of dread begins to grow as I hear the pilots radios picking up all kinds of transmissions.            

     "Hunter Six Eight, this is Bravo Two Nine. You just took an RPG shot outta some 2nd story window.  Hit ya right in the tail rotor, there is black smoke comin outta it now.  Recommend that you turn around now." 

Now we are really going down fast.  Our pilot "Shakes" (after his tendency to shake the Black Hawk to get the new guys sliding down the ropes faster) and co- pilot Arthur "Remmy" (nicknamed after the Remington shotgun he keeps at his side "In case of emergency's".) were all tied up in the radio and trying to reassert control in the cabin. 

     "Hunter Six Eight, this is Uniform Two Three, we have a visual on you and you don't look too good from the ground either, recommend you set down somewhere and soon" 

Shakes replied,

     "Over there doesn't seem to be any problem with the-" Then the helicopter started spinning madly like a possessed washing machine.  We were all being thrown around like toy soldiers.  The last transmission came out when we were just above the rooftops.  "Hunter Six Eight going down."  Then Capt. Ryder shouted "JUMP!" loud enough so that anyone paying attention would do just so.  Although jumping out of the Black Hawk seemed like a pretty good idea at the time, we were still 6 or so stories above the ground and the main rotor was still spinning.  Thankfully, Shakes leveled the chopper so we could jump out without being chopped up something inside the Slap Chop.  Unfortunately, that meant that Shakes and Remmy were still inside.  As I flew through the air, bullets flew everywhere, smoke filled the air around us which was suffocating us, and we were still 6 or so stories above the ground.

     Capt. Ryder

As soon as we hit the rooftop, we felt the ground shake and a ball of orange flame shot out of the alley where the chopper went in.  The building started to crumble, so we kept moving, jumping from building to building, shooting everything.  My 16 man team was breaking down fast, we were down to 7.  3 hadn'e jumped, 2 hadn't cleared the Black Hawk and hit the side of the building, and 4 had been shot.  We had casualties so I had my RTO ( Radio Transmissions Officer), a Recon Sergent named Gonzalez, call in some support and a ride out.  He got the support.
     "Star Seven Six, this is Alpha One Nine Ground, need support ASAP"
     "Roger Alpha, moving to you."
     "Alpha Two One actual, this is Alpha One Nine ground, we have a bird down and it's crew needs exfil."
     "Roger One Nine, exfil inbound."  Then the RPGs hit and we were all thrown around.  The RTO was hanging over the side and two more were injured, then a second... and a third and we had 3 more casualties.  Down to a 4 man team of me, Specialist Smith, Pvt. Ross, Pvt. Jameson, and Cpl. Remmy (who I had assumed was still in the chopper at the time it went down).  We jumped through the holes in the roof just as another hit.  We ran to street level and saw a "technical" (a truck with a .50 caliber machine gun attached to the back) and knew how we were getting out of here. 
     Blazing down the streets, shooting anything that moved, it never crossed out minds we had no idea where we were going (or where we were for that matter).  We just thought "out".  An RPG zoomed alongside us, then passed in front of us, then exploded.  Then another from above, which hit near behind.  Then, out of an alley, one hit the truck and flipped it over several times and landed it on it's side.  With the base just in sight, we ran... and got pinned down.  Then, the Little Bird we called for earlier came to our rescue.  Firing everything it had, it gave us  time to run through the barbed wire fence and get inside the base.  Unfortunately, we did all of that for nothing because we didn't even make it to the battlefield.  "Better luck next time guys." comments the General.
     Now my 3rd tour is over, and guess what.  I'm going back next year.

2nd time 1st paragraph

As I awoke to the sound of gunfire, it didn't scare me.  That is because I'm used to doing this.  Usually the police are unaware of these, but everyone else is.  As I slowly roused myself from my deep sleep, I thought that this day would not be wasted.  You see, today would be my last day in country as I had just recently completed boot camp and I was eager to get into combat.  But an old Vietnam era lieutenant told me that, "When you're not in combat, you want to get some of it.  But when you finally get into it, you wonder why you're there and want out."  I didn't think that this advice would actually apply to me, but that wasn't the only thing I would be wrong about today...