
Originally Posted by
Chris, VCB
Pull up a sandbag. Swing the lantern.
It was 14:20 on a hot, dusty afternoon. We were kitted up and ready to go - we didn't know much about what we were about to get into, but we knew it would be trouble. A local official was in danger, and we were to find him and protect him, till a transport chopper could arrive and remove him from the area, and far out of the Muji's reach. As we patrolled out of the FOB, we split into a long staggered column as we headed south down the road. A few minutes in, I checked my Compass, and realised we were infact heading the wrong direction. I hit my radio prestle, and made it known, but Dark squarked back that I was barely audible. Shit, I'd forgot to adjust the power. Whilst I fiddled with my power settings, Dave P ran forward to pass the message on manually. By the time i'd adjusted my radio, the message had already reached the front of the column. I got my section into a quick peel, and we started jogging towards town, desperate to make up for the 5 minutes we'd lost patrolling the wrong way. 200 meters out, I collapsed all of a sudden, my lungs bursting, exhausted by the 60kg load of spare link, claymores, grenades and rifle ammo i'd stuffed into my pack. "Go on without me!" I croaked, mindful that we had to make it to the compound. I looked around and saw, to my horror, that the rest of my section were having a fat attack, just like me. We took a moment to recover, then patrolled slowly forward, taking up positions within the compound.
The immediate area was secure. I called in my section, and we pooled the spare kit. I'd just finished detailing off sentry posts, when a strange foreign accent piped up excitedly. It was Konrad, 1 sections eagle eyed rifleman; he was brilliant at spotting the enemy, just not so good at communicating where he'd seen them, but we rushed into positions, ready to take on the enemy that we knew was somewhere north. Suddenly, a Muji darted out across the track that crossed the hills to our north. Fire poured in, puffs of dirt being kicked up at hit feet as he scrambled over the crest of the hill and into cover. I shouted for 3 guys to assemble on me at the platoon ammo point. Lee, Dave P, and Noaksey answered the call, and we quickly checked out weapons as I told Nickeleye, my 2IC, "I'm taking out a fighting patrol, we're going to pressure these fuckers - take over here". I was pumped and ready for war. We were going to fuck some serious shit up. As we got to the base of the track, more Mujis darted out. We hit the deck, hard, and poured fire up after them. They scrambled to the lip of the ridge , and disappeared from view. I shouted down the radio for our machinegunners to get some fire up that track, and we bounded forward in pairs, covering forward, always expecting the enemy to be waiting in ambush. We reached the point where we'd last seen them. Nothing. No blood, no bodies. But we knew they'd gone this direction.
We set off in chase, patrolling slowly and carefully, rifles up. We crawled up to the main ridgeline and gingerly poked our heads over the top. Nothing shot them off. Clear. Suddenly, far below was the sound of an explosion against the compound wall. The assault had begun. We quickly scanned the opposite hills for the telltale smoke puff of an RPG launch, but saw nothing. We pressed on, and machinegun fire suddenly opened up, tracer whizzing back and forth back down in the valley. Things were getting underway. East of us, somewhere, were the enemy, by the sounds of it. We decided to double back, hoping to come up behind the enemy. As we turned, a muji ran out, no more than 50m behind us. He dropped to one knee and froze, looking directly at us. "CONTACT!" I screamed, and dropped down, blatting off rounds. All around me, the lads fanned out, going prone and giving the lone muji the good news. He dropped, and we pushed up aggressively, convinced he'd have friends. Nothing. He was alone. We checked his body, and hoped he'd not had time to warn anyone. Our flanking manouver on the machinegun team we could hear east of us depended on it; they'd tear us up if they'd caught us on these open hills.
I scanned the ground ahead of us, seeing nothing, as Dave picked us a route along the ridge. Suddenly, as myself and Dave crossed a ridge, Lee called out from behind us, "sighting!". We crouched low, and ran back into cover with Lee and Noaksey. Crawling forward on our bellies in extended line, we moved back onto the lip of the ridge. Across from us was a rocky outcrop, and lying down the side of the rocks, we could see a lone Muji, armed with a PKM. I did a quick range estimation. 500 meters, more or less. We could do him from here, but his PKM gave him the advantage at range. What if we missed our first rounds, and he got into cover? Damn it. I knew from the Radio the compound was taking a hammering, and we had to silence those guns, fast. We crawled back off the ridge, and continued moving round at a crouched run. Tracer was still whizzing up and down the valley, as the sound of Machine Guns got ever closer. We moved down off the ridge, into deadground, no more than 200m from the enemy position. By this point, nobody dared touch thier radio. In whispered voices, the message was passed out; "they're just over this ridge". Creeping up, we dressed out into extended line, and crested the ridge infront of us. There, lying by the rocks, was the lone machinegunner. Only, to his left was another two mujis - we'd caught them off guard, and we were just about in handgrenade range. This was only going to end one way. I overarm lobbed two pineapples in quick succession, seeing them land satisfyingly close, as Lee, Dave and Noakesy started putting down fire with their SLRs. The Machinegunner and his spotter went down, and the 3rd Muji darted into cover. We pressed up aggressively, bounding forward and keeping the weight of fire up. A muji popped his head out from behind the rocks, promptly getting it shot off. We moved in, checking the bodies as we went. Position clear - 3 enemy dead, no casualties. The blood was pumping, the enemy hadn't seen us coming, and we'd caught them completely off-guard. Dave or Lee thought there was a runner, but we couldn't find him, and i'd only seen 3. I hauled a dead body over my shoulders. This fucker was coming back with me. Spoils of war.
As we trudged down the hill back towards our compounds, me with my trophy on my shoulders, Dave shouted out for a contact on the road to our left. I dropped down, flinging the body off my shoulders, as we all opened fire. Running down the road was the Muji we'd seen dart into cover - Lee and Dave where right, there was a runner! He crumpled into the dirt as he was cut in half by rifle fire. We moved up cautiously, thinking he might have friends behind him. Nothing. Dave checked the body - he was miraculously still alive, but before I could yell for us to capture him, a single rifle shot rang out, putting the Muji out of his misery. We carried on patrolling forward, when I spotted movement on the ridge above. Damn it. I really wanted my trophy, but I couldn't take him with me, not with these fuckers on the ridge above us. They'd pay for forcing me to leave my trophy kill behind, but fuck it, I knew i'd get another. We darted from rock to rock, with Ul joining our number from the Patrol Base. The five of us crawled up to the ridge on our belt buckles, finding ourselves a position 200m from the enemy. I gave the command. "Get some rounds down!". Our bullets landed in and amongst the enemy position, rock splintering and flying off in shards. The enemy dived for cover, and returned fire. There were at least 4, if not 5 of them in there, but with the element of surprise, we overwhelmed them with weight of fire - with the enemy suppressed, we moved up, lobbing in grenades as we went. We stormed the position, a red mist descending over my eyes. Before we knew it, we were in the middle of the position, surrounded by dead enemies.
But, it was too late. The radio squawked. It was Nikeleye, my 2IC. An RPG had taken out the building the VIP was sheltering in. He was dead - shit. Collecting our wounded, we retreated, leaving the dead where they lay. The Muji's would keep coming at us all night, and we'd no reason to put ourselves in harms way any longer.