The Storm

will walk our flanks. I’m right and Thompson left. Stay fifteen yards apart from each group and stay in formation, moving forward on my signal. If there are trails, don’t follow them, Gunny, because they might be booby-trapped.'" "The clouds had now dissipated, and the moon partially illuminated the jungle floor for our advancement. Henry continued, 'Slow in, quick out, and be at the rendezvous point as quickly as possible. Gunny, you’ll be trigger m an, so be careful with that magic trigger finger of yours. Okay. You guys ready? Questions?' 'None Sir,' they answered in unison. 'Move out. Gunny, take the lead. You men take your positions.' Gunny then laughed at the mention of his always being, somehow, the mission's running point man. 'Yeah, I thought you liked me Captain!' Gunny said to Henry. 'No, the truth is, I liked me. I trusted your dogged instincts and ability to trail and track. Must have been the Apache blood in you.' 'I should have scalped you in Vietnam,' Gunny responded, and laughed." As a true journalist, I was still stuck in my mind on the story and didn’t even sense the humor in any of it. “Go on, Henry. What happened next?” I blurted out. Henry went on. “Well, twenty -five miles seemed to take forever, even with our heightened senses. But then, without any warning, Gunny raised his right hand with a clenched fist to halt our advancement. I made my way up from the right flank to see why Gunny had stopped. "'We’re here,' Gunny said, 'Look' . I peered through the jungle underbrush and saw the distant light of a two-story facility. 'Sit tight, Gunny,' I said, and motioned the team to quietly advance to the forward position. I ordered them to fan

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