The Storm

"Henry’s guys were that good but, sad to say, not this time. Henry had apparently zigzagged his way through the jungle and apparently shook off his attackers and called in his coordinates for extraction in desperation. We had no idea how far the VC were from Henry’s position, and our orders were to extract the survivin' team, if possible, and kill them, if necessary, if capture was inevitable and no extraction were possible. Their capture was not acceptable. Get them out or take them out." "With those coordinates, we knew his position and were ready to do the job before they were captured by the Vietcong, to keep the suits in DC happy and Uncle Sam smilin'. Zach, there is a reason there is red on the flag,” Gunny said. “War is a bloody business, and if you play you sometimes pay. Henry knew this. His team knew this, and I and my team knew this. We woul d have to sacrifice what was left of Henry’s team to save American's face and 20 other dug-in men in the other groups. The VC were hot on Henry’s team's tail. Henry knew this! Do you get it, Son? Airlift 'em up or take 'em out!” I still couldn't wrap my h ead around this, but I wasn’t a soldier either. There must be something put into a soldier during their training, the kind of training that adjusts their thinking to this mindset for the greater good of others, and humanity itself, or something. Was it something that I would never know and understand, or was it that I was so selfish in my life, that I just didn’t get it? I never had to sacrifice anything, other than having to toss a half-eaten submarine sandwich and drink into the trash so that I wouldn’t m iss a flight. I was feeling less significant all the while as the story continued.

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