Preface

When I was stationed in The Former Yugoslavia it was hard to believe that we were expected to follow rules that would surely kill us. It was impossible to avoid contemplating the numerous negative possibilities that awaited my platoon. However, I was straight out of basic training, so I didnt question orders.

I have to admit those were the longest six months of my life, and over ten years later, I still think about it. When the war in Iraq began, I couldnt help but reflect on the missions I completed. After months of deliberation, I decided to create a fictional story about what could have happened if certain situations presented themselves. The characters, the United Nations proclamations, and the everyday life are real, but the rest of the story is only a hypothetical.

Some may feel that I am writing this book because Im anti-American. Actually, the opposite is true. All soldiers sign the line knowing full well they may die in another country, but there is no reason for American soldiers to die because of the possibility of political backlash. I can only hope that this book can bring attention to an unwarranted way of bringing peace to the world.

Chapter 1

What the hell is wrong with his ass? Sergeant Padilla asked Asay, the new medic from Bravo Company.

I think hes got a heart murmur. Its beating irregularly. We need to get him out of here and to a hospital. Sergeant Padilla looked down at Lord with a look of animosity. He definitely didnt need a situation like this to blow up in his face. This was his first time running an entire platoon. Since Sergeant Hillin couldnt come on this field problem, he was the next in line to take over the duties. At twenty-seven years, he was one of the youngest platoon sergeants in the history of Charlie Company. If he did well here, who knows, maybe hed get promoted soon. He had already completed the proper schools and proven himself for the last few years to show he was plenty capable.

Screw it. If were out here in the cold, so is he. Sergeant Padilla turned around and grabbed Corporal Osen, a former team leader, but now the new squad leader of weapons squad since Sergeant Padilla was promoted. Osen, get over here, Sergeant Padilla whispered loudly. Osen got up from his position and quickly jostled over to Sergeant Padilla. Osen was also nervous about the field problem. He had never run a squad in the past. Actually, he was more of an intellectual than a hard-nosed physical infantryman. He was only in the Army to get them to pay for medical school. He graduated pre-med from some University in Minnesota and ran out of money to continue his education. Nobody was sure how he would finagle a medical degree from the Army, but everyone figured he must have a plan. Educated men always do.

Who are those two cherries we got in a few weeks ago?

Hughs and Hertzberg sergeant, why? Osen said, looking confused.

Send those two guys up here, were going to orient them into Charlie Company. Osen went charging away into the darkness looking for the soldiers.

Private Kyle Hertzberg was lying there looking out at the darkness with the rain falling down on him. He was wondering what he did to get himself into a situation like this one. Only a few short months ago he was sitting on his couch watching The Simpsons on television and wondering what he was going to do with his life. Now hes in the mud, soaking wet, thinking about whether or not this was a big mistake. In the few short weeks since hes been in first platoon, he has been harassed, made fun of, and worked to death by any person higher ranking than himself. Luckily he came with Hughs, who isnt all that bright. Hughs has messed up so many times it draws attention away from him.

Osen approached Hughs and Hertzbergs position out of breath. Osen wasnt a great runner, which is why he spent more hours running than any other soldier in the company. He knew that was the one thing that kept him from becoming a great infantryman and didnt want to accept the fact that his body just wasnt made for running. Hertzberg, Hughs, we need you up front. Lets go, were in a hurry. They went running up to the front of the pack listening to the rest of the platoon throw out derogatory remarks about their lazy mothers and such. Kyle was taking all the hazing to heart and was showing it. He knew they would only do it more, but he wasnt used to this type of situation. The only other employment hed ever had were low paying high school jobs, but as far as he knew, hazing wasnt part of the civilian world.

Hertzberg tried to keep his mind off the hazing by thinking about the cold. He couldnt understand how it could be raining here when the sun was out in Berlin, their duty station. He was trying to figure out if he was cold because every inch of his body was covered in wetness or because the actual temperature was so low. His fingers were starting to shrivel up and peel but there were still seven more days until the unit left for home.

Hertzberg, you carry this, Sergeant Padilla barked as he threw Lords rucksack at him. And you, whats your name again?

Hughs Sergeant.