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Join Date: Jun 2012
United States of America
Into Hell- The Story
I'm a very crappy author, I don't know my facts or anything really, but I have this small WIP that's based a few years into the future, like 5 or 6. I would really like some advice, or correct, just anything that will help. Criticism is welcome. It's a bit long but here it goes-
As the chopper opposite of us goes down, life almost turns into a slow-motion movie, for the incredible event of fury -fire and smoke. We keep flying, not stopping, not giving a flying fuck about our friends screaming the mayday calls. Nist and I watch, as the helicopter drops out of the air, falling just like an osprey does when it goes in for the kill. Zimmerman, on the rear-door gun is almost hanging out of the Super Stallion, trying to catch the last glimpse of his best friend?s helicopter hit the grass, creating a giant dust cloud. The radio goes silent.
Zimmerman, come here. It's alright, they're probably not even hurt, those mother fuckers were tough as hell,? Nist says, choking on the words, knowing that they are most likely dead, or in critical condition. Luckily, there were ground units nearby, who were already moving in on the downed bird. Zimmerman stares into the background, the beautiful mountains, the only beautiful thing in Afghanistan, especially after we came. Nist goes back to manning his .50 caliber GAU-21, and providing critical information on the surroundings to the pilots.
The next 15 minutes of flight were silent, except for the pilot?s chatter. As soon as we land, Zimmerman, Nist and I go to the command post.
?Sir, what happened to Lieutenant Somter and the rest of his crew?? Zimmerman asks one of the officers.
The officer looks at us with grief in his eyes. ?The ground units moved in on Somter?s bird, and secured the area. There were no survivors.? Zimmerman turns and walks away. Nist follows him, and then I follow as well. The sun starts to go down, in the most beautiful manner over the mountains.
"Cody, talk to me.Do not blame it on yourself! You may have called the RPG out, but it was too late!" Nist and Zimmerman are checking the Super Stallion out for any hydraulics problems.
"Carmen," My name, "tell him it wasn't his fault." I hesitate, seeing the anger in Zimmerman?s eyes, not wanting to piss him off anymore, I just shrug.
"Command already is having some green assholes sent up to replace Somter's crew. Fucking command, they don?t even care about our family that just got killed." I said, trying to get that other B.S. off Zimmerman's mind. "They are gonna be here by tomorrow. These guys were just waiting for the chance to get some action."
"Hope they're friggin' ready for the shit we got up here. Remember our first tour? That shit wasn't anything compared to this. We maybe got shot at fucking once a damn week. We didn't lose anybody. Anyone got a smoke?"
Zimmerman finally spoke. I handed him my pack, since I didn't smoke often, and gave him my lighter. "Those were the days. Our first flight friggin' Somter almost crashed the damn bird, and dumb ass there, Gunslinger, almost fell out of the fucking thing!" Zimmerman was now laughing. "I'm fucking hungry, and we haven't eaten all day. It's been a long ass day. I lost 4 of my best friends, and I'm standing here laughing. Hope they're having fun in hell."
I laughed, and started walking to the mess tent. I could hear Nist and Zimmerman yapping away behind about all the good times with Somter and his crew. They in fact, were the best crew I ever knew, funny as all hell. Smith, "Gunslinger's" real name, once brought an M80 firecracker on a flight. We started taking small arms fire so he lit it and dropped it out his window to try and scare the guys shooting us.
"Hey. Sorry about Somter and his crew. They were great guys, rode in their chopper a few times." Some grunt, whose name tag read Jones.
"Sergeant, they don?t need your sympathy, they fucking died laughing! I could hear Gunslinger over the damn comms. Laughing his ass off the whole time they were going down.? Zimmerman was saying. It was true; you could hear Smith laughing through the radio. That guy was a friggin' beast. It takes a lot of balls to laugh when your chopper is falling from the sky. Wait, wait. This food is shit! Remember that pizza kit your girlfriend sent you, Nist?" Nist nodded, "can we use it?"
"Why the fuck not?"
"Zimmerman, I'm gonna hit you! I just sat the fuck down!? I said to him, ?you?re a retard, you know that??
"She's a feisty one, eh Nist" Fucking classic Zimmerman. Always a retard. I waste fucking five more minutes walking to the fire pit. The fire is started, but no one has gotten the pizza ready. Zimmerman is staring into the fire, Nist is looking at his Facebook page, and '?m thinking about the replacements.
"Man. I want to get outta this shithole. I've see so much crap here, I don't think I'll ever forget some of it. The first thing I'm doing when I get home is to go places all over the states with my wife. What about you guys?" Zimmerman said, still staring into the flame.
"I'm gonna propose to my girlfriend," Nist said, he had been going out with that girl since I met him in basic. "What about you, Carmen?"
"Well, same as you."
"Is that legal in New York?"
"It is as of last month," I said happily. It was a good thing too, when the state government approved of it. "Those friggin' protesters were close to getting their way, though."
"You know, you're the only homosexual person I have ever been friends with. I was totally against it until I met you." Zimmerman blurted out. Being from California, I would have thought he would have a lot of gay or lesbian friends, but apparently I was mistaken.
"My mom taught me to accept everyone. It's like the family rule." Nist, being from the south, knew all the good values. "I'm going to hit the sack. We probably have a shit-ton of flights tomorrow, and we gotta deal with the new guys."
"Me too," I say. I start to walk away, but stop. Zimmerman is still there.
"Zimmerman, you going?"
"No. I need some time alone." I could see tears running down his cheeks. Seems like the shock of his friends being dead has finally set in. As I walk to my tent, I think about all the good times I had with that crew. I didn't know them as good as Zimmerman did, but I served with them for one and a half years. I smile, thinking about the time with the M80 during a flight. As I smile, a tear rolls down my cheek.
"This is gonna be so badass! Do you guys take fire a lot?" One of the new crew chiefs whose name tag read "Johnson". Zimmerman, Nist, and I just look at the 5 of them, the others not talking. They had arrived an hour ago. They had checked over their Stallion in about five minutes. That was too fast. I had a bad feeling about these guys, and so did Nist, from what he told me.
?We have a flight in one hour. There?s a possibility of heavy fire. After we drop the grunts off, we have to drop supplies to F.O.B Baker. Go check over the bird.? Cansto, our pilot, also HMH-257's flight leader, said to us. "You guys too," he looked at the new guys, shrugged, and walked away. I was worried about them too, because they were young. I did not like these guys at all.
"Hay's, you single? I ask 'Cause you're pretty cute. I'm single." Johnson said, winking. We were walking to the staging area.
"Brother, she's taken, by another girl." Nist replied, winking back.
"Is that true?" Johnson asked me.
"Yeah, I'm hopefully gonna marry her when I get back to the states."
"Damn," he looked disappointed. He wasn't the first to ask either.
"Nist, did you forget to get more CLP?" Damn Nist, forgets shit all the time. CLP is lubricant for the GAU-21?s. If our guns got too hot and jammed, we'd be screwed without it. Luckily, the new guys brought 2 cans of it.
"Cintas, give us some CLP, please. Nist forgot ours," I ask Cintas, the rear door gunner on the new bird. He was a little guy, Hispanic. He was sort of shy too.
"Ok. HMH-257 has a little tradition. After you fire your first 200 round burst, you will grab the hot barrel with your bare hand. We all did it. It hurts like a mother fucker, but you will then, be considered part of HMH-257." Zimmerman tells them, showing the scar on his palm. I did it, though I almost passed out from pain.
"Our bird is ready. What about yours?" Nist asked the new guys. They looked at him; then scrambled to their chopper to inspect it. "These guys are retards," Nist whispers in my ear. I shrug, and walk to the bird. Nist follows, I lean against the inside wall, Nist sits on a box of ammunition. He looks at me, and shakes his head. I knew what he was thinking. We were about to go through a living hell. The grunts we were flying in were going to a place we liked to call RPG alley. It's about a mile away from where Somter's chopper went down. Our birds could take one RPG, but only on the bottom, or on the side. Somter's chopper was hit directly in the rotors, disabling the engine, and destroying all of his rotor blades.
"Probably taking his pregame piss," I answer, smiling. "Hey, Kayla's birthday is tomorrow! I just remembered. Maybe the three of us can get access to a webcam, and talk to her." Kayla was my girlfriend. Four years we had been together, and two deployments.
"Yeah? Maybe," Nist says, lighting a cigarette. "This flight should be fun if we don't get shot at, a nice welcoming flight for the new guys. Wait. Maybe a little small arms fire would be nice, get them a chance to test their combat readiness."
"Getting shot at is always fun," I say, smiling.
Zimmerman walks into the chopper, laughing.
"One of the new guys zipped his dick into his fucking flight suit!"
"Jesus Christ," Nist smiles. This was gonna be one interesting flight.
I set my M16 next to my ruck. We were required to carry them in case we had to make an emergency landing. I've never used it, and I hope that I don't ever have to.
Today was going to be a pretty easy day. We would pick up some grunts, and then drop them off in some mountains. After the drop, we would bring supplies back to them. We had to make two trips because both choppers would be full with two platoons. Each trip back and forth would take around an hour, so we were going to be up for a good 2-3 hours.
"Zimmerman, you mind if I work the ramp today?" I ask Zimmerman.
"Sure, I'm sick of that damn rear door anyway." Working the ramp is fun as hell sometimes. It has the best view of the whole chopper, and you have the most freedom when firing the GAU-21s.
There are probably many mistakes.
Last edited by Scriptor; 06-26-2012 at 01:13 AM..
|06-26-2012, 01:43 PM||#2|
Join Date: Dec 2009
United States of America
Re: Into Hell- The Story
read the beggining a little and couldn't continue
this story just doesnt seem to flow and word choice could be better
also I have a hard time picturing the story in my head but maybe its just me
sorry if I am too harsh but I am in the military and like military books and I have a hard time getting into this
Last edited by [R-COM]rushn; 06-26-2012 at 10:35 PM..
|06-26-2012, 10:24 PM||#3|
Join Date: Jun 2012
United States of America
Re: Into Hell- The Story