WE ARE AT WAR

God forgive us. We are at war again. I see myself on the side of a supremely steep slope on the western edge of the A Shau Valley. The raining is pouring in an opaque curtain, impenetrable to vision beyond the grasp of my hand and with an incredible pounding force. Liquid bullets. 

Through it all rains a hail of steel of opposing forces. Leaves, twigs and bark pieces, mixed with red and green tracers course through the screen. Most hissing into oblivion. Others not so. The solid distinctive impact sound of steel on flesh penetrates the liquid shroud. 

Thunk

“Medic up.”

“I’m hit”

“Jesus”

“Fuck”

My medic crawls through the maelstrom of water and lead, guiding on the sound as sight is not an option. I see the heels of his boots attempting a purchase on the oily exuding laterite, dragging his med kit behind him. One immense tattooed arm grasping its strap and the other tightly clutching his rifle as he attempts to make some forward progress up the unforgiving slope. Half swimming and half crawling, he moves into oblivion, fixated on the cries just above.

The FO, at one with the slime, presses his handset against his ear and eats the plastic bag covering the handset as he screams to be heard over the cacophony around him. He is the lifeline to salvation at this mortal moment and I lay next to him with map in one hand and rifle in the other wishing successful communication to our 105mm saviors. I hear nothing discernible over the handset through the combination of senses raining upon us.  

My eyes, both deer like and discerning, gather my thoughts. Priorities. Move toward the lead platoon. Sense the enemy. Retain calm and direction. Collect myself. Lead. Not react. Save what we can. Retrieve those we can’t. The damn rain. It is both a cover and anesthetic.  

“Pig up”

“Quick. Now.”

A shadowed figure emerges at my feet followed by another. The gun crew, eyes wide through liquid cascades inquires with eyes that need no voice. The gunner is holding the muzzle in his fist to block the mud and his assistant is pushing the butt through the slime to assist the progress.

I focus on the eyes as I am side to side prone with my FO, rain hammering on my face. Green whistles by hissing and steaming in the rain. I point through the opaque cloud of rain and cascading mud with bursts of green direction. I shout-less than two feet from his face.

“Two O’clock. Point. Go.”

The crew continues its muddy swim past me in the direction indicated, at one with the earth. 

Deep throaty rounds begin impacting to the front. The heavy clunking of the machine gun adds its distinctive sound, now clearly discernible through the aquatic fog. Together, they bring a sense of momentary comfort and focus to the maelstrom. The system works. Trust in training.

The medic swims back with a bundle of mud covered humanity. Barely visible is the now ochre covered field dressings that festoon most of the man. A darker red stain shows on the collar and neck swab. The face is clean, drenched by the pounding rain. The eyes fix on me as he slides past. 

“What happened? What now?”

Questions I cannot answer. So inadequate. Focus. I am the leader. I must lead.

Here. Now, I am transported to then. Sliding through the maelstrom of my village. I see the fixed pupils of the unaware grasping for the last of this or the new stack of that. Imagined conditions and emotions searing rational thought and concern for others.  

Some wander in undisciplined and unthinking disregard of others. Others walk in a disciplined stride with fixed purpose either avoiding or adhering to contemporary guidance.  

I see many in both responsible positions and self-chosen, to lead at some risk out of a sense of responsibility-as did the medic and the machine gunner. They have a sense of duty that combat in its several forms brings.  

We are in combat. We are on that impossibly steep muddy slope in the A Shau. Momentarily surprised. The force of the moment , overwhelming, but gathering ourselves.

Each of us, as did each of that far distant group in my mind’s eye, act according to habit, design and direction. Focus, discipline and a deep sense of collective responsibility will succeed. Failure to adhere will endow failure.

The rain will cease and the sun will shine. It did then. It can now. If we recognize that we are in a planetary A Shau and act accordingly.