Post by Estelle Tambling on Jun 8, 2016 21:21:29 GMT -5
For Given Values of Happy - Somewhere in Yemen, 1400 Zulu
The nature of rescue missions, assuming they were successful, have a bit of a tendency to bring back more people than what you have sent out. And when you put together a rescue mission on an extremely short notice (we didn't have the luxury of a QRF at this time), that detail might slip through the cracks. And that's how I ended up having to ride shotgun in an old Toyota pickup truck, the ones that were rather ubiquitous in the Middle East. Myself and a Marine, Bill McGrady, who was assigned as my guard were tasked with taking home two kids who were kidnapped by an Al Qaeda cell earlier in the day, which was thankfully wiped out by today's raid. With the jeeps all filled, we commandeered a technical and the two kids got to rest in the truck bed as the cab was rather woefully too small.
Yemen, being in some parts featureless desert, meant that there wasn't much to see, and the drive back to the city where the FOB was set up was rather boring. That said, McGrady was a bit of a chatterbox.
"So, Tambling," McGrady shouted, trying to overcome the sound of the convoy ahead of us and the loud engine that had not been maintained in years. "Remind me, how did you convince the commander to assign a platoon to do CSAR just for those two kids?"
Up until that point in the trip back, I was napping quietly in the passenger's seat. Well, suffice it to say that in my service to the Navy, I also inflicted as many wounds as I tended, if not more. Now, McGrady, was not the most perceptive guy in the squad, and it really was a small miracle that his lack of awareness didn't get him shot. He was always the joker, so I knew that his question was more out of respect for my persuasive ability than incredulity.
"Convinced nothing, deary," I slowly replied as I sat back up properly. "I simply told him that missing kids means more suicide bombers. Logic followed that if tracked down the kids, you might find the camp. Everything today was purely his idea."
"Ah, true," McGrady conceded. His distaste was understandable, as the commander was brilliant tactician, but at the cost of forgetting a few quality of life details. "Friggen miracle that no one got shot except for the bad guys."
"So, deary, what are you complaining about?" I shot back.
"I dunno," McGrady said, shrugging his shoulders. "I mean, seriously, do you ever wonder why this little corner of the world is always messed up?"
I closed my eyes and shook my head, albeit with some tinge of sadness. "Don't ask me, deary, I just work here."
"Hooyah," McGrady sighed. "Well, at least we had something of a happy ending for today, hopefully the parents too. For certain values of happy." McGrady sighed again as the convoy passed through the wall that marked the outer perimeter of the city. "Welcome home."
"You two hear that, dearies?" I asked, finally turning around to address the two filled black and plastic bags carefully laid out in the truck bed. "We are home."
So, Estelle's stories are small vignette's of her previous life. They will be a bit shorter.
The nature of rescue missions, assuming they were successful, have a bit of a tendency to bring back more people than what you have sent out. And when you put together a rescue mission on an extremely short notice (we didn't have the luxury of a QRF at this time), that detail might slip through the cracks. And that's how I ended up having to ride shotgun in an old Toyota pickup truck, the ones that were rather ubiquitous in the Middle East. Myself and a Marine, Bill McGrady, who was assigned as my guard were tasked with taking home two kids who were kidnapped by an Al Qaeda cell earlier in the day, which was thankfully wiped out by today's raid. With the jeeps all filled, we commandeered a technical and the two kids got to rest in the truck bed as the cab was rather woefully too small.
Yemen, being in some parts featureless desert, meant that there wasn't much to see, and the drive back to the city where the FOB was set up was rather boring. That said, McGrady was a bit of a chatterbox.
"So, Tambling," McGrady shouted, trying to overcome the sound of the convoy ahead of us and the loud engine that had not been maintained in years. "Remind me, how did you convince the commander to assign a platoon to do CSAR just for those two kids?"
Up until that point in the trip back, I was napping quietly in the passenger's seat. Well, suffice it to say that in my service to the Navy, I also inflicted as many wounds as I tended, if not more. Now, McGrady, was not the most perceptive guy in the squad, and it really was a small miracle that his lack of awareness didn't get him shot. He was always the joker, so I knew that his question was more out of respect for my persuasive ability than incredulity.
"Convinced nothing, deary," I slowly replied as I sat back up properly. "I simply told him that missing kids means more suicide bombers. Logic followed that if tracked down the kids, you might find the camp. Everything today was purely his idea."
"Ah, true," McGrady conceded. His distaste was understandable, as the commander was brilliant tactician, but at the cost of forgetting a few quality of life details. "Friggen miracle that no one got shot except for the bad guys."
"So, deary, what are you complaining about?" I shot back.
"I dunno," McGrady said, shrugging his shoulders. "I mean, seriously, do you ever wonder why this little corner of the world is always messed up?"
I closed my eyes and shook my head, albeit with some tinge of sadness. "Don't ask me, deary, I just work here."
"Hooyah," McGrady sighed. "Well, at least we had something of a happy ending for today, hopefully the parents too. For certain values of happy." McGrady sighed again as the convoy passed through the wall that marked the outer perimeter of the city. "Welcome home."
"You two hear that, dearies?" I asked, finally turning around to address the two filled black and plastic bags carefully laid out in the truck bed. "We are home."
So, Estelle's stories are small vignette's of her previous life. They will be a bit shorter.
