On the Line

“Form up!” Staff Sergeant Callahan bellowed. “Ammo count, now!”

“Hazelwood, dry!” I yelled.

“Magnuson, one round left!” came the reply.

Before we could finish, enemy fighters charged across the jungle clearing–straight for us.

“Alpha here,” Callahan barked into the PRC. “Target my position, now!”

“Three-four, repeat that,” crackled the response.

“Artillery on my coordinates!” Callahan shouted.

“Four, say again, over,” the radio hissed.

“Four-two, drop shells on my position, over!” he roared.

As the rounds wailed overhead, Callahan grinned at me. “We gotta stop getting ourselves into shit like this.”

I tried to laugh, but the first blast lifted us off the ground, slamming us into the dirt and knocking the wind from our bodies.