Collateral Damage Read Online Free PDF Page B

the slug had nicked one or both of the bones in the lower leg. I ignored him, tried to stand, and fell back when the pain struck, a sapling taken down by one stroke of a good ax. Blood was running down my leg, warm and bright in the harsh sun.
    â€œGoddamnit, L.T., you don’t listen good.”
    â€œOkay, Doc. I’ll stay here. You go on. The guys might need you.”
    â€œThey’ll be fine. I’m getting you back to the LZ.”
    The landing zone was three miles away, and I didn’t think I’d make it back without a stretcher. We’d improvise that when the team reassembled. And Doc was right. The men would be fine without him. Most had been cross-trained as medics and could handle things. All of them, including Doc, were Rangers and infantrymen. Doc had taken extra training in medical matters back at Ft. Sam Houston, Texas, so he was designated the team’s medic. But at heart, he was an infantryman, and in the end, he would act as one.
    We sat quietly, neither of us saying anything. The pain was getting worse, but I didn’t want morphine. I needed to stay coherent. When I took the bullet, command of the unit had fallen to Master Sergeant Jimbo Merryman, the most capable soldier I’d ever known. My men were in good hands. I had a walkie-talkie, a small radio with limited range, but I could talk to Jimbo if I needed to.
    I heard the occasional snap of rifle fire in the forest, but much of it was muffled by the thick vegetation. An hour passed and the air came alive with the sound of gunfire. A machine gun chattered in the distance, then the whoop of mortar rounds.
    Jimbo came up on the radio. “L.T., Charlie has moved in behind us in force. I don’t think we can get through. I’m going to have to go forward, get through these woods, and find another landing zone so the chopper can extract us. Can you move?”
    â€œGo for it, Jimbo,” I said. “We’re on our way back to the original LZ. It’s too hot here to bring in a chopper.”
    â€œCan you walk, sir?”
    â€œI can, Jimbo. You take care of the men. Doc’s with me. I’m fine.”
    â€œWill do, sir.”
    I put the radio down, looked at the soldier sitting beside me. “Get out of here, Doc. It’s going to get hot as soon as Charlie starts coming out of those trees.”
    â€œYes, sir. We got to go.”
    â€œYou go. I can’t walk.”
    â€œI ain’t leaving you, L.T. You remember what they did to Ronnie Easton.”
    Easton was one of us. He’d gotten separated from the team the week before and disappeared. Late that night, we’d snuck up on an encampment in the bush that was full of black pajama clad Viet Cong, fifty or more of them. We heard Easton start to scream. He screamed for a long time, longer than any of us wanted to contemplate. The men begged for permission to go after him, but Jimbo and I kept them hidden. We wouldn’t help Easton by getting ourselves killed.
    Finally, the screaming stopped. We waited out the night and moved in at first light. The VC had left, and all we found was Ronnie Easton hanging by his feet from a tree, his body badly mutilated. He’d suffered greatly and died in a trackless jungle about as far from his South Carolina home as he could get. He’d died terribly, and we’d all heard it. We cut him down and brought his body out, back to what served as civilization, our putrid base camp at the edge of the mountains.
    â€œI remember. I’ve got a loaded rifle, and I know exactly how many rounds are in the mag. I’ll save the last one for myself. Go. Lieutenants get to give orders. That’s one right there.”
    â€œI’m going, sir.”
    He squatted beside me. “Now, listen up. You ever hear of the fire-man’s carry?”
    â€œWon’t work, Doc. Too far to go.”
    â€œI’m going to put you on my shoulders and we’re going to move. It ain’t going to