Sunrise Over Fallujah Read Online Free PDF Page A

we’re not supposed to shoot civilians.” She was on a roll. “Now can you tell me how I’m going to explain that to my great-grandmother?”
    â€œOkay, let me straighten this mess out.” Jonesy was soaking his feet in a basin of water. “If somebody who looks like an A-rab shoots you, the first thing you got to do is to pull out your Rules of Engagement card and see what the rules are for the day. Because it could be a Rodney King day and we just all trying to get along and then you don’t shoot him.”
    â€œYou think that’s funny but it ain’t funny, Jones.” Darcy was still mad. “And how about that stuff with the Sunnis and the other people?”
    â€œThe Shiites,” I said. “Colonel King said there might be battles between the two sects.”
    â€œSo if they’re shooting, you have to see who they’re aiming at,” Pendleton said. “They could be shooting at each other.”
    â€œAnd Saddam wiped out a whole village of Kurds,” Marla said.
    â€œMy great-grandmother is not going to understand this crap,” Darcy said. “I don’t understand it, either. We’re over here talking about an enemy we can’t identify and friends we’re not sure about.”
    â€œWhat bugged me was when Captain Coles asked if we were going to disarm the Iraqis and Colonel King said we weren’t,” Pendleton said. “He said it would be disrespecting the tribes and we can’t do that because we’re going to be dependent on them to give us information.
    â€œWhat we got to do over here,” Pendleton continued, “is to kill all of them and let God sort them out.”
    I turned and looked at him and saw he wasn’t smiling. He meant just what he said.
    King had been talking about treating people humanely, and with dignity, but we were thinking about how hard staying alive was going to be.
    The bombing of Iraq has started. I don’t know what it’s doing to the Iraqis, but it’s filled us with shock and awe. We watched the first impacts on Baghdad this morning on television just before daybreak. The dim images of city buildings suddenlyilluminated by explosions that swept across the night sky filled the TV screen with brilliant color. A reporter wearing a flak jacket flinched as the bombs exploded behind him. Some of our guys were cheering; most just watched quietly. It wasn’t hard to imagine those bombs falling somewhere near you.
    At 0600 we saddled up and went out to the range to test-fire our weapons. Targets were a hundred yards out and each squad took a turn trying to hit them. In stateside training, the shooting was a pastime, something you did because it was interesting but you didn’t really like because you knew it meant you had to clean your weapon. Here on the Kuwaiti desert, target practice was suddenly serious.
    When it was my turn on the squad gun I was on target when we were stationary but way off when the Humvee was on the go.
    â€œDon’t worry about it,” Captain Coles said. “When we’re on the move it’s suppressive fire—all we want the enemy to do is to keep his head down while we get away.”
    Jonesy wasn’t any better than I was, but Kennedy was on the money big-time.
    â€œYou do a lot of shooting back in the States?” I asked.
    â€œI guess,” she said with a shrug. “My training officer said it just comes naturally to some people.”
    â€œYou’re a lot better at it than I am,” I said.
    â€œBirdy, the way you shoot is pitiful.” Marla grinned. “Maybe you should just practice making mean faces at the enemy.”
    I didn’t like that. The girl had an edge to her that ran along my nerves all the time. I thought about what my father said: I’d meet a lot of lousy people in the army.
    We left the target range and trekked to supply. Sergeant Harris was in charge; he had checklists and made