Lying in the mud under a fallen tree, I could see them closing in on me. A group of twenty camouflaged hard-asses fanning out just before their attack. Armed to the teeth, about half with automatic weapons and plenty of extra ammo. I was on point, my friends in positions down the hill waiting for the assault. Behind trees and rocks guarding our outpost, my men waited in ambush. Our outpost, a two-story structure with firing holes and elevated firing platforms. A slapdash affair quickly constructed in case of attack. No more than fifteen feet high, a roughly circular structure with around ten firing slits with good cover. It more resembled a castle turret than a fort.
I volunteered to take the forward position. With our backs to the river, we knew they had to come this way. A series of fallen trees is where I picked my ground around one hundred yards ahead of the fort. I knew I was the youngest in my platoon with one distinct advantage. My small size made it incredibly easy for me to hide. A ditch was a grand canyon, a bush a jungle, tall grass a forest of cover. I had figured I could dig under a fallen tree, hide myself in the mud, and surprise them as I had seen Arnold do in Predator. When the enemy had passed, I could take out the middle of the line from behind and run my ass back to the fort. Hopefully with all my blood still in my body. I had waited for what seemed hours in the mud. The terrestrial crawlers of the forest making a playground of my hair, ears, and nose, but fear of snipers kept me still, kept me silent.
And now after such anticipation, I see my enemy. Fanning out, they cautiously approach without sound. They are twenty feet from me now and I can make out their faces. Grizzled fighters all of them. Calm, cool, awake. Their eyes darting left and right trying to fix my position. Ten feet away now, my heart is beating out of my chest. Why did I do this? I watch one of them walking right at me. He is going to step on the tree I’m wedged under. No mater what happens, I cannot move or make a sound. If I do, I’m dead. Pressure crushes me as he walks over the tree. It presses my head into the mud covering my eyes, nose and mouth. I’m suffocating. Stay calm, think. Clear your mouth without exhaling or using your hands. I dart my tongue out of my mouth and suck in sweet oxygen. Fighting the urge to gasp, I must control my breathing. I can’t see with my eyes covered by mud. Suddenly, a shot rings out. Our snipers have struck first. I feel a weight hit the tree as one of them falls on it. Not directly on top of me, but I knew one was down. First blood, my boys.
“Contact, Contact,” they scream as they return fire on my friends. I wanted so bad to spring to action and start firing. I would start my battle blind and in the crossfire I had to wait. They shout, “Kill them all” and I hear them charge into the series of trees I selected for my ambush. I knew they would use them as cover when they advanced. They’re walking right into my trap. Shots and hits ring out everywhere. The tree I was under was taking fire. Frozen in place, I must hold my ground. I must stay till they all have passed. Another screams in pain as he is hit over and over again. He was so close I could hear the rounds impact his body. Another has just walked over me and another. I only hear one more behind me; the rest have passed. I hear one of them say, “I got one; shot him right in the head.” Which of my friends was it, I thought.
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