Ranger

by Arthur Browne

Stop shaking me, dammit.

The orderly continued to gently shake the shoulder of his commanding officer. “Captain Larsen, it’s time to get ready,” he said quietly.

I hate waking up.  At least I am in a bed instead of sleeping on the ground with a rock digging in my back.

The captain rolled over and sat up. “Okay, Jimmy, I’m awake. Let’s get the show on the road. Tell the staff sergeant to get the boys ready.”

‘The boys’, huh? It’s always nice to have company when the time comes. Nobody likes to die alone. Not that I ever have to worry about that.

The captain got dressed in battle fatigues and strapped on his pistol belt. He was thinking about home.

Hey, is that your wife? Very nice. It’s a shame you aren’t going to see her again.

The captain took a last look around the small prefab office where he had set up his cot, making sure he wasn’t forgetting anything. Then he stepped out into the warm night air and looked around the compound of the forward operations base. His boys were busy under the full moon, swarming over and around the parked vehicles in preparation for the recon patrol.

Oh boy, it looks like we won’t have to do any walking today.

The captain went over to his command vehicle and ran a hand affectionately over the cool steel of the hull. He glanced at the name painted in small white letters. Corina. Once more the image of his wife filled his thoughts to be quickly pushed aside.

No. Keep thinking about Corina. I don’t give a shit about what you need to get done today. None of that matters. Not to me. Not to you. Not to anybody.

Behind the captain Staff Sergeant Riddley cleared his throat to interrupt the captain’s thoughts. “We are ready to roll, Sir. Corporal Barnes broke a finger working on an engine, but other than that, no problems.”

No problems yet.

Captain Larsen slapped the sergeant on the shoulder. “Let’s head ‘em up and move ‘em out, pilgrim,” he said in his best John Wayne voice. The sergeant turned and lifted an arm over his head. He rotated a clenched fist in the air as he walked to his own vehicle. All around the compound troopers began to scramble aboard the armored personnel carriers and the Rangers. The captain cast one last glance at the name on the flank of his own Ranger and, grabbing hold of a grip on the turret he hoisted himself up onto the deck. Two troopers climbed up behind him and he stepped aside to let them climb into the driver and gunner hatches. He gave them each a smile and a touch on the shoulder as they passed him, then followed the gunner  through the turret hatch being carful not to step on the man’s head as he took his seat above him. He put on his helmet and did a quick comm check on the built in mic.

Just a nice drive in the country, boys. The captain won’t be making the whole trip, but maybe some of you will be lucky.

The captain raised the turret seat to its highest position so that his head and shoulders protruded from the hatch. He swiveled his head to scan the four Rangers and six APC’s of his command. “Light ’em up, boys,” he said into his mic. Engines roared to life around him.

Nice ride you got here, captain. I know how some armor and guns can make you feel nice and safe. The Ranger is one sweet machine, but she has those big fuel tanks. And fuel burns. I have died in a few Rangers and it’s never fun.

The recon convoy rolled out of the compound and took to the road. The captain’s vehicle was third in line. One Ranger scouted a little ahead of the main column. The commander’s vehicle was close behind another Ranger, while the last one brought up the rear. The armored vehicles stayed close together as they passed down the narrow streets of the large town in which their base was located. There was no other traffic on the streets at such an early hour of the morning.

I took in the scenery with the captain as he scanned the buildings on either side alert for any trouble. Not much of a town. A few two or three story buildings mixed in with the houses. A few beat up cars parked here and there. The captain waved at a few soldiers, both natives and mercenaries,  manning checkpoints or patrolling the streets. I waved along with him. It wasn’t like I had a choice or anything.

The convoy came to the edge of the town and passed into a wide valley of farmland and scattered woods. “Open up, people,” said the captain on the command freq. The drivers let the space between vehicles widen on the narrow dirt road.

By the book never hurts, captain. But it isn’t going to help us much either. I focused on his thoughts for a moment. If I try really hard I can sort of hear what they are thinking. But he was just concerned with the route the patrol was supposed to take and what sort of trouble they could run into. I didn’t care what kind of trouble it was going to be. It never helps to know how you are going to die. Not if you can’t do a damn thing about it. The best I could hope for was that it would be an interesting way to go. And quick. Quick is good.

“Time to button up,” said the captain over the command net. All the Ranger commanders dropped their turret seats down into the lowered position and closed the hatches. This gave them less all-around vision, but kept the vehicle commanders safer from snipers and small arms fire. The Rangers and the APC’s rolled on through the night.

Oh yeah, this beats walking and carrying a bunch of gear.

Just as the sun began to lighten the sky the patrol passed through a small farming village. The captain kept a wary eye on the cluster of houses and shops using the turret periscope. There was no movement at all in the village. And that was rather strange because farmers tend to get up early.

You got the jitters, captain, but you keep calm and do your job. Your boys are lucky to have you in command. I hope your replacement isn’t too big of an asshole.

Two miles past the village the captain got on the radio again after consulting his nav comp. “We are going to turn off here and try to get up to the top of that ridge.”  The lead Ranger turned left, crossed a grassy slope and began climbing the ridge between two large stands of pine trees. The second Ranger began following in its tracks and the command Ranger did the same. Soon the entire convoy was climbing out of the valley just as the sun topped the ridge in front of them.

I hate waiting to die. All soldiers are afraid in combat but it isn’t the same for me because I have to do it over and over again. All soldiers know they might die today. I know I am going to. Sometime before midnight. And all I can do is wait for it to happen.

The captain was on edge. His orders were both clear and vague. Find out if the rebels were active in the area. And see if they had any mercenaries fighting with them, or if they had managed to get any heavy or high-tech weaponry.

You are all business, Captain. I admire that, but it makes you boring. I could think about my old life to pass the time but it is getting so that I can barely remember it. I didn’t have a hot wife like you. I can hardly recall my own mother’s face. I know I was a medic, hired by the Uniforce Corporation, but that seems so long…

Bullets began splattering and clanging off the Ranger’s armored hide. The hidden enemy was using only small arms. The armored unit quickly drove them back from the tree line. The captain ordered his personnel carriers to dismount their troops and then ordered the infantry squads to push into the small patch of forest while the Rangers circled around to cut off the rebel’s escape. The rebels had no weapons capable of stopping the armored vehicles. They were quickly slaughtered by the Ranger’s heavy weapons and the tough mercenary ground troops. It was all over in less than twenty minutes. Only two of the captain’s men were wounded in the fighting in the woods.

So far, so good.

The captain dismounted and went into the woods to look over the twenty or so dead rebels to see if there was any useful intel to be found. He was carefully guarded by his grim-faced men. None of them saw the wounded rebel who had dragged himself onto the tree branch above them. He had dropped his rifle but he had one weapon left. He pulled the pin and let the grenade roll out of his hand.

I felt the hot blast pound into the captain’s back and we were flying forward to land sprawled atop the body of a very young rebel. We stared into the young, innocent face for a moment, both wondering if this was the last moment the captain would have. There was screaming coming from somewhere, and the sound of rifle fire.

One of the captain’s troopers rolled the captain over. The concerned young face leaned over and the captain felt hands tearing open his armored vest. The captain forced a smile and gently told the young trooper, “You should really check for spinal injuries before you move the patient, Jones.” The young trooper was so glad to hear his captain speak that tears came to his eyes. “I think I am okay, Jones. Help me up, would you?”

We aren’t out of the woods yet, Captain. Literally.

Two of the captain’s men had been killed by the grenade, and another one severely wounded. The other troopers had made quick work of the wounded rebel. The captain stood unsteadily on his feet, the young trooper still holding onto his arm. Before the captain could say anything to reassure his men artillery rounds began bursting in the trees around them.

What did I tell you, Captain?

The captain immediately order two troopers to carry the wounded man back to the APCs and for the men to spread out and make their way back to their vehicles at the edge of the wood. But when the group made it closer to the vehicles they could see that one of the personnel carriers had been turned into flaming wreck by a direct hit. The captain ordered everyone to get into whatever vehicle had room for them. They had to get moving. They had to get out from under the artillery fire.

So now what, Captain?

The captain was a little shaken up. He was having a hard time organizing his thoughts. All he was sure of was that he was supposed to press forward to a certain point on the map before he could call his job done. He ordered the scouting column to spread out and continue up the slope towards the ridgeline. “And move it, people,” he screamed over the command channel.

There was a throbbing pain coming from inside us somewhere. I began to suspect that the captain had internal injuries. Maybe bleeding inside somewhere. If he didn’t get medical attention he was going to die. Oh, yeah, wait… 

The column seemed to be outrunning the heavy shell fire as the approached another patch of woods just below the top of the ridge. Then there was a streak of fire from the tree line and the lead Ranger blew apart, the turret spinning into the air and the burning hull rolling on for another twenty yards before it came to a stop belching black, oily smoke and roaring fire. “Keep moving,” screamed the captain into his comm mic. “Go right into the trees.” One of the armored personnel carries went up in a rising mushroom cloud of flame.

Our vision was getting blurry. You are a brave man, Captain. It was a pleasure to be along for this ride.

The few remaining vehicles made it into the trees. The captain tried to keep track of the battle, but it was getting hard to focus his eyes through the periscope, and there was so much smoke that he couldn’t see anything anyway. He forgot to switch his optics over to thermal vision. He was sweating and he was dizzy. He knew he should order his troopers to dismount from the carriers, but his body wasn’t obeying his orders anymore. He slumped back in the seat. The fight in the woods raged on around him.

 Our life ebbed swiftly away. I watched his last memories like a fading, flickering movie. His thoughts passed too quickly for me to link them to the flashing images. Who is that? Your mother? She looks nice. Is that the house you grew up in? It seems like a nice place t…