The Few, The Proud, The Undead

II

Sergeant Torrence met up with the three men serving under him in the Deployment wing of Fort Campbell. Buff was struggling to stand while carrying his seventy-five-pound backpack. Spooner was delicately wrapping some sensitive electronic gear with protective padding. Vicman was strapping grenades to his belt. They were four diverse but determined soldiers.

In eight short minutes, they were suited up with everything they'd need for the most dangerous mission of their careers. Boots were laced. Belts were tightened. Equipment was secured. Packs were stuffed. Canteens were filled. Clips were loaded. Knives were sharpened. Shotguns were pumped. Together they stood aligned like football players moments before the big game.

Their uniforms were each weighed down with an excessive amount of weaponry. They looked tough. They looked mean. These boys looked like four bad-ass mother fuckers -- The Wild Bunch in camouflage.

***

The four soldiers were glowing with confidence when they marched out onto the airfield tarmac. There, a black military helicopter was waiting for them. As they approached, the rotors sputtered and whirred to life. After all four climbed aboard, the pilot raised the helicopter up off the ground and into the sky.

Inside, the soldiers were packed into the back as tightly as sardines. The cabin would shake violently back and forth as they travelled through heavy winds.

Vicman and Spooner were trying to carry on a conversation. Even though they were sitting right next to each other, they had to yell to hear themselves over the deafening roar of the engine.

"Alright," said Vicman. "Did you hear the one about the Scotsman with three hundred girlfriends?"

"Yeah," said Spooner. "He's a shepherd, right? Ha ha. Very funny."

Buff leaned forward, trying to listen in. Torrence was trying to ignore them.

"Okay, I've got a good one," said Vicman. "Two blondes and their hunting instructor visit a forest to hunt for deer. The instructor tells the girls to sit tight while he tries to flush a deer out into the open. A few minutes later, a deer comes running out of the brush, and both of the girls immediately fire. They run over to claim their prize and find their instructor lying in a pool of blood. They rush him to the hospital, where they wait until the doctor comes out of surgery. The one blonde asks, 'is he gonna to be okay?' The doctor looks at them and says, 'well, girls, he had a better chance before you gutted him."

No one laughed, and it wasn't because they couldn't hear him. Torrence shook head and looked out the cabin window.

"That's the worst joke I've ever heard you tell," said Spooner.

Buff turned, and started to ask, "Vicman, how can two--"

He was cut off before he could finish.

"Buff, shut the fuck up."

"That's enough," shouted Torrence. The three younger soldiers snapped to attention. "We'll hit our drop point in ten minutes, so get your lines ready. I want complete silence until then, understood?"

Buff, Spooner and Vicman all nodded in agreement.

Torrence looked down at his watch.

"Time check. Synchronize for fifteen-thirty hours."

The three soldiers looked down at their watches. Vicman and Spooner were both wearing the cheap plastic digital variety. Nothing special, but they kept accurate time. Buff wasn't even wearing a watch, but pretended as though he were.