Feet First Into Hell

Medic in Sector 29

Phoenix hated this war, he hated the chain of command, and he sure as hell hated the locals. Here he was, a 26 year old man with a degree in computer engineering carrying a bullpup rifle through the jungle covered mountains of a country the civilians of Novam Domum heard about only a year ago. This war only had the N.D involved because the county had become a major source of cheap labor for the N.D, offering good quality while also keeping prices down. The enemy was communism, or the people attempting to turn the country to the failed system. The logic was this, if the country the N.D had become reliant on switched to communism there would be no competition within the borders, and if that happened then quality would drop to match the prices or the flip side could happen, prices might've raised to match the quality, causing prices to spike back home. This might've been fine if the country hadn't also turned into a major refinery for ores and oil. This was a war of money and comfort while preaching the evils of communism.

Now here he walked, a rifle in his hands and a squad of men behind him and in front of him. They were approximately ten minutes from their base, it would be less than half that if their transport hadn't gotten trapped in mud a mile back down the road. The squads trudged along the shoulder of the road and, quick enough for government work, they were reaching their base of operations, which was nothing more than a set of old concrete bunkers with ancient bullet casings still on the ground. The group of annoyed soldiers were only 30 meters from the fortified entrance to the complex when a bullet rang the helmet of one of their new recruits like a bell, the sound of gunfire echoing in after a frozen moment.

The soldiers all broke into a sprint for the entrance, trying to move fast enough to avoid the marksman’s next bullet. A few shots hit the dirt around their feet and one man who carried ammunition for the support team fell down with blood spraying from a seven millimeter hole in his skull. But that was it. Two men who had only been with the unit for two weeks, two men who never heard the shots that killed them and who were dead before they hit the hard packed dirt.

The first words out of Phoenix’s mouth were, “I'm not on retrieval”

A few of the men laughed uneasily before turning away, moving deeper into the tunnel system of the fortification. Phoenix followed them all the way to the barracks, moving over to his rack before falling onto it with a groan. His feet hurt, his back ached just as much, and his head throbbed while he laid on the cheap cot provided for him by the benevolent men above him.

Then Bard walked in, humming softly with the tune of the song cooked up in his head, which made him seem mildly psychotic at times until you learned that music had literally been his life before he was drafted. The blond haired man singing before he could crawl and playing instruments before he could walk, or at least that's how he told his life. That's not to say he didn't have skill, Bard was destined for stardom, assuming he survived his role as machine gunner. Bard looked at Phoenix and smiled, “hey Phoenix, how was the patrol?”

The young computer geek looked at his friend and replied, “nobody we like died, two of the rookies were picked off by an Elina on the other side of the valley. As far as i know he’s dead by now, i passed one of our snipers on the way in”

“Which one?”

“Not a clue, had a seventh sector patch on his cap, so i guess he’s a transfer”

Bard nodded and fell on top of Phoenix, yawning before commenting, “i would say you’re soft, but i can feel your plate in my ribs”

“Then get your fat ass off of me”

“But then who will i cuddle with?”

“Are you trying to get a boot shoved up your ass?”

“You'd need to be able to use your legs to do that”

“Bard, I can reach my knife with my free hand”

Bard stood and got back onto his bunk before pulling out a book, turning to a random page before saying, “I can't wait for the replacements to roll in”

Phoenix gave his friend an odd look, “you do realize you always bitch about the new recruits? All anyone hears from your lazy ass is how they're too reckless and rely on the rest of the team too much”

“Yeah, but I might be able to scam one out of their boots”

“You're evil”

“Evil or smart?”

“Yes”

Bard rolled his eyes and picked up his weapon, checking to make certain it was clear before he started to strip it down for cleaning, humming quietly while he did so.

Phoenix wanted something to do, so he grabbed his rifle and dropped the magazine, clearing the chamber before he started on the cleaning process. Phoenix was finishing up when he heard a group of people walking towards the barracks, the voice of the squad leader, a man nicknamed Solum, carrying ahead, “so, you guys will get a feel for the unit soon enough, and you'll also get into the cycle of chaos quickly”

Bard glanced at Phoenix, flicking his eyes towards the entrance before raising an eyebrow at him, “who the hell does Solum got with him this time?”

Right as Bard finished his question, Solum and five soldiers strolled in, the soldiers all clearly new to the country. Solum started pointing at empty bunks, the soldiers going to their newly assigned racks before sitting down noisily. Phoenix did not care, that was of course until one of the green soldiers dropped onto the bunk beneath him.

Solum looked at Phoenix and said, “bird brain, get the new medic settled into the squad, and when we go out on patrol I want you watching him, I'm tired of having to request new medics every week”

Phoenix sighed and hopped down, sitting on the empty bunk from the young recruit. “Welcome to hell, you're probably gonna die within a month, but if you survive two months you have a chance of rotating out of front line duty, a small one, but a ch-” Phoenix leaned forward and snapped his fingers in front of him “- like I was saying, a chance to get out of front line combat is small, but it gets people through the weeks well enough”

The Medic nodded and said, “makes sense, sir”

Phoenix rolled his eyes, “don't call me that, I hate formal stuff. I'm Phoenix here, nothing more and nothing less”

“Got it”

“Anyway, because you're the medic you'll get shot at more than almost anyone else, the only exception is with Bard, he's the machine gunner so he and you are both going to be ducking from bullets almost constantly”

“O-oh, got it”

“If you make sure to be careful the chance of you dying goes down a little”

“You're not good at giving pep talks”

“It isn't my damn job to make you feel good, it's my job to welcome you to hell”