The Life of an American Warrior Vol. II
Honing His Skills
Suddenly, Travis stopped and looked outside the hanger. He saw the old man of his visions standing at the door, also looking outside. Then through the darkness he saw the movement of what seemed to be a squad of men running in their direction. He quickly realized the enemy was assaulting the hanger that the general’s car had pulled into, pointed and yelled, “VC assaulting the hanger!”
In two steps, Travis was at full speed running for the general’s car. The men in the hanger stopped to see what was going on, but no one moved until the first shot was fired. Then the MPs pulled their side arms and began returning the enemy fire as the mechanics scrambled for their weapons. The unarmed passengers were all frantically clambering for cover. When Travis got to the car, he immediately opened the door and pulled Gen. Rogers out and away from the incoming rain of bullets.
As he pushed the general behind a stack of tires, he thought about Lt. Stiles, Gen. Rogers’ pretty aide. Was she still inside the car? Maybe she was wounded? He had to go help her. He was once again at the car and opened the door to find the car empty, bullets hitting it and all around it. Then from around the back of the car came a Viet Cong soldier with a bayonet attached to his AK-47. He lunged at Travis to impale him with the bayonet.
What a foolish mistake Travis thought as he pushed the sharp instrument away, grabbed the man by the head and in one quick movement broke his neck. He grabbed the empty weapon and checked the dead man for more ammunition. He had one full clip of ammunition on him and Travis soon had it installed in the weapon. One look and it was apparent the assault force was spread out and wouldn’t be able to cover each other. He eased the weapon around the back of the car and found his first target. The shot struck the man in the center of his chest, knocking him backwards on the ground.
Repositioning himself behind a stack of what appeared to be helicopter doors, he could clearly see the four remaining men firing inside the hanger from about ten meters from the hanger. Then suddenly a lone man with no weapon appeared, running straight out of the darkness towards the hanger. Instinctively, he knew the man had to have a satchel pack attached to his body and was a suicide bomber. As the running man passed the men firing into the hanger, Travis fired another shot striking the bomber in the stomach. Falling down, he must have pulled the pin on the explosives because he blew up and wounded a couple of the enemy still firing.
Using the shock of the explosion, he stepped away from the stack of helicopter doors and fired a single shot at each of the enemy lying on the ground still shooting inside the hanger. He knew he had counted more than six men when he first saw them running in the darkness. Peering around the large opened hanger door to the outside, he saw three men. The one on the right was helping the one in the center put an explosive pack on and the one on the left was guarding the others. When the man saw the American he started to fire, but Travis was quicker and his first round struck the man in the head. The next shot hit the man with the explosive pack in the side and the third struck the man on the right in the chest as he tried to bring his weapon into play. He surveyed the area and detected no more danger then eased over to the men he had just taken out and noticed the one with the explosive pack reach up to pull the pin. As he did, Travis placed two more rounds in the man’s head.
The entire hanger complex was suddenly silent, the only noise coming from an unoccupied forklift. It had been used to unload the aircraft and now sat idling with no driver around. The aircraft also seemed empty as the crew must have already left for some well-deserved rest.
The hanger the aircraft was parked in front of began coming to life as the men inside must have finally assembled to attack the force hitting the hanger next to them. Upon returning to the hanger door, Travis stopped and listened to the chaos inside with the men trying to organize and before he entered he yelled, “Marine coming in, don’t shoot.”
“Come ahead,” an excited angry voice shouted back.
Just before he stepped around the hanger door, Travis noticed a lot of activity coming towards them and knew it was a strike force of Marines coming to meet the enemy. He walked into the hanger, met the sergeant that appeared to be leading the mechanics and said, “Sergeant, I think we got all of them. Post a guard and check on the wounded.”
“Yes sir,” the sergeant replied still in an excited voice. He was glad someone was there to take charge since the other officers were still standing around trying to figure out what had happened.
Then he headed right for where he had left Gen. Rogers. “General, are you okay sir?” he asked when he saw the general still sitting behind the stack of tires.
“Damn it Captain Monroe, you stepped on my ankle and broke it,” Gen. Rogers yelled holding onto his ankle.
“Sorry about that sir,” Travis said feeling he just couldn’t do anything right.
“What the hell made you run back to the car?” Gen. Rogers asked wincing in pain.
Thinking back to that moment he replied, “Sir, I thought Lieutenant Stiles might be with you and still in the car.”
“Damn it son, I think you might be more dangerous than the enemy. Help me up off this floor.” Gen. Rogers said reaching up to the big Marine standing in front of him.
“Sir, should you be moving?” he asked concerned he might make his injuries worse.
“Just get me over to the car,” Gen. Rogers said. ”
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