|  That’s the way it was when they opened up on us. The whole world turned to shit in five seconds. The perfect ambush, withering gunfire came at us from all sides, and in only
moments, they cut us to ribbons. Everywhere I looked, men returned fire
from cover or fell wounded. The awful noise was deafening, and the air
thick with the acrid tang of cordite. When ambushed, a soldier is trained
to face the enemy and attack – move as quickly as possible out of the
kill zone – even if it means hand-to-hand combat. We knew that,
of course, and we tried to, but enemy sniper fire from the trees kept us pinned
down.
- Sidney’s description of this firefight implies more than visual and
auditory elements. His olfactory senses were assaulted by the smell of
gunpowder, and although he does not mention it, his body and brain would have
noticed and recorded vibrations of many kinds. Bullets passing near him
at supersonic speed created innumerable pressure waves, and the ground trembled
with the detonation of rocket grenades. Also, Sidney’s tactile
senses were in play, and his brain registered the feel of the ground he lay
on.
Twenty minutes of getting the crap kicked out of us, and the CO finally passed
the word to get the hell out of there. My weapons squad was to engage
the enemy with machine gun fire until the company got down the hill. Then,
they’d cover us while we made our run for it. Not much of a plan
and a risky proposition. Three days of heavy artillery fire on the hill
had destroyed the vegetation below us, which made getting down easier but exposed
retreating troops to enemy fire. Not much of a plan, but we couldn’t
advance, and we sure as hell couldn’t stay there.
|
