“They followed the buffaloes and their babies along the trail heading into the woods.”

“Why would the Indians do that and not just kill them right there Gunny?” Private Goober’s eyes glazed over as he turned his head to whisper. He was in his ‘thinking mode.’ Goober is good guy but sadly wouldn’t last long in the field. Just doesn’t have the head for it.

“Devil Dog you are dumb as shit. I’m glad we have bullet catchers like you to protect the real recon marines,” Gunnery Sargent Rodan (GRD to most of the company) spoke quietly staring down the sight on his M4.

GRD spoke very softly again, “Watch your sector Goobs and keep your mouth shut.”

Goobers big eyes turned toward the tree line.  Both bearded and rugged recon marines were in heavy ghillie suits invisible among the shrubs and rocks of the Afghan highlands.

They laid there prone hour after hour not moving an inch and seeing no one. Goober pissed himself twice and GRD only once. The damp spots between the backs of their thighs evaporated quickly but the moist uncomfortable groin area that was pushed to the ground remained.

Goober’s eyebrows raised with corners of his mouth as the light bulb went off.

“Swift, silent, deadly. The Indian’s are just like…,” a muzzle flash from the tree line. Silence.

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham


April 20th, 2015

Posted In: Mondays Finish the Story, Short Stories

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