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The Bunker As I rotated my M60 on it's bipod, scanning the open field ahead, I breathed a sigh of relief. For the last hour we were in some intense skirmishing. I hadn't, but my assistant gunner was dead. He had 6 shots in his head and at least 4 in his chest. Not a pretty sight. His blood was spilled all over out bunker, along with his brain. I vomited at the sight. I've been killing in this damn war for this was my friend. Joe Lewis, Private First Class. Dead before my eyes, half of his head was gone. The rest was on the floor of the smelly ass machine gun bunker. Suddenly, I heard explosions. Damn Iraq camel jockeys! They charged us again.

Lieutenant Gibbons radioed me. "Why the hell am I not seeing dead bodies Corporal Drake? Get off your ass and cap those bitches!"

"Roger, sir," I said. I then manned my gun and riddled the Saddam worshippers with bullets. At least 4 fell within 30 seconds. The Iraqis were getting closer and closer. I threw all 4 of my grenades at them. They pressed closer to my bunker. At least 20 of them shot dead at 50 feet. I took Joe's grenades and threw threm as distractions. I picked up my M60 and ran out of there.

They screamed something in Arabic about me and I heard rifles fire. A bullet tore through my leg and I heard the bone snap. Another and another tore threw the fragile flesh. "Fuck!" I screamed as my right leg was broken in 3 spots. I pulled out my Beretta. Trusty 9mm. I aimed and down one went. I did the same to 14 others. One shot one kill. Corporal Drake, the pistol sniper. Only problem was, I had a broken leg, no more magazines for my Beretta, and I couldn't carry the M60 like this. There were 5 left too. Unlucky for one of our guys, he died next to me and was carrying a much lighter M4 Carbine, lucky for me though. I reloaded his weapon and picked weapon and picked it up. I limped towards a tree and climbed. From here, I could easily snipe them. The camel jockeys approached slowly. They must have noticed for longer than today. They reached the tree I camped out in. I let a few rounds out and one went down. They spotted me and started firing. A round hit my left arm, but not breaking it. I took out another one. I still had one grenade I jockeys scattered and took cover. I managed to take another out. Only 2 left but I was in bad shape. I must have had 15 rounds or less left. I didn't have time to steal magazines.

I climbed higher into the tree, knowing they'd try to come up. When I saw they were climbing. I jumped down to the ground. I pulled out my lighter; I should quit smoking, and set the grass on fire. The dry ground flared up quickly. The Iraqis panicked. They tried to run but were surrouned by flames. I thought to myself, "You are a major asshole."

They managed to climb down but were set on fire. They began rolling in the grass. I then limped over and said, "Freeze!" When they were done rolling. They put their hands up. I radioed the helos to pick up our remaining team and to have medics for us, and I captured 2 Charlies.

By Major Niko3p