Page 44 - 100 Hours to Destiny

A familiar voice came back in response to Gunny’s transmission, it
was my fellow light armored vehicle classman once again, Marcus Mitchell
out of El Dorado Arkansas. He loved those Arkansas Razorbacks, and he
made no bones about that. The logistics vehicle was at full 75% speed
blowing a rooster tail of sand behind us, as the turbo whined on when
Mitchell came back on the encrypted radio, as he was standing watch for
Delta 6, “Delta 7, this is Echo 3 Mitchell send your traffic.”
“We are coming into the Company Coil from the west, you should
see our signature in eight mikes, and we’re coming in hard.”
“Roger that Gunny bring it on home. You are clear to pass into
Delta’s lines.”
“Delta Company, Delta Company, all Marines on watch, and Marines
manning gun turrets, be advised Delta 7 is coming in hard from the West. I
say again, Delta 7 is coming in hard from the West. Do not engage, as this is
friendlies coming in from the West.”
I smiled, for so many reasons. Not only was it great to hear my good
friend Marcus Mitchell taking radio calls on behalf of Captain Pollard, I
smiled further knowing that I was the driver for the Company Gunny. And
yet, here I was with him sitting directly behind me, treating me like a friend,
as a Marine brother. So many of the young Marines that had come out of
that training school eight months ago, alongside me, graduating out of San
Onofre, CA, on August 2nd, 1990, (the very day that the Iraqi Army had
invaded Kuwait City) were now standing amongst some of the truly
legendary Marines of Delta Company, and yes again I smiled.
“I’ve got eyes on the coil we’re rolling right into it.”
“Copy that Gunny, I see it.”
Another two minutes Gunny said, “Alright back it down, and I want
you to take twelve o’clock on the inside of the coil next to American Hero.”
Soon we were entering the coil, right next to Sgt Steven Yancey’s
vehicle, also known as Homer. Several of the Marines, to include Sgt Yancey,
were waving us on in. We could see big smiles on their faces, and it gave a
good vibration of the “tone” that was going on inside Delta Company’s
position. A hard-left turn and we were coming up alongside Captain Roger
“Rock” Pollard, Commanding Officer of Delta Company, and the legendary
LAV-25 attack vehicle “American Hero”. Captain Pollard himself was standing
in the Commander’s hatch with his comm helmet on. I would imagine he was
having a conversation with higher-ups. Mitchell broke over the net, “Delta 7,
see The Actual at his POS when set. The Six wants a debrief.”
“Solid copy, be there in five mikes.”
“Roger Seven.”