Page 57 - 100 Hours to Destiny

fed them all. Lastly, 1stLt Scott Williams, the 1Sgt Alfonso Villa, the Company
GySgt Steven Dell and last but not least the Captain himself came through
the line. Captain Pollard always made sure he was served last…even if the
pickings were slim, that’s how he preferred things done. And that never
went unnoticed by the men.
As Captain Pollard made his way through the line, he looked at each
one of us and said, “Thank you. Do your jobs Marines, to the best of your
ability, in this Invasion, and be bold!”
“Aye-aye sir.”
“Now you Marines enjoy a plate and bury the rest of it in the ground
when you’re done. Get back to your vehicles and prepare…. Get some rest
but make damn sure that you’re rotating your watch.”
“Aye-aye sir!” came our reply.
“Carry on War dogs.”
I stood there with Mitchell, Matt Stuck, and Gonder, just the four of
us as we watched the Captain carry his plate of chow over to American Hero.
I said, “Ain’t he something? Now that’s a Commander… he always eats last,
but he’s always the first in the line of fire.”
The four of us turned on the last remaining portions of today's meal
and ate heartily, yet the words of our commanding officer resounding in our
ears “stay lean.” So, with several more servings left, we grabbed two shovels
and did as directed and buried what was left of the food. We stood and
looked at each other and realized the significance of burying this food, it was
a matter of discipline and following orders.
With the chow serving area secure and all tidied up according to our
satisfaction, the four of us parted ways back to our area of operation….night
was falling. I had seen GySgt Steven Dell in the chow area just before my
heading back to open up the logistics vehicle. I clambered up the three-rung
metal ladder that was permanently welded to the exterior of the LAV and sat
down atop and began to see the first stars of the night emerging. I thought
about the security of my M16A2 of which I had retrieved from my buddy
Mitchell’s driving compartment and made the decision to place it in the rifle
rack in my driver’s compartment. This was go-time approaching and I did not
want nightfall to catch me inadvertently misplacing my personal weapon. I
wanted it right where I knew where it was.
The breeze was picking up just slightly, probably about 8mph gusting
to 10, but it felt really comfortable up on top of the LAV. The wind was
carrying the voices of my fellow Marines right up to my position, I could hear
so many mixed conversations….I found it comical yet endearing. The
excitement of Delta Company was thick in the air. We were nearing the
witching hour. The time was 2000 hours, I leaned back against the Gunny’s