An assignment for english
Posted: 2004-05-04 11:35pm
I am supposed to write a short story for my final project. here is part of it in rough draft form.
A Soldiers story
by Agent Fisher
I first met Master Sergeant Paul Rieson about a year ago.
We meet in a bar, in New York City. He was wearing his combat uniform, with just his name, rank and unit patch on it. I introduced myself and told him that I was looking for an idea for a series of articles to write for the paper I worked for. After a few rounds he agreed to meet with me for interviews.
The next time we talked we meet in a Starbucks coffee shop. He told me about what had made him join the United Earth Alliance Marines, his basic training and his unit.
"Good to see you, Sergeant." I said.
"Call me Paul."
"OK. So tell me what year did you sign up?"
"It was the spring of 2210. It was just after the former Confederacy nuked the United Earth Alliance summit in Geneva. I signed up for the Marines the next day. Basic training, now that was fun. My drill instructor was Gunnery Sergeant Johnson. He was one of those guys that looked like he could snap you in half. Looking back basic was the easiest part of my military career. I trained for three months before getting shipped to airborne training. I went through training twice, first time I broke my leg on a training jump."
After he said this he just sat there. Probably lost in his memories. It had been twenty years since those days. I looked at some of the paintings on the wall. The vibrant colors blended together to form beautiful pictures. I took a sip of my coffee and spoke again.
"So tell me, what unit were you assigned to?"
"I was assigned to A Company, 1st battalion, 596th Airborne Regiment of the 1st Marine Airborne Division. We were the first to strike the Confeds on there Capital Planet."
As he started to tell me about his first mission his eyes glazed over as he drifted back through time and space.
******
I walked into the armory/prep area, to get ready for the jump. I was already in my combat uniform. I was so excited to be part of one of the toughest units in of the fleet. I couldn't stop staring at the the unit patch on my shoulder, as if I didn't it would disappear. Well, once I had my gear packed and on there was little to do until we boarded the dropships, so I chatted with a buddy of mine from training.
"Well Scott," I said with a smile," you all ready to jump and give those Confeds hell?" At that time I still believed the UEA news broadcast, how the Confederacy was evil and used weapons of mass destruction against there own people. I thought, here was my chance to do something about that evil. I believed that the UEA was the shining beacon of humanity. Our best hope for peace. And now that hope was sending me to fight an evil as great as Hitler had been back in the mid-20th century.
"This isn't training, man. This is real."
As he said this I saw a veteran of the Special Forces putting a piece of duck tape on his boot. On it was his bloodtype.
"Look Scott, he's taping his blood type to his boot."
"No, thats smart. All Helljumpers do that." As he said this he extracted a letter from his jacket and looked at it. On the front were the words, 'To be delivered in case I die.'
"Thats bad luck too man." I said.
Then over the intercom came the strains of the Marine Airborne anthem. It was time to board the ships. I grabbed my rifle and headed to the launch bays.
Most of the ships there were the normal grey. But a few of the ships had red crosses painted on the nose, wings, and sides. These birds would serve as medevacs after the first landing was made. My platoon boarded one of the medevac birds. Underneath the cockpit was the callsign of the pilot. It was Angel.
******
He went on to describe the ride down to the planet.
All the time he was talking the tape recorder on the table was picking up every word he said.
"And then we got close to the dropzone. And I swear I could smell the stench of death in the air."
******
We were dropped off in a clearing among the burned buildings. It was probably a park before the orbital bombardment of the planet. My squad was in the lead. We moved out onto a street. Cars had been baked from fire, all turned into a uniform grey. The air was thick with ash from all the fires. Where there had once been life there was only death. Where there had once been color there was only grey.
That was when I saw my first dead body. I was walking in the lead with another guy when I rounded a corner and saw what remained of a man. I guess he was a soldier, he had a rifle. I suppose he died from a strafing run of a passing gunship. His right side had been blown off. The ground around him was stained red from blood. When I got closer and got a good look at his wounds I lost it. I started to vomit everything I had eaten that morning. My platoon sergeant had heard my retching and came running.
"Hey kid," he said, "it'll be okay. Here have some water." He handed me a canteen. I took a mouthful swished it around and spat it out on the ground and took a deep breath.
"Thanks," I managed to say.
"First body you ever saw?" He asked. I nodded. "It's okay most people have that reaction. You okay now? Good move out."
I got to my feet, wishing I could just go back home. But I started walking through the litter filled streets, past the pieces of buildings that had been scattered, past the burned cars and past death.
As I crossed a street we met the enemy. They had formed a barrier out of destroyed cars. As soon as I saw them the stacotto of automatic weapons rippled through the air. I dived behind cover and covered my head with my arms. The rest of the men in my platoon opened fire right away, at least the veterans. The new guys like me all were ducking behind cover. Except for my friend Scott. He was up and squeezeing off single shots at the enemy. As I watched he jusst kept shooting. And all I could do was hide behind the hulk of a dead car. One of the members of my squad started to run across the street towards to me to get a better shot at the enemy. As he ran, a stray shot hit him in the leg. One second he was running fine, the next he was lieing of the ground screaming for a medic. I wish I could say I ran out to him and dragged him back to cover. I wish I could say I was the one who saved his life. But I can't. It was Scott who ran out. It was Scott who ran out and grabbed him. And it was Scott who got shot doing it. Thats when something snapped within me. I stood up from my hiding spot and opened fire on the enemy. By this time they were falling back. As they fled, I ran out into the middle of the street and got on my knees mexto to Scott.
"Scott look at me you're going be alright. MEDIC!! Scott just hang on, buddy. MEDIC! GET ME A FUCKING MEDIC!" I screamed.
"Paul, tell me parents I fought bravely."
"You can tell them yourself." I said, even though I knew it was probably to late.
Then the medic got there. He went to work right away. He got on the radio and called for a medevac to rescue Scott. The bird was on its way.
As he worked the Dropship came in. We loaded Scott into it and the pilot shoved the throttle down to get the wounded to the Med Ship in orbit. As it flew away the bloodred stripes gleamed in the sun. I noticed the callsign of the pilot before it took off. It said Angel
******
"Did Scott die?" I asked tenderly, noting htere were tears forming in his eyes.
"No actually. He made it to the ship in time. They saved his life. He came back to the unit, but he was neever the same. Something changed. After that mission, well lets just say I lost those patriototic fellings pretty quick. To quote a movie from the early 21st century, 'Once that first bullet goes past your head, politics and all that shit go right out the window.' Thats how it happened for me. The real sad thing about Scott was that he died about two years later. He was to get out in a month and he got hit by a motar attack."
I checked my watch.
"I'm sorry Paul, but I have to go. I'll give you a call soon and set up another interview."
"Sure," he said. " Well I'll see you around.
And he walked out of the Starbucks.
A Soldiers story
by Agent Fisher
I first met Master Sergeant Paul Rieson about a year ago.
We meet in a bar, in New York City. He was wearing his combat uniform, with just his name, rank and unit patch on it. I introduced myself and told him that I was looking for an idea for a series of articles to write for the paper I worked for. After a few rounds he agreed to meet with me for interviews.
The next time we talked we meet in a Starbucks coffee shop. He told me about what had made him join the United Earth Alliance Marines, his basic training and his unit.
"Good to see you, Sergeant." I said.
"Call me Paul."
"OK. So tell me what year did you sign up?"
"It was the spring of 2210. It was just after the former Confederacy nuked the United Earth Alliance summit in Geneva. I signed up for the Marines the next day. Basic training, now that was fun. My drill instructor was Gunnery Sergeant Johnson. He was one of those guys that looked like he could snap you in half. Looking back basic was the easiest part of my military career. I trained for three months before getting shipped to airborne training. I went through training twice, first time I broke my leg on a training jump."
After he said this he just sat there. Probably lost in his memories. It had been twenty years since those days. I looked at some of the paintings on the wall. The vibrant colors blended together to form beautiful pictures. I took a sip of my coffee and spoke again.
"So tell me, what unit were you assigned to?"
"I was assigned to A Company, 1st battalion, 596th Airborne Regiment of the 1st Marine Airborne Division. We were the first to strike the Confeds on there Capital Planet."
As he started to tell me about his first mission his eyes glazed over as he drifted back through time and space.
******
I walked into the armory/prep area, to get ready for the jump. I was already in my combat uniform. I was so excited to be part of one of the toughest units in of the fleet. I couldn't stop staring at the the unit patch on my shoulder, as if I didn't it would disappear. Well, once I had my gear packed and on there was little to do until we boarded the dropships, so I chatted with a buddy of mine from training.
"Well Scott," I said with a smile," you all ready to jump and give those Confeds hell?" At that time I still believed the UEA news broadcast, how the Confederacy was evil and used weapons of mass destruction against there own people. I thought, here was my chance to do something about that evil. I believed that the UEA was the shining beacon of humanity. Our best hope for peace. And now that hope was sending me to fight an evil as great as Hitler had been back in the mid-20th century.
"This isn't training, man. This is real."
As he said this I saw a veteran of the Special Forces putting a piece of duck tape on his boot. On it was his bloodtype.
"Look Scott, he's taping his blood type to his boot."
"No, thats smart. All Helljumpers do that." As he said this he extracted a letter from his jacket and looked at it. On the front were the words, 'To be delivered in case I die.'
"Thats bad luck too man." I said.
Then over the intercom came the strains of the Marine Airborne anthem. It was time to board the ships. I grabbed my rifle and headed to the launch bays.
Most of the ships there were the normal grey. But a few of the ships had red crosses painted on the nose, wings, and sides. These birds would serve as medevacs after the first landing was made. My platoon boarded one of the medevac birds. Underneath the cockpit was the callsign of the pilot. It was Angel.
******
He went on to describe the ride down to the planet.
All the time he was talking the tape recorder on the table was picking up every word he said.
"And then we got close to the dropzone. And I swear I could smell the stench of death in the air."
******
We were dropped off in a clearing among the burned buildings. It was probably a park before the orbital bombardment of the planet. My squad was in the lead. We moved out onto a street. Cars had been baked from fire, all turned into a uniform grey. The air was thick with ash from all the fires. Where there had once been life there was only death. Where there had once been color there was only grey.
That was when I saw my first dead body. I was walking in the lead with another guy when I rounded a corner and saw what remained of a man. I guess he was a soldier, he had a rifle. I suppose he died from a strafing run of a passing gunship. His right side had been blown off. The ground around him was stained red from blood. When I got closer and got a good look at his wounds I lost it. I started to vomit everything I had eaten that morning. My platoon sergeant had heard my retching and came running.
"Hey kid," he said, "it'll be okay. Here have some water." He handed me a canteen. I took a mouthful swished it around and spat it out on the ground and took a deep breath.
"Thanks," I managed to say.
"First body you ever saw?" He asked. I nodded. "It's okay most people have that reaction. You okay now? Good move out."
I got to my feet, wishing I could just go back home. But I started walking through the litter filled streets, past the pieces of buildings that had been scattered, past the burned cars and past death.
As I crossed a street we met the enemy. They had formed a barrier out of destroyed cars. As soon as I saw them the stacotto of automatic weapons rippled through the air. I dived behind cover and covered my head with my arms. The rest of the men in my platoon opened fire right away, at least the veterans. The new guys like me all were ducking behind cover. Except for my friend Scott. He was up and squeezeing off single shots at the enemy. As I watched he jusst kept shooting. And all I could do was hide behind the hulk of a dead car. One of the members of my squad started to run across the street towards to me to get a better shot at the enemy. As he ran, a stray shot hit him in the leg. One second he was running fine, the next he was lieing of the ground screaming for a medic. I wish I could say I ran out to him and dragged him back to cover. I wish I could say I was the one who saved his life. But I can't. It was Scott who ran out. It was Scott who ran out and grabbed him. And it was Scott who got shot doing it. Thats when something snapped within me. I stood up from my hiding spot and opened fire on the enemy. By this time they were falling back. As they fled, I ran out into the middle of the street and got on my knees mexto to Scott.
"Scott look at me you're going be alright. MEDIC!! Scott just hang on, buddy. MEDIC! GET ME A FUCKING MEDIC!" I screamed.
"Paul, tell me parents I fought bravely."
"You can tell them yourself." I said, even though I knew it was probably to late.
Then the medic got there. He went to work right away. He got on the radio and called for a medevac to rescue Scott. The bird was on its way.
As he worked the Dropship came in. We loaded Scott into it and the pilot shoved the throttle down to get the wounded to the Med Ship in orbit. As it flew away the bloodred stripes gleamed in the sun. I noticed the callsign of the pilot before it took off. It said Angel
******
"Did Scott die?" I asked tenderly, noting htere were tears forming in his eyes.
"No actually. He made it to the ship in time. They saved his life. He came back to the unit, but he was neever the same. Something changed. After that mission, well lets just say I lost those patriototic fellings pretty quick. To quote a movie from the early 21st century, 'Once that first bullet goes past your head, politics and all that shit go right out the window.' Thats how it happened for me. The real sad thing about Scott was that he died about two years later. He was to get out in a month and he got hit by a motar attack."
I checked my watch.
"I'm sorry Paul, but I have to go. I'll give you a call soon and set up another interview."
"Sure," he said. " Well I'll see you around.
And he walked out of the Starbucks.