well integrated with each other that people knew what to do. They formed into new squads, which were very similar to their old squads.
The next thing was for the 17th squad leaders to integrate with the Bravo Company squad leaders. The semi-trained irregulars of the 17th would be taking orders from Bravo Company leaders. This should be interesting, Edwards thought. But, then again, the military organized itself in a way that made it much easier for new people to plop into a unit and work as a team. It was designed that way.
It was almost 6:00 a.m. and time to ship out. Grant went down to the first floor where all the coordinating was going on. He saw Pow, who came over and gave Grant a bro hug.
“We’re doin’ it, man,” Pow said with a smile. “We’re goin’ in.”
“You’ll do great,” Grant said. “Show these regular Army guys what some UCGs can do,” referring to their joking designation of “Untrained Civilian Goofballs.” “Oh,” Grant said, “and take care of the boys for me,” referring to the rest of the Team. “Bring ‘em back, brother.”
“Roger that, brother,” Pow said. “Roger that,” he repeated as he straightened up his posture. Pow paused and then threw out his hand as if to say, “It’s nothing.”
“We’ve done lots of shit that we weren’t supposed to know how to do,” Pow said with a grin.
“I’d go with you,” Grant said, “but…”
Pow cut him off. “Don’t give me this. You’re not wimping out, dude. You have some shit to do here. That’s been the big plan all along. You do your thing; we’ll do ours.”
Pow looked Grant right in the eye and said in a serious tone, “You have skills, Grant. The Man Upstairs wants you to do some things here. Do them.”
That was the most serious thing Pow had ever said to Grant. Normally, Pow talked like a surfer dude, but not now. He was serious about this.
“Will do,” Grant said. “And, if you come back from the capitol and I’m not here because I cut myself on some paperwork and bled to death,” they both laughed, “well, thanks for getting my family out of Olympia. ‘Gonna eat that pickle?’ Classic, dude. Classic. You guys risking it for my family meant everything. Thanks.”
“What?” Pow asked with a questioning expression. “This isn’t some goodbye, dude. Don’t even talk that way. We’ll be back in a couple hours. Couple days, tops.” Pow smiled his beaming smile of confidence.
By now, Scotty, Bobby, Ryan, and Wes had assembled around Pow. It was time to go. They all bro hugged Grant. The Bravo Company guys thought it was weird for some contractor-looking guys to be bro hugging a commanding officer, but whatever. They were an irregular unit.
“Let’s go!” yelled one of the Bravo Company squad leaders, and off they went. No one from the 17th looked back. They wanted to, but didn’t want to look like wusses.
As they started walking off toward combat, none of them could possibly imagine what was going to happen in the next two hours. None of them saw it coming.
Chapter 300
“Kah-mah-la-malik!”
(January 2)
It was strangely quiet at the brewery after Bravo Company and half of the 17th left. It was noisy in one sense—radio traffic, people running around coordinating things, everyone asking Ted and Grant to make decisions—but it was quiet in another sense. Not seeing half the unit around was weird.
Grant had thought of a lot of scenarios over the past few months for combat in Olympia, but half his unit getting poached by a regular unit wasn’t one of them. He felt nervous. He always had a plan for everything. Everything. But not for this. He used plans like a crutch in stressful situations, and he didn’t have his crutch now. Everything seemed chaotic. And he was tired, which amplified his emotions.
Grant motioned for Jim Q. to come over. “Tell HQ that civil affairs is up and running in the brewery.” Jim Q. started talking in his code, but Grant heard
The next thing was for the 17th squad leaders to integrate with the Bravo Company squad leaders. The semi-trained irregulars of the 17th would be taking orders from Bravo Company leaders. This should be interesting, Edwards thought. But, then again, the military organized itself in a way that made it much easier for new people to plop into a unit and work as a team. It was designed that way.
It was almost 6:00 a.m. and time to ship out. Grant went down to the first floor where all the coordinating was going on. He saw Pow, who came over and gave Grant a bro hug.
“We’re doin’ it, man,” Pow said with a smile. “We’re goin’ in.”
“You’ll do great,” Grant said. “Show these regular Army guys what some UCGs can do,” referring to their joking designation of “Untrained Civilian Goofballs.” “Oh,” Grant said, “and take care of the boys for me,” referring to the rest of the Team. “Bring ‘em back, brother.”
“Roger that, brother,” Pow said. “Roger that,” he repeated as he straightened up his posture. Pow paused and then threw out his hand as if to say, “It’s nothing.”
“We’ve done lots of shit that we weren’t supposed to know how to do,” Pow said with a grin.
“I’d go with you,” Grant said, “but…”
Pow cut him off. “Don’t give me this. You’re not wimping out, dude. You have some shit to do here. That’s been the big plan all along. You do your thing; we’ll do ours.”
Pow looked Grant right in the eye and said in a serious tone, “You have skills, Grant. The Man Upstairs wants you to do some things here. Do them.”
That was the most serious thing Pow had ever said to Grant. Normally, Pow talked like a surfer dude, but not now. He was serious about this.
“Will do,” Grant said. “And, if you come back from the capitol and I’m not here because I cut myself on some paperwork and bled to death,” they both laughed, “well, thanks for getting my family out of Olympia. ‘Gonna eat that pickle?’ Classic, dude. Classic. You guys risking it for my family meant everything. Thanks.”
“What?” Pow asked with a questioning expression. “This isn’t some goodbye, dude. Don’t even talk that way. We’ll be back in a couple hours. Couple days, tops.” Pow smiled his beaming smile of confidence.
By now, Scotty, Bobby, Ryan, and Wes had assembled around Pow. It was time to go. They all bro hugged Grant. The Bravo Company guys thought it was weird for some contractor-looking guys to be bro hugging a commanding officer, but whatever. They were an irregular unit.
“Let’s go!” yelled one of the Bravo Company squad leaders, and off they went. No one from the 17th looked back. They wanted to, but didn’t want to look like wusses.
As they started walking off toward combat, none of them could possibly imagine what was going to happen in the next two hours. None of them saw it coming.
Chapter 300
“Kah-mah-la-malik!”
(January 2)
It was strangely quiet at the brewery after Bravo Company and half of the 17th left. It was noisy in one sense—radio traffic, people running around coordinating things, everyone asking Ted and Grant to make decisions—but it was quiet in another sense. Not seeing half the unit around was weird.
Grant had thought of a lot of scenarios over the past few months for combat in Olympia, but half his unit getting poached by a regular unit wasn’t one of them. He felt nervous. He always had a plan for everything. Everything. But not for this. He used plans like a crutch in stressful situations, and he didn’t have his crutch now. Everything seemed chaotic. And he was tired, which amplified his emotions.
Grant motioned for Jim Q. to come over. “Tell HQ that civil affairs is up and running in the brewery.” Jim Q. started talking in his code, but Grant heard
Similar Books
