When We're All Used Up

Chapter 12: Machine Gun.

I follow Fourier into the jungle, away from the path, I look at the other soldiers around me and see that they are holding their weapons by only their barrel.
"Why do y'all do that? Hold it only by the barrel? I mean, it's got its own carry handle.", I say as I look around.
"Fuck off, I don't have to tell you shit", is basically what they said, a bit more offensive, more so than Ray would.
"Okay.", we reach the end of the footprints and Fourier lifts up a tunnel trapdoor.
"Which one of you is doing this?-", Fourier asks us,
"WHY DON'T YOU DO IT, HUH?!", I interrupt, rudely.
"Since you have the BALLS to speak like that to me, you do it. You fucking girly girl.", I almost puke when he calls me that. I grab the M1911A1 from his holster, take off all my gear except from my clothes, obviously, my bayonet/knife, a bandolier of .45 Automatic Colt Pistol (ACP) magazines, a flashlight, and the M1911A1 pistol. I jump all the way down and feel a sharp pain when I land. I come to my senses and turn on my flashlight. I keep aiming down the sights of my pistol and look around. I look around and see one ladder to my left, one tunnel to my right, and one to my left. I take the one to my left and see the storage room. I mad dash for it before getting jumped on by a Vietcong guy. I pull out my knife and stab his throat. I push hard left and then hard right. I completely decapitate him. I don't care though. I shoot his forehead to make sure he's really dead. My ears ring loudly, my ears feel a pain like no other before. Normal gunshots are nothing compared to this. I keep running towards the storage and I enter the horribly dug tunnel known as the storage and I look around. I see boxes of 7.62 caliber ammunition. Boxes of AMERICAN M-16s and Soviet AK-47s and Chinese Type-56s, and Soviet PPSH-41s and Soviet Mosin Nagants. I gather the boxes, find some gasoline in the storage contained on AMERICAN Jerry Cans and I pour it on the boxes. I grab some of the food stored inside as well. I find a box of fragmentation grenades and put them on top. I grab an RPG-7 and a rocket from boxes, move far, far away from the storage, aim down the sights, go fully prone, cock the hammer and pull the trigger. Within seconds the rocket leaves the barrel, hits the inside of the storage, and blows it up. I feel the tunnel collapsing and I climb up the ladder, ears ringing and in more pain than my gunshot wound. I climb, and climb, and climb, until I reach the top and look at Fourier.
"Thank you son, I'm- I mean we- I mean you, are going to get a great medal for that.", this lights a rage in me I haven't felt before. I knew I had to do something. I am halfway into putting on my gear when I hear,
TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TAK.
"INCOMING FIRE" Fourier says. I pick up my rifle and return fire where I hear the gunshots. And when I need it most, it jams. It feels like years pass as I look at my rifle, my M-16, my sweet Jammy Jane. I get down and see our machine gunner is dead. I reach for his M-60 Light Machine Gun and fire back. It has the same TA-TA-TA-TA-TA sound that their rifles have, but louder. I shoot in circles. I watch as Fourier gets shot in the leg and arm, just like I was. I shoot all around until the fire seizes. I run over to him and use bandages to at least try to stop the bleeding. I run over to our dead radio operation and call in a TACEVAC and I wait by Fourier. I wait for about 1 hour until the Huey comes in to evacuate us. I load in all our men and we fly out of there. They take our men into a military hospital. And I leave the hospital.

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It's been 3 months since the incident happened by the hole. I turn on a TV in the base and see that First Sargent Alex Fourier is receiving a Medal of Honor. This pisses me off more than ever. I know what I must do now. Go on a fragging* spree. That night I run into the officer's quarters, cut a small hole into the top, measure everything, and throw in 3 frag grenades. I run off back into our barracks like nothing ever happened. I wake up the next morning to find out that 3 officers were killed and more were wounded. My primary target was our commanding officer. He died. This was a success.

*Fragging was a term used during the Vietnam War to describe when a soldier kills an officer intentionally, usually with a frag grenade.

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Well, Fourier is back for more from what I've heard. That scum. Got so many good people dead, does nothing but gets injured in the battle, and HE gets the medal? THAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME.! I've spent the last few months finding him and I know where he is. He's north of the Mekong Delta. Where all those patrol boats are. We will be there soon on a mission. I'll get him back for what he did.

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I walk into the rickety base, there's only tents, tents, and tents where they serve food. I walk over to a tent and look inside. I see shit that I wish I didn't. It looked like some dumbasses' room. It had porn magazines all over the floor, there were crusty looking tissues. And all I could think of is,
"How do people like this.".

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[Thank you for reading. Love you all <3]