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Dominated by female game warden while caught skinny dipping.

I could see the platoon was deployed in the ditches and being attacked from the front and the right side, where the bad guys had set up behind rocks on the hillside above the road. I looked for the biggest threat, but Joe found it first.

"Machine gun, 2 o'clock and 300 yards north of the vehicle." Moving my rifle that way, I saw the muzzle flash and increased magnification to 24 times. "Range 1440, wind 10 from 070, elevation -330." I put the information into the ballistics calculator, basically a program for my iPhone that was preloaded with the ballistics of my rifle and load. My scope was normally zeroed for a thousand yards and no wind, so I quickly adjusted the 18 clicks right and 10 clicks down. Placing crosshairs on the target, I relaxed my body, trying to get as low and still as possible, while slowing my breathing.

I had the target and centered the crosshairs on it between heartbeats. "Ready."

"Send it."

The .50 caliber rifle belched its fire as the heavy projectile hurtled towards its target. I could see the trail through my scope until it struck the rock just to the right of the nest.

"Elevation good, 2 yards right." Joe had seen the same. I made a quick adjustment to my scope and relaxed again.


"Send it." Boom. This time it was right on. The machine gun jerked upwards before falling silent.

"Hit. Next target, right 20 yards, down 5, RPG."

I move over to it. Everything was close enough enough that I didn't have to make more adjustments. We worked methodically through the targets, almost not hearing the "whoomp whoomp whoomp" of the mortar launches. Someone shouted "INCOMING" and we hunkered down in our sandbagged position, covered by the sheet metal roof. Three explosions, one really close. "JOE WHERE THE FUCK ARE THEY FIRING FROM?"

The counterbattery computer was already on it. The radar had tracked the incoming mortar shells and calculated the firing location. This was linked to an artillery unit nearby, and the enemy mortar team only got off four more rounds before a 155mm Howitzer round vaporized them and the truck they were hiding behind.

The mortar team being handled, we went back to work. The range made it difficult but I got more hits than misses as we knocked out attackers from top to bottom, figuring the Marines would have an easier time with the ones that were closer. The battle had turned in our favor, and a few minutes later the enemy retreated over the hill. I figured I took out eight or so, we would find out later when the bodies were recovered. Fifty cal wounds were pretty easy to identify as it basically exploded them like a watermelon.

"Nice shooting Doug."

"Good job Joe, you got me on them quick." Joe stood up as I unloaded my weapon. It was only when I tried to get up on my knees I noticed there was something wrong.

"Doug... lay down. CORPSMAN!!" Joe held me down with one arm while he got out his flashlight. "Fuck, man, just sit still and wait."

I reached back with one hand to where my butt hurt, feeling the blood that soaked my boxers as my fingers reached the shard of metal embedded just below the Kevlar vest in the top of my right butt cheek. "Fucking hell, man, the bastards shot me in the ass!"

Joe moved aside as Doc moved into our position, taking the rifle and spotting scope with him. Doc cut my boxers off with a scalpel, leaving me bare-ass facing the rest of the team as he cleaned away the blood and inspected the jagged shard. I had a couple other small wounds on my legs he quickly bandaged. "L.T., we need a medevac for him." Our platoon leader moved away to call it in. "Jesus, Doug... wait till the nurses get a look at that pasty white butt of yours."

"Fuck you, Doc, I'm from Minnesota, that's TAN for us." Doc laughed as he packed the wound with gauze then tied a field dressing over it. He also gave me some morphine. That's some good shit. Pretty soon I was feeling no pain.

Doc, Joe and the Lieutenant had a conversation while I was relaxing on the shooting

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