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Title: "Operation Charlie Foxtrot" Part 1 Fandom: Over There (Sgt. Scream) Characters: Sergeant "Scream" Silas Prompt: 074. Dark Word Count: Approx. 1,424 Rating: PG-13, adult language Author's Notes: None at this time. If I think of any, I'll let you know. "Over There" is written and produced by the always-innovative Steven Bochco Productions, for the FX cable TV channel. I'm not making any money from this derivative work, just borrowing the squad for a bit o' fun.
"Operation Charlie Foxtrot" - Part 1
Camp Victory, West Baghdad AOR (3rd Infantry Division)
Captain Baron stood behind a folding table with maps and papers spread across it while the platoon commanders, their platoon sergeants and squad leaders assembled in Alfa Company's command tent. The officers and sergeants were mostly dressed in field-issue gray or khaki t-shirts and their battle dress trousers, since they had all been roused by the company top kick from various stages of sleep.
Baron called the company meeting to order as the available chairs found occupants and the platoon leaders took turns looking over the FRAGO, operations orders and maps issued from the battalion headquarters.
"Sorry to have sent Top around to wake everyone at this ungodly hour," Baron said, running a hand through his short-cropped black hair. "We just got orders from the battalion S-3 section. The entire brigade has been ordered to mobilize for a major sweep in our AOR. Its orders are to hunt down several insurgent cells that have been conducting the roadside IED attacks."
"Alfa Company has been ordered to conduct a pre-dawn house to house block search in the vicinity of the Al-Musharraf neighborhood. Intelligence reports from S-2 and the local CIA operations unit show a suspected insurgent cell that moved into the residential blocks there."
"I want everyone to have time to brief your squads individually and by platoon. The rules of engagement are to be followed as strictly as possible. Get to your people, make sure everyone's supplies are up to speed with Top, and assemble in the truck pool by oh four hundred. We move out at oh four thirty. Any questions?"
Sgt. Chris "Scream" Silas sat among his fellow squad leaders and listened intently to the Captain's briefing. He watched his platoon commander, Lieutenant Underpants, whispering to Captain Baron's executive officer at the battle map. When Baron broke the meeting and the company Top Kick took up a regal stance near the tent's exit to speak with each sergeant on the way out, he got to his feet and tried to slip out behind a squad leader from one of the other rifle platoons.
He didn't escape Lieutenant Underpants' eyes, and the officer clapped a hand on his shoulder from behind. "Sergeant Silas," Underpants said, "a moment of your time, please?"
"Yes, sir," Scream replied, turning to face his platoon leader.
"I've decided to make your squad the initial entry unit for our sweep in the morning," Underpants said. "I trust you can keep your pack of assholes under control and not shoot any civilians, right?"
"Sir, you would be wise not to call my people a pack of assholes when you want them to fight for you," Scream said. "We'll do our jobs, stay alive and go home. But don't think you're gonna get any more glory goodies by putting us on point."
"I don't expect your people to do more than perpetrate another screw up or violate my instructions as you seem to do quite often," Underpants said softly. "But if you're out front, I can watch you, and maybe I won't get my ass shot off trying to clean up a mess your people cause."
"My people don't screw up, sir," Scream replied, disdain dripping from his voice despite the sergeant resisting the urge to shout inside the command tent. "Is there anything else?"
Underpants saw Captain Baron cast a glare in his direction. "No, Silas. Get your men briefed up and see Top Strucker for any equipment needs."
Silas snapped a quick salute. "Thank you, sir."
When Scream left the tent, Captain Baron motioned for Underpants to come over. The officers spoke quietly across the map table.
"Lieutenant," Baron said. "I'm not going to bullshit around, soldier. I'm sick and tired of your incident reports and attempts to submit bad reviews on the sergeants in your platoon. I'm rather inclined to submit the same about you."
"Captain," the lieutenant replied. "The squad leaders are barely doing their jobs around here. They fight the battles their way, and don't ever seem to follow orders to the letter."
"Well, Lieutenant. You're new to the battlefield. I understand that. I know what you've been up to, trying to thicken your brag sheet. If you think using your platoon to make your war record look good, and it costs them injuries or their lives, then you have another thought coming."
"You're the leader and you set the example. If you're willing to throw the lives of the men and women of this command away just to get the next set of bars pinned to your collar, you might not live to see the day."
"But, Captain," Underpants tried to stammer out.
"Can it, Lieutenant. You went to Army ROTC and got your college paid for. You got to play soldier a lot and go to fraternity beer parties afterwards. This is war, Lieutenant. People live and die out here by our command. I was a company top kick in Desert Storm, and worked my ass off in OCS right after that conflict to get where I am today."
"From now on, your first and foremost mission is the well-being of your platoon. You cannot complete your mission without considering your men. Listen to the sergeants - they have the experience and know how to keep the rest of the platoon alive. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," Underpants replied, before excusing himself to make a tour of the platoon's hooches.
***
Private Frank "Dim" Dunphy woke up with a yawn when Scream kicked the foot of his cot with his combat boot. "What's up?" he mumbled groggily.
"Get your shit squared," Scream yelled, "all of you! Haul your asses out of those damn racks and get in your battle rigging. I want to do an equipment and gear check in fifteen minutes so the Top Kick can get us anything you guys are missing."
"What are we gonna need for this one, Sarge?" Private "Angel" King asked, as he laced up his combat boots and glanced around for a cleaning cloth to make sure his rifle's scope was ready for action.
"You need room for your weapon, ammo, and a couple MRE's if you want 'em. Make sure you all have your camel bags and body armor with the plate inserts. We're doing some house clearing in Al-Musharraf before first light."
"Well, shit," Private "Smoke" Williams grumbled from his rack, where the thin African-American was cleaning the barrel of his M-249 light machinegun with a long handled brush and CLP. "I should be totin' a broom and maid's apron then."
"Shut up, Smoke," Scream said. "We're not house cleaning. Intel dropped word that some of the ragheads who were blowing up our convoys have moved into our AOR. The whole brigade is going in hunting, to kick some ass."
"Why can't we get a couple extra hours of shuteye, Sarge?" Dim asked as Private Tariq Nassiri, their Arabic-speaking squadmate, heaved a dirty terrycloth bath towel at the bespectacled soldier for the dumb remark.
"Shock and awe, Dim. We're gonna catch the bastards with their pants down. If they're building bombs or getting ready to plant them along the West Baghdad convoy routes, we'll be able to beat 'em to the punch or catch 'em out in the open. We don't want their ugly, terrorist faces to see the first rays of sunlight and a brand new day. They're gonna see daylight through the bars of Abu Ghraib if we have anything to say about it."
"Damn right, Sarge!" Smoke chimed in, pumping his fist in the air.
"Listen up, all of you," Scream added. "Lieutenant Underpants is putting us on point for the platoon sweep operation. That means we're gonna be the door kickers. The prick is looking for us to fuck up. He can't wait to blame us for killng a civilian or anything equally numbnuts. So we're gonna do this op by the book. No mistakes."
"We hear you, Sarge," Angel said. "We won't let you down."
"Mrs. B is driving our truck for this trip, and Doublewide is riding shotgun. We're staging at the truck park. If anyone wants coffee, the mess tent is open for business. But your asses better be present and accounted for at oh four hundred, or The Duke will have your ass in a sling for sure."
Without further discussion, Scream walked out the hooch entrance just in time to intercept Lieutenant Underpants and Platoon Sergeant Murphy making their hooch tour...
Next Part: Sunrise over Al-Musharraf
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