Lest We Forget by leo jenkins Page A

mountainside and settles in next to my location.  I ask him if he is alright but I really didn't really care.  My focus was on the fact that I was about to be in a real deal Taliban versus Ranger firefight and I was ready.
    Nothing.  Nothing happened.  A few quick shots from one our guys and then nothing.  It was like having a random girl at a bar grab your junk then just leave.  Now here I am left with a combat chub and nothing to shoot at.  Within a few minutes we pick up and continued our movement, at times having to literally crawl on our hands and knees in certain areas.
    My good friend Josh, who has the very appropriate nickname “the angry leprechaun” has the unfortunate task of hauling the ammo for the 240B.  A 240B is a belt fed weapon that dispenses 7.62 rounds like confetti at a parade.  Josh was a stud for sure; he wrestled in college and had that ‘I’d rather die than give up’ attitude, which is a common theme among successful Rangers. The combination of the altitude, heat and 60+ pounds of gear will wear on anyone, however, and he was no exception.  I can tell that he is getting his lunch money taken and ask him if he wants an IV.  He refuses so I give him some Gatorade and sit with him for a moment.  He recovers and we continue to crawl up the side of that steep mountain.  This makes me much more aware of how the men are responding to these rigors.  I felt okay but I spent a decent amount of time in my youth hunting in the mountains of Northern Arizona.  My father and I would cover 30+ miles in a weekend hunt across some demanding terrain.  And while this made that feel like walking from Cinnabon down to the Hot Topic at the Arrowhead Mall, it was still a better indoctrination than my friend from Iowa would have ever had.
    As the sun sets on our first day in the Kunar we set up a patrol base.  Do you remember that kid in school that asked, "when are we ever going to use this? Why do we have to learn this?"
    Well, that kid was me in basic training when we were going over how to set up a claymore mine. A claymore is a directional, anti-personnel mine that saw heavy use in Vietnam but has become a relic of sorts by modern warfare standards. Right up there with the bayonet.  So needless to say, when my Platoon Sergeant gave the order for us to set them up just outside of the patrol base I nearly shit myself.  I mean seriously, it's 2005 and we are Rangers!  Don't we have something a little more high speed than a fucking claymore?!  Luck ily for me, the instructions "Front toward enemy" were idiot proof. (Sorry Matt, I know that's why you got No-Go'ed in Ranger school.)
    With our cool guy booby traps in place and the first watch posted up I decided to check on each of the guys.  I walk around checking feet for blisters, handing out pieces of candy from my ‘morale pouch’ and making sure that no one had sustained any injuries throughout the day.  Some time during the night we get a care package in the form of a 1-ton pallet dropped from a C-130 cargo plane, full of water, medical supplies, food and batteries.  I gather up several IV bags and pre-package them with everything necessary to get a line started.  I make four of these and give one to each of the squad leaders.  One of them complains about having to carry the weight.  I explain to him that I already have six of them in my bag, plus every bit of equipment that he is carrying.  The next morning I find the blue package hidden in the bush where he was laying the night before.  What a shit head. I pick up the bag and add it to the contents of my pack.
    My Platoon Sergeant calls me over and says that we need to set up a choke point.  I'm at a complete loss.  I have no idea what he was talking about.  I thought it might be some other Vietnam area Ranger trap.  I felt pretty dumb when he just wanted me to take a knee and count the Rangers walking out of the patrol base to make sure that we had everyone.
    It's midday and we