[ WP ] Walk me through a soldier 's last day alive .

The shit and water mixed in his trousers as he sat under the openly flowing well pump; a cigarette burned idly between his fingers as his brain struggled to rationalize the events of the day. Mort was only two weeks into his first combat deployment, yet he had already seen the limits of human endurance contrasted against the fragility of life. The knowledge seared into his brain for all time. 
 
 Day 3 of Operation King Pin April 05, unshaven and able to smell his own odor, Mort stood in the hole created in somebody ’ s home via C4 explosives the day prior, his ten man squad staged to push out on a reconnaissance patrol further into the rural town. It was 0500 and the marines had managed to get about five hours of sleep sense the operation began. The walk was only made longer by the rising sun, continually pushing the temperature up, to finally plateau at a hellish 130 degrees. At about 1100 the squad reached their turn around point and took a knee to observe the surroundings. 
 
 Mort looked out over the beautiful sight before him; the sky encompassed a vast landscape, which stretched forth to a professedly unreachable horizon that the marines strove endlessly to find. The seemingly infinite fields of blooming poppy reminded him of The Wizard of Oz, although unlike Dorothy he did n't wish to be home. The only violence to be experienced in this place was caused by the compounding discomforts of tremendous weight, scorching heat, and a nasty stomach virus that had some of the marines expelling bile from both ends, bringing them dangerously close to casualty by heat. 
 
 A pot shot rang out from a distant tree line; the round tracing a wide right parallel to the column of marines. In an instant Mort and the rest of the squad were in the prone position scanning their sectors of fire as if it were instinct. Just as much instinct were the orders that immediately poured forth with vigor from the veteran squad leader Sargent Mendoza. `` Mort get your fucking 240 up to the front and scan that tree line! When Mort is set the rest of us will move behind the berm to our 10 o'clock.'' 
 
 Immediately Lance Corporal Mort began the 150 meter sprint to the front of the column, looking intently as he ran for some micro terrain to provide him with a good fighting position. As Mort neared the point man, the approaching trees erupted with the thunder of machine gun fire. The incoming rounds snapped into the dirt before him, appearing in the ground as rain does on a pond. As he traversed the timber line with vicious bursts from his M240B mort could only hear the rhythm of the machine-gun's bolt, as his squad ran to their prescribed fighting position. 
 
 Upon the provision of his squad's suppression Mort ran to join them on the small dirt berm. The world went altogether quiet. Mort only saw dirt before him as he tried to wipe the sweat and grime from his eyes below his sunglasses. A sharp tone came suddenly to his ears. Then as if he were hearing for the first time, the audio of the chaos registered in Mort's brain. He could hear his friend's desperate cry for a corpsman, and his sergeant yelling `` God dammit Mort, fucking establish fucking fire superiority. Where the fuck is my 240?'' 
 
 Six hours later the squad made the hump back to the patrol base they had left from, nearly out of ammo and completely devoid of thought the men walked behind the tanks as if they were dead. The world around Mort no longer registered in his mind, shapes did not constitute objects and colors went unnoticed as if he were in a dream. No inner dialogue played in his mind, although he giggled every now and again, but he could n't contemplate the why behind the laughter. 
 
 As Mort walked through the breached wall of the patrol base he was grasped tightly in a hug from his First Sargent. `` Mort, I love you buddy. If you ever need to talk I'm always here.'' The First Sargent sat him down under a well pump, the cool water felt familiar and comforting. As he sat down beside Mort he lit two American cigarettes and handed one over to Mort. `` Are Fergie and Alex okay?'' Mort asked looking off into the distance. The First Sargent shook his head ever so slightly. `` Mendoza and Ferguson will live on forever Lance Corporal.''
