Holding Their Own: A Story of Survival by Joe Nobody Read Free Book Online

Humvee and seeing combat boots landing step by precious step on both sides of his head. Two Marines were dragging him away from the kill zone. They pulled him behind a low wall where a corpsman started looking him over.
    Once the corpsman had verified that Bishop was both unharmed and one of the luckiest people he had ever met, Bishop drained three full bottles of water. With his senses recovering, he started slowly wandering around . The Marines were waiting on their CO to fly in on a bird so that a full report could be made. So the Chicken Shit Syndrome is not unique to the Army , he thought. The lieutenant in charge of the convoy appeared at Bishop’s side to check if he were okay. Bishop asked, “What the hell was that all about, Lieutenant? What happened?”
    “The terrorists have a new trick; Division calls them improvised explosive devices or IEDs. They take old artillery shells and make bombs out them. Most times, they plant them next to the road and wait for us to go by. Every now and then, like today, they get real clever and lob a few mortar shells or have a sniper fire rounds at us right after the detonation. They have no chance against us in a stand-up gunfight, so they are doing this shit to break us down.” He thanked Bishop for pulling his man out of the fire and proceeded elsewhere to take care of business.
    It was then that Bishop realized he had not seen the young corporal who did the Bush imitations and went to find him . Bishop approached the gunny and asked where the kid was. The gunny gave him an odd look and said, “You pulled half of him out of that Humvee, sir. He rests in that bag over there.”
    Everything became clear in Bishop’s mind . He remembered asking Spider where all of the people had gone, and then the explosion occurred. He looked back along their route where people had already returned to their shops and stalls along the street. He then thought about the obvious effort required to plant the roadside bomb and then walk off the distance for the mortar crew. All of those people back there could not have missed seeing that bomb being buried or the terrorists counting steps as they walked away. He glanced over at the half-full body bag, and his rage boiled over.
    He grabbed his rifle and began walking toward the Iraqi people on the street. He began shouting at the top of his lungs, “ You knew! You rotten fuckers, you knew! Why didn’t you warn us? I’m going to kill every last one of you fuckers! A hundred of you bitches are not worth that kid!”
    Bishop was pulling his rifle up to his shoulder when a very large hand grabbed the weapon and spun him around . It was the gunny, and he calmly said, “Sir, you’re not going to kill anyone with that weapon. You don’t have a magazine in it.” Bishop just blinked as it took a second to comprehend. He looked down at his M4 and broke out laughing. It was empty and as dangerous as a baby rattle. The nervous laughter was contagious, and a few nearby Marines got a good chuckle as well. He shrugged his shoulders and headed back to find Spider. He wanted to know when they were going to blow this pop-stand.
     

The Double Tap
    In the parking garage across from the hospital a news crew had been setting up cameras to cover the riot . A wide pillar had deflected most of the blast wave, and a camera ended up pointed at Bishop and Rita lying in the street. The picture was beamed back to the station for several minutes as the crew was too disoriented to realize they were broadcasting live. The picture of an elderly woman lying disheveled in the street with a man half-draped over her gurney was one of those rare images that would change history. The live footage was broadcast throughout the world. A single frame would be published in all of the major newspapers over the next few days.
     
    As Bishop’s head began to clear the cobwebs, he checked his body for major injury. He had enough presence to slowly flex and move everything to see what