The War I Always Wanted by Brandon Friedman Read Free Book Online Page B

riverfront, stopped at a red light. You could rarely look to the sky in Shreveport and not see one. They were huge, powerful, and could carry nuclear weapons in their bomb bays. But they had always landed in a place I wasn’t allowed to go. Perhaps that’s why they hypnotized me.
    In middle school, my classmates and I had watched them return from the first Gulf War. On that day, they had done a fly-by of Shreveport, flying low and slow over the city to thecheers of thousands. In a strange coincidence, I was now watching one of the same planes that I had seen as a kid. Only now it was on an actual attack run.
    As I stared at it flying over the nearest ridge, I knew that it was seeing them, hearing their roar as an impressionable kid, that made me reply to the recruiter. Back then I hadn’t really known the difference between the Army and the Air Force, but I knew I wanted to be a part of it. Now I could feel them leading me again, this time into a battle. Still spellbound by their power, I followed willingly.
    As the plane flew out of sight, I dropped my gaze back to the jagged surroundings. Then I heard Captain K.: “Friedman, get us out of here.”
    Weighted down to a point that nearly buckled the knees, Sergeant Pascoe picked up his heading and we started south. We crested the bowl and began walking down a slight slope. As we walked down the hill, the sun dropped behind the high ground, leaving us in shadows.
    We trudged on in the twilight, listening to the constant thud of impacting bombs. Not ten minutes later I saw all the right arms in front of me lift in the L-shaped signal for a halt.
    â€œ1-6, this is 1-2, over.” It was Sergeant Reid. “You need to come up here and check this out.”
    I motioned to Taylor and we waddled to the front. Sergeant Pascoe stood facing south, overlooking a ravine two hundred feet across and probably fifty feet deep. Reid and Pascoe both looked at me. “Whaddya think, sir?” asked Sergeant Pascoe.
    My response was the response of any true leader in time of trouble: “Ahhh, fuck.”
    â€œWe could go through it, but I think we can skirt it to the left on that high ground,” he said pointing. “It’d take longer, but I think it’d be easier on everybody than the going up and down would be.”
    I looked at Sergeant Reid. “What do you think?” I asked.
    â€œI think Sergeant Pascoe’s right, sir. I think it’s a better idea to go around. I think that walking into that hole with all this weight would be a stupid idea.”
    â€œOkay,” I said. “I think you’re right. Keep moving around it. Let’s go.”
    As I knew it would, the company net came to life. “Sir, they wanna know what the holdup is,” Taylor informed me. I knew that was coming—it was what I’d wanted to avoid by making a quick decision.
    â€œTell ’em ‘no holdup.’ Tell ’em ‘we’re moving.’”
    â€œRoger, sir.”
    Sergeant Pascoe led the company in a slow, winding curve toward the edge of the ravine. Within minutes Captain K., known simply as “Six” on the radio, was calling on the company net. He was in the middle of the company formation, probably a hundred yards back.
    â€œ1-6, this is Six, you’re going the wrong way. Stop moving,” came the Voice over the net.
    â€œThis is 1-6, roger, we’re going around a large ravine. 1-2 and his team leader have a route picked out that we think’ll be quicker than going down into the low ground, over,” I explained.
    â€œRoger, stop moving. Your platoon is going the wrong way, over.”
    â€œRoger, I know. We’re moving around the ravine. Do youwant us go into it?” I asked.
    â€œ1-6, this Six, stop. You’re going the wrong way. You’re going east. We need to be headed south, over.”
    I looked from Taylor to Sergeant Reid to Sergeant Pascoe and back to Taylor. Holding