Bait

This past weekend I was in Philly and was at a Warrior Writers workshop, here is one of the things I wrote:

OP-ORDER: Transfer prisoners from FOB Abu Ghraib to FOB Warhorse.

…Ahhh shit, not again… last week we got ambushed doing the same mission. Sgt. Carter’s truck fot hit by an RPG, we probably killed 20 Iraqis…

“Schrader, you’re the only one in the platoon with a 5-ton liscense. You’re driving, the big boy… Sorry, there’s no armor on it, but we’ll give you McCray and a 50 cal., we’re picking up about 30 Iraqi prisoners.”

…Fuck… Oh well…

Mission pick up a bunch of insurgents with Fuckin A McCray as my gunner…

We made it to Abu Ghraib with no problems… Not sure why Capt’n Jimmy James (AKA James James… moron), and Top came along… Though they were chuckling something about trigger time… naw…

“Let’s go to Victory, to the Big PX” …As if it’s a treat, since it was on that route that we got ambushed last week… “load up all the vehicles,” “wait, why the 5-ton?”

…And then it hits me, I’M THE BAIT… They did come for trigger time, and why not bring along a 5 ton to give the Iraqi’s something to shoot at…

We pass the place where we were ambushed the week before with no incident. My blood begins to boil. Everyone shops while I sit in the 5-ton chain smoking Marlboro Reds… Time to head back to Abu Ghraib. We seem to be going slower than before, my temperature rises even more. Safe again, and back at Abu Ghraib.

“Looks like we’re only taking back 2 prisoners.”

I explode, “What the Fuck? Two Fucking prisoners?” My platoon Sgt. knows why I’m angry and takes the brunt of my anger, “Your telling me those fucking cocksuckers couldn’t have called ahead and the whole time I was just bait for their fucking trigger time? Fuck them, fuck the Army, fuck this mission, and fuck this fucking place…"