There were two instructors in the lower level near the stair case. They yelled at us through the green smoke and dust that came through the windows.
"Have some violence of action. You get up there and take that damn level NOW!", one of them said as us.
There was a firm knee to the back of my leg from my fire team leader, signaling me that it was time to move. I was going to be the first one up. I turned the corner and ran up the stairs.
This part of our training is called Military Operations in Urban Terrain, or MOUT. Not all wars are fought in the tree line. They are fought in the cities and towns of the world. War is now fought from house to house, door to door, and room by room. It is a critical part of the training we have here, as the potential for all of us to be conducting this kind of combat in the near future is very high.
The nasty part about this kind of warfare is that casualties are inevitable.You have approximately 2 second to move across a 50 foot square room. There is approximately 1 second to search for the target. And less than half a second to pull that trigger before he does. The disadvantage that the aggressor has;
They know exactly when you are entering from. The probability of the first and second man entering that door or hallway unscathed is very... very low.
But I tried not to think about that as I turned the corner and pointed my rifle up the stairway.
There were bodies. Must have been two or three laying on the stairs and up at the top. The 'dead' Lieutenants stood still. A training frag grenade lay on one of the steps, along with several discharged casings from the failed exchange to take the top level. I moved my boots as quickly as I could up the steps, trying to step over the bodies.
As I neared the edge of the second floor, I turned my direction up and behind me... just in time to see a rifle from a Combat Instructor (CI) pointing in my direction.
BANG-BANG-BANG
Blue paint splattered across my lens. I stopped on the stairs.The fire team leader behind me pushed me forward
"GO-GO-GO!!!", He yelled.
I stumbled up the stairs over the bodies as fast as I could while keeping my rifle up. More shots. I heard the rounds hit the wall behind me. There were several dull thuds and snaps as I got hit in the chest and in the arms. I made it to the top of the stairwell and over the last body. I looked up and scanned the hallway quickly.
There were three rooms. I saw two figures in desert camies dart into two of the far rooms. I ran into the first room without hesitating, rifle at the ready.
He was in the corner.
BANG-BANG
I shot twice at him. The paint rounds hit him in the leg. That didn't stop him from returning fire.
BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG
He shot at me as I moved along the wall to the left. He wouldn't stop firing. So... neither would I
I pulled the trigger until 'bangs' turned to 'clicks'. An entire magazine empty.
Then it hit me. Small concentrated areas of pain started to come from my left leg and right hand. I looked down. Blue paint covered my green cammies. Two paint balls had broken over my trigger hand. My chest had several blue spots.
"Go ahead and slouch against the wall," said the CI, "You've been wounded in the leg badly."
I slouched down below the window sill of the room. I tried to control my breathing, but the mask made it hard to do so. The adrenaline make my hands shake. The welts in my skin were already starting to pulse in pain.
"You ok man?" I asked him. He had several pink spots all over his arms.
"Ya, i'm alright." He responded.
"Dude, you wouldn't stop firing." I said
"Hey man, you were going to die first." he said.
"No... YOU were going to die first." I responded.
"We'll see if you don't die in the next couple of building's you have to clear." He said coldly.
The next attack, I didn't even make it into the front door.
So goes urban warfare.
Thanks for reading.
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