Hearts and Mines by Russell Snyder

Author:Russell Snyder
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781612001173
Publisher: Casemate

Morning’s still-new light woke the exhausted Marines. We prepared to move on to the next village, Selifa. The previous day’s search had been largely unproductive, turning up no insurgents and only a few weapons, mainly just the rifles each household was allowed under Iraqi law for protection of their property. A few military-aged men we’d detained temporarily were allowed to return home after questioning to determine whether they had any knowledge of terrorist activities, none of which they admitted. I wondered how many of them really had taken up arms against us before, and simply chose to hide behind their women and children to wait out our siege of the village. If they were hiding something, the women protected them. No one ever seemed to know anything about anything.

Another platoon of Marines arrived from their patrol to join us in their Humvees and AAVs, clanking mechanically in file as the tanks led the way toward the river. Our column approached a T-intersection, turning left to follow the tanks past a row of large, expensive-looking houses.

“This looks like the rich neighborhood,” I said in admiration.

Suddenly an awesomely earsplitting explosion shook the earth. I ducked instinctively in the turret, then snapped back to see one of the twenty-six-ton AAVs that had been traveling behind us claw into the ground after being blown into the air by a massive bomb. It was engulfed in flames and a boiling black cloud of smoke issued furiously from the destroyed track. I heard a volley of shots but soon realized it was only the sound of ammunition exploding in the AAV, consumed within the oven it had become. My stomach turned somersaults into my throat. Dazed Marines fell out the back of the wreck. One of them was on fire. Burning ammunition popped erratically, accompanied by a metallic ping of shrapnel caroming inside the smoking hull. There were not enough Marines getting out. My face and hands buzzed sickeningly. Bile burned my throat as I helplessly watched Marines racing to drag the survivors away from the flames and flying bits of debris.

“What the fuck was that?” Cat yelled.

“Um … I think one of the tracks hit an IED,” I choked. “It’s pretty bad.”

The rest of the AAVs tore through the fields surrounding the village in a vain attempt to locate a triggerman, but if he’d ever been there, he was already gone.

The Marines had been robbed not only of their friends, but also of their opportunity for vengeance. We could do little else but wait for the medivacs to arrive in stunned silence. The huge, deathly black column of petroleum smoke still pouring from the track’s disgusting, warped shell ensured the helicopters would have no trouble finding us.

Frustration filled the faces of the Marines who guarded the entrance to the abandoned school that served as our rudimentary laager. Down the road the wreckage smoldered, no longer an inferno, but still too dangerous to permit retrieval of the remaining bodies trapped inside. An occasional pop-pop of exploding rounds proved just how intensely the residual heat glowed.

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