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So yesterday we head out to our vehicle, and we're waiting for the mission to start, just hanging out on the ramp that opens from the back
Then we this bird that has nested on the back of it. A goddamn bird. We point it out to our First Sergeant who is like
"What's wrong with you, bird?
Are you oblivious to the fact that we are killers?"
Then my platoon sergeant grabs its nest (It flew a ways away without protest) and put it on a barrier nearby so that its eggs wouldn't break after we drove off. We took pictures first, of course.
Six hours later, we're parked in the middle of nowhere watching this road. We're inside the vehicle. My platoon sergeant is watching the road via the camera attached to our .50 that's mounted on top. Basically he can see from the point of view of the gun, with up to 25x magnification, and control the gun remotely from inside.
Then we see these two guys on a motorcycle driving down the road. They stop, and one of them drops something, about the size of a cricket ball, in a ditch on the side of the road. Then he kneels down for a few seconds. Then they drive off the road to a herd of goats, apparently theirs. They both have rifles. One AK, the other some kind of bolt-action rifle. Not unusual, they need to protect their goats.
My platoon sergeant, however, decides we're going to check out the ditch. Not an unreasonable decision. I grab my dismount bag and we go, just me and him. Our First Sergeant and the driver stay with the vehicle.
(A dismount bag is like a lightened aid bag; it's enough medical supplies so that if someone gets really badly hurt, I can keep them alive long enough to get them to the vehicle and to my aid bag which has most of my supplies in it. The aid bag is just too heavy to carry on dismount patrols.)
We each take one side of the road and start walking. We get to the ditch and slowly approach it, we had to be pretty much on top of it to see inside. Nothing. Whatever the dude dropped, he took with him. We look over at them. We're closer to them now, less than two hundred yards. They're just standing in the field, watching the goats. They wave at us. We wave back. We go back to the vehicle.
As my platoon sergeant gets back on board, I tell him I'm going to take a leak. So I walk to the side of the vehicle, unbutton my pants and start pissing in the dirt. I sling my rifle over my shoulder to get it out of the way. On my back, I still have my dismount back, marked with a white cross made of medical tape. I don't normally have that there, for obvious reasons, but the First Sergeant had an identical backpack so I marked it to eliminate any confusion.
So I'm standing there, peeing, when suddenly the dust kicks up around my feet. My first thought is, you know, what the fuck is that. Then I realize those motherfuckers are shooting at me. I look over my shoulder; they're pretty far, now, probably about 550 meters, but I can see from the glare on the guy's scope that he's resting his rifle on the bike and just shot at me. The guy with the AK is standing next to him like a retard.
My next thought is: my rifle is on my back, shit. No, wait, my next thought is: I'm peeing, shit. Then the rifle thing.
As soon as I realize I'm getting shot at, I also realized that his next shot probably won't miss, and if his first one just hit the dirt then he's probably already loaded his second round. So I start to move. I can't do that very well because my pants are unbuttoned and my belt unfasted, but I just try to move around a bit so he can't adjust his next shot properly, all the while trying to maintain control of my dick which is now uncontrollably spraying pee everywhere. My other hand instinctively and ineffectually grabs my rifle and fires wildly in their general direction. I get my dick under control and kneel down and raise my rifle to get a bead on them.
Now I'm looking at them through my optic and the spotter is standing up, starting to get back on the bike. The shooter, it seems, wants to take another shot at me so I just fire several more (aimed, this time) shots at him. I don't think I hit him, I think I hit the bike, at least, because he falls backwards, probably trying to take cover. Hit or not, he's down and neither shooting at me nor a very good target. The spotter is standing straight up, though. I took a shot at him that I knew wouldn't miss: the sub-navel shot. He was a good distance away so I put my sight around where his knees would have been, behind the bike, and fired. He keeled forward in a way that there was no mistaking it was a good hit, right in his gut.
So I'm kneeling there watching for any more movement. Then my ears get ripped apart by the machine gun on top of the vehicle opening up on the dudes. Both guys, bike, whatever it was they dropped earlier, and a couple of nearby goats, ripped the fuck apart.
So, yeah, that's my story for the day. Shooting at a guy while he's peeing. Who does that?