A Sniper's Welcome

I first saw Lieutenant Wesley Stone as he jumped off the helicopter in the Province of Maysan, Iraq. We were assigned to this Marine Base for the same reason. We were there to become what we became.

We became a sniper team.

I knew Lt. Stone was going to be dropped that dark night. That’s why I was waiting out on the strip. The chopper brought him in with its lights out. I heard when his gear thudded to the pad. Mostly, it was only the outline of his body that I saw jump out of the darkened door. No sooner had he fallen to the ground than the chopper engine whine increased, and the big black banana rose into the air.

For a while, I continued to sit in the dark, listening to the dying sound of the propeller blades and watching what he would do. I well remembered how lonely it feels standing there in the dark with a gentle breeze shaking the pant’s fabric against your legs, knowing that you are in hostile country. He probably had been told not to wander off the landing pad. It’d be a pity to lose a brand new lieutenant in a mine field.

There was a good chance that if I just stood up without saying anything, he’d shoot me. Lt. Wesley Stone wouldn’t need but one shot. That’s why he was there.

I whistled. His rifle came up. I figured he’d not fire if I whistled his song. I stood as I started to whisper the words, “You’re a rambling wreck from Georgia Tech, but you’re not an engineer!”

“Stand where you are!” He yelled.

“I’m Sergeant Taylor, my good man. Born and raised a little north of Nashville. Educated at the University of North Carolina. We clobbered Georgia Tech 34 to 13 on last September 18.”

The tone of his voice had changed when he responded to my ribbing him about that football game. “You’re just giving me another reason to shoot you, Sergeant.”

“There is one more thing you should know, Lt. Stone. Corporal Morgan is under a tarp forty yards to your left. He’s got his M-16 A-4 with its magnified sight and night vision centered in the passage way of your left ear.”

“You’re damn right, sir.” Morgan confirmed his position.

“Shit! This is no fucking way to welcome the best shot this side of Baghdad.”

I walked up with my hand extended. “We’ll find out how good a shot you are when the sun comes up.” As I grasped his hand, I noted that his palm was damp. Curious that I should have noticed that.

We both turned as we heard the noise of Corporal Morgan getting up. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and tucked the tarp under his left arm.

Morgan extended his hand as he approach. “We’re glad to have you joining our team, sir.”

“Thank you, Cpl. Morgan. It has been a long journey getting here.”

“Sir,” Morgan went on. “I think I should tell you. You need to use a Q-tip on your left ear.” There was a smile in his voice.

For a while, the Lieutenant didn’t respond as we walked through the dark. Then, he reached over to rest his hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “Damn! My kind of unit!”

“Sir. Yes, sir,” Cpl. Morgan chuckled.