I feel the need to be knee deep in mud in the middle of an epic firefight. Grab R hunkered down in cover and be all “We can’t stay here and we can’t fall back………….we’re going through ’em” and seeing that frown and the sharp nod of agreement. Popping smoke, checking ammo and organising suppressing fire……..taking a breath and then mentally saying “fuck it, go” and then charging forward behind two and three round bursts. Sliding into a tree or a barricade with such force that I wonder if I haven’t broken something, ignoring the pain popping up putting down fire on anything and anywhere that looks like it could have someone sheltering behind it. Plato sliding in after me pulling out a grenade. That look, “on three” more fire, the explosion. “COME ON, MOVE!! FUCKING MOVE!!” The stragglers catch up, little flecks of yellow and green whizzing all around you, bursting off every object, slamming into whatever you’re hiding behind.

Everyone looks at each other, nothing is said, but everything is understood, in unison we rise putting down short deliberate bursts walking straight at them and then suddenly silence descends. Firefights start suddenly and end just the same and most of the time you see no one, everyone’s behind cover, well camouflaged, ten metres away and totally invisible. So you’re left there in the silence, watching down the sights, listening, listening, listening.  




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