They trudged silently. Now 70 friggin’ pounds is a load … in 110 degree heat.
Corporal Henney was 20. Shapely. Women in the Marines, they said. Join, they said. She had joined. For no other reason than looking for action.
Corporal Jonas was 19. Loved Henney. But had never told her anything.
“Yo, Henney,” the sergeant called … “Check that mount at 3 o’clock… Jonas, go along…”
The mount was some 60 yards out. There was no wind. The sand was smooth, powdery.
Jonas had instinctively taken point. His head felt like it was on fire. He was sweating like he had never sweated before. But he pointed his M-16 at the mount and moved forward.
BOOOOOMMMMMOOOOOOM !!!
All hell had broken loose! Jonas felt a sharp pain in his right arm. He was flat on the ground, looking straight up into the sky obscured by a thick cloud of dust.
“Henney,” he screamed … “Henney, are ya aright….?”
He could see her on her side, sand around her head turning into a deep crimson.
“Henney,” he screamed, frantic…
Mount checked. Out.