Today was the day that Sergeant McKay and the rest of his squadron would go to a base in Yuma. After two weeks there, they would board a plane that was going to Afghanistan. He was up the whole last night, unable to sleep because of his fears for his family and himself. For about the hundred and first time that night, he looked at the clock, which read 5:47. Thirteen minutes slowly ticked by until the clock went off with its beeping. Anxious to turn it off, McKay pressed the button and got out of bed. A quick shower and coffee for breakfast before he made his final calls to tell everyone goodbye. He made one final call to his parents, reassuring them of his return. Next he called his best friend John, telling him that he would miss him. After, McKay hastily finished packing his duffel bag and Alice Pack. The hardest part of the morning was about to begin: telling his family goodbye. He started with his youngest son, only three years old, and ended with his rebellious teenage daughter. He told them all to support their mom and be strong for him. Next he moved his duffel and Alice Pack by the door, almost ready to go. It was now time to say goodbye to his wife. They embraced with tears in their eyes and he stepped outside. Turned around and saluted, then walked out and into the car that took him to the base.
	Three hours later, he arrived in Yuma, where he would see his comrades again. In the Attack Squadron 311, they had a special greeting consisting of a handshake, then a knuckle bump, and a light punch on the left arm. His five friends greeted him and then let him go to his barracks and put his bags down. There was no hurry to do anything today, so he lay down and took a light nap, still tired from not sleeping last night. It was only 20 minutes before his buddies came into his room wondering where he was. Slightly unhappy to be woken up so briefly, he was a little curt when first talking to them. Fortunately, he soon regained his temper and walked with them to the Chow Hall. While eating a cheeseburger with lettuce and tomatoes, he caught up with his squad. A slight tinge of sadness touched him, as he was unable to talk Private Webber, a person who didn’t make it back from the last tour. However, he tried to put it past him as Corporal Rapp talked about sports, 1st Class Private Rich talked about his bikes, and Staff Sergeant Quinn spoke of his son being accepted to a college out of state. McKay also listened intently to Sergeant 1st Class Reynolds and Sergeant Griggs ramble on about their deep sea fishing trip in the Bahamas. For the first time that day, McKay smiled to himself.
	The two weeks went by very fast as he was training hard for his future life in Afghanistan. It was a Sunday, and being a religious man himself, read Psalm 23 and prayed hard for his deliverance. At 0800 hours, they boarded the C-130 that would take them across the world to their new home. Having done two tours before this one, McKay knew that the butterflies in his stomach were just a routine during takeoff, and for that matter, the entire flight. To his right was Rapp, and to his left was Reynolds. In front of him were the rest of his group, Griggs, Rich, and Quinn. Down the row he could see many other Marines. He hoped that his face did not look as frightened as theirs. He held his straps tight as the aircraft gained speed. Slowly, they lifted off the ground and began to soar even higher. Glad to get the takeoff over with, McKay relaxed and tried to fall asleep. Unfortunately, the voices of the other Marines and the constant drone of the engines made it too hard to snooze, so McKay opened up a book. Between the five novels he had, he chose Of Mice and Men. 
      The hours slowly ticked by as McKay finished his first book, then started reading his next choice; Term Limits, by one of his favorite writers Vince Flynn. He read the first eight chapters, put the book down and tried to sleep again. As luck would have it, he was able to fall asleep and take a two and a half hour nap. He was then informed that they were a mere three hours away. He picked up on his story and read about how three of Congress’s dirtiest members were murdered with surgical precision. When the news was covering this the next day, they received a letter, presumed to be from the murderers, that they wanted reforms in the government. The letter ended with them saying that shall the government choose not to change, more murders would follow. McKay almost forgot the book was fiction, as he continued to read page after page. Breaking his focus on the book, the intercom told everyone that they were half an hour away. Putting his book away, he engaged in a conversation with Rapp. The half hour went by surprisingly fast as the giant C-130 landed on the runway.
      They had all arrived in Dublin. It was abnormally silent as the annoying hum of the engines stopped. They burned three hours in the airport as the plane refueled. McKay was very happy that he was able to walk around after sitting for ten hours and bought himself a coffee and some food in the airport. For most of the three hours, he walked around the airport exploring the restaurants and stores. In one of the stores, he bought a neck pillow that wrapped around his neck and a souvenir for one of his kids. He walked back to his terminal where a few other Marines were waiting to board. Ten minutes later, he was back in his seat and ready for the next 8 hours of his plane ride.
      It was 0645 hours when they arrived in Afghanistan. Unlike most of the soldiers, McKay’s neck was not sore because he had a neck supporter for when he dozed off. Exiting the plane, they were greeted by the commanding General of the area. General Hobb was a 6’4” man with a natural scowl on his face. If any made even the slightest mistake, he would boldly scorn a Marine or Marines for their actions and demand multiple push-ups and an explanation. Luckily, McKay did not worry about being punished because he was a very serious man for the most part. After a slight presentation of the area and its inhabitants, McKay brought his belongings to his barracks. In his duffle he pulled out a picture of his kids and wife and taped them onto the wall next to his bed. His eyes got a little misty after he looked at the pictures for a while. They were so happy in those pictures he thought, he wondered if they were happy right now…
      The weeks went by relatively fast. Most of the people on the same tour as him were very obedient, but there were a few exceptions. One time a 2nd Class Private O’Rourke played a practical joke on an officer and was punished for that. Another time a Sergeant Valinsky got in a fight with a Corporal Kint, both of them were busted by one rank lower. However, other than that, they were a peaceful group. They had taken out quite a few members of the Taliban and Al-Qaeda. They had also saved quite a few citizens lives by clearing the area of terrorist organizations. They were back at their base one-day when a patrol officer ran inside with a bullet wound across his chest. Luckily, most of the bullets were stopped because he was wearing a bulletproof vest. As he was being escorted to the medics, he demanded seeing General Hobb as soon as possible. The only words he said were that they were coming. “Who, son?” inquired Hobb. Before he was taken away, he said that it was a joint operation of Al-Qaeda and the Taliban, and they were coming fast.
      It was deadly quiet as the hairs on the back of everyone’s neck stood on end. Regaining composure, Hobb told everyone to get ready for a shoot-out. They grabbed their rifles, pistols, and ammo and all gathered into a room for a small brief by Hobb. He told everyone to stay calm, and take them out patiently. No one knew how many terrorists were coming but they all feared the worst. After a few more instructions, Hobb ended saying to fight for their lives, their family’s lives, and for the life of freedom!
      They all went outside and were in positions all around the base. The 5 snipers that they had were positioned on the rooftops of the buildings. They had two men on their 50-cal machine guns and about 30 other Marines, one being McKay, to cover the walls. They had medics inside to patch up any hurt man. Their comms man, Corporal MacMillan was also inside requesting for backup. Although none of them knew it now, the backup would be too late.
      The whole surrounding desert looked like it was covered in terrorists. They were in vehicles, on foot, and using whatever cover the earth offered them. Slowly, they started getting closer with each passing minute. McKay counted each terrorist that he dropped. He was at seven, and Rich and Griggs were at three and ten. Next to them Quinn and Reynolds were at seven and nine. Much like the mythical creature, the Hydra, whenever you killed one head, two would take his place, the numbers of the Taliban and Al-Qaeda only seemed to increase as more and more of them bit the dust. By now, three Marines had been hit, one in the head and the other two in the arm. McKay thought his ears might start bleeding. The extreme noise of the battlefield was overbearing to him. Ignoring it, he dropped two more men, he was at twelve now. Suddenly he felt like he had been punched hard, as he saw his right shoulder had been hit, and was now oozing blood. He tried to put it past him, but it was one of the most painful feelings he had ever felt. He set his gun against the wall and restricted the blood flow by covering it with his glove. Once inside, he told the medic Rapp that he needed the bullet extracted and bandaged so that he could go out and fight again. Over the advice of Rapp, McKay told him that it was an order and to fix him ASAP so that he could help support the other men.
      A painful ten minutes went by before McKay walked outside again. He then tried to retune his ears to the deafening explosions of the rifles. He jogged back to his position and picked up his rifle. McKay now shot with his left hand, not wanting to upset his bullet wound. It was very unnatural to him and made him miss more, but he still dropped more men. The enemy was only fifty yards away now. More Marines started getting hit now because of the close range. Rich went down first with a bullet through his neck. McKay tried not to look, as he knew it was too late for his friend. He covered for Griggs, who was able to take Rich inside. Men on both sides were dropping like flies. Griggs was back out now and shooting more terrorists. Now Quinn was helping Reynolds get inside, who had been shot in the wrist. With a cry of pain, Griggs was now down, shot in the cheek. Even though the enemy would probably breach the wall if he helped Griggs, McKay took the risk and ran him inside to the medics. Sprinting back outside he pick up his rifle again and unloaded every bullet in his clip. He counted at least five men went down with his blind firing. He put his last magazine into the gun and dropped another four. Now he ran to the spots where guns had been dropped and used those. A few men had already climbed the ten-foot wall surrounding the base. McKay targeted the ones that were already over until he ran out of ammo, arms feeling like jello from the heavy guns.
      Only ten Marines were left total, two of the snipers, General Hobb, McKay, Quinn, and a few others. Although many terrorists went down, they continued to vault the barrier between the base and the desert. McKay threw one of the men on the 50-cal guns and started holding down the trigger. McKay heard rotors of helicopters. In the distance, he saw three Twin-Hueys and his heart soared. Because he had to stand still while firing the mounted gun, McKay was a sitting duck. He felt many bullets hit his protected chest as he continued to fire round after round into the crowds of terrorists. McKay wasn’t counting the bodies that he dropped anymore, but he knew he was around sixty. With a searing pain in his kneecap, McKay fell down; he pulled the pistol out of his holster as he shot his rounds. Another shot to his arm made him stop and cry out. The last thing he saw before his world went black was the Hueys taking down the enemy.
      With the help of the attack helicopters, the Marines still won the battle. However, McKay did not make it back to his home in Arizona. The day his wife received the call was by far the worst of her life. At the funeral for all the fallen soldiers from the battle, Mrs. McKay received a folded up flag and a box of his medals. She embraced her kids as tears streamed down her eyes. “Don’t worry kids, Dad will always be with you. He will see you all grow up looking down from Heaven.”
An Honor Serving
6-8
p. 1