"Shoot" hollered Willie B. "Where" I screamed. "Shoot, Shoot."
Screamed Willie B. Again. I clicked my rifle from safe to full auto
and let it rip in the direction of the tracers from the other two
guys. I fired one complete magazine. I had no idea what was
happening. I changed magazines. I buried my face in the dirt
attempting to make myself invisible. I was terrified. I lie there
cowering by hiding my face in the dirt. I had no idea what to do.
"Shoot" screamed Willie B. again . My rifle had a bi-pod attached
to the front of it as it was a select fire. (Semi or full auto). I
extended the bi-pod and again ripped off full auto rounds. My hands
and fingers were moving too slow. It was as if I was moving in slow
motion. I couldn't make my hands move any faster. I kept shooting
like the other two . At what, I had no idea. My heart was pumping
ninety miles an hour. I heard firing erupt from the NDP then stop.
A piece of hot brass hit me in the neck and went down my fatigue
shirt burning the hell out of me. I kept firing and trying to shake
the hot brass out of my shirt at the same time. I had fired six
magazines before I noticed the other two had stopped firing. I
errently touched the barrel of my rifle and got a burn that bubbled
up the skin. We all lie still. My mouth was so dry, I couldn't
swallow. I was shaking badly and couldn't catch my breath. Again, I
buried my face in the dirt in a futile attempt to escape. I didn't
like any of this. This wasn't at all like playing soldier in the
back yard as a kid.
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