Time of War [IC]

Operation: Blue Shield
101st Airborne Division, 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment (PIR)

"The Landing"

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Staff Sergeant Darien Wade shifted nervously in his seat, glancing at each of the faces that occupied the seats beside him. They had, like him, all attended basic training and had some experienced parachuting. But that had only been practice in a safe, controlled environment. War was chaos and it certainly wasn't safe. He worried that the more inexperienced troopers wouldn't be ready when they jumped, and when they landed, they'd have to start coping with more casualties than the ones that had been predicted by Osean Command. Between the lack of manpower, the disarray the men would be in and the Estovakians, the Airborne would have their hands full.

If nothing else though, at least they'd have the element of surprise. While the Estovakians likely had some anti-aircraft emplacements to protect themselves for air raids, Darien had to wonder how would they react when they saw men jumping out of what they would assume to be bombers. He hoped they would be confused, confused long enough for the paratroopers to be regroup.

As if on cue, the fleet of Skytrains suddenly began to take fire from the ground. The Lieutenant informed them they were now approaching the drop zone. Ominous red lights flickered on, off and then on again as the paratroopers got into the ready position. Every passing minute suddenly began to feel like hours. The tension was palpable.

"Equipment check!" The Lieutenant's shout echoed through the C-47 Skytrain. Darien looked over what he would be dropping with, double checking his weapons. He had always enjoyed the feel of firing a fully automatic weapon and was overjoyed when they issued him the M1A1 Thompson. He was less than satisfied with the rest of his equipment, mostly because there were was so much of it. Toothbrush, gasmask, goggles, rope, rations, first aid kit. What wasn't he taking into battle?

"Two ok!" He called out when it was his turn. Without warning the plane was suddenly riddled with armor-piercing rounds and through one of the windows, Darien saw the left engine burst into flames.

"Go! Get off! Jump!" The pilots called out to them. As Darien walked up to the door, any second thoughts he had about jumping had to vanish. Whether he wanted to jump or not, with the Skytrain being engulfed in fire, he didn't really have the luxury of deciding anymore. It now was do or die, and Darien wasn't about to die. With these thoughts fresh in his mind, the Sergeant stepped off the plane.

Corporal Rothenberg remained calmly seated throughout the majority of his flight, maintaining his bearing and occasionally checking his weapon to help pass the time. This would be his first jump into open combat, and the determining mission for whether this unit could work. He saw one of two things happening: either the mission would be a great success and this was the beginning of a new type of warfare, or they'd all be corpses by the time they hit the ground, and soldiers entering combat from planes would never be discussed again. Shifting uncomfortably, the Corporal hoped it was the former and that he'd actually have a chance to fight if he were going to die. Sighing, he finished his weapon check and mentally prepared himself.

When the armor-piercing rounds began cutting through the plane, John was the first to get up and haul himself over to the open door. As the First Sergeant passed him and made the call to jump, John followed him out the door immediately, his BAR in hands and a deadly serious look on his face. This was the moment of truth. His life was now in the hands of anti-aircraft gunners on the ground. He just hoped they were bad at their job.

Sergeant Steel sat in the seat waiting. He leaned his head against the fuselage behind him closing his eyes picturing his young wife back home and happier times. He wasn't sleeping, but resting his eyes. The noise of the twin Pratt & Whitney engines droned out the chance of any conversation inside the bay. It was loud. Waiting. Always waiting. The bane of soldiers everywhere to hurry up and wait.

Another sound brought Jackson Steel back to the here and now. Flak arced up into the sky searching for lumbering C47 Skytrains, filled with soldiers to tickle. The streams of hot bright lead searched the skies for the aircraft. The platoon sergeant yelled for everyone to stand. Bullets pierced the fuselage. The red light was on but the green light had not yet come on. Twenty one soldiers, half of 1st Platoon, B Company, 1st Battalion, 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment stood in the aircraft waiting to go.

The platoon sergeant assumed the role of Jumpmaster and began going through the commands. The Flak shredded one of those droning Pratt & Whitney engines that helps to keep three tons of steel and two and a half tons of human flesh flying. Without those large radial engines, gravity takes over in the physics department.

"Go! Get off! Jump!" Someone from the flight crew called to the soldiers of the Screaming Eagles, 101st Airborne Division. No one waited for a written invitation. The Platoon Sergeant and Corporal Rothenberg hit the silk. Several others went out before it was Jackson's turn. He saw the platoon sergeant's face just before he hit the door. His expression was grim. Jackson took a glance back just before stepping outside. The pilot's cabin was engulfed in flames. The crew wasn't getting out.

Jackson rushed to the door and threw his body out into the wind. He faced toward the rear of the aircraft. The heat of the prop wash pushed him back farther, flames tickling his helmet. He assumed a good Parachute Landing Fall (PLF) position with feet and knees together and arms wrapped around the front of his torso. The static line ripped his parachute out of his back. 'thousand one, thousand two, thousand three, thousand four,' Sergeant Steel counted to thousand four as they were instructed in jump school. Then he looked up to check his rigging and parachute. The Army does not use blue or in this case black patches to fix holes in parachutes. Fortunately, all he saw was the big beautiful white parachute keeping him aloft.

Time of the jump was zero one thirty five hours or in infantry parlance, Zero Dark Thirty. He kept his feet and knees together and looked down at the ground. It came up at him quickly, splash! He executed his PLF into the water. The silk chute soaked up the water pretty quick. Luckily the water was only two feet deep. Apparently the Estovakians had flooded the fields. Sergeant Steel quickly removed his jump harness and Mae West also known as life preserver vest.

He gathered his equipment, pulling out his Thompson submachine gun ensuring he had a 30-round magazine in the well. He looked around, found the platoon sergeant, Corporal Rothenberg, Corporal Washington, PFCs Hawke and Croshaw were all there along with a few others getting their gear ready to move out.

Hawke sat in the plane staring off into space, running through the procedures in his mind and listening to a tune the soldier next to him was humming to keep calm. When the time came he got into position and then the Lieutenant shouted out for the equipment check. Quickly, Hawke did a quick check on the equipment he would be going down with, an M1 Garand with enough ammo to last, a couple grenades, and a few other essentials and nonessentials. "Five, ready!" While he'd rather have a MG on him, he'll have to wait until they got to one of the supply gliders or took one from the enemy.

He called out when he was finished, then came the ground fire tearing through the plane and lighting up one of the engines that kept this metal tube in the air. As though that weren't enough a round came through the floor next to his boot and went up through the top.

Right after that the pilots gave the order to go, either it was because they managed to reach the drop zone or the plane was about to go down. Either way it didn't matter, it was time to get a move on. When it came his turn Hawke ran through in his mind what to do and more or less through himself out the door into the open air.

Tension was high. Corporal Washington had never experienced anything like this. She had trained for it of course, but training just couldn't fully prepare her. She made sure her gear was nice and secure as well as her weapon.

The platoon sergeant was talking, but it seemed more like just a buzzing in her ears. Then there was the sound of metal tearing and smoke billowing around their plane. A heat blasted across her back causing her to turn her head. There was a fire at the cockpit.

Then the soldiers were leaping out. White parachutes came open across the sky and then she stepped out as well. The cold air gave her goose pimples and caused her to suck in a deep breath. Her parachute came open causing her quick descent to jerk her back. She slowly drifted to the ground bending her knees and rolling as she hit the soft wet dirt. She dropped the parachute pack and checked herself. Everything was where it needed to be. Her head raised and she saw she had managed to stay with her platoon.

The sound of AA and AAA was familiar, but hearing the sounds from within the plane they were targeting sent chills down Sandra's spine. And before she could think that they were bound to be hit, they were. She got up as someone yelled for everyone to jump, and watched as, one by one the men and women inside the Skytrain jumped.

Heights weren't her thing, but something in her mind didn't make her stop to just look down at the ground. And before she knew it she was falling towards the ground. She pulled the rip cord and her parachute jerked her back as it opened.

She landed in muddy field, a nice landing spot. She cleaned some of the mud off the moving parts of her gun, even though a jam was possible when the mud dried, it was less likely to happen now with most of the mud off. She'd clean the rest off later when danger from possible closing enemies was less imminent. She looked around and saw a few other soldiers from her platoon were nearby, Corporal Washington being the closest to her.

Staff Sergeant Wade's landing was not a clean one, for when he came crashing into the ground, he did so in a pool of mud. He barely had time to worry about the status of what was once dry clothes though as he looked around and took in his surroundings.

He had landed with a solid number of his chalk, but one vital member of the platoon was missing; the platoon commander, First Lieutenant Kenneth Roman. He had expected to land near the other half of the platoon, or at least relatively close to them, but he had no idea where they were in relation to Wade's position. Some other troopers in the chalk were missing, Kenneth wasn't the only one, and there was undoubtedly some supplies and pieces of equipment that had been lost during the drop. In addition to everything, they hadn't exactly dropped in the best spot possible. The immediate area was a clearing within a sparse forest and any Estovakian patrol that found them would have a few easy targets to shoot at. He decided that moving the paratroopers into better cover would take top priority for now.

"First platoon, on me!" Wade collected himself and ordered. After taking point and leading the paratroopers a few meters into the forest, Wade had everyone dig in but Corporal Washington, an experienced scout, and Sergeant Steel, his temporary second in command. Meeting with these two, he gave them the low-down of their situation.

"A few of us must have missed the drop zone and I didn't see chalk two on the way down, but we don't have the time to wait for them. Estovakian patrols are going to be snooping around here soon and I don't intend on staying here long enough for them to find us. We're going to head towards the rally point at the town of Kosovo, hopefully we'll meet everyone else there. Washington, take Hawkes and scout up ahead of us as we move out, give us the heads up. If you two don't have any questions, go ahead Corporal and take Hawkes with you, but be sure you don't wander off too far ahead of us. Sergeant pass the word that we are moving towards Kosovo through the squad and see if you can get a BAR team up."

Sergeant Steel pulled himself out of the water. It was mighty cold. He jumped up and down a few times to warm up. He gathered everyone up and did a quick silent headcount and a quick inventory of what weapon systems were available.

"Sergeant Wade," Jackson Steel addressed the Platoon Sergeant. "Twelve of us made it. It appears we are at least five miles off our intended drop zone. That flak was intense. We have two BARs available. We'll follow your lead, Sergeant."

John braced himself for the landing, cursing as his body splashed into the water, his clothing quickly being soaked. He made an attempt to get up but slipped in the mud, submerging himself completely in the chilling water. Grabbing his BAR, which had fallen from his grip as he slipped, John righted himself, removing his jump harness and vest, tossing them aside, frustration clear on his face as he grumbled below his breath. "Course we gotta land in the freakin middle of ice lake. Nothing better for a soldier in an experimental unit on a dangerous mission than to get chilled and soaked to the bone before the mission has even started." Making sure to clear his weapon of any mud, the Corporal moved to regroup with the others, a tired look crossing his face. He grew up in a rather warm climate, so the intense cold left behind by the water was especially jarring and alien to him. He could handle it, of course, but it would throw him off for the first half-hour or so of the mission.

As he listened to the Sergeants converse, John nodded his head when Sergeant Steel mentioned their available BAR's. "I'll keep their heads down if ya need me to, Sarge. Just give me a holler."

The sounds of battle were all around though it seemed the platoon remained out of harms way for now. Corporal Washington moved into the trees and held her m1 at a angle towards the ground. She listened to the orders giving a nod every so often.

"Yes sergeant." She finally said and pulled her pack around retrieving a compass and map from it. She looked back up and tilted her head somewhat, her blonde bangs falling out from under her helmet. "And if we run into enemy forces?" She asked curiously.