Albanian Rescue

I'm Specialist Mark Decker, just shy of making Sargent. My platoon was moving in to recover some captured US soldiers from a small village in the mountains near the border of Kosovo and Albania. These four guys were stationed inside Kosovo and were patrolling along the border of Albania when they got ambushed. The attackers, ethnic Albanians, had certainly gotten eager.

Getting to the edge of the forest nearest the village was easy, the next hundred yards was a little tricky. There was a gully along the side of the road, if you could call it that. Where the deep woods here were tall pines that hid almost everything in the shadows, the final stretch to the outpost was open ground. There was no cover or concealment except for a small gully along side of the road in.

We crawled through a frozen ditch dug along the side of the road. The ice cracked under us as we low crawled. Stones and shards of ice stabbed at me. Although they didn't cut into me, the cold made it feel so much worse. There was some water under the ice, it soaked through my uniform. My skin was so cold that I barely noticed the wetness.

There was a burnt out tank near the road going past this place and the small street along which all the buildings were situated. Clearing out these buildings and getting to the captured soldiers was our job. Once in position we waited and hoped. It was complete radio silence so we had to wait and not get noticed while the rest of the platoon moved into over watch positions.

The sky showed the first hints of daylight, time to move.. Leaping out of the ditch we made for the tank without getting spotted. A couple of smoke grenades were tossed, moments later the air was filled with swirling red, yellow, and green clouds. It looked like a giant tie dye.

Weapons were firing from up and down the street. We had to move. Two fire teams started laying down suppressive fire. How effective that is through smoke, I don't know. "Moving!" I shouted over the gunfire and the ran while crouching. We got to the first hut on the left and I bellowed out, "Here!" Our turn to cover their movement.

Kicking the door open I fired around the room while my battle buddy watched from the door. He gets to enter the next one. I smash a hand grenade through the window and wait until it explodes. Anyone who does not get killed in the blast gets stunned by the concussion. Sterling kicks the door in and sweeps the room with gunfire while I watched crouching at the door. A shadow of movement from the far corner and Sterling was down. He was fighting from his back to live. Running in I kicked the attacker in the ribs. He grunted as he rolled off Sterling. “Aim-Quick-Kill!” A voice shouted in my mind and that is precisely what I did. This was training and drilling coming together.

On and on through the smoke, dust, and gunfire we went. Gunfire from the smaller buildings had stopped. We stood there looking up at the walkway on this two level building. There was no way we could go in through the ground with that heavy machine gun going. Still, I tossed a grenade through the front window.

Meanwhile, Sterling had knelt down to give me a boost up to the walkway. As I was scrambling up there were some gunshots behind me. Sterling was yelling and there was automatic gunfire, both from a Soviet AK and the American AR-15. My leg felt as if it had been hit with a sledge hammer! Rolling from the edge and looking at my leg I saw the blood stain spreading. I had been shot.

Again, in my mind there was that instructor's voice yelling at me to pay attention and get my head in the game. It was only a few moments, maybe a second or two, and I was looking at Sterling,, he was down but not dead. He waved me on. The gunman was also laying there. It didn't matter if he was dead or not, he got another couple of rounds in him for good measure.

The body does some awesome things when in awful situations. The dopamine production and adrenaline had gone through the roof. Not only did the wound in my leg stop hurting, but it felt like I could take on the world and win. Checking my gear I had two grenades and three mags left.

“Drive on and accomplish the mission,” I said to myself. The glass on the windows had already been shot out. The grenade flew in through the opening and exploded inside. I jumped in through the open door and stepped to the side so as not to silhouette myself. I started to sweep the room with bullets when my weapon jammed. Swearing,

I started to clear the jammed round when, from behind a pile of sandbags, came an attacker. He charged me at full speed. The room was bigger than the ones we cleared on the street, but still not that big. He was on me in an instant, slamming me up against the wall. I slammed my knee hard into his chest. I kept doing this until his grip loosened enough that I could get an arm out and to my knife. I slammed the sharp point into the side of his neck. Once he fell to the floor I picked up my weapon, cleared the jam, and surveyed the situation. There were stairs leading down on the far side of the room.

Crouching down at the edge of the stairs I used a small metal mirror to look over and around the edge of the stairwell. There were several people in the room below and all with assault rifles. The heavy machine gun was either out of commission or of no use now that my platoon had gotten in so close. I could hear the US troops hollering. I couldn't use my last grenade on this room.

I crept down the stairs with my rifle against shoulder. Damn! Coming down these stairs hurts like hell. Oh yeah, I was shot in the leg. Some of the Albanians were in view. Each time I squeezed the trigger my rifle kicked into my shoulder a little. Two, three, four Albanians now lay on the floor dead.

Once I was on ground floor more of my platoon were coming up to the windows to survey the situation. The troops we were to rescue were hollering something. I couldn't hear them. Everything had gone silent. I could see that there were things going on around me. I could see my buddies were yelling, jumping, and pointing in slow motion. What were they pointing at? Spinning to look around me felt like I was moving through mud. In my peripheral vision there's another Albanian. He was coming out from behind another pile of sandbags. The pistol in his hand coughed smoke and jumped a little, and then again. I felt a searing heat in my side. Now, things started going black. The floor just smacked me in the face! I'm being rolled around. I see my Pocket Doc, but it's all fading into darkness.

My eyes open slightly. The room is white and it's bright. Am I in a hospital or dead? Suddenly, there's a nurse beside me, “Take it easy, honey. You've had a rough run. We almost lost you.” She was straightening my bed sheets.

“Sterling?” was the only thing I could say.

“He's fine now. The boys you recovered are fine. Now, don't you worry about anything, just rest.”

My eyes closed and I went back to sleep. Mission accomplished.