Loosing Faith

      Losing Faith

Suzanne Marsh

The five man recon team, their tents billowing in the wind and snow, atop Mount Delani watched in silence and fear. Fear had now become their constant companion. Their assignment was to keep an eye on the Russians; rumors were flying out of the Kremlin, quickly, that there was going to be an imminent invasion of the United States. For days they had been watching and waiting; wondering why? The larger issue was that if the Russians invaded the United States it would be a simple matter geographically. Thus far things had been quiet; to quiet. The team hunkered back down in their tents; hoping that today they would finally be extracted; they hoped at least one chopper would fly over today and make a food drop. They were out of dried meals completely, cereal and peanut butter. Time seemed to stand still most of the time. The excitement had been a bald eagle that attacked Private Jace Monroe. They never did figure out why the eagle attacked Monroe but it made a dull day into a rather exciting one; at least for a short while.

Corporal Clay Foster centered his focus on a small column of men he had not noticed before:

“Hey Jace, go get Captain Maxwell I think he better see this. NOW!! THAT IS AN ORDER. Foster followed the troop movements into the valley below. Foster jogged along the snow cliffs; toward Captain John T. Maxwell’s tent. Corporal Foster waited, stomping his feet to stay warm:

“Yes Corporal Foster.”

“Sir Private Jace Monroe has noted two columns of men with odd insignia patches on jackets.”

“Okay Corporal, what is different about the insignias.”

“Sir, Captain Maxwell; the first one we spotted had one gray star on a green base, it didn’t

look like any of ours sir.”

Quickly, Captain Maxwell thumbed through a book of Russian insignias:

“Corporal is this the insigina Coroporal Foster and you noted?”

“Yes, sir, it is.”

“That is the insigina of a Major General. I will get on the horn with headquarters. Dismissed.”

Captain John T. Maxwell placed the call to headquarters:

“we have spotted Russians with a Major General out front of two columns.

What do you advise, over?”

“Captain, get the hell out of there. We will extract your team after darkness tonight.

In the meantime, take note of the size of the columns and where they are moving to.

Over.”

“Yes sir, consider it done.”

Maxwell trotted over to where Foster and Monroe stood with binoculars watching. Maxwell, shook his head as if to clear it: ‘I wonder what in the hell the Russians are doing on our side unless they are invading out country. I sure hope not...this could mean World War III. Damn those Russians, they are sneaky bastards. It is a shame we can’t shoot the bastards at will. They don’t belong here on American soil.’

Time seemed to stand still for the recon team; waiting for extraction before the enemy noticed them; no food or water. Why did the military do that? They needed food to survive and they had none left. Extraction was promised before the Russians could capture them; at least they hoped that was the plan. The cold numbed their bodies as they watched the Russians move closer to where the team was hidden. There were almost two hundred Russians on this expedition to the five man American team.

Captain Maxwell watched with great trepidition; numbers never scared him but if Russia was invading the United States World War III could happen immediately.

The wind began to pick up, twirlling snow,blinding both sides. Maxwell knew they could not be extracted today. The question upper most in his mind was; did he move the recon team higher up Mount Delani or sit tight and hope the Russians took some other way to the crest of the mountain. He knew his men were loosing faith in his leadership and in their country. The feeling of being abandoned was something he had been hearing over and over again since this assignment began three weeks ago. This just added more fuel to the fire that was already burning.

Time was now of the essenses; Maxwell determined that they needed to move before the Russians accidently saw movement, where there should not be any. He gathered the team together:

“Okay, we know the Russian have began an invasion, we don’t know why. We are going

to gather everything and move to the next ridge over where we can observe without

being observed.”

Private Robert Gregg rose:

“Captain, when are we going to extracted? I don’t understand why we are being abandoned.”

“Private we are not being abandoned at the present time the weather is not conducive to

flight operations. So for now we stay here, we observe movement. Any other questions?”

Specialist fourth class John Tuttle inquired:

“Sir, the radio is having some sort of issue, I think the Russians may be trying to triangulat

our location. We should stay off the radio except at night Sir.”

“Yes Tuttle, I agree completely. Now, lets move out men.”

The movement took them longer than expected. The snow was knee deep, swirling and dancing. The icy artic wind continued to blow; making movement of any type difficult. The team trudged on toward the next ridge. Once there, they set up a new command post, tents. There would be no cooking, smoke would draw the attention of the Russian invaders. It was going to be a long cold several days.

Once each night a 23:59 hours they radioed their position in hopes that they would be rescued. It seemed to the enlisted men that they were going to be left there to die either murdered by the Russians or they would freeze to death on top of Mount Delani. They were Marines and they would suck it up! Semper Fi. Time dragged during the day as the Russians trudged up the slopes and down, knowing that the Marines were on the same mountain somewhere close by. The question was once they captured them would it be wiser to send them to Siberia to prison or Moscow. Then in turn the Russians would have to answer to the world and in particular the United States, they were after all at war with the United States. This war was a long time in coming but finally the President of Russia decided to invade. The Russian soldiers had no desire to fight their counter parts but a good soldier does what he is told. The Russians carried Vityaz-SN machine gun, one of the newest in their arsenal.

23:59 hours

Maxwell began his transmission:

“The Russians know we are here. We are desperate, we are low on food and amunition. The Russians are here repeat the Russians are here.”

Maxwell grabbed his Ka-bar knife and M27 Ingantry Automatic Rifle. The recon team began firing on the Russians. It was a slaughter four out of the five recon team members were dead. Maxwell somehow had been spared. He ran and hid in a cave there was nothing else he could do. He now understood the feelings his squad had been feeling. He had no more faith in the United States nor did he have any faith in the Marine Corp to rescue him. His men were dead. His country would vanish under Russian rule.