story by Donny, abortion written with help by skippy
One bright spring day our platoon was tasked with some combat training. specifically we were assigned to attack a fake village that would be populated with other soldiers pretending to be third world residents. Our goal was to neutralize HVTs. For the benefit of the non-military readers an HVT is a High Value Target. In other words the guys that we want to do bad things to.
The training village was a cluster of six buildings, illness ranging is size from a small single room dwelling to a large 2 story house. This building was practically a mansion by the standards of the other buildings, shop with several interconnected rooms. There was even an escape tunnel leading out of the village.
These buildings, like all urban combat simulators were constructed with thick slabs of concrete, to create a maximum of durabilty with a minimum of cost. Which are two desirable features for a building if you plan on letting soldiers run amok without any serious adult supervision.
My squad was the main effort, and so the large two story building was our target. We dismounted our Bradleys, sprinted to the building, and entered through a window. As we climbed the stairs we encountered light enemy resistance, which we quickly and professionally put down.
Once on the second floor, we began clearing all of the rooms. Within a short period of time we had swept through the area, and had already captured or killed every HVT except for one. And we only had one room left to check.
So my squad stacked up and I got the be the breacher. Again for the non-military types here, a breacher is the guy who gets the break the door down. As soon as he does that everyone else runs in, the goal being to put as many soldiers through the door as quickly as possible.
So I forced the door and watched my squad storm in to the sound of gunfire. As I tried to join them in the assault I collided with a team-mate who was standing in the doorway laughing. Despite the clear presence of an armed hostile my squad instead of opening fire, was doubling over with laughter. Feeling disgruntled I shoved my way into the room while shouting “What the hell is so funny?”
And then I saw.
Remember how I mentioned the nice thick walls in this place? Well aside from being durable thick cement also blocks sounds. And so the nice Sergeant who was playing the role of enemy combatant had not heard the raid starting. And having been left with some privacy for a while, he decided to conduct a private “weapons inspection”.
He was in fact rather enthusiastically in the middle of said inspection when my squad, rather rudely, broke the door down and barged in.
Now to his credit, he was able to change gears, and weapons, rather quickly. He dropped his gun, grabbed his rifle, and began what could under the circumstance only be referred to as a valiant last stand.
Unfortunately for him he had been caught with his pants down, red handed as it were.
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