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the fallen of the war 1/2 (John/Gabriel)
John was wondering if signing up for the Marines and going to 'Nam had been his best idea. Probably not but now there was no going back. Even if he could have left without risking being shot or dragged in front of a court martial. No thank you. He might have been suicidal even coming here but he wasn't quite that suicidal.
To say the training had been hard would have been the understatement of the year. And that with a war going on. It was more like hell and he wasn't sure if Vietnam was going to be worse. At least there they wouldn't have to deal with an over eager and pissed off Drill Sergeant.
John had been good looking enough to be one of the favorite targets of his Supervisor. Always with the gay jokes and questions about his pretty face. He hadn't allowed it to get to close to him, had tried even harder and become even better.
In the end even his pissed of Sergeant had to admit John was good. He wasn't good in terms of doing everything perfect from the start but, once he had set his mind on something, he would follow through with it no matter what.
That was what had earned him the grudging respect of his CO. But that wasn't what had made him okay with his comrades. What had made him okay with them was that, even though the Drill Sergeant wasn't too fond of him, he had never angered him enough to let it fall back on the rest of them.
Not that they had been fond of him either but they had gotten along. Now he had a new platoon. However that would turn out...
"Okay, listen up you dumbasses! This is Johnny-Boy, he'll replace Jack who was nice enough to go crazy on us."
John growled lowly. He hated to be called Johnny but he really didn't want to be on the shitlist of the Sergeant on the first day. So he bit his tongue and glared at a palm tree for the lack of a better target. It was quite hard to ignore the laugh and the cheering of the other Marines but he had plenty of practice with it by now.
“Play nice guys, you don't wanna scare away the boot,” the Sergeant was far more cheerful than John found it appropriate to be in this shithole but he figured it was something that just happened when you served here too long.
He took a look at the short guy with the bright grin and wondered how the hell he had survived boot camp. He looked like the kind of guy that joked all the time and liked to make fun of people. Definitely not the type of guy that was the CO's favorite.
The guy – John had already forgotten his name – turned around to John and his grin widened even more as he saw John staring at him. Which probably wasn't the best way to start with your Sergeant either.
“Come on kiddo, I'll show you around,” he was already on the move leaving the group of soldiers he had just introduced John to behind, walking to a bunch of buildings that John remembered as the ammunition depot.
“C'mon, Slowpoke, I haven't got all day. Move your ass!” John decided he really hated the sergeant just for the nicknames he had given him in the five minutes since they had met.
But true to his promise, the Sergeant had shown John around, even though he had earned himself a couple of new nicknames. He really hoped none of them would stick. But for now the other Marine seemed content with calling him 'Kiddo'. Which was bad enough but something John could get used to if he had to.
He really had hoped the insults would stop or at least not be as frequent as in boot camp. It sucked to admit it but John really was a proud man and it had really been hard to keep his mouth shut as his instructors had yelled at him for no apparent reason and called him all kinds of things he wasn't. He hadn't always managed, which probably was the reason his Drill Sergeant had disliked him.
Apparently the insults didn't stop and he already dreaded every second he had to spend with his name-calling-happy Sergeant.
“Hey, Muck!” a Marine from a passing truck yelled, waving at them. The Sergeant grinned and waved back, looking really happy to see the other guy.
“Glad to see you're back, Winters!” he yelled after the man, who only gave him a thumbs-up.
John could only guess that the guy on the truck was probably back from the lazaret, but what had caught his attention was the name. “'Muck' seriously?” he mumbled under his breath only to have said man glaring at him.
“Says the man who's named after a fucking rifle.”
“Hey, at least I'm named after something decent,” John protested, already pretty sure he would regret it later on but right now he couldn't bring himself to care. Muck snorted at him and looked like he was reassessing him, but John would be damned if he would step down now. The smirk on the Sergeant's face got a bit wider and he motioned John to follow him as he started to move again.
“Let's just hope you do your name justice,” Muck commented as he walked down the street next to the ammunition depot.
“Let's hope you don't!” John called after Muck, then felt the urge to strangle himself for this after a few seconds. Damn it! The way his Sergeant looked at him couldn't mean any good but, as he turned away, he actually started to laugh. What the...
“I actually might like you,” the man announced before he turned towards John again, motioning impatiently for him to follow him, “Don't wanna keep the Gunny waiting, Kiddo. Your pretty face ain't getting you out of that!”
John protested as he started to jog to catch up with Muck, who could walk for such a short guy. “My pretty face has never gotten me outta anything!”
The other soldier just smirked him and patted his back as John was walking beside him once again, “Yeah tell me about it.”
Before John was able to come up with a decent reply, they neared three Marines who stared at a map, looking concerned while they pointed at different points of it. Muck neared them without any hesitation something John really didn't feel up to. The guy with the silver hair really looked like it was best not to tangle with him.
“Hey, Gunny.” Muck just pushed one of the guys a bit to the side to get a look at the piece of paper they all were staring at. They were all higher ranked than him, two Staff Sergeants and the Gunny but no one seemed to have a problem with the way Muck practically ignored everyone besides the Gunny.
“Gabe,” one of the men acknowledged him giving him a grin the other man returned, “Long time no see. How are those girls of yours?” Muck who apparently was friendly with all of them just shrugged and snorted slightly.
“Jack has turned into a nutjob, sir,” he answered the question, and John found he was actually amazed that the Sergeant used 'sir' at the end. It wouldn't have surprised him the least if he had just ignored it completely.
“No wonder with someone like you as CO,” the guy who had just been shoved to the side practically leered at Muck. John instantly disliked him if for nothing more then being an ass to his Sergeant. And the fact that he was practically radiating that he was someone you didn't want to work with because he would screw you over big time.
A low growl resonated. The growl itself didn't surprise John, but the fact that it didn't come from Muck but from the Gunny, did. The look he gave the Staff Sergeant could only be described as being gravely and cold. “Walker!” his voice was calm but the warning in it couldn't be mistaken. “Didn't I make myself clear, Staff Sergeant?”
Muck looked as surprised as John felt but the Staff Sergeant – Walker – just seemed to get even more angry. He took a step forward but a deadly glare stopped him dead in his tracks. If looks could kill they would have one dead Marine here now.
It was Muck who broke the tense silence with a surprisingly soft voice. “I can take care of myself, Gunny.” But the glare that Gibbs sent Walker didn't waver and judging by the silence, John drew the conclusion that Gibbs was of another opinion on that. Instead of answering Muck he stalked closer to Walker, crowding the other Marine against the car.
The younger man seemed to shrink and it was easy to see how uncomfortable he felt. If John hadn't disliked the guy, he would have actually felt sorry for him, “If you ever endanger my people again you will regret it.”
“If you live to do so,” Muck added and John found the smug grin was back in its place on the older man's face. The Gunny sent him a disapproving look but Muck seemed to be immune against it, however he managed that.
John returned his attention to the two higher-ranking Marines who were still having a staring contest, which was clearly going to be won by the Gunny. “Got it?” Yeah the Gunny really was one hell of a scary dude.
“Got it, Sir.” Walker bit out, apparently a bit scared too before he pushed past the silver haired man, stalking away.
As John looked back to the three remaining officers, he found the Gunny giving Muck a headslap. “Stop provoking the guy!” Well, didn't seem like the mood was about to lighten up much.
Muck didn't look impressed, instead he just snickered, patting his superior on the back. “Ah c'mon, Grumpy, lighten up! I know you like it when I make his life hell,” John held his breath, waiting for an outbreak that never came. Instead the silver haired man scoffed, murmuring something about better not letting himself get caught because he wouldn't get him out this time.
But as his gaze fell on John, the scowl was back again and John really, really wished to be anywhere but there. Maybe that was how they got soldiers to fight. Fighting was probably better than being the target of the Gunny's death glare. The intense blue eyes made him feel like he was in boot camp again on his very first day. “You aren't paid to stand around and be decorative.”
“Take it easy, Gunny.” Muck jumped in, much to John's surprise and relief. “He's a replacement, a boot, I'm showing him around,” the Gunnery Sergeant actually looked appeased which made John wonder why he was so... nice to Muck of all people. The intense stare was back on him but it wasn't quite that angry or cold, more assessing, which wasn't that great either but to that he was used by now. At least a little bit, the Gunny really seemed to be one of a kind.
“Private John Winchester.” he decided to introduce himself, saluting properly since he hadn't had a chance to do so until now. His salute was returned by both unknown officers.
“Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs.”
“Staff Sergeant André Sanger.”
The Gunny – Gibbs – still didn't seem any nicer but Sanger actually looked like someone John would like to work under. “Call him Slippers.” Muck added and John was very certain that he wouldn't do that as he saw the light scowl on Sanger's face.
“I swear, one day I'm gonna fucking shoot ya!” there was no real force behind his words and it was easy to hear the comradely banter in his voice.
“Aw but we both know you love me,” Muck fluttered his eyelashes grinning cheekily.
“Doesn't mean I wont shoot ya!” John stopped short of pointing out that Sanger had just confirmed that he loved Muck but since he didn't know any of them that good he stayed silent. When it came to your commanding officers you were better safe than sorry.
“As if you wouldn't miss.”
“Wanna try?” Sanger pulled his gun from his belt but before they could start to duel each other the Gunny interfered.
“Muck, Sanger, Winchester! Get your asses moving and do something useful for a change.”
“Yes, Sir!” John answered in unison with Sanger. Muck on the other hand seemed to have a different idea of a correct response.
“On it, Grumpy.”
Gibbs didn't seem too happy about the bright smirk on his officer's face if the head slap was anything to go by, “Muck!”
The Sergeant rubbed the back of his head but still grinned shamelessly at the older man. “Ah sorry, meant Gunny. You know, maybe Walker is right with the whole me being insane stuff.”
“I swear I'm gonna beat Sanger to shooting you for fuck's sake.” Muck laughed at those grumbled words, and while John stared at him disbelieving he also noticed that it was probably the first honest laugh he had heard of the older guy.
“You would be so bored without me, Sir.”
Gibbs just snorted but a smile was playing around his lips, making him look less like a bastard and more like an actual nice person. “Move it, Sergeant,” but there was no real heat behind his words, more something like a certain kind of fondness.
Nonetheless, Muck seemed to have sobered by now since he just saluted and with a sharp “Yes, Gunny,” he turned around to leave, John on his heels.
Muck was whistling as he and John went back in the direction of the platoon John was now a part of. Sanger had left them at the ammunition dump where he had some things to take care of. John had been surprised that the two men didn't start bantering as soon as they left the Gunny behind, but apparently they were in working mode now.
John was silent too, thinking about the people he had met until now. It was definitely different from boot camp. He wasn't entirely sure if this different was good, but right now it didn't seem too bad at least. Muck seemed to be well-liked at least by his immediate superiors and it wasn't hard to see, that he had the freedom to act as he wanted without having to be scared of consequences. Not that Muck seemed to be the person who would let himself be scared by consequences, even if there were some. John still wondered how the hell Muck had managed to pull that off, especially with the Gunny who seemed to be rather relentless.
John hated the jungle. He had come to that decision after they had been on patrol for barely two hours. But he was fairly certain his hate would only grow with the hours and more patrols to come. There was something about it that unnerved him and he couldn't deny the fact that he really hated it here. Nor did he want too. And he certainly wasn't the only one.
Before they had moved out to patrol the area, the other Marines in his platoon had told him very loudly how much they hated it to be on patrol in the damn jungle for various reasons that ranged from the mosquitos to the Vietcong trying to kill them.
His squad had been the lucky ones to get this patrol run in the late evening of a hot day for late January. They actually had been lucky since it hadn't rained so far and even though it was warm for January it was nice with just about 25°C.
It really could have been a nice walk, if not for the mosquitos and the fact that they were in a war. Even though the Tet Holidays officially meant ceasefire it was still possible that some over eager guy with a gun would shoot them. It happened. And it happened far to often for any soldier to ignore. Over eagerness wasn't only something that could kill you coming from Charlie, but there had been enough Zulus spiked with Grunts wasted by friendly fire.
It was actually Gabriel who had given them that speech; the Sergeant that led them into the field was like a different person from the Sergeant John had gotten to know. He had had his bad feelings about following the chatty and easy going Sergeant into the field but all of them had been proven wrong.
Sergeant Gabriel Muck was everything you could want in an NCO, at least when you were in the field with him. Because even though back at the base he was an insufferable bastard with far too big a love for practical jokes. Out here though he was sharp and could keep his soldiers focused and concentrated even when being on patrol while there was a cease-fire. He didn't emit panic just a bit of concern and it was clear that he wouldn't let any of his men die because of a stupid mistake.
John himself was wary, there had been some gossip about a planned attack, even though Charlie had agreed to the Tet ceasefire. But like most of the people, he hoped there wouldn't be any attacks. Even though he hadn't come to 'Nam to sit around and do nothing, he wasn't too keen for his first battle.
Which was kind of weird since he actually wanted to prove himself to his comrades and Muck, who still viewed him as some kind of child or whatever since he was just out of boot camp. The constant taunting about him having no idea would only stop if the other guys saw that he wasn't some half-baked idiot who had come to war because he thought it was cool. If he was unlucky it would never stop, after all he was just a replacement and as he had learned quickly, it took lot to earn those guys respect. Although, if you had it they would do practically everything for you.
He forced his thoughts away from the ceasefire and everything that could still go wrong, and back on the task at hand. Muck was right, he should still keep focus or otherwise he could end up dead sooner than he wanted to be. And being shot by one of your own guys or bitten by a snake wasn't really a nice story to tell either.
John eyed the green forest around him warily. It was so different from everything that he was used to at home. Lawrence, Kansas had a forest and a bunch of wild animals but nothing to compare to the wilderness around him, this was something entirely new and frightening if he was honest. There were so many colors all around, even though it was still dark the luminous colors still amazed John.
There were strange blooms all around, but they really weren't the strangest thing in all this. The jungle itself, with all the thick tendrils and big trees. Everything was different from the things he was used to. If this wasn't a war zone and if he wasn't a soldier unfortunate to fight in this Godforsaken hole, he would probably be fascinated in a good way, amazed by all the forms that nature could produce. But in the light of how things were, those new surroundings made him nervous and put him on edge.
This was the ideal territory to hide and set up a trap, especially if you knew the area. Which John didn't. And he doubted the other soldiers in his platoon did either. Despite all their big words from before, they all looked wary and John wasn't the only one nearly shooting at a movement that ended up just being a plant moved by the wind, or an animal they had alarmed with their presence. He really did understand now how it was easy to shoot one of your own people in this jungle.
Muck and three others were the only ones not acting like they were ready to shoot at the smallest of noises and ask questions later. He wasn't at ease like when they were back in the camp but he wasn't nervous either. He just showed a creepy concentration and focus on the matter at hand. John envied him if he was honest and really wished he could have this kind of confidence and experience too.
The patrol came to an abrupt halt when Muck gestured them to stop. He talked to the radioman in a low tone, which made John unable to hear anything even though he was just a few feet away. John tore his eyes away as Muck took the receiver from the Lance Corporal and focused on watching the surroundings so the Sergeant wouldn't get shot. Without him, they'd be screwed.
At first John wasn't sure if it was really there or if he had just imagined the sounds of helicopters in the far distance, but the noise grew louder and by the way everyone was getting nervous, he guessed it wasn't just his imagination. Helicopters weren't all that unusual or worrying but if the choppers were real, so were the faint sounds of explosions.
Muck was still talking silently in the receiver acting as if he heard neither the choppers nor the sounds of the explosions. John was pretty sure he did hear them but decided that there were more important things he needed to concentrate on than explosions too far away to hurt them or a bunch of nervous Marines.
Again John wished he could keep as calm as him, but instead he heard his heart thundering loud in his chest, the nervousness creeping in every part of his body. He was on the edge and wondered what would happen when he ended up in a real battle, somewhere where the explosions weren't just noises in the distance but everywhere around him. He really hoped he wouldn't run away screaming or something.
He wondered what Muck was discussing with whoever he had on the radio but it took long, at least it seemed that way for John but he wouldn't really trust his judgment on things like the time anymore. The signal to move on followed a few blinks later, and it took John a moment to actually get moving, his senses were too focused on whatever was going on in the distance.
The faint noises of war actually helped their concentration, that didn't mean they weren't all more than happy when they made it back to base. All of them wanted to know what was actually going on; why they heard explosions and why so many choppers were in the air, even though they were supposed to have a ceasefire.
On the base, chaos had ensued. The kind of organized chaos that accompanied every spontaneous action by a military force. That could only mean one thing: the ceasefire had been broken. Muck had given them stern orders to stay exactly where they were, inside their barracks, while he went of to find out exactly what happened.
It didn't take him more than 15 minutes but for the soldiers inside the barracks, it felt like an eternity. There was no question that they would rather be back out there and shoot at something than sitting in here, useless and not knowing a damn thing. For all they knew, Russia could have started a war to help Charlie or some crap like that.
The Corporal had quickly stopped every bit of gossip and made it clear that they should just sit down and not talk shit. So it had come down to a bunch of nervous soldiers telling bad jokes and insulting one another. Yeah the jungle really didn't sound that bad anymore.
As Muck entered the barrack, all of them looked up and John was pretty sure he wasn't the only one whose stomach dropped as he saw the grave expression on the face of the Sergeant he had come to respect and trust, "Charlie started an offensive. They broke the TET-ceasefire and we have ended up with some pretty heavy losses."
John felt sick as he heard those words. Not because he had not thought that the Vietnamese would break a ceasefire, they were all lying bastards after all, but this meant they would probably end up in the middle of some disastrous effort to win back territory or defend something that was actually long lost, "We're going to relieve some guys from the 5th Marines at a bunch of bridges near Hue. Get your gear guys we're moving out 0400."
What Gabriel didn't say but didn't need too, was that it looked bad. It was very likely that they would end up dead before the dawning day was over.
The guys from the 5th Marines had been more than happy to be replaced by them and move to God knew where. John hadn't paid enough attention to the short talk Muck had with them, he was far too nervous. His eyes kept wandering around and taking in the surroundings, the not so well cared for bridge, the river, the street, the jungle and the floodplain. Everything was green, far too green, far too living.
John couldn't help feeling claustrophobic even though there weren't any walls enclosing him. But it was this damn forest that made him feel like the enemy could come as near as he could throw a stone, without him even knowing they were there. It was terrifying and he almost wished he could finally engage in some real fighting so he could focus on all the ways he could get killed out here.
"Hey, kiddo, c'mon." John's head snapped up as he heard the voice of his Sergeant and somehow the tone and the fact that he had called him kiddo put him at ease. If things were bad Muck wouldn't call him kiddo or Johnny-boy, his two favorite nicknames, much to John's dismay, though he was quite happy for them now. Not that he would ever tell Muck, or he would never hear the end of it.
He hurried to the other man's side, who looked at him like he was about to make a joke, but there was no grin on his face like there was when he was really at ease. So even though it couldn't be as bad as John had feared, it couldn't be that good either.
"We're gonna man this part of the bridge together with Caleb," John took a short look at the radioman who nodded sharply before he stared at the jungle again, probably searching for the same thing John had looked for.
Caleb was a bit weird, at least in John's eyes, but they had only exchanged a handful of words and it wasn't as if John couldn't like him. He just didn't know him and he seemed a bit weird. But, on the other hand, everyone in his squad was pretty weird.
"Don't get too comfy ladies, we're not gonna stay here long!"
Gabriel announced, before he, John and Caleb crouched behind a barrier that gave them cover from the attack nobody seemed sure would hit them here. That didn't stop all of them practically waiting for something bad to happen but John was at ease. Or at least, as much at ease as he could be in this situation.
Muck was joking quietly with Caleb and that gave him a bigger sense of security than he should get from it. But when the much more experienced Marine was joking again things couldn't be that bad right? John didn't join into this round of jokes and taunting though. He pressed his back against the barrier that would give them cover in an attack and clutched to his M14 like his life depended on it, which it kind of did.
"Don't freak, okay kiddo?" Muck commented, pulling John back from a trance or slumber he hadn't even been aware slipping into. He noticed the gentle hands of Muck prying his fingers from his M14, and as he forced his eyes downwards he was puzzled for a short moment why his hand were so white, but gave into Muck and loosened his grip on the rifle.
"Won't freak." he protested a few moments too late, but he noticed that Muck grinned nonetheless.
"Yeah right," the Sergeant scoffed slightly, but John was well aware of the worried look in his eyes. He wondered if he really looked that bad, Muck's look telling him he probably did.
"Really," he muttered glaring at his Sergeant defiantly.
This seemed to ease his Sergeant's worry a bit but he still kept his hands on John's shoulder, but the younger man didn't really mind, "Well, if you do, I'm really gonna kick your ass. I can't have another nutjob in my squad or they'll never let me live it down."
John snorted at this very strange encouragement but he just shrugged, focused on keeping the grip on the M14 light so Muck's worry wouldn't increase. The older Marine could really be a mother hen when it came to his people. Most of the time, John was glad he had ended up in Muck's squad since he took good care of his men, but right now all the attention was rather unwanted. John wanted to be left alone; he wouldn't freak and jump off the bridge or something. That would be pretty pathetic and fit perfectly into the picture his mother had of him, and if it was the last thing he did, he wouldn't be like his mother thought he was.
"It gets better," Muck declared after he squeezed John's shoulder and let go of him entirely to settle in next to him. The doubting look John gave him was enough to make Muck chuckle and shrug, "Well, not really better but once you know what to expect, it is easier. The waiting beforehand is the hardest. Once you're in the battle your training kicks in. Well or you end up dead in the first ten minutes," he chuckled as he saw John's grave expression and punched him in the shoulder, "even if you do everything right, you'll still probably end up dead. This is a dirty war and we don't know half as much or are half as good asthose damn Vietnamese."
"Muck...," John cut into the words of his Sergeant's, glaring at him accusingly, "You really, really suck at pep talks. Whoever put you in charge of anything wasn't right in his head. Or just wanted you to stop talking."
That provoked an outright fit of laughter from his Sergeant and even Caleb chuckled silently, even though John had at least partly meant what he said. This was even more depressing. He knew all those facts anyhow, since he wasn't stupid, and could learn from what he saw and experienced, but you didn't want to here this from your superior.
"I don't suck at pep talks," Muck's protest really didn't sound serious since he had needed a few minutes to stop himself from laughing and was still grinning brightly.
"You do." John could hardly resist the urge to poke his tongue out at Muck but restrained this urge as a tiny bit unsuitable for a Marine.
"Don't!" Muck protested in his best kindergarten style, and unlike John, he didn't try in the least to act mature but instead poked his tongue at John, trying to look hurt and laugh at the same time.
"You do!" John really couldn't resist the childish interaction to ease some of the tension and worry that had put him so close to panic.
"Oh for the fucking love of the fucking God!" Caleb growled at them, and actually managed to make John and Gabriel look shocked, "Stop it, you little idiots, or for fuck's sake I swear I'm gonna kick your asses right into that nice fucked up river."
John looked even more shocked when Gabriel started to giggle like he really was a child, as he pointed a finger at Caleb. "You said fuck a lot. I guess you're going to Hell, mate."
Caleb looked ready to strangle Gabriel, who still wore that huge grin that always gave the impression that nothing ever could go wrong just because Gabriel was here, "It's you, not me, that has a special seat reserved right next to Satan," he grumbled and turned around to watch down the road.
The grin had disappeared from Muck's face, and John wondered for a brief moment if it was possible that he was religious before dismissing this thought. No way in Heaven or Hell was Sergeant Gabriel Muck anything but an atheist. "Caleb is a party pooper," he grumbled even though none of his earlier carefree behavior returned, "but he is right, I've got you bunch of idiots to take care of."
He punched slightly against John's shoulder before he stood, eyeing his surroundings wearily without having that panicked edge John figured he displayed. "Gonna take a look around and make sure no one else thinks about making the swan dive."
"I didn't..." John started to protest, but Muck shook his hard sharply and stopped him dead in his tracks with his stern glare. "Don't go there, Kiddo. It's normal to have a bit of panic when you move into a battle. Especially if you (either 'have never been' or 'have yet to be') in a real one. In fact everyone who is not scared is an idiot, and I don't allow idiots to serve in my squad. The fear keeps you on the edge; you just have to keep it under control. Got it, Winchester?"
John nodded sharply, sobered by the calm talk Muck had just given him. It was hard to get any farther from the stupid jokes they had traded earlier, but that was what made him so good. He knew exactly what his man needed and took care of it, took care of them. John really was a lucky bastard to serve with this extraordinary man.
"Yes, Sergeant." he replied sharply.
Muck nodded before turning around and leaving John in the company of a silent Caleb to check on the rest of the squad. After a quick look towards the older Marine next to him, John resumed his former position, though this time he kept the fear at bay like Gabriel told him too.
The night had been quiet, or at least as quite as it got when you were on a bridge in the middle of a fucking war. John had even gotten a few hours of sleep as first Muck, and then Caleb, were on watch. He had been woken by Caleb in the early hours of the morning when there was barely a hint of the sunrise on the horizon.
He had been proud that he hadn't had another near panic attack. John had even felt some kind of peace as he watched out over the river and the jungle; the noises of nature were only seldom broken by faint gunfire. He knew the chances that he was going to die in this hellhole were pretty high but he didn't give a damn. At least not in the moment he had sat there and watched out over the awakening nature around him.
Now on the way to the city of Hue, that was another matter. The gunshots and explosions had gotten louder; every few minutes they heard a chopper not too far away. John still didn't feel the panic from the day before, but the peace wasn't there either. The other guys of his squad seemed to be at ease, however, joking around even though they were probably going to sit in that city for days or weeks.
"Hey, boot, you nervous?" Brad teased as he came up next to John, punching his shoulder a bit too much to be just friendly. John had known that it was only a matter of time until that started again. He didn't mind it that much. Okay it sucked, but he knew it was part of the job. Teasing the new one was as much a part of being a soldier as killing was.
"Watch out, Brad, I might shoot you by accident. Being nervous and all," the laughter that this comment elicited made Brad look even more pissed than he normally did. Which was hard. The other Marine had been the new one before John had, coming in as replacement together with Caleb and the guy John had replaced. He guessed Brad wanted to make sure John went through the same as he had.
"As if you can even fucking aim," Brad retorted, looking at him like he was some kind of scum, "at least I didn't loose my weapon as I ran away from the enemy."
The more or less good-hearted teasing went on for most of the way. John didn't particularly like it, but just like the day before with Muck it put him more at ease. He and Brad actually got along most of the time, but when they both were nervous they started really butting heads just to relieve some of the tension.
Their banter was interrupted by the Gunny, who suddenly appeared next to them. John really didn't know how he managed that, but like Muck always somehow found whatever he needed, Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs could sneak up on you no matter how much attention you paid to your surroundings.
His intense glare freaked John out a bit but he knew that he wasn't the only one who didn't feel that pissing of the Gunny was a good idea. He didn't even need to say anything as the glare alone was enough to sober them up and get them to focus on whatever task at hand.
"A sniper already killed four today before we took him out. I don't want anymore dog tags in my pocket today, got me?" The tension was edged into the posture and face of the silver haired man. John knew from what little Muck had told him and what he had seen himself from the man, that Gibbs took every fallen man personal. It probably wasn't healthy, especially in a war like this, but this was what made a good officer. At least in the SNCO ranks.
"Yes, Sir," John and the others were sobered by the bad news, though moreso by the tension in their officer's words. Gibbs nodded, turning away to go wherever he actually needed to be.
John didn't know if he was the only one that felt the weight of this war again, even stronger than before. He wondered if that was what had happened to his brother, being shot dead by a sniper on a road. Or if he had died in this goddamn jungle. Or in a town just like the one they were headed for.
Well, he'd never know but he didn't plan to follow his brother down that road, even though he had done most of the things his older brother had done too. The same high school, the same sports team, joining the Marines, fighting in the same war. He had never asked his brother if he had done it for the same reasons as he had and now it was too late.
And he planned to keep it that way, him living even though his brother was dead. He tore his thoughts away from his dead brother and his fucked up family, focusing instead on his surroundings to keep himself from being shot dead after all.
John heard a shot, followed by a cry of pain. His training reacted before his brain really came up with what had happened. "Sniper!" someone yelled and John pressed even closer to the ground he had dropped to, getting behind the vehicle next to him, pressing his back into it. He had no idea where the fire of the sniper came from, but as a man a few feet next to him went down gurgling he knew he was on the wrong side of the transporter.
He scrambled to his feet as fast as he could, running to get behind the other side of the transporter out of the range of the sniper. Heavy gunfire erupted, and John ducked his head but kept running. He knew it was even more likely that he would die if he even so much as slowed down for a second.
The sound of a sniper rifle a few feet to the left of him made his heart speed up even more, but as he all but threw himself behind the transporter he noticed it had been Muck who had just shot and not another enemy sniper. The Sergeant jogged towards him, kneeling beside him, worry edged into his features.
"You hurt, Kiddo?" he asked to which John just shook his head, his lungs too busy with breathing to get out a word. Muck smiled at him sympathetically before standing up and walking around the vehicle.
John wanted to stop him but Gibbs, who was next to him he noticed, getting up from behind the cover, stopped him. "He took him out."
"Oh..." John was somehow embarrassed that he hadn't noticed that his Sergeant had taken out the sniper, but Gibbs, who seemed to sense his thought, patted his shoulder.
"You did good, kid."
Despite the fact that he was starting to get pissed that everyone here seemed to like calling him 'kid' or 'kiddo', he was glad for the Gunny's support and smiled at him wordlessly. When the Gunny was gone, John started to get up too, he was still feeling like he had just run a marathon, adrenaline pumping through his veins, but at least he was still alive.
Only now he really noticed how loud it actually was around him. Wounded were shouting for help, medics answering to their call and John already heard the choppers coming that would collect some of the more severely wounded. There had probably been more than one sniper and John was pretty sure if they moved even a few meters more they would be under heavy fire again but right now, he was just glad to be alive.
They had made it into Hue even though most of them didn't see that at as reason to celebrate. It was evening and they had only managed to get near the MACV compound, establishing defense position to protect the compound and a landing zone for helicopters.
It might sound like they had moved a good ways and they actually had but that didn't change the fact that all of them knew they were stuck here. Everywhere in the abandoned buildings out of the secured area were snipers. There were blocks were there were none and others you couldn't move a foot without being shot at. John hated it.
John hoped they would stay here for a while, establish some good positions and make sure the MACV wasn't overrun by Charlie. but he was fairly sure they would move forward first thing in the morning. It wasn't only John who wasn't to keen to move in the city.
All of the Marines were tough as nails but that didn't mean they had a death wish. They liked to take risks (sometimes unnecessary ones) but none of them had planned on dying any time soon. Going into the city and trying to get to some godforsaken building was a pretty good way to end up dead though.
John looked up as Gabriel flopped down next to him. The sergeant handed him a metal bowl with some suspicious looking soup in it, but John had stopped thinking too much about what he ate after he had been hungry enough times. “Thanks,” he mumbled, taking the bowl and eating fast.
“Don't get too comfy, Kiddo, we're moving out first thing in the morning, advancing to wherever,” Gabriel didn't look pleased at all but even he couldn't change what the guys up high far away from the frontline decided.
“Figured,” John mumbled between bites.
Opcon probably hasn't told Gabriel yet where they would go but John would bet his rifle that Gabriel already knew. This guy had this really freaky power of always knowing what would happen next. It made him a bit creepy but also a damn good leader.
They sat in companionable silence, John eating his soup while Gabriel munched on one of his ever-present chocolate bars. Gabriel ate them like other people smoked, and chocolate was even rarer than cigarettes. Especially the stuff Gabriel ate, that looked like it was fresh out of the supermarket. It was another thing that made Gabriel unique – and a bit creepy.
“Awww, the two lovebirds are enjoying the evening!”
The taunting voice made John look up just to be confronted with a grinning Staff Sergeant Walker. John's good mood vanished instantly. Even though he had only met Walker once he already felt like he had seen him far too often. “Oh, Walker, I see you've actually gotten your lazy ass to the frontline so I can shoot you. How thoughtful!”
Gabriel really sounded like he would love to shoot the Staff Sergeant, and John himself wasn't too opposed either. The ugly scowl on the other man's face made him look even more like a person you wouldn't want to work with.
But the expression John found on Gabriel's face once he turned towards him wasn't that much nicer. It actually scared him to see his Sergeant so openly aggressive and hateful. Muck had always been the calm and collected one, despite his joking and pranking. But when it came down to fighting, he always was the one you could count on to have his feelings under control. Which wasn't exactly the way he looked now.
“Well, Sergeant Muck, you might be happy to hear that I'm your new superior since Staff Sergeant Williams is no longer fit for duty.” John actually didn't know what to say to that and Gabriel looked at loss for words too, which was a sign of how bad exactly things were.
When he spoke, his voice was tight like he was forcing himself to stay calm and collected, “what happened to Williams?” his voice was still pretty much a growl but Walker didn't look the least bit worried, he was clearly enjoying his new position of power, especially over Gabriel Muck.
“Can't tell and now I suggest you do something useful, or I might need to think about some punishment. After all you aren't with the Marines to sit around and be lazy. And I'm afraid you've done far too much of that lately.”
Gabriel looked ready to shoot the guy, no matter the consequences, and John readied himself to wrestle the rifle from his hands and hold him back when Gabriel stood abruptly, ignoring him as he stalked closer to Walker.
“You screw over the men and you're a dead man,” he growled, stepping directly into Walker's space, not the least bit impressed by his new superior.
“Oh, so are you threatening me, Sergeant Muck? I think threatening your Staff Sergeant gets you a nice trip to the court martial.” Gabriel snorted and John really started to worry that he would do something enormously stupid like get into a fistfight with Walker.
“Oh no, I'm not threatening you. As they say in those cheesy Hollywood movies: this is no threat, this is a promise.” He pushed against Walker's chest, forcing him to step back. “And now you have to excuse me, I've got to find something to do after all.”
John looked after Gabriel, worried that he would get himself into trouble now but hell, that was Gabriel, he always got himself into trouble and emerged from it without even so much as a scratch. Really sometimes it was hard to not think of Gabriel as being immortal or something.
“Since you seem to just sit around and decorate that nice spot there I suggest you move your ass, Winchester, you're first watch!” Walker sneered, probably hoping that John would do something stupid. He definitely wasn't immortal and if he got himself into shit, especially with his Staff Sergeant he would probably end up royally screwed.
“Yes sir.” he mumbled, fleeing from the scene before Walker got any more ideas how to torture him.
Gabriel was still pissed, it wasn't hard to miss, and John found himself more worried about whom the wrath of his Sergeant might hit, than the fact that they were moving out trying to get further control over the city.
After all it couldn't be that hard to move those six blocks to the west from MACV and take those provincial headquarters! Well John knew better by now, it would be far, far from easy and he wasn't looking forward to the task, clearing the houses and moving forward. If they were even able to do so!
Yesterday alone, ten had died in that goddamn city and over forty had been wounded. It wasn't pretty fighting in the city. Damn, in this hellhole it wasn't pretty fighting anywhere. They might have the better weapons and the better training, but those damn Vietcong soldiers knew the ground. They knew where to hide and where to take up position. They, on the other hand didn't, despite all their superior technology.
Walker, on the other hand, had made it his personal task to torment Gabriel as much as he could, not that this was much for now, since the Gunny had been around the last few hours and had made sure Walker didn't abuse his position to get back at Gabriel.
But now they were soon going to be out alone in the field and John wasn't comfortable with that. Walker wasn't a bad officer per se, but John wasn't comfortable trusting him to guide them through this situation. Especially when he was that preoccupied with making Gabriel's life a living hell – or rather trying.
While Gabriel was snappy and could give as good as he took, he would never do that when it came to a commanding officer, or at least not when the men needed to rely on both of them. By disobeying Walker or ignoring him, he would be setting a bad example and the discipline in the group was more important than ever since this could all become one big clusterfuck pretty fast.
But that meant Gabriel had to suck it up and do every menial task he was given and John worried that Walker would get them all killed by keeping Gabriel occupied the whole time. Muck was, after all, the best you could get out here. Well maybe next to the Gunny.
He still didn't know what had happened to Williamson or who the fuck had the brilliant idea to make Walker the Staff Sergeant of their unit. Seriously, someone up there should get his brain checked.
John was pretty sure Gabriel knew all about it by now, but the one time John had tried to ask him about it, Gabriel had snapped at him and when Gabriel was angry things got messy, so John had decided to stay clear for a while.
He looked at his Sergeant who gave commands to them in his tense voice in the relative safety of the building they were in. As long as they stayed clear of the windows it was actually as safe as you could get in this hellhole.
It was one of the few buildings that weren't half bombed away or destroyed in some other way. John really wished he could stay in the relative safety rather than getting out there. Not that he had a choice.
“Listen up ladies, we've been given clearance to kick some Vietnamese ass, so get in gear, we're moving out 0600 hours,” Walker looked pleased with himself as he made the announcement, probably still pleased by the fact that he had gotten assigned to Gabriel's platoon.