Marine Corps Stories: BRASS

Rounds zoomed by Corporal India Gaither’s head. Her skin matched the night. She exhibited perfect trigger control and remembered keyword BRASS: Breathe, Relax, Aim, Slack, Squeeze. Neither of her fellow Marines remained in the best of shape. Lance Corporal Dannon Bowe and Slevin Fowler had sustained wounds to their calf muscles, almost in the exact same places. Sergeant Carlo Paz sat down beside India behind the armored vehicle.

“Quite a night for a fire fight, right?” He said. His eyebrows, gunked with grease rose up and down in saying this with a wry smirk. “Look, we’re going to get the injured Marines the hell out of here. We still have to secure that building. What I need for you–”

A round bounced off the vehicle and ricocheted into the darkness. Unfazed, Paz continued. “We need to convene with the captain to ensure that we have enough cover to keep us going.”

“Roger that, Carlo,” India said. The two Marines tread around the vehicle and witnessed Captain Gallaudet Hoops laying down suppressive (and impressive) fire against the enemy. He had lugged an M240 machine gun from his vehicle a few yards away. He acted like an explorer clearing brush in a thick of vegetation. He mowed down the jihadists with great precision. India and Carlo inched ever closer to where Hoops fired. Once they reached him, they orchestrated a plan.

“Get the hell down, goddamnit,” Hoops said.

Paz and India abided. The captain continued his assault. The blast from his gun remained the only light illuminating the Marine’s side.

Then, a suicide bomber ran across the street headed for the Marines. Paz zeroed in on the explosives and watch the man become neutralized in a burst of flames and shrapnel. The three Marines sought cover and found it behind a stack of empty ammo cans. No flying debris entered their bodies.

“I’m on my last belt. Sergeant….”

“Yes, sir.”

“I need you and the corporal to remain here.” That’s all he said. What he did made the Paz and India marvel. He circumvented numerous obstacles and found refuge in firing the remaining rounds of the machine gun. At just 5’8” Captain Hoops could maneuver around the tight spaces with a heavy weapon lodged to his body. Once the rounds had been depleted from the firearm, he trusted his pistol. An expert, Hoops took advantage of the cover of darkness to advance to the building. Once he reached it, he called for the two other Marines to come along with him. The building boasted marble floors and a chandelier. Beautiful Persian rugs adorned the space. Hoops soaked in the interior to this palace like place in the capital of Iran. In the distance, he could hear a helicopter approaching. The medevac seemed to be underway. The jihadists retreated. One of them tried to go into the palace from the street and with one shot, Hoops relieved him of his miserable life.

Where Paz and India positioned themselves, they ran back over to Bowe and Fowler to assist with the docs to get them on the helicopter.

Then, a rogue figure crept towards them. Again, India employed the mantra of BRASS and pierced a round right in between the insurgents eyes.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” she said. “Make sure that these Marines get good care,” she told one of the Navy Corpsman.

The helicopter departed the scene like a giant sparrow taking to the skies.

An eerie silence had descended upon the area at this point. Bodies strewn like burnt out matches littered the streets. But through exact shooting on the side of the Marines, the palace remained pristine. Hoops signaled for Paz and India to come up to where he stood. The enlisted Marines followed the officer’s command. With no threats and the “all clear” signal, the two of them walked directly towards the building. They greeted the captain.

“Sir...that was some mighty fine shooting,” Paz said.

“You know that you both showed heroism back there.” He switched gears. “I want to talk about this building. It has been clear for the past few weeks. No one has dared to enter its walls.” He pointed at the paintings and sculptures that beckoned for the viewer to see and feel.

“This is going to be our fortification and temporary headquarters now that the enemy is running and hiding. Just how we want the bastards. So, what I want both of you to do is to sweep the premises and to disarm any booby traps or other threats. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

While India and Paz checked the property for trip wires and the like, Captain Hoops initiated several communications with his superiors. He smiled a little smile. “Thank you, sir,” he said. “We look forward to a fruitful future with our presence in the center of Tehran.” After he ended the communiqué, Captain Hoops retrieved an e-cigar and puffed vapor into the air. On a night like this, he remained fortunate that he had stared down the adversary and crushed his will to fight. He tasted the sweetness of achieving an all-important goal.