A Bomb Built in Hell Read Online Free
infantry training, conditions didnât improve. But Wesley was already trained to do his own time, and he didnât have anyone to complain to anyway.
He qualified Expert with the M1, the only non-hillbilly to do so. This was immediately noted and praised by the New York contingent, which had already clashed with the Southerners. But the city-breds were too used to fighting each other to mount any kind of sustained drive against a common enemy. So tension was generally discharged in beery brawls, with no one seriously injured.
Wesley stayed away from all that, and hoped like hell he wouldnât get shipped to Korea.
C amp Jackson was right on the northern border, and the scene of many of the warâs worst battles. Wesley was assigned there and attached to a special hunter-killer squad. Because he rarely spoke, he was considered stupid and therefore, according to Army standards, highly reliable. He became the teamâs sniperâagain, the only city kid to be so assigned.
The one thing Wesley paid any attention to was his sergeant telling his squad that every time they went out on patrol, the zips were the only thing keeping him from coming back.
The sergeant was a lifer and respected by everyone for his ability to make an excellent living in a lousy situation. But the sergeant didnât realize what a good listener Wesley was, or how concretely he thought.
During a heavy firefight near Quon Ti-Tyen, Wesleyâs squad was exposed. They all realized they were going down the tubes unless they retreated, and fast. The ROTC lieutenant had already fallen, leaving their sergeant in command. But the sergeant wasnât even thinking about retreat. He kept screaming at his men to advance.
It took Wesley only a piece of a second to realize that it was the
sergeant
who was keeping him from returning to the safety of the base. He pumped four rounds from his M1 into the liferâs back and neck with the same lack of passion that had always produced the best results from his sniperâs roost.
Nobody saw the sergeant fallâhis was just another body in a whole mess of bodies. Wesley shouted
âRetreat!â
at the top of his lungs. Because he was thelast man to pull out, he was later awarded a Bronze Star from his grateful government.
T wo months later, Wesley was hit in the leg with a ball bearing from the land mine that had wiped out the three men just ahead of him. Sent down to South Korea for surgery, he made a complete recoveryâjust in time to take advantage of an R&R in Japan.
Wesley stayed away from the Japanese whores. He couldnât understand how they could feel anything but hate for American soldiers, and he knew what he would do if their positions had been reversed. The crap games didnât interest him, either; gambling never had.
He was sitting quietly in an enlisted menâs bar when four drunken Marines came in and started to tear up the place. Wesley slid toward the door. He was trying to get out when he was grabbed by one of the Marines and belted in the mouth. The Marine saw Wesley falling to the floor, and turned his attention back to the general brawl. He never knew Wesley had come off the floor as fast as he went down.
And smashed a glass ashtray into the back of the Marineâs neck.
At the court-martial, Wesley couldnât explain how the ashtray had gotten into his hand or why he had reacted so violently to such a minor assault.
T he verdict was an Undesirable discharge. But, in consideration of his excellent combat record and thatBronze Star, Wesley was separated from the service without stockade time added on. Before he was shipped out, Wesley had the chance to visit the Marine in the hospital.
Even paralyzed from the neck down, he caught Wesleyâs eye across the room. The Marine was lying faceup on a special bed, with tubes running out of his lower body into various bottles and machines. Wesley walked up close until he was sure the Marine could see
He qualified Expert with the M1, the only non-hillbilly to do so. This was immediately noted and praised by the New York contingent, which had already clashed with the Southerners. But the city-breds were too used to fighting each other to mount any kind of sustained drive against a common enemy. So tension was generally discharged in beery brawls, with no one seriously injured.
Wesley stayed away from all that, and hoped like hell he wouldnât get shipped to Korea.
C amp Jackson was right on the northern border, and the scene of many of the warâs worst battles. Wesley was assigned there and attached to a special hunter-killer squad. Because he rarely spoke, he was considered stupid and therefore, according to Army standards, highly reliable. He became the teamâs sniperâagain, the only city kid to be so assigned.
The one thing Wesley paid any attention to was his sergeant telling his squad that every time they went out on patrol, the zips were the only thing keeping him from coming back.
The sergeant was a lifer and respected by everyone for his ability to make an excellent living in a lousy situation. But the sergeant didnât realize what a good listener Wesley was, or how concretely he thought.
During a heavy firefight near Quon Ti-Tyen, Wesleyâs squad was exposed. They all realized they were going down the tubes unless they retreated, and fast. The ROTC lieutenant had already fallen, leaving their sergeant in command. But the sergeant wasnât even thinking about retreat. He kept screaming at his men to advance.
It took Wesley only a piece of a second to realize that it was the
sergeant
who was keeping him from returning to the safety of the base. He pumped four rounds from his M1 into the liferâs back and neck with the same lack of passion that had always produced the best results from his sniperâs roost.
Nobody saw the sergeant fallâhis was just another body in a whole mess of bodies. Wesley shouted
âRetreat!â
at the top of his lungs. Because he was thelast man to pull out, he was later awarded a Bronze Star from his grateful government.
T wo months later, Wesley was hit in the leg with a ball bearing from the land mine that had wiped out the three men just ahead of him. Sent down to South Korea for surgery, he made a complete recoveryâjust in time to take advantage of an R&R in Japan.
Wesley stayed away from the Japanese whores. He couldnât understand how they could feel anything but hate for American soldiers, and he knew what he would do if their positions had been reversed. The crap games didnât interest him, either; gambling never had.
He was sitting quietly in an enlisted menâs bar when four drunken Marines came in and started to tear up the place. Wesley slid toward the door. He was trying to get out when he was grabbed by one of the Marines and belted in the mouth. The Marine saw Wesley falling to the floor, and turned his attention back to the general brawl. He never knew Wesley had come off the floor as fast as he went down.
And smashed a glass ashtray into the back of the Marineâs neck.
At the court-martial, Wesley couldnât explain how the ashtray had gotten into his hand or why he had reacted so violently to such a minor assault.
T he verdict was an Undesirable discharge. But, in consideration of his excellent combat record and thatBronze Star, Wesley was separated from the service without stockade time added on. Before he was shipped out, Wesley had the chance to visit the Marine in the hospital.
Even paralyzed from the neck down, he caught Wesleyâs eye across the room. The Marine was lying faceup on a special bed, with tubes running out of his lower body into various bottles and machines. Wesley walked up close until he was sure the Marine could see
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