"What happened was nothing more than I

deserved. What did they do to deserve to

share my fate? Was it a reward for their

loyalty in the cold and dark of the War

Fighter Tunnels?

Or were we all just damned?"

2/19th Special Weapons Group Barracks
Restricted Area, Alfenwehr West Germany
Late Winter
Day 1 of Repairs
Day 1 of the Third Incident
1030 Hours, 12 February, 1986

The sky was cloudy, but no snow was blowing down on us. I stood in the sanded street, staring at the barracks. There was smoke damage to the right hand area, where the Mag Offices were, on the front of the building. The glass doors that led inside were intact. A lot of the windows had been replaced, but mostly up on the third floor, plenty of Titty Territory, and Near Hammerhead Hall. That left about 2/3 of the mountainside windows left to do.

Not to mention all the damage our little rampage had caused.

The building was mostly hidden by the snow that the blizzard and then just winter had dumped on the top of the mountain. It was piled up to about halfway above the second floor windows, but the engineers had dug out a path to airlock. It made it look serene, and I wondered if the bodies were still in the snow or if Tandy had feasted in the darkness.

To my left was semi-trucks, loaded with furniture, boxed weapons and TA-50, and other crap we needed. A 5-ton was behind me from the company, 5-Ton 35, affectionately known as Growler, was behind me, idling in the cold. In the lead was CUC-V 22, where Sergeant Butcher and Sergeant White were still sitting inside, both of them looking less than thrilled to be sitting there.

"Aaaand, we're back in the barracks," Bomber said from beside me, his hand going to his new rifle and rubbing the forward handgrip.

"It's like a nightmare I can't wake up from," Stokes said from behind me, lighting a cigarette.

"Home sweet home," Nancy said, hitching up her new aid bag.

"Someone wanna help my blind ass out of the truck?" Lancer yelled from the back of the Growler.

"I'll help you, keep your eyes in," William answered, moving past me.

"Har dee fucking har har, ya one eyed bastard," Lancer answered.

"It's pretty up here," Aine said from where she was standing on the running board of the Growler, holding onto the mirror and swinging back and forth like a little monkey.

"The building is bigger than my briefing made it sound," Innie told me, moving up next to me.

"We really aren't getting off this mountain alive, are we?" Dobbs asked, scratching her ass and then farting.

"Finish the fight," I said, my voice full of sarcasm.

"The barracks isn't going to repair itself, so you might as well quit standing around slacking off," 2LT Wright said from behind us. "I'm not putting up with any shamming while I'm in charge, so I hope you're all ready to work." He paused for a moment. "And you might as well forget about riding your profiles, you'll do what I decide you'll do." He snorted, his version of a laugh. "There ain't no JAG up here."

Snowflakes started drifting down.

...the ants go marching one by one...