Whoooop, whoooop, whoooop, whoooop; the blades of the chopper thumped their endless rhythm in my ears. We were going in again and I knew it was going to bad. The REMF Mother Fuckers never sent us to any fuckin picnics! We were always the designate, unwanted, party crashers. I was getting sick of this shit, our fucking platoon was a bunch of God Damned cherries and not because we sending men home because their year was up.

Oh they were going home alright, IN A FUCKING BODY BAG! Short on men, short on experience, the only thing we were long on was dead men.

KA-BOOM!! The shreds of the chopper in front of us went ricocheting off of and flying past our chopper. One piece of hot steel came through the door taking the left side door gunner in the chest. He was deader than fucking shit two minutes later. The extreme heat caused by the explosion was so fucking intense it hurt my lungs when I inhaled a breath.

The cherries started fucking screamin and cryin. What a cluster fuck!

"You men shut the fuck up," I yell over the thumping of the rotors. "

"Welcome to the NAM ladies," I said turning to my right hand man.

Dickson, Get on that sixty," I said pointing at the unmanned gun.

Dickson, a big fucking Brit that quit the SAS to come here joined the Army so he could fight, was my best asset. The man was a true fucking warrior through and through.

The chopper was filling with smoke and I could hear a strange whine coming from the engine.

"Mayday, Mayday this is Black Dog six, I repeat, this is Black Dog six we are going down."I heard the pilot calling in.

That was all he got out, with the heavy small arms fire we were taking somebody got lucky. Blood brains and bone spattered all over the cockpit and the cherries all started to wail again.

Looking out I could see we were over a river and it was better than going down with the ship. I tapped Dickson to get his attention.

"Let me try to get these fuckers to jump, get ready," he nodded his understanding as I turned to the four cherries.

"Okay Ladies saddle up it is time to abandon ship! Lets Go, Go, Go!"

I didn't wait for these guys to jump I figured them seeing the vets bailing out would get more activity then nurse maiding could. I grabbed my rifle, an extra ammo bandoleer and bailed with Dickson coming right behind me.

I'll give it to em, the cherries did bail problem was two were too late and landed hard on the ground on the occupied side of the river. I hated it, but they were lost. The second cherry to bail made a bad landing on a log jam. I could see the old dead limb he was impaled on. Sad really, I didn't even know his name.

The first cherry actually hit mid river and could swim without throwing his rifle away. We were under heavy fire I just kept stroking even though my arms and legs felt like jello. I still had my full pack, complete complement of ammo, plus the extra bandoleer, as well as my rifle.

I was about done in when I made the less dangerous bank of the river. I don't know if I could have swum another ten feet. I hid behind a log for a few seconds trying get a little strength back. I had just swam almost seventy feet fighting the current and all the while carrying an extra sixty pounds. I was fucking hit!

Getting set to push up over the bank and try to crawl into the tall elephant grass when I heard Dickson.

"Sarge, toss your shit up over the bank then give me your hand."

That was about all the invite I needed. I tossed the bandoleer up into the grass. Then I took off my pack and tossed that up. I slung my rifle across my back and thrust up my hand. One of Dickson's giant hands reached down grabbed mine and with a little assistance from my legs he launched me up over the bank.

I felt the impact, it hurt like hell! Almost as if someone wearing a pair of brass knuckles punched me right in the back!

I woke up drenched in sweat. Looking at the clock through blurry eyes all I could tell by the glowing blue numbers was it was too early AM. The pounding throb where I had been shot all those years ago was a constant reminder that my dream was no made up fairy tale. It was far from being a concoction of a over active subconscious, it was the reliving of a moment in time in vivid color.

I took a pall-mall from the much abused pack on my nightstand and lit up. I don't know if it was the nicotine or what, but there was something calming about a smoke after waking from the dream. This morning would make the one thousand seven hundred and thirty eighth time I relived that hellish day. Why I was obsessed with how often I had the dream was beyond me but kept track. I went on that same fate filled chopper ride an average of three nights a week and every time just as real as the first.

After butting my smoke I decided to get up and get the day started. After a quick shower I had a bit of breakfast and three fingers of cheap ass bourbon, that made Jack Daniel's taste like the good shit.

I went over and turned on the stereo, tv wouldn't have anything on for a while being only four-thirty am. The Sansui had a great sound for a PX bought stereo. I never regretted the purchase. I jammed to The Who, "My Generation," while I twisted up a joint of some good smoke I had scored the week before. I decided I should roll up an extra for the drive to Ann Arbor. I had an eleven am appointment with Dr. Russell at VA Hospital and would need a bit of relaxation for the ride.

Even with a good buzz the ride was pure misery. I hated driving across the state just to have the head shrink tell me shit I already knew and say "I'm not sure," as an answer to every question I asked. The only reason I kept going was because it was required hoop jump I had to perform to get my monthly allotment of drugs.

After finding a parking spot I sat in the car for a minute. I was early and in no rush to talk to the Doc anyway. I set there listening to my new Harman Kardon stereo. Yeah Man! This fucker was awesome and at pennies on the dollar I couldn't resist even on my meager income. Don't let anybody fool ya, the government don't pay Vets much on disability.

Finally I decided to quit stalling and go spend my happy time with the Doc so I could get my script for resupply. After signing in I took a seat and waited. I must have zoned out or dozed off or something, because it startled me when the stone fox, corpsmen (or more precise WOMAN in this case) Nelson called my name.

Setting in the office I was startled when this hot fucking redhead came in and sat down.

"Good Morning Mr. Wells," she said looking at my paperwork.

"I'm Dr. Buchanan, Dr. Russell's replacement.

"Morning I mumbled," checking her out.

This was one hot babe! A couple years older than me, thirty three, thirty four Tops! She had a fucking body to die for, big tits and a fucking killer CAN! Her hair was loose and wavy hanging to the middle of her back. I was getting a good visual of myself pumping load after load of hot stringy jiz into her hair. The shit was fucking oozing down her face...

"Mr. Wells are you here with me."

I snapped to as soon as she spoke.

"Yes Mam, I'm with you," I said putting more enthusiasm into my answer than I had anything in a good long while.

"Good," she smiled very crisply putting absolutely no warmth in it.

"Your file says you were wounded in combat, could you please tell me where you were wounded," she asked with the same cold smile.

I knew what she wanted. She wanted me to tell her I was shot in the back and then go from there and spill about the whole deal, blah, blah, blah. She just wanted to get me talking. I decided instead of that it would be better to spend the next half hour yanking this ice cold bitch's chain.

"Yes Mam, I was wounded in Cambodia!"

Her eyes flicked up from the paper she was looking at faster than shit.