NEW FIC: Of Human Glory (Military AU) 1/2
May. 3rd, 2008 07:00 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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monaboyd_monthTitle: Of Human Glory
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sassywitch
Fandom: LOTRPS
Characters: Monaboyd
Word Count: 3462
Beta:celtprincess13.Thanks hon.
Rating: M
Summary:
Disclaimer: Don't own them or they'd be where they really want to be.
Author's Notes: I've had this sitting in my WIP folder for years because I haven't had time to really research the finer points I needed to, so please forgive any medical or military inaccuracies that have occurred.
OF HUMAN GLORY
"Of Human Glory",
from Milton's Paradise Lost.
To Overcome in Battle, and subdue
Nations, and bring home spoils with infinite
Man-slaughter, shall be held the highest pitch
Of Human Glory.
Washington
Billy Boyd stood before the black granite wall and let his eyes travel over the names of men who shouldn’t have had to give the ultimate sacrifice. He had come here alone in the predawn drizzle, leaving even Dominic at the hotel. He couldn’t do this in front of any of the others, not even Dom. His amber-green eyes, covered by mirrored lenses, teared up as he recognized the names of so many friends. Friends so long gone, but never forgotten. Tears welled in his eyes as they lingered over each name he knew, young faces so clearly etched in his aging mind. His hands trembled as he ran them through ginger hair long since streaked to silver as he remembered. Friends, boys that had died as men, fighting to defend a country so far from their own home were never as far from him as they were at that moment. He wiped tremulous tears from eyes that had cried too much as he found the name of the man he had come to pay homage to. A man whose selfless actions and strength of heart had given him the one who had become his world. His fingers shook as he traced the name, falling to his knees as he pressed his forehead against the cold monument and cried. His memories washed over him like a wave.
Vietnam, 1968
Dom smiled to himself as the C130 slammed into the hot tarmac after a relatively short flight from their training ground. The oppressive moist heat was already making his stiff fresh cammies cling to his body like an illfitting skin. His hand tightened around his M16, watching as the other men fidgeted in their seats. This was what he was here for. This was what he wanted to do, to fight, for God, honour and country. Even if all he could do was his own small part for the free world. He couldn’t waste precious time waiting for his country to decide they wanted to be part of the war, so he had found one that would take him. He had lied, begged, bribed and cajoled his way into a uniform. And it was airborne infantry, no less. In rapid succession he had completed advanced individual training and jump school. The last seven months of his life had been spent training in combat survival; proud to become one of the youngest LRRPs to complete training.
Now, as his plane touched down, he clutched his orders in one suddenly sweaty hand, and his newest and currently only friend, the M16 clutched in the other. A hundred pound rucksack on his back completed the picture as he waited for the order to disembark. His pride at his achievements was only surpassed by his unmitigated glee at his posting. He was on his way to becoming a part of one of the most decorated LRP teams in the country. The same team that thus far had never lost a single member to the enemy. As soon as he had received his posting, he had done his research. He knew that he wasn’t doing what he had dreaded, he wasn’t filling a dead man’s position, he was replacing a ‘short timer’.
A short jeep ride later and he found himself in the stark surrounds of Firebase Lorien and standing before the prefab, box-like hut that constituted the office of Captain Ian McKellen. Knocking sharply on the door, Dom waited until he was beckoned in.
Stepping swiftly inside the noisy, ineffectively air conditioned hut, he slipped his cap from his head and saluted the two men who stood poring over maps spread on the scarred desk that stood between him and them.
“PFC Dominic Monaghan reporting for duty, Sirs.” He snapped to attention and handed his orders to the Lieutenant who extended his hand.
“How old are you, son?” Lt. Viggo Mortensen’s eyes narrowed.
“Old enough sir.” Dom answered quickly.
“Where from?” he almost snickered around the burning cigarette between his lips. “Why are you here, Monaghan?” Viggo asked laconically, but his eyes burnt into Dom’s skin with their intensity.
“From Manchester, Sir.” Dom spoke proudly, “To do what’s right, Sir!”
“What’s right is you should be back at home, in your own country.” Viggo spat, stepping closer to the young man. “Life here is a nightmare son, not the do-gooders paradise you think it is.”
“Didn’t think it was, Sir.” Dom answered quickly, “Whether it kills me or not, I’m going to do what I signed up to do.” He answered quickly, “It’s not going to kill me,” he added, “I’m the best in my class, Sir!”
“Cocky little thing aren’t you?” Viggo stretched to his full height and pushed his finger into Dom’s chest. “Fine, you want to die young, stay here; if you don’t, take your gear and I’ll arrange your discharge papers.” He leaned closer speaking through gritted teeth. “But make sure you know what you are doing, right here and right now.”
“Yes, Sir!” Dom swallowed hard but stood his ground and refused to back down.
Viggo stood watching for a few long moments before he exchanged a glance with his commanding officer and smiled wryly. “Last hootch at the end of the row,” he nodded, “Tell Sergeant Bean I said to find you a bunk.”
“Yes Sir!” Dom parroted, snapping a respectful salute at his new LT and Captain before turning on his heel and walking quickly from the hut.
Lifting his rucksack from the ground outside the door he allowed his wide gray-blue eyes to take in his surroundings. Huge dirt mounds did their small piece to protect the men and women that inhabited the base from the dense grasses and scraggly trees that surrounded the large expanse of the Firebase. Set apart from what was obviously the living quarters, three huge Huey’s sat on the helipads being serviced. The place was a hive of activity, people going about their daily duties all around him. He walked quickly down the row of hootches, stopping at the final camouflage net-shrouded aluminum shell that was about to become his new home.
Dom stood in front of the door listening to the friendly banter from inside, and for the first time since his arrival, was completely unsure of himself. He wasn’t stupid; he knew that he was basically a green kid from Manchester. No amount of training could really prepare him for what he knew he was about to face in battle, yet here he stood, afraid to announce his presence to arguably the best unit in Vietnam. They were legendary among the ranks, many of the men in their midst bearing multiple decorations and the unit itself had received several commendations.
Rapping sharply on the door, he didn’t have to wait for a summons. A tall red headed man wearing the uniform of a sergeant threw open the door.
“Sgt. Bean.” Dom spoke snapping sharply to attention. “Lt. Mortensen sent me. I’m joining the unit.”
“I’m David.” He spoke softly, “Beanie,” the redhead threw over his shoulder “Viggo sent a cherry for ya.”
“I’d leave now, son,” a deep voice spoke from the shadows of the room. “While you’ve still got the chance.”
“Leave him alone boys,” came another voice, the first really American voice he’d heard since the door opened.
“How long before the LT expects us to be snapping to attention like that?” another voice asked.
“Leave the boy alone,” a laughing Scottish voice spoke from somewhere within the shadows of the room.
“C’mon in son and don’t pay them no mind.”
A second sergeant stepped out from behind the door, a hand extended in greeting.
“Name's Bean. Sean Bean.” He spoke in a thick Yorkshire accent as he ushered the smaller man into the interior of the building.
“Lt. Mortensen said that you would find me a bunk.” Dom spoke, his eyes hungrily drinking in the interior of the building and his new companions as he followed the larger man through.
“Sure thing, kid.” He replied, a smile in his words. “I think you should have the bunk over there, beside Billy, where he can keep an eye on you.”
Dom dropped his rucksack on the end of the indicated bed and turned to salute Sgt. Bean. “Thank you sir,” he spoke quickly.
“Drop the sir crap, Kid.” He waved his salute away with an almost embarrassed gesture. “Around here I’m Beanie or Sarge, Viggo is LT. And just for the record, next time I see you salute anyone, I’ll shoot you myself. I’m no sniper’s target.” He looked Dom up and down appraisingly. “Where the hell did you get that hat?” he frowned, lifting the soft brimmed cloth hat off the younger man’s head.
“It’s a lot more comfortable than the pot, sir, and I earned the right to wear it.” Dom spoke quickly as he watched his hat being flung from person to person, from one side of the room to the other.
“Ahh, yes.” Beanie smiled and flicked the side of Dom’s head with a gentle finger. “But it’s no protection against Charlie’s own personal variety of air conditioning.” His smile faded. “We’ve got sniper problems here kid, while you’re in this unit you wear the helmet whenever you’re outside.”
“Leave him alone, Beanie.” The soft Scottish brogue sounded calmly from where the one called Billy sat cleaning his weapon without looking up.
Ignoring Billy’s soft spoken words, Beanie reached out and touched Dom’s weapon. “So kid, that’s a mighty big gun for such a little tacker. Can you handle it?”
“I can handle myself.” Dom answered indignantly. He was proud of his marksmanship.
“We’ll see son.” Beanie watched him closely, well aware of the others lounging on their bunks watching the exchange. “We’ll see.”
“We’ve got a briefing for our next gig in twenty minutes, lad.” Billy spoke, “Best you try to get settled in.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
Fifteen minutes later the entire unit was assembled in the TOC (Tactical Operations Centre) waiting for their instructions for their next air mission.
"Morning, Gentlemen." Captain Ian McKellen entered the poorly ventilated shed and waited for the men who had snapped to attention to return to their seats before he spoke again. "As you are aware, a friendly village not fifty klicks from here is under threat from our opposing forces. One of the local operatives is trapped there," he began his briefing. The information he supplied, although succinct and to the point, saw the beginnings of information overload for Dom. Trying desperately to remember everything he was told, he began scribbling notes in the notepad he carried in a pocket on the inside of the flak jacket they all continually wore.
As he scratched notes rapidly in the notebook, Beanie's large hand closed around his and stilled the frantic workings of the pencil. Dom frowned at the smiling countenance of the older man but did as requested and ceased his note taking. He frowned, his mind not really grasping the reason for the larger man's actions, but he didn't have long to wait. As soon as the briefing was finished and the team moved from the TOC, his new Sergeant pulled Dom aside and spoke harshly to him.
"What do you think you are doing laddie?" Beanie asked his quickly, smacking him across the side of the head as he did.
"Taking notes, Sir," Dom answered honestly, confused by Beanie's smack and agitation.
"You think Charlie's gonna wait for you to flick through your notes before he shoots you?" he asked and kept speaking not waiting for a reply. "Better yet, what happens if God forbid, something happens to you? You've just handed Charlie a notebook full of intelligence to use against us."
"Anything else?" Dom stood taller, his mood a little bridled by Beanie's chiding but desperately wanting to learn all he could.
"Yeah," a slow cheeky grin crossed Beanie's face. "What did I tell you about that damn hat?" He lifted the soft cloth hat off Dom's head and flicked him on the shoulder with it before walking away with a slow whistled tune on his lips.
"C'mon Kid" David threw an arm around his shoulders and gestured to where Karl was leaning laconically against the corner of the hut, watching the proceedings with a lazy grin on his face.
"Thanks Sgt. Wenham" Dom stood taller and snapped a quick salute.
"Kid" Karl shook his head "Ain't much for formality in our team" He shrugged "He's Daisy, I'm Karl."
"Besides Dom I'd just as soon prefer that you stopped making us targets for the snipers" Daisy added
"Sorry Sgt's" Dom began "Karl, Daisy" he countered with a deferential nod.
"Hey lad!" Billy called from a larger hut that was adorned with sandbagged foxholes at its rear and sides and a large open area covered with camouflage netting. "You gonna get that skinny arse in here or what?" he paused watching Dom assessingly "Bring them with you."
"Look's like you're about to meet Digger Dan's saloon," Karl said as he pushed laconically off the side of the hut and started to walk towards the hut and Billy's smiling countenance.
Following the muscular Kiwi quickly, Dom was surprised as he entered the small building. Under the camouflage netting was a dance floor, several tables and chairs, a Wurlitzer jukebox and a huge bar that would have put an old west saloon to shame. He followed open mouthed behind Karl and Daisy, sinking into a chair that Billy kicked away from the table for him.
"What's up lad?" Billy smiled "You didn't think we could manage any class in country?"
"Didn't expect it Sir," Dom answered quickly.
"I've told you Kid, cut the Sir shite. I'm Billy, he's Karl, he's Daisy." he paused "Save the titles for outside the team."
"Hi Billy," a sweet feminine voice spoke from the doorway.
"Well hello, Miss Emilie," Billy spoke, standing to take her hand and kiss her knuckles in a display of old-worldly-charm, which brought a flush to the slim woman in well worn camo. "Can I buy you a drink?"
"Not this time, Billy" she replied "Just passing through on my way to duty."
"Well then, let me bid you adieu," Billy took her hand and walked towards the door, kissing her knuckles with another deep flourish before he leaned against the doorframe, waving as she walked towards what Dom already recognized as the base infirmary/hospital.
"He always like that?" Dom asked Daisy as he waited for the smaller man to resume his seat.
"Yep," Daisy spoke as a thin man with a sad face deposited three glasses of warm beer on their table.
"Howdy do," He tipped his Yankees baseball cap in greeting to Dom.
"Dom," Karl acknowledged the nod from the bar tender. "This is Hank. He runs the bar."
Dom returned the nod and gratefully claimed the liquid refreshment. Even warm beer was a blessed relief for the humid conditions they were trapped in.
"Civilian?" Dom asked.
"Aye," Billy answered.
"How many men on base?" Dom asked trying to change the subject and erase his commanding officer's quiet fury from his memory.
"A few," Daisy answered. "4 LRRP teams, a MASH unit, some missionaries that stay from time to time and a couple of Aussie units."
"You have women on base?" Dom frowned, watching three young ladies walk in dressed in camouflage pants and demure blouses.
"Only a handful," Karl replied as Billy motioned the girls toward them.
"Ladies," he began as he took one girls hand in his and kissed her as he had Emilie's. "I'd like you to meet the newest member of Team 7," he gestured towards Dom. "Ladies this is PFC Dominic Monaghan," then he waved his hand back from Dom to the young ladies. "Dom, this is Evangeline, Miranda and Liv. Three of the finest Red Cross Aides you will ever meet."
"Billy why don't you just call us what everyone else does," Evangeline sighed impatiently as she stuck out a hand for Dom to shake. "We're donut dollies," she smiled, not even noticing Dom's appraising glance as it moved from her to Liv, who had casually taken a seat on Billy's knee. Miranda, though, however friendly, seemed to edge a little further away from the men, speaking only when spoken to.
"Ladies," a stern disembodied voice spoke from behind the camouflage netting. "Don't you have something constructive to be doing?"
"Yes, Ma'am" Liv spoke chastely as she sprang from Billy's lap, all three girls distancing themselves from the men, Dom sharing a nervous smile with Evangeline as she backed up.
"Major Blanchett," Billy stood to attention and saluted the newcomer. "We were just introducing the young ladies to our newest member"
"They don't need you distracting them from their duties, Sgt. Boyd," she stated as she glared at the young women who stood momentarily chagrined under the scrutiny then suddenly remembered somewhere else they needed to be.
"Do you think you could keep him in line and away from my girls, Karl?" she turned, her face changing from a disapproving scowl to a warm smile as she did.
"Sure can try, Miss Cate," Karl spoke sincerely.
"Just see that you do, Karl," she stated as she walked rapidly away from them in search of the young ladies who had dissipated almost into the atmosphere in their quest to get away from the Major.
"How the hell did you get in so sweet with her?" Billy hissed at Karl, shaking his head as he watched her rounding up her charges.
~*~*~*~*~
Dawn the following morning came early. A truly chagrined Dom had his pack checked and rechecked before Billy was satisfied it wouldn't rattle. Dom knew as well as any of them that a rattling pack could mean the end of the entire team if discovered by an enemy unit. He would be truly grateful at meal time that evening, he was sure as well, as Billy had taught him how to unpack and re-hydrate his freeze dried rations, then tape them shut and carry them inside his front shirt pocket. He had shrugged nonchalantly as Billy had explained the tactic to him but had happily gone through the exercise not wanting to pass up the tiny pieces of information a decorated hero casually tossed to a cherry like him.
The team stood on the helipad, fully kitted out waiting for the go ahead to climb into the Bell UH1 chopper or 'Huey' as they were affectionately known. Dom couldn't help but watch it with more than a little trepidation. With wide eyes he watched the pilot and copilot going through the pre-flight check as the team stood waiting for their leader. He could count on one hand the number of times that he had been in a Huey and blushed lightly as he realized the last time he had been on one he had lost his lunch right after his first rappelling success.
His mind lost in the memories of his embarrassment, he was surprised when his M16 was lifted from his hands. Dragging his mind back to the present, he wasn't surprised to see Billy checking his rifle. It was funny how his new Sergeant had so quickly become 'Billy' in his mind. He almost missed it as Billy thrust his rifle back into his hand and began to check the grenades that were decorating Dom's webbing. He watched a Billy nodded his head in approval.
"I know how to pack my gear, Billy," Dom sighed in frustration.
"What did we tell you about that damn hat?" Billy growled as he pulled the floppy cloth hat out from under Dom's webbing belt.
"I'm wearing the pot aren't I?" Dom growled angrily, tired of being treated like a child.
"Yeah I guess you are" Billy smiled as he knocked his knuckles against the side of the heavy helmet.
"You two think you might want to load up anytime soon?" Viggo's voice rang out from the inside of the Huey as the rotor blades began to turn above their heads.
"Any time lad," Billy replied with a mock salute as he whacked the back of Dom's helmet with an open hand, momentarily stunning the younger man into inactivity. Mere seconds later Dom pushed the helmet back from his eyes and looked into the grinning face of his Sergeant already sitting in the bed of the chopper.
"You coming with us lad?" he smiled, as he watched Dom sling his rifle and his pack and climb into the chopper beside him.
Author:
sassywitchFandom: LOTRPS
Characters: Monaboyd
Word Count: 3462
Beta:
celtprincess13.Thanks hon. Rating: M
Summary:
Disclaimer: Don't own them or they'd be where they really want to be.
Author's Notes: I've had this sitting in my WIP folder for years because I haven't had time to really research the finer points I needed to, so please forgive any medical or military inaccuracies that have occurred.
"Of Human Glory",
from Milton's Paradise Lost.
To Overcome in Battle, and subdue
Nations, and bring home spoils with infinite
Man-slaughter, shall be held the highest pitch
Of Human Glory.
Washington
Billy Boyd stood before the black granite wall and let his eyes travel over the names of men who shouldn’t have had to give the ultimate sacrifice. He had come here alone in the predawn drizzle, leaving even Dominic at the hotel. He couldn’t do this in front of any of the others, not even Dom. His amber-green eyes, covered by mirrored lenses, teared up as he recognized the names of so many friends. Friends so long gone, but never forgotten. Tears welled in his eyes as they lingered over each name he knew, young faces so clearly etched in his aging mind. His hands trembled as he ran them through ginger hair long since streaked to silver as he remembered. Friends, boys that had died as men, fighting to defend a country so far from their own home were never as far from him as they were at that moment. He wiped tremulous tears from eyes that had cried too much as he found the name of the man he had come to pay homage to. A man whose selfless actions and strength of heart had given him the one who had become his world. His fingers shook as he traced the name, falling to his knees as he pressed his forehead against the cold monument and cried. His memories washed over him like a wave.
Vietnam, 1968
Dom smiled to himself as the C130 slammed into the hot tarmac after a relatively short flight from their training ground. The oppressive moist heat was already making his stiff fresh cammies cling to his body like an illfitting skin. His hand tightened around his M16, watching as the other men fidgeted in their seats. This was what he was here for. This was what he wanted to do, to fight, for God, honour and country. Even if all he could do was his own small part for the free world. He couldn’t waste precious time waiting for his country to decide they wanted to be part of the war, so he had found one that would take him. He had lied, begged, bribed and cajoled his way into a uniform. And it was airborne infantry, no less. In rapid succession he had completed advanced individual training and jump school. The last seven months of his life had been spent training in combat survival; proud to become one of the youngest LRRPs to complete training.
Now, as his plane touched down, he clutched his orders in one suddenly sweaty hand, and his newest and currently only friend, the M16 clutched in the other. A hundred pound rucksack on his back completed the picture as he waited for the order to disembark. His pride at his achievements was only surpassed by his unmitigated glee at his posting. He was on his way to becoming a part of one of the most decorated LRP teams in the country. The same team that thus far had never lost a single member to the enemy. As soon as he had received his posting, he had done his research. He knew that he wasn’t doing what he had dreaded, he wasn’t filling a dead man’s position, he was replacing a ‘short timer’.
A short jeep ride later and he found himself in the stark surrounds of Firebase Lorien and standing before the prefab, box-like hut that constituted the office of Captain Ian McKellen. Knocking sharply on the door, Dom waited until he was beckoned in.
Stepping swiftly inside the noisy, ineffectively air conditioned hut, he slipped his cap from his head and saluted the two men who stood poring over maps spread on the scarred desk that stood between him and them.
“PFC Dominic Monaghan reporting for duty, Sirs.” He snapped to attention and handed his orders to the Lieutenant who extended his hand.
“How old are you, son?” Lt. Viggo Mortensen’s eyes narrowed.
“Old enough sir.” Dom answered quickly.
“Where from?” he almost snickered around the burning cigarette between his lips. “Why are you here, Monaghan?” Viggo asked laconically, but his eyes burnt into Dom’s skin with their intensity.
“From Manchester, Sir.” Dom spoke proudly, “To do what’s right, Sir!”
“What’s right is you should be back at home, in your own country.” Viggo spat, stepping closer to the young man. “Life here is a nightmare son, not the do-gooders paradise you think it is.”
“Didn’t think it was, Sir.” Dom answered quickly, “Whether it kills me or not, I’m going to do what I signed up to do.” He answered quickly, “It’s not going to kill me,” he added, “I’m the best in my class, Sir!”
“Cocky little thing aren’t you?” Viggo stretched to his full height and pushed his finger into Dom’s chest. “Fine, you want to die young, stay here; if you don’t, take your gear and I’ll arrange your discharge papers.” He leaned closer speaking through gritted teeth. “But make sure you know what you are doing, right here and right now.”
“Yes, Sir!” Dom swallowed hard but stood his ground and refused to back down.
Viggo stood watching for a few long moments before he exchanged a glance with his commanding officer and smiled wryly. “Last hootch at the end of the row,” he nodded, “Tell Sergeant Bean I said to find you a bunk.”
“Yes Sir!” Dom parroted, snapping a respectful salute at his new LT and Captain before turning on his heel and walking quickly from the hut.
Lifting his rucksack from the ground outside the door he allowed his wide gray-blue eyes to take in his surroundings. Huge dirt mounds did their small piece to protect the men and women that inhabited the base from the dense grasses and scraggly trees that surrounded the large expanse of the Firebase. Set apart from what was obviously the living quarters, three huge Huey’s sat on the helipads being serviced. The place was a hive of activity, people going about their daily duties all around him. He walked quickly down the row of hootches, stopping at the final camouflage net-shrouded aluminum shell that was about to become his new home.
Dom stood in front of the door listening to the friendly banter from inside, and for the first time since his arrival, was completely unsure of himself. He wasn’t stupid; he knew that he was basically a green kid from Manchester. No amount of training could really prepare him for what he knew he was about to face in battle, yet here he stood, afraid to announce his presence to arguably the best unit in Vietnam. They were legendary among the ranks, many of the men in their midst bearing multiple decorations and the unit itself had received several commendations.
Rapping sharply on the door, he didn’t have to wait for a summons. A tall red headed man wearing the uniform of a sergeant threw open the door.
“Sgt. Bean.” Dom spoke snapping sharply to attention. “Lt. Mortensen sent me. I’m joining the unit.”
“I’m David.” He spoke softly, “Beanie,” the redhead threw over his shoulder “Viggo sent a cherry for ya.”
“I’d leave now, son,” a deep voice spoke from the shadows of the room. “While you’ve still got the chance.”
“Leave him alone boys,” came another voice, the first really American voice he’d heard since the door opened.
“How long before the LT expects us to be snapping to attention like that?” another voice asked.
“Leave the boy alone,” a laughing Scottish voice spoke from somewhere within the shadows of the room.
“C’mon in son and don’t pay them no mind.”
A second sergeant stepped out from behind the door, a hand extended in greeting.
“Name's Bean. Sean Bean.” He spoke in a thick Yorkshire accent as he ushered the smaller man into the interior of the building.
“Lt. Mortensen said that you would find me a bunk.” Dom spoke, his eyes hungrily drinking in the interior of the building and his new companions as he followed the larger man through.
“Sure thing, kid.” He replied, a smile in his words. “I think you should have the bunk over there, beside Billy, where he can keep an eye on you.”
Dom dropped his rucksack on the end of the indicated bed and turned to salute Sgt. Bean. “Thank you sir,” he spoke quickly.
“Drop the sir crap, Kid.” He waved his salute away with an almost embarrassed gesture. “Around here I’m Beanie or Sarge, Viggo is LT. And just for the record, next time I see you salute anyone, I’ll shoot you myself. I’m no sniper’s target.” He looked Dom up and down appraisingly. “Where the hell did you get that hat?” he frowned, lifting the soft brimmed cloth hat off the younger man’s head.
“It’s a lot more comfortable than the pot, sir, and I earned the right to wear it.” Dom spoke quickly as he watched his hat being flung from person to person, from one side of the room to the other.
“Ahh, yes.” Beanie smiled and flicked the side of Dom’s head with a gentle finger. “But it’s no protection against Charlie’s own personal variety of air conditioning.” His smile faded. “We’ve got sniper problems here kid, while you’re in this unit you wear the helmet whenever you’re outside.”
“Leave him alone, Beanie.” The soft Scottish brogue sounded calmly from where the one called Billy sat cleaning his weapon without looking up.
Ignoring Billy’s soft spoken words, Beanie reached out and touched Dom’s weapon. “So kid, that’s a mighty big gun for such a little tacker. Can you handle it?”
“I can handle myself.” Dom answered indignantly. He was proud of his marksmanship.
“We’ll see son.” Beanie watched him closely, well aware of the others lounging on their bunks watching the exchange. “We’ll see.”
“We’ve got a briefing for our next gig in twenty minutes, lad.” Billy spoke, “Best you try to get settled in.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
Fifteen minutes later the entire unit was assembled in the TOC (Tactical Operations Centre) waiting for their instructions for their next air mission.
"Morning, Gentlemen." Captain Ian McKellen entered the poorly ventilated shed and waited for the men who had snapped to attention to return to their seats before he spoke again. "As you are aware, a friendly village not fifty klicks from here is under threat from our opposing forces. One of the local operatives is trapped there," he began his briefing. The information he supplied, although succinct and to the point, saw the beginnings of information overload for Dom. Trying desperately to remember everything he was told, he began scribbling notes in the notepad he carried in a pocket on the inside of the flak jacket they all continually wore.
As he scratched notes rapidly in the notebook, Beanie's large hand closed around his and stilled the frantic workings of the pencil. Dom frowned at the smiling countenance of the older man but did as requested and ceased his note taking. He frowned, his mind not really grasping the reason for the larger man's actions, but he didn't have long to wait. As soon as the briefing was finished and the team moved from the TOC, his new Sergeant pulled Dom aside and spoke harshly to him.
"What do you think you are doing laddie?" Beanie asked his quickly, smacking him across the side of the head as he did.
"Taking notes, Sir," Dom answered honestly, confused by Beanie's smack and agitation.
"You think Charlie's gonna wait for you to flick through your notes before he shoots you?" he asked and kept speaking not waiting for a reply. "Better yet, what happens if God forbid, something happens to you? You've just handed Charlie a notebook full of intelligence to use against us."
"Anything else?" Dom stood taller, his mood a little bridled by Beanie's chiding but desperately wanting to learn all he could.
"Yeah," a slow cheeky grin crossed Beanie's face. "What did I tell you about that damn hat?" He lifted the soft cloth hat off Dom's head and flicked him on the shoulder with it before walking away with a slow whistled tune on his lips.
"C'mon Kid" David threw an arm around his shoulders and gestured to where Karl was leaning laconically against the corner of the hut, watching the proceedings with a lazy grin on his face.
"Thanks Sgt. Wenham" Dom stood taller and snapped a quick salute.
"Kid" Karl shook his head "Ain't much for formality in our team" He shrugged "He's Daisy, I'm Karl."
"Besides Dom I'd just as soon prefer that you stopped making us targets for the snipers" Daisy added
"Sorry Sgt's" Dom began "Karl, Daisy" he countered with a deferential nod.
"Hey lad!" Billy called from a larger hut that was adorned with sandbagged foxholes at its rear and sides and a large open area covered with camouflage netting. "You gonna get that skinny arse in here or what?" he paused watching Dom assessingly "Bring them with you."
"Look's like you're about to meet Digger Dan's saloon," Karl said as he pushed laconically off the side of the hut and started to walk towards the hut and Billy's smiling countenance.
Following the muscular Kiwi quickly, Dom was surprised as he entered the small building. Under the camouflage netting was a dance floor, several tables and chairs, a Wurlitzer jukebox and a huge bar that would have put an old west saloon to shame. He followed open mouthed behind Karl and Daisy, sinking into a chair that Billy kicked away from the table for him.
"What's up lad?" Billy smiled "You didn't think we could manage any class in country?"
"Didn't expect it Sir," Dom answered quickly.
"I've told you Kid, cut the Sir shite. I'm Billy, he's Karl, he's Daisy." he paused "Save the titles for outside the team."
"Hi Billy," a sweet feminine voice spoke from the doorway.
"Well hello, Miss Emilie," Billy spoke, standing to take her hand and kiss her knuckles in a display of old-worldly-charm, which brought a flush to the slim woman in well worn camo. "Can I buy you a drink?"
"Not this time, Billy" she replied "Just passing through on my way to duty."
"Well then, let me bid you adieu," Billy took her hand and walked towards the door, kissing her knuckles with another deep flourish before he leaned against the doorframe, waving as she walked towards what Dom already recognized as the base infirmary/hospital.
"He always like that?" Dom asked Daisy as he waited for the smaller man to resume his seat.
"Yep," Daisy spoke as a thin man with a sad face deposited three glasses of warm beer on their table.
"Howdy do," He tipped his Yankees baseball cap in greeting to Dom.
"Dom," Karl acknowledged the nod from the bar tender. "This is Hank. He runs the bar."
Dom returned the nod and gratefully claimed the liquid refreshment. Even warm beer was a blessed relief for the humid conditions they were trapped in.
"Civilian?" Dom asked.
"Aye," Billy answered.
"How many men on base?" Dom asked trying to change the subject and erase his commanding officer's quiet fury from his memory.
"A few," Daisy answered. "4 LRRP teams, a MASH unit, some missionaries that stay from time to time and a couple of Aussie units."
"You have women on base?" Dom frowned, watching three young ladies walk in dressed in camouflage pants and demure blouses.
"Only a handful," Karl replied as Billy motioned the girls toward them.
"Ladies," he began as he took one girls hand in his and kissed her as he had Emilie's. "I'd like you to meet the newest member of Team 7," he gestured towards Dom. "Ladies this is PFC Dominic Monaghan," then he waved his hand back from Dom to the young ladies. "Dom, this is Evangeline, Miranda and Liv. Three of the finest Red Cross Aides you will ever meet."
"Billy why don't you just call us what everyone else does," Evangeline sighed impatiently as she stuck out a hand for Dom to shake. "We're donut dollies," she smiled, not even noticing Dom's appraising glance as it moved from her to Liv, who had casually taken a seat on Billy's knee. Miranda, though, however friendly, seemed to edge a little further away from the men, speaking only when spoken to.
"Ladies," a stern disembodied voice spoke from behind the camouflage netting. "Don't you have something constructive to be doing?"
"Yes, Ma'am" Liv spoke chastely as she sprang from Billy's lap, all three girls distancing themselves from the men, Dom sharing a nervous smile with Evangeline as she backed up.
"Major Blanchett," Billy stood to attention and saluted the newcomer. "We were just introducing the young ladies to our newest member"
"They don't need you distracting them from their duties, Sgt. Boyd," she stated as she glared at the young women who stood momentarily chagrined under the scrutiny then suddenly remembered somewhere else they needed to be.
"Do you think you could keep him in line and away from my girls, Karl?" she turned, her face changing from a disapproving scowl to a warm smile as she did.
"Sure can try, Miss Cate," Karl spoke sincerely.
"Just see that you do, Karl," she stated as she walked rapidly away from them in search of the young ladies who had dissipated almost into the atmosphere in their quest to get away from the Major.
"How the hell did you get in so sweet with her?" Billy hissed at Karl, shaking his head as he watched her rounding up her charges.
~*~*~*~*~
Dawn the following morning came early. A truly chagrined Dom had his pack checked and rechecked before Billy was satisfied it wouldn't rattle. Dom knew as well as any of them that a rattling pack could mean the end of the entire team if discovered by an enemy unit. He would be truly grateful at meal time that evening, he was sure as well, as Billy had taught him how to unpack and re-hydrate his freeze dried rations, then tape them shut and carry them inside his front shirt pocket. He had shrugged nonchalantly as Billy had explained the tactic to him but had happily gone through the exercise not wanting to pass up the tiny pieces of information a decorated hero casually tossed to a cherry like him.
The team stood on the helipad, fully kitted out waiting for the go ahead to climb into the Bell UH1 chopper or 'Huey' as they were affectionately known. Dom couldn't help but watch it with more than a little trepidation. With wide eyes he watched the pilot and copilot going through the pre-flight check as the team stood waiting for their leader. He could count on one hand the number of times that he had been in a Huey and blushed lightly as he realized the last time he had been on one he had lost his lunch right after his first rappelling success.
His mind lost in the memories of his embarrassment, he was surprised when his M16 was lifted from his hands. Dragging his mind back to the present, he wasn't surprised to see Billy checking his rifle. It was funny how his new Sergeant had so quickly become 'Billy' in his mind. He almost missed it as Billy thrust his rifle back into his hand and began to check the grenades that were decorating Dom's webbing. He watched a Billy nodded his head in approval.
"I know how to pack my gear, Billy," Dom sighed in frustration.
"What did we tell you about that damn hat?" Billy growled as he pulled the floppy cloth hat out from under Dom's webbing belt.
"I'm wearing the pot aren't I?" Dom growled angrily, tired of being treated like a child.
"Yeah I guess you are" Billy smiled as he knocked his knuckles against the side of the heavy helmet.
"You two think you might want to load up anytime soon?" Viggo's voice rang out from the inside of the Huey as the rotor blades began to turn above their heads.
"Any time lad," Billy replied with a mock salute as he whacked the back of Dom's helmet with an open hand, momentarily stunning the younger man into inactivity. Mere seconds later Dom pushed the helmet back from his eyes and looked into the grinning face of his Sergeant already sitting in the bed of the chopper.
"You coming with us lad?" he smiled, as he watched Dom sling his rifle and his pack and climb into the chopper beside him.
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Date: 2008-05-03 01:19 am (UTC)I'm so happy you're working on this again! I simply LOVE it. Your Dom is incredibly endearing, and I love the camaraderie between the boys. You've really transported me to Vietnam. I can't wait for more!
♥ ♥ ♥