This is not your computer shooter, or the war in Afghanistan, as it is

Jeffrey Ingersoll — last sea infantryman, and now a military journalist, documentary filmmaker, writer and photographer.

After a 2-trips to Iraq, as a correspondent for the Marine Corps in April 2012, I went to Afghanistan, but as a civilian war correspondent. The subsequent history knows about the impromptu battle exit, during which one sea infantryman was injured and more than 20 Taliban killed.

I arrived in the midst of the events immediately after the attack on the headquarters of the Afghan police. On the attack at the camp reads as follows:

"The police chief Wali Coca now officially cooler than Chuck Norris."

It was said after the Marines learned that the chief of police neighborhood Musakelah survive a bandit attack. During the attack, he had holed up and down and lost one Eye.

A few of days earlier, in broad day or men in police uniforms on three bikes, drove up and parked in front of the police headquarters neighborhood. Men dismounted, turned to the guards and opened fire fire on them, killing them at once.

The attackers, without wasting time, stepped over the dead bodies came in the door and headed straight to the office of the chief.

"They are well oriented in the building, it was explored in advance, that's for sure," said Capt. Ben Middindorf, the company commander of the 2nd Battalion, 5th Regiment sea infantry. "And to them was a police form, all except shoes. On his feet were shoes, not boots."

First assailant broke into the office of Coca and released all of their own AK, hitting the police a couple of times. Coca fell to the floor, pulled out a gun and began to shoot, shooting was at close range. First assailant fell, and when the second attacker was wounded in the doorway, he blew own suicide bomber's belt.

As a result of the explosion was blown to pieces, and three iron ball that was stuffed with belt, police caught the eye.

"This young man was a major figure for the preservation of stability in the environment, and we knew that in his absence, we must do something to take back control," said Middindorf.

The idea was to take a company of Marines, about 200 people, secretly NIGHT MODE to advance to the point of meeting, there to rest, and then move in the direction of the main node of supply in the depths of the Taliban-controlled areas aggressively. This node, the operational base for the actions of the enemy in the area was a small village, under the title LeVar-Zhel-Jay.

This is what the Marines call "Roth in contact [with the enemy]."

"Pardon my French, but I could not for h .. believe it, and when I finally gave the order, I said — get ready for an attack on the front-LeVar Zhel-Jay. "

(Note creation: At the request of their own colleagues Marines — the story of Colton Carlson, the young Yankees which was quite the guy, that currently impose kroveostanavlivayuschie harnesses, before the gun smoke cleared. This is for you, Colton!)

At the near post. When planning and preparation is finished, the Marines are eating, smoking, joking and sleep tucked under her card.

Saving exposed, the other Marines rest. One fight on this day is over, will begin later than the other. Similarly, by the hour, when the sun starts to slope to the horizon …

Krak! Krak! The sound of shots from a Dragunov sniper rifle, it shoots an Afghan soldier. Suddenly opened fire on us almost from all directions.

Marines throw on the roof of the fighting, "rattles" and climb up there yourself.

In coordination with the Afghan military shooting, the Marines are consuming in 3 different directions. Shooting is at a certain pace and tempo, some Marines call it "singing".

Three or four machine-gun positions, one or two machine guns firing, others rest. And so, one by one, then repeats. Shooting is like a song.

In the end, the shooting dies down, but the Marines bdyat late into the night. At 3:00 am, we ran across to the other position.

Early in the afternoon, under cover of night, a company promoted to another position. To the east of us, behind this ridge, lies the village of LeVar-Zhel-Jay, which is owned by the Taliban.

Hot in the afternoon to 120 degrees (Fahrenheit, which is about 500 ° C), but the nights are cool to about 40 degrees (40 C). Marines in later soaked clothes after a 7-kilometer night patrol, crawl into our sleeping bags, trying to hide from the cold, and all sorts of creatures.

Someone just fell asleep where sat down, putting up all that was out of clothes. Someone gets angry and sleepy and lights, and later may not have time for a cigarette.

Knowing what lies ahead, and a long hot day, the Marines are trying to get rid of everything that is possible. All that is not fully fit, go to the back of the machine.

"First Strike Rations" (packed lunch) contains within itself the entire daily ration, as a bag of rubber bands "Stay Alert", any record which is equal to one cup of coffee. That morning I decided to eat the whole package, 6 plates, and by the time we arrived at LeVar-Zhel-Jay, my tongue swelled to the size of a large yellowish lips to wash the floor.

Passing day along the crest of the ridge, we encountered a herd of cattle. This is not a zoo: the Marines are not recommended to come in contact with at least what animals to avoid insect bites and infection with germs.

The Marines are in the tracks of a string, this is being done to avoid the rush on a homemade landmine. I repeat steps neatly walking ahead of me Marines.

We go to the village, the units move in a staggered manner. Everyone should know where the battlefield are other units. In the distance is heard sporadic shooting.

Sergeant Justin Rittenberger scans a small group of buildings to the left of us. Unit to the right of us came under fire, and we are advancing to a position where we can support them with machine-gun fire.

240B machine gun of 7.62 is powerful enough to sew the armor Humvee. Corporal Cedric Hay shows Corporal Kyle Lamayru goals in the location of enemy fortifications.

When Corporal Lamayr opens fir
e on the buildings on the left side of the compound, the Marines begin to move to the right …

… C4 fix mine on the wall, set a timer and go around the corner of the structure.

Marines make their passes inside. Going through the existing gate or door, it is a sure method to run into a homemade mine.

The smoke had not yet had time to dissipate, and the Marines are already inside. They use an explosion and smoke, so dezorentirovat opponent.

After cleaning the compound of the enemy, we continued our progress towards LeVar-Zhel-Jay, all the way for us was conducted chaotic fire.

Poppy field. Indescribably beautiful flowers from which the poisonous "paste" as it is called. But the beauty is the last thing I think for the moment. Rittenberger points to the place where it can be laid homemade bomb.

This is me to jump over the place designated Rittenbergerom that there was not. Pay attention to the APC on the crest of the ridge, it's another unit came to support our left flank, because we're heading straight into a narrow pass between us and 2 hundred square meters for the Taliban mound.

"Have you ever been in a real fight?" Rhett yells. "For sure, not in a way you referred to this" cry of the same coin twice cavalier Purple Heart.

We are located in a line at the top of the mound and begin to shoot down the village. When the bullets start flying, we litsezreem that the last group of inhabitants of the village are rescued from a fight.

Marines define the position of the enemy's sharpshooters. Directly in front of us a group of enemy fighters take positions that are located at a distance of 300 to 1000 meters from us. The Taliban are fire from a distance, but their "spotters" are much closer to us, they send fire on the radio of their own comrades.

"This young man in a blue ManJams, shoot, shoot, kill him!" ('Manjams' denotes odezhku of the 1st piece of tissue, which is most of the Afghans living in rural areas). Talib tried to escape, but the blue color of good omen for the local landscape and Lamayr put it.

After a few seconds or minutes, I heard the sound of vzhzhzhik a few feet from me, and 2nd Lt. Mike Rhodes, a young man who was lying near me, turns around and says: "I am wounded. I am wounded." Men began to act simultaneously to remove Mike from the band of fire.

Surprisingly, but Rhodes can still move. Later, he read to me, "I thought I got hit with a sledgehammer."

Now it's just a living hell. Bullets fly around us, I hear them whistling over his head and dig into the ground in front of me. Have to admit, I lay on my back and pressed into the ground as much as can be.

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