Thump.
Sergeant Stovall slowly paced the line of dead marauders laid out in the hastly dug ditch. This particular bunch had made a try on the grain silo, trying to steal the seed grain that was stored there. PFC Parker had been on the ball, spotting the forms making thier way through the early morning fog, he mused, the PFC had earned himself an extra ration chit for sure.
Thump.
Two of his men, Privates Anderson and Yates tossed another mostly naked body into the ditch after they finished stripping the corpse of anything useable. Sergeant Stovall paused and looked over the collection of weapons, old bolt action rifles, a couple of shotguns, three AK-74s, a couple of battered M-16s, enough ammunition for about three seconds of fighting, a couple of home-made crossbows, and several makeshift spears and home-made shanks.
The clothing was equally battered and torn, when it was washed clean of the filth and blood, the stuff might make decent rags, Stovall thought to himself.
Thump.
Stovall looked down the line of corpses, a body count of eleven, LT will be pleased, he mused, taught them raggedly marauders a lesson, mess with Charlie Company and you get your ass handed to you!
Private Yates paused, holding a couple of .30-30 rounds that he had just pulled out of a pocket. "Anderson, this crap ever get you down?"
Anderson looked up as he pulled the bodies home-made sandals off, "Nope! Better us then them, at least we get two meals a day and decent clothes ta where!" He spit a thin stream of tobacco juice into the face of the dead marauder.
Yates, watched this final insult to the body and thought to himself....but these people are Americans too, aren't we supposed to be protecting the civilians?
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The reason that the American Army does so well in wartime, is that war is chaos, and the American Army practices chaos on a daily basis.
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