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Never Leave A Fallen Comrade
Never Leave A Fallen Comrade
Never Leave A Fallen Comrade
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Never Leave A Fallen Comrade

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Army Ranger and war veteran Chip Hendricks has seen most everything. A farm boy from Boise, he joins the Army to serve his country and help his family. Little does he realize his selfless act will help so many more. But it's the journey that can be life changing and with love in his life, he takes on destiny. There are elements out there that will challenge him in every which way. A showdown at the cabin on the family farm leads to involvement with the FBI, biker gangs, and a renegade militia group in Montana. He finds love and meaning in finding a group ready to help animals in peril.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateAug 12, 2013
ISBN9781628478761
Never Leave A Fallen Comrade
Author

Steven Robert Alexander

Steven Robert Alexander, Lieutenant Colonel (Retired) U.S. Army has been writing stories and books all of his life. His creativity and imagination allow him to write on all subject matters from ghost stories, military adventure romances, children’s stories, high school sports, and romance stories.Steve served 28 years in the U.S. Army, partly active duty, Reserve and National Guard. He served two tours in the Middle East. In 2004 while serving as a Senior Advisor to an Iraqi Division Command he was awarded the Purple Heart for wounds sustained in a vehicle borne improvised explosive device, VBIED, a suicide bomber in a water tanker filled with explosives, detonated himself in close proximity. Steve has also been awarded the Combat Action Badge. He served a follow on tour late in his career in Kuwait, serving as an Operations Officer. He also served tours in Panama, Japan and Slovenia, sites that will be included in future novels.Steve is also an accomplished broadcaster, having hosted national radio shows on Cable Radio Network out of Los Angeles. He is an experienced talk show host and oldies music show host, most well known for the Major Ripster and the "B Team" Show that ran from 1999-2001. After 911, Steve volunteered for active duty and Iraq and spent the next ten years on active duty until his May 2011 retirement.Steve is an American Civil War and Ancient Greece historian, an Eagle Scout and high school football coach. He lives in Colorado and has five Grandchildren. He enjoys throwing theme parties, songwriting, and acting.

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    Never Leave A Fallen Comrade - Steven Robert Alexander

    Prologue

    There were 24 soldiers in the unit. The commander was a 27-year-old captain named Daniel Blanchard. Blanchard was a West Pointer and was geared to do a full twenty-year career and then see what came after that. The executive officer (XO) was 1st Lieutenant Ray Harmon. He was an ROTC graduate and 24 years old. Both of the officers were well-liked by their men and that ran from the NCO ranks down to the lower enlisted. They were all Rangers. They were all hard-core. They were all dedicated Americans. They all had committed to serve their country after September 11, 2001. While their college peers were making money and wearing suits and ties these men were in multi-cam colored battle dress uniforms. To begin with, it was one thing to volunteer for the service but the men of Charlie Company 4th Platoon had taken that to a much higher level.

    The XO, Lieutenant Harmon was a personable fellow. He was easy to work with and well liked by the troops. Earlier in his Ranger training the illusion had come out that he was too soft, too friendly, and too affable. That was a mistake made by the Ranger Cadre instructor who called him out.

    Candidate Harmon, I don't think you have what it takes to make it in this program. I think you’re weak. You are too passive. I think in the moment of truth when you might have to take a life that you hesitate and the good guys would die.

    Do you really believe that? LT Harmon gave the instructor a steely-eyed look.

    I'm afraid I do, and I just don't think you have it in you to wear the tab. The tab was the sliver of material the said Ranger that went on the left shoulder sleeve of the Army uniform.

    Harmon didn't say a word but simply removed his uniform top. That signified that the rank was off and it was going to be a man against man situation. There would be no retaliation or disciplinary action taken against either of the men. The men shook hands and then the Ranger Cadre instructor removed his top as well.

    The men had a chance to see who really was soft. And it was not what they expected. The instructor had no idea that Harmon was an all-state wrestler, state champion. All of the martial arts and bravado the instructor had was quickly overcome as Harmon had the man on his back in the first ten seconds of the match. When it was over the instructor rather than taking his humiliation as a man, challenged Harmon to a rematch. The Ranger commander on-site was about to call out his own man then looked over at Harmon.

    Candidate Harmon, are you good for another go around?

    Sure, sir, but let's do this, if I win this round, all instructors drop and do 100 push-ups. If I may sir, let’s make that for the entire Ranger cadre here. Let me know if you all accept my counter challenge.

    All right, candidate, and when, if you lose, all of you candidates will do 200 push-ups, deal?

    The lieutenant colonel could not remember the last time he was put on the spot like that. He laughed, smiled, and appreciated Harmon's spirit. He looked over at the Ranger instructor, a NCO in his late 20s.

    Well, Sergeant Lewis, it looks like you are representing all of us. Good luck. The lieutenant colonel was confident. The instructor was one of his studs. The colonel spoke the words with a smile on his face.

    Gentlemen, if you are ready let the match began, no holds barred, but I don't want a broken arms or legs if at all possible. The colonel blew his whistle.

    The men crashed together and no more than fifteen seconds into the rematch, Harmon had the instructor face first in the dirt with a dangerous grip on Lewis’ right leg.

    Colonel Handy, sir, I can break his right leg or tear his ACL and his MCL in the next ten seconds, actually quicker. Sergeant Lewis, do you concede?

    Fuck, OK. Sergeant Lewis had learned the brutal lesson, and there was nothing he could do. He knew he looked stupid with his face in the dirt with the Ranger candidate standing over him.

    Harmon immediately let go of Sergeant Lewis, reached over, and pulled him to his feet. Sergeant Lewis immediately tried to leave when Harmon called him out.

    Hey sergeant, let it go, I was a state champion high school wrestler in 167 pound class. I wrestled in college. You never had a chance.

    Sergeant Lewis turned around, stared at the Ranger candidate, and then laughed. He walked forward and shook Harmon's hand. You son of a bitch, all right Rangers, front lean and rest position, move. The entire Ranger cadre assumed the push-up position to include the colonel. The cadre was on their tenth push-up when all of the Ranger candidates got down on the ground and joined them. It was an amazing day in Rangerland at Fort Benning. Harmon’s Ranger class was one of the best in history.

    * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

    Chapter One

    Nowhere To Run

    The platoon had been dropped off at the outpost in the wee hours of the morning. All of the soldiers had their night vision goggles (NVGs) on and were using them. The soldiers ran for the makeshift structures that would be their home. It was only to be for three months but three months in the high ground of Afghanistan would feel like two years.

    The outpost was remote enough that when the need came for Close Air Support (CAS) or reinforcements, that there would be no instant fix. If the weather was bad and visibility was poor, it would make for an awful day.

    The huge CH-47 Chinook helicopter left the area as fast as it could because the Taliban firing from a higher ground always had the advantage. Several helicopters had been hit as they tried to leave this valley. The supplies, ammunition and Meals Ready to Eat (MREs) were quickly drug by the soldiers into the interior of the outpost.

    The outpost had a five-foot high sand/mud wall around it. Two of the buildings actually had roofs. There was a makeshift tower that stood fifteen feet high positioned in the middle of the outpost. It was there the observer would take a position and try to determine the distance and target information for the enemy that was all around. The whole outpost was a 25-meter by 35-meter rectangular shaped box with a wall around it.

    The men hunkered down for the night in any place they could find. The platoon sergeant was checking various locations on the walls and in the tower. He had to find where the weakest points were and make sure men were in position. It would be a long night, what was left of it as the men assembled their machine guns and made Range Cards. The Range Card was a quick reference drawing that showed distance and elevation. The soldiers using their distance finding binoculars determined exactly how far certain places in the hillside above them were.

    Sunrise would come in just a couple of hours and then they would all be up assessing their situation and determining how they could stay alive and if at all possible bring down some Taliban and any other enemy force.

    We are fucked, Sergeant Pinter looked at his combat buddies. This is total shit.

    Shut up, try to get some sleep. We'll sort it out tomorrow. Sergeant Chip Hendricks crawled in a sleeping bag as did the other soldiers and tried to wind down. The other soldiers in the squad as well tried to settle in. Two of the squad members were on guard duty while the other eight were getting some rest.

    In one of the buildings that had a roof, the unit commander, XO, and communications sergeant were trying to establish, commo with their higher headquarters.

    Shit sir, I can’t make the damn thing work. They've got us up here in the friggin mountains and I don't know what the fuck is going on. I can't even reach the chopper. The communications sergeant was pissed.

    Keep working on it, don't stop. We have to get communication up. Blanchard walked out of the building and stared at all the high ground that surrounded his position. He walked in the direction of the tower. What can you see from up there?

    Bad shit sir, everywhere I look they have the high ground. We are like fish in a barrel sir, or if you prefer ducks in a pond. The observer’s comments did little to encourage the captain.

    Just keep looking and start making notes where you think they best place they can hit us from and we'll start targeting them tomorrow. The captain walked away again and headed back towards the communications center. He went back inside the mud hut building.

    Any luck?

    No sir, but they're working on it as best they can.

    * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

    Chapter 2

    The Battle Buddies

    Sergeant Pinter and Sergeant Hendricks were battle buddies. What that meant was that they were there to take care of each other. It meant that they had each other's backs. They were to stay together all the time and fight from the same foxhole.

    Sergeant Pinter was from Orlando Florida. He had flunked out of the University of Florida. He spent more time partying, than he ever did studying. He'd gone home to Orlando after his second semester and contemplated his options. The local amusement parks were hiring but one night in a nightclub, he met a soldier home on leave from Afghanistan. He was impressed with the soldiers bearing and demeanor. Though the soldier was not what you would call a heavyset tough guy it was obvious that nobody was going to mess with him. Although Mark had had a fair amount to drink, everything that the warrior said to him made sense. The soldier was a few years older and he spoke in a very mature way about things like loyalty, duty, respect, selfless service, honesty, integrity, and personal courage.

    Two days later Mark Pinter had enlisted in the US Army going the way of infantry with the guarantee of going to jump school and then Ranger School. Pinter was a funny guy and in difficult times, he would always manage to say a word or two that picked everybody up.

    Chip Hendricks was from Boise Idaho. His family actually had a farm ten miles out of town, but Boise was home. He had gone to school, graduated and then worked with this family on their ranch for a couple of years. He was content and comfortable with the lifestyle but his parents really thought it would do him well to get an education. He was an athlete, a hunter and a really good football player. He had a shot at playing ball with the Boise State Broncos. The last game of his high school career on a clean tackle he sustained a concussion. He was down on the ground for two minutes before he came to. The school of course paid for all of the medical testing and at the end of the day, the medical experts recommended that he not compete beyond the high school level. The fear being another concussion could cause future irreparable damage to his brain. With a serious chance of being severely injured Chip hung up his cleats.

    Chip was devastated, and incredibly disappointed. All of his efforts to get the decision by the team doctors overridden failed to succeed. He had hoped to be a walk-on and play for the Boise State Broncos. With much encouragement from his parents, he went ahead and registered for school.

    In late October of his freshman year, he saw the Reserve Officer Training Corp, ROTC detachment at one of the home football games. He was impressed by what he saw as those individuals male and female had a sense of purpose about them and an air of confidence.

    Later that same month, he got a phone call saying that his dad had a serious heart attack. He had a major procedure done that included a partial artificial heart and a pacemaker. The man would survive, but his days of driving tractors, bailing hay, and doing all the things a rancher does were over.

    The family would immediately have financial issues, so paying for Chip’s college wasn’t practical, and student loans would put Chip in serous debt for years to come. The Hendricks family needed financial help right away.

    Chip made the on the spot decision to find a way to help his family financially and as he sat in his dorm room going over the options his mind kept going back to seeing the ROTC cadets. He went to see the professor of military science and got the full rundown of his options.

    It was too late in the year to apply for a ROTC scholarship but the professor of military science did have an idea that appealed to him. He called Chip in for a one-on-one counseling career session as he called it.

    Chip, here is one thing that you can do, you can leave school at the end of the semester, don't do it now, finish up with the best grades you can get. Go join the Army and serve the minimum amount of time you have to do, to qualify for education benefits. You can give part of your pay to your parents to help them out. Then you leave the Army, come back to school here to join our ROTC program and we would be glad to have you. Then you get commissioned as a second lieutenant when you graduate. Go spend twenty years in the military, and retire at age 44 and find some kind of second career that appeals to you. What you think?

    Sir, that sounds like a really great idea. I'm going to go home and talk this over with the family this weekend.

    Chip, that sounds like a really good plan, I say go ahead and do that. Come back and see me and I'll make sure that one of our officers goes with you down to the recruiter to make sure there's no surprises. Do you have any idea what you might want to do in the Army?

    I believe I would do well in an environment that involves the outdoors, leadership, and being, as they say, where the action is.

    Chip, I'm an infantry officer, our purpose is basically to close with and destroy the enemy. The lieutenant colonel smiled.

    That's what we do, there are many other options for fields you can go into, but truly if you want to go where the action is, you should consider becoming a Ranger. Do your member that pro football player?

    Certainly Sir, it was a terrible what happened to him.

    "A lot of bad things happen at war, just some really awful things but you just have to go on. The Ranger motto is First In, Last Out. What that means is when ground has to be cleared and taken the Rangers go in first. When it's time to go, it’s the Rangers on the ground making the last stand and they are the last to depart. Another thing you'll hear all the time is one shot one kill. I expect you're pretty good with a rifle already."

    Truth is Sir, I am pretty good. My dad put a 22 caliber rifle in my hands when I was 8 years old.

    Do you do a lot of hunting?

    Only for food, sir.

    Hey Chip; I have a meeting, so I need to wrap this up. You go home and let me know how this all works out. We'll help to get you the recruiter to make sure that you get all of the schools you need to make this Ranger thing happen. We will take care that.

    Lieutenant Colonel Madrid was true to his word and sent one of his instructors to meet with recruiters when they interviewed Chip. It was a smooth transition from poor college student to Army Ranger. The training was tough but fourteen months later Chip Hendricks had earned the Ranger Tab and was with his unit in remote Afghanistan.

    * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

    Chapter 3

    Afghan Sunrise

    As the first sign of the sun showed itself in the eastern sky, the Ranger unit began to get the full perspective as to their situation. They were surrounded on three sides by foothills that ultimately turned into the mountains. There was only one way in and out for helicopters. It would be a fast run up to the Valley that led to their location. Choppers trying to fly in over the foothills would be highly vulnerable to enemy ground fire.

    The commander and Lieutenant Harmon along with the senior NCOs walked all of the ground of the outpost and tried to determine if there was any way to put listening posts outside of the small camp so they might have advance notice of any kind of ground assault. The NCOs made numerous recommendations and the captain being an experienced veteran went along with all of them. The NCOs put the soldiers to work. Walls were reinforced with sandbags and also additional corner towers were put together on the four corners of the small outpost. Along with the supplies that they had retrieved from the helicopter were a mortar and 40 high explosive rounds. The mortar was set low to the ground with a five-foot high circular protective barrier made of sandbags.

    The communications sergeant was finally able to establish radio contact with their home base by setting up some exterior antennae’s. As soon as the contact was made, the communications sergeant began requesting the items from a list that the commander and the senior NCOs had put together. On the list were concertina wire, Claymore mines, and additional sets of night vision goggles. The idea for the concertina wire was to put rolls of it 30 yards out in a circular shape around the outpost. The request for the additional equipment was sent to the higher headquarters where the brigade commander was located.

    Back at the command headquarters, Colonel Anthony Ryan had responsibility for providing the necessary materials for the various Ranger teams out in harms way. Colonel Ryan had seven teams under his command. The Rangers were scattered throughout the area near Forward Operating Base Salerno.

    Colonel Ryan’s early success stories and glory were only because of the gallant and courageous effort of the officers and enlisted man of his command. They were doing the hard work as the Colonel often sat back and got all of the glory. The timeframe of Colonel Ryan's career actually had him in a leadership position though he had never served in combat. He had always been in a headquarters element or in some position where his boots rarely, if ever got dirty.

    Colonel Ryan denied the request of the Ranger team. His logistics officer advised that it was imperative to help their men out in the field, the ones in harms way. Colonel Ryan dismissed the major and his thoughts and advised all the men in the Tactical Operations Center that sending equipment was too dangerous and it would cost too much money to get the necessary equipment and materials to the Ranger team. They’re Rangers, this is what we do. They’ll be all right, they’ll tough it out.

    The soldiers, officers and enlisted were disgusted with his total disregard for the men at the remote outpost. On more than a few occasions, questions were raised as to the validity of Ryan having a Ranger Tab. He was the worst leader many had ever seen.

    The first two nights the outpost they had been fired upon with mortars and small arms fire by the Taliban. Captain Blanchard knew that the enemy was trying to soften their position and to also see what type of support was available when needed. The Ranger unit had returned mortar fire but without counter-mortar radars, they could only 'guesstimate' where the fire was coming from. The Taliban were everywhere on the hillsides, hiding in caves, behind large boulders. Had the Rangers had unlimited ammunition, they could have just pointed anywhere and had a good chance of hitting somebody, but they didn’t. They had to save some of the forty rounds for the dark night. They all knew an attack was coming.

    Captain Blanchard, the commander was extremely disgusted and demanded to speak with Colonel Ryan on the radio. He had been requesting a one on one conversation for twenty-four hours and finally Ryan made himself available.

    Orion Six, this is Taurus Six, over. The number six had always been designated as the number for unit commander to have as part of their radio call sign.

    Go-ahead Taurus what's your problem over. Colonel Ryan was always short and unprofessional on the radio, and most of the time in person as well.

    Orion 6, the enemy has the high ground all around us. We already know that helicopter gunship support is at best 45 minutes to an hour away depending on the weather. The same can be said for Close Air Support. If they try to overrun our outpost, there is a good chance that they will.

    Captain, are you telling me that you're not fit or ready to command out there?

    No sir, what I'm trying to do sir, is to protect my men. Captain Blanchard nor his NCOs or any of the soldiers in the radio room could believe the callousness of their commander, Colonel Ryan. All silently applauded the spirit of Captain Blanchard, very few had ever spoken back to the belligerent

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