Mortars

Mortars
A whistle falls rapidly overhead sinking my stomach into my feet, causing my mind to race, “INCOMING” another Marine yells with an amount of worry in his voice that it will make any parent shiver with pain and worry as if their child was struck, running to the nearest bunker losing my breathe with every step forgetting that the elevation is much higher than what I am used to. The ground shakes and vibrates like a jackhammer is beside me malfunctioning. Further ahead of me black smoke rises from one of the watch towers, the bunker is full of other Marines, some half dressed in boxers with a flak, kevlar and weapon in hand, others fully geared up, none tired or lagging all ready for a fight.