.... But that was only in my mind .......
.... The AK's thrashed the foliage and branches above.
Whilst shitting your pants and pressing down into the ground you try to listen for the controlled Ack Ack Ack, and try to find which direction they come from. The continuous stream of lead, whilst deadly, was most probably coming from some locals with little experience and will be high and going higher to the right. As the screams behind you attest the Pro bastard with the 3 controlled shots have hit more than once.
Then you find that you are lying over your grenade pouch. You curse yourself and the intelligence all clear that sent you on this route this morning, but you still mange to send a grenade to silence the Pro.
That was your longer experience against his shorter. This inspires a shittload of lead from behind you.
No sela
You pick up your dead and anybody wounded. Their dead stays, but you count them.
After your debriefing you settle down with a bottle of rum, no coke, no soda, rum from the bottle.
And you remember the man saying "I will write you up for a gong, but do not insist that you want to salute the dead as they are driven off", Fuck.Him.Fuck.the.Gong.
But by now the " stormy night" have changed into a tropical rainstorm that cleanses the blood and you can start again in the morning.
People are lousy humans