Anybody home?

It was cold. The snow and the wind were chilling. As we gathered our equipment and weapons at the APC, the three of us shared jokes and told stories. It has become a ritual before going into battle. We hold this moment sacred because it could be our last.

At last, we are ready. Kelly and Greg got the sniper duty. My name is Michael Palmgreen, I had the street howitzer (a 16 gauge shotgun in all it’s glory). Shortly after entering into the woods, our Pointman, Greg saw one of the foul breed. The wretched creature of doom was dinking around in the tops of one of the trees. It looked big and rather hungry, so we decided that it would be safest to wait it out. Well, we waited and waited until I could not take it anymore. I had to go in. Unfortunately, as I approached the tree, the bushytail ran for it’s life. I guess I could not blame it. We moved on.

Slowly we moved forward in a wedge formation. Before too long, I saw something that made my blood boil. A nest was right above Greg’s head. I caught the teams attention and organized an attack with no words spoken. We all knew our jobs. Shake down time! I was delegated to the dangerous task of shaking the small evergreen tree. The nest was only ten feet up and it looked like a brothel of evil. My two teammates had me covered, so I began to shake. Shake. Shake. Shake. Thud! What the hell was that, I wondered. I looked to my right and the fear of death came over me. A bushytail had jumped out of the nest and was preparing to attack me. He looked evil, a huge fox squirrel with large fangs, a walnut helmet, and little fission acorn grenades was poised to attack! Where was my cover fire? Blam! Blam! Blam... I could hear my comrades screaming, “Get some, get some!” Hot lead flew from their guns. The bullets were streaking to find their place in the putrid animals head. But alas, the foul creature’s helmet must have saved him. He ran screaming away as snow and dirt kicked up behind him from the bullet’s vengeance that was at hand. I then heard the order, “Get the sixteen rolling!” But it was too late, I fired one shot in frustration at the enemy to no avail. The little bastard counted coup on me. Yet, we did not lose faith and kept on with our assignment. Unfortunately, the rest of the mission was lengthy and produced nothing.

Overall we spent loads of ammo and accounted for no less than thirty dead nests and trees and no body count. The American way! The bushytail’s time is coming. SLM is coming, and hell is coming with us!

Commander Michael Palmgreen

SLM members in camp