This is Jockel podcast number 383 with Echo Charles and me,

Jockel Willink. Good evening, echo. Good evening.

Am bush right? Am bush right? Someone screamed.

From the high bush on my right, the sound of blank fire erupted in a

deafening roar. The ambush was on. Simultaneously, all the men in the

platoon dropped to the ground and returned fire into the tall grass.

Grenade, grenade, another voice shouted out to my immediate left, just to

the side of the point man, a grenade simulator exploded. First one, then another,

booming in my ears with stunning effect. On the ground around me, my platoon

continued to fire, changing magazines and waiting for me to give the order to move.

We couldn't counterattack through the brush. Brush, it was too thick. We couldn't

move to the right. The instructors had sealed off our exit. It appeared our only

choice was to move left and try and get out of the kill zone. In my mind, I knew

that was the textbook answer, but I had a better idea. Without hesitation, I

jacked another magazine into my M16, jumped up from my prone position and ran

around the left edge of the heavy brush nodding to the point man as I bolted past

him. I would flank the instructors, circle around the bushes, come up from

behind them and counter ambush them myself. This was going to be awesome.

Like a man possessed, I charged past the row of bushes, jumped over a few

small boulders and found myself unopposed on the high ground behind the

instructors. Flipping my selector switch to full auto, I pulled the trigger and

raked the bodies of the seven men lying behind the high brush.

...