Per Mare, Per Equestria

“Captain Matthew Wood, four-three commando, service number 365917501, reporting as ordered sir,” I saluted as I opened the door, standing to attention before the three officers sitting behind the desk.

“Thank you Captain, you may stand at ease,” the man in the centre said, making a quick note before staring straight at me.

The fact that I didn’t even know these officers names made me slightly nervous, but I’d been in this situation before, so it could have been a lot worse.  Standing at ease, I waited for the officers to speak, keeping my eyes straight forward, before one of them finally spoke.

“How many years have you served Captain?”

“I enlisted in 1998, with a two year secondment to the Special Forces, so eight years sir,” I replied after a brief moment of thought.

“And you were an officer all this time?”

“Yes sir, Captain for the past three years,” I nodded.

“That all seems to check out,” one of the officers nodded slowly, checking over a sheet of paper. “Your record shows that you have an ease in staying calm under fire, and making decisions based on current events. Very easy to anger given the right circumstances, but all in all a fine soldier.”

“Thank you sir,” I nodded, scratching the back of my neck nervously.

“As you know, the first company recently lost its commander,” one of the officers began.

“He’ll be missed,” I cut in, before cursing inside my head and shutting up.

“Yes,” the officer continued, “the fact remains though that we need a new officer to command the first company. Your promotion review was set to be soon anyway, so being brought forward a few months is neither here nor there. Now, do you have any questions Major Wood?”

“N-none sir,” I stammered, wrapping my head around the unexpected outcome.

“Very well then, you are dismissed Major.”

“Thank you sirs,” I quickly came to attention, saluting, before marching towards the door, not stopping till I was outside and letting out a slow sigh of relief.

“So, what’s the damage?” a familiar voice chuckled from behind me, and I turned to see my Colour Sergeant standing against the wall.

“What, no salute?” I asked with a slight smile. “I’m a much higher rank than you Colour Sergeant.”

“Yes, but I’ve seen pictures of…” he began with a sly smile of his own.

“Jenkins, shut up,” I ordered, fighting off a blush. “I swear, you’re the most insufferable moron I know.”

“And you love it,” Jenkins laughed, before giving me a lazy salute. “So, what’s the damage Captain sir?”

“The damage is you have to learn a new word Jenkins, I know you’ll struggle with your mental capacity, but learn the word Major and start using it Colour Sergeant.”

“Wait, promotion?” Jenkins asked.

“Major of the first company,” I nodded with a smile.

“Well then, I think we both know what this means.”

“Beer?” I offered.

“Beer,” Jenkins agreed.

***

Six Weeks Later

***

01:00

I slowly weaved my way through the throng of personnel on-board the HMS Oceans’ rear deck, cutting the crowd and walking towards the Hanger where the rest of my men were waiting. Even after six weeks, calling them my men was still a little odd, considering the fact I had served with most of these men since I first graduated from Lympstone. I’d built up a rapport with them, but being in overall command of a company was still a daunting prospect.

“Listen up,” I yelled over the din. “We’re heading out in one hour. Get your gear ready, check your buddies and be ready in forty back here. And Private Rick, remember to charge the battery in your bloody radio.”

“That was one time sir,” One of the soldiers called out from somewhere near the back of the hanger.

“And that’s one time to many,” I called back with a smirk, before dismissing the men.

I watched as the Men fell out, moving below decks to grab their gear. Truth be told, they would have had their kit ready hours ago, and would have done multiple checks on it throughout the day just to make sure it was ready, but it never hurt to check again.

After briefly checking with a mechanic working on one of our insertion vehicles, I too made my way below decks, angling myself towards the Barracks I shared with my men. Truth be told, I could have probably got my own cabin on-board thanks to my rank, but anything the men went through, I went through right beside them.

I glanced down at the patch on my arm and smiled. Royal Marine Commando. A Green Beret. They didn’t just give those things away, and just getting through training as a grunt was hard enough. Factor in the 30 extra weeks that officers had to go through to earn their Berets, and you could see exactly why Royal Marines were respected around the world as one of the most elite amphibious forces.

Walking over to my bunk, I pulled my Bergen and began to go through the contents or it, laying them out on the mattress. When I had finished unpacking my Bergen, I surveyed the contents, checking that everything was in order.

Two ration packs, enough for two days without resupply.

Two First Field Dressings - Check

One Cam Cream container - Check

Four glow sticks - Check

Two full water bottles - Check

Sleeping bag, two ponchos, a roll-mat, some bungee cords and some tent pegs - Check

I mentally went through my list, before repacking everything back into the bag and hoisting it onto my shoulders.

“Colour Sergeant?” I called out.

“Sir,” Came the reply from one of the Marines.

“Are you done checking your gear Jenkins?”

“Yes Major?”

“Good. Go and check with the quartermaster and make sure the ammos ready.”

“Sir,” He said, saluting, before turning and quickly making his way out of the cabin.

“The rest of you, make sure your back on deck in half an hour.” I said, pulling on my assault jacket and grabbing my rifle, before leaving the cabin to go and check on the rest of my Company.

After twenty minutes, I had made sure that the remaining Platoon commanders had checked their squads, which unsurprisingly they all had, before heading back onto the deck. Infront of me stood my company, two hundred marines from Four Three commando milled about the deck at the rear of the ship, most talking with their squad ICs or applying some last minute cam cream.

“Jenkins,” I yelled out, “Ammo?”

“Here sir,” Came Jenkins voice, and after a brief moment of searching through the crowd in front of me, I finally caught sight of him moving between the squads and distributing bullets, grenades and other mission appropriate kit. Eventually he got to me, opening the rucksack he wore and proffering it towards me.

Reaching in, I drew out a cluster of boxes, before getting handed eight magazines and a couple of grenades.

“Major,” He nodded, before running off to the remaining squads.

I looked around as the rest of the Marines as they began bombing up their magazines in preparation for the raid ahead. I spotted a few other Marines doing a last minute cleaning on their weapons, and I looked to my own weapons.

While the majority of the Marines used SA80s, all equipped with the new American ACOG sights, or carried the companies support weapons, ranging from the FN Minimi to the designated marksman rifle, I on the other hand had earned the right to use the weapon I had used in my two years Special Forces secondment, a Canadian-made Diemaco C8 SFW carbine, complete with ACOG sight and a foregrip. Even if it was based on an American design, I loved my rifle, and I wouldn't go back to the SA80 for anything. I knew my pistol, a Gen four Glock 17, was safely secured in the holster on my assault vest, and after a quick check that the four grenades I had were secured properly, I walked over towards the ORCs to check on the last minute preparations there.

02:00

“Listen up,” I called from the front, silencing the company. “We’re moving in ten minutes. We’ve got a fifteen minute journey by ORC, before dismounting and making our way through the jungle to the mission objective. All in all it should take us three hours to reach it. Any questions?”

As expected, no hands went up. The company had already been briefed before they left and they knew exactly what they needed to do. This was a fairly standard slash and burn mission to be honest Go in, take out a known pirate stronghold before meeting up with the rest of the battalion for new orders. It wasn’t exactly rocket science. Everyone had a job to do, and every one of them would do their part in it, or die trying. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that, but better to be over prepared than caught with your pants down.

“Good. Get to the boats then,” I said, making my way over to my squad.

At this, the deck once again exploded into motion. Naval personnel launched the rigs that were going to be taking us the last few kilometers to the river mouth that was our entry point.

Standing with my squad, I waited patiently as our rig was lowered into the water. As soon as it was ready, I made my way onto the ladder and entered the small boat, watching as my squad followed suite, before signalling for the driver to cast off.

The small boat pulled away from HMS Ocean, speeding across the ocean towards the shoreline just visible on the horizon. All around me, I could see the rest of my company following behind.

02:15

Eventually the boats pulled to a halt, and the entire company dismounted, moving with practiced ease into the dense cover that the jungle held. Doing the same with my squad, I turned on my radio and began to whisper orders to the other section ICs.

“All squads check in with platoon leaders then maintain radio silence. Prepare to move to the first rendezvous point,” I whispered, before silently signalling for my squad to follow.

As one, the company spread out, the various sections beginning to move deeper into the undergrowth. If I didn’t know that there were two hundred soldiers around me, I never would have believed it. I smiled, as I knew that this would mean that the enemy would never see us coming.

04:50

I signalled for my squad to halt behind me, as I took out my map from my pocket and activated the red light of my head torch. Giving the map a quick glance, I confirmed that we were still on the route that I had originally decided to take to get to the mission point, before putting the map away and switching off the torch. The river that my squad and I were currently standing by ran all the way to the Al-Shabaab stronghold, and we once again began to slowly wade through the waist deep water.

“Ten minutes up river,” I whispered as we began to move, falling into the second position in the line, keeping within eyesight of the man in front, making sure that I didn’t lose sight of him.

05:00

Glancing down at my watch, I smiled as I noted the time. Exactly five o’clock by my watch, which the other squad ICs had synched theirs to, meaning that if everything was going well, they’d be in place too. Looking in front of me, I could see a village, opening directly onto the river I was hiding in with my squad. As I watched three men walked out of one of the larger buildings, one of them smoking a cigarette, heading onto a wooden jetty nearby my position. Each was holding an AK-47, and all three were chatting loudly with each other. I couldn’t actually work out what they were saying however, partly because of the distance of them, but mostly because I didn’t understand a word of Somalian.

Holding back, I watched as three of my own squad members advanced forward, only their heads visible above the water as they slowly got closer to the men until they were standing just below them. Even from the distance I was watching from, I could see the group get into position and count down, before all moving at once.

Pulling themselves out of the water slightly, the Marines grabbed hold of the men, dragging them into and under the water. All three men would soon be dead, and that was without so much as a whisper from any of them.

Moving through the water, I reached the jetty and hauled myself out, bringing my rifle up and scanning for targets.  Finding none, I turned around and grabbed hold of one of my men, helping him out of the water, before going back to searching the area.

As soon as my squad was out of the water, we began to move into the village, searching for targets. Although I couldn’t see them, I knew that other squads would be doing the same thing in other areas, while others still were setting up sniping positions or firing arcs to cover the assault.

I found the building I was looking for, and quickly signalled for my squad to advance towards it. Forming up outside, we prepared for the most dangerous part of the mission, going loud. Gritting my teeth, I nodded at my point man, who placed his hand on the door of the building, while another man readied a grenade. With a final nod, the point man threw the door open, before turning away as the grenade was thrown in. A loud ‘CRACK’ resounded around the village, and my squad quickly moved into the building, scanning corners and checking the dead men inside. Five men were most certainly dead, that was obvious without even checking them, while a further three men were rolling around on the floor, clutching various injuries.

“You, get on that,” I pointed at one of my squad, before pointing at a radio set in the corner. Already I could hear shots coming from the rest of the village most being the single shots of the marines, while some were fully automatic fire, most likely from the pirate forces, and I could only hope that everything was going according to the plan.

Rushing over to the window, I looked out, taking aim at a man running across the. I breathed out, before squeezing the trigger and watching as the man dropped, a hole punched in the back of his head.

“Major,” Came the voice of one of my men, who was clutching a paper map in his hand. “You’ll want to look at this.

Running over to him, I grabbed the map off him, and quickly surveyed it, while the rest of my men began to lay down covering fire.

“Fuck,” I whispered to myself as I looked at the map in front of me, and the red circles around most of the villages around the area. If my gut was right, which it usually was, there were a lot more Al-Shabaab bases in the area than the Intel he had been given had suggested.

My fears were confirmed as soon as the unmistakable sound of a sniper rifle firing reached my ears, followed by the chatter of heavy machine gun. Our sentries were pinning down a large force by the sound of it, but only time would tell how long it would last for.

“Keep it tight, check your corners and watch for friendlies,” I said as we made our way out of the building and began to move through the village, my rifle at the ready. I could hear a lot more gunshots coming from around the village now. As we moved, I put my hand up to my ear, and tried to get in contact with any of the rest of my men around the village.

“Is anyone reading this?” I asked, my voice staying calm as I spoke directly into the microphone. “Does anyone see the enemy? Someone.”

“Enemy approaching from the North West,” Came the hurried reply. “Johnson’s squad’s engaged now, snipers are providing them long range support.”

“What sort of numbers are we talking about here?” I asked the man on the other end of the radio.

“Unknown. Looks like a lot. More than us that’s for sure though.”

“Of course there are.” I muttered, shutting off the radio and altering my course so my squad and I were angled towards the northern approach. Eventually I saw the edge of the village, and could see muzzle flashes everywhere in front of me. Some were coming from within the buildings which squads had already cleared, while more still came from men who were previously hidden in the jungle undergrowth.

Running over to a section, I began to ask questions.

“Who’s in charge here?” I all but yelled, finding a target and squeezing the trigger, causing another scream to rip across the battlefield.

“Sir. That would be me Sir,” A Corporal grunted.

“Situation?” I asked simply.

“Shit loads of Al-Shabaab militia are pushing into the village. We already lost two men falling back.” He said solemnly.

“Who?” I asked urgently.

“Private Rutford is defiantly KIA, and Colour Sergeant Jenkins went down. Don’t know if he’s alive or not, we had to pull back.”

Instantly, I began to form a plan in my mind as a tightness gripped my gut at the mention of Jenkins predicament.

“Where did he go down?” I asked as I squeezed off two more shots.

“About sixty meters that way. There’s a clearing, I think he’s in that.” The Corporal pointed.

“All right.” I said, addressing my men. “We’re going to push forward. You three take Delta fire-team, you two stay with me as Charlie. We’ll pepper pot up to where Jenkins is and recover him, and Rutford if we find his body. Rick, you stay here and try and get command on the radio. Tell them that intel was off and we need reinforcements here, get the rest of the battalion here now.”

After various signals of acknowledgement came from the members of my squad, we began to move, smoothly breaking down into two small teams and preparing to advance.

05:20

The rest of my squad was lying down next to me, taking shots at the enemy.

“Prepare to move!” I shouted over the roar of the gunfire. “Move!”

Before the word had even finished coming out of my mouth, I was on my feet, running with two other members of my squad, weaving and dashing forward before throwing myself back to the floor. Instantly, I brought my rifle up and began to lay down covering fire for my second fire team.

“Prepare to move!” Came the voice from behind me. “Move!”

In a few seconds, I saw the three Marines throw themselves to the ground next to me.

“Prepare to move! Move!” I shouted, as once again I found myself running towards the enemy. A sharp crack resounded from my left, and I silently thanked my luck that the enemy were shit shots.

Slowly, my squad and I advanced forward, taking our time and neutralising anyone who popped their head up who wasn’t a Marine. Eventually, I spotted the clearing I had been informed that Jenkins was in.

Holding up one fist, I signalled for my squad to stop behind me as I surveyed the clearing in front of me. What instantly caught my eye was the prone form of Jenkins.

He was lying almost directly in the middle, his rifle clutched in one hand as he pulled the pin on a grenade before lobbing it into the undergrowth, the action causing multiple screams to emerge from the jungle.

“You four, you’re in charge of carrying him back to the village. We’ll cover you,” I called out, kneeling beside Jenkins as I pointed out the men who I was assigning to the various tasks. “Jenkins hang in there, we’ll get you out of this.”

“Sir,” they quickly replied in confirmation, Jenkins grunting as he nodded.

As the remaining unassigned Marine and I began to lay down as much cover fire as I could without simply blindly spraying the forest with bullets, the four Marines stooped down beside Jenkins, and prepared to move him onto a makeshift stretcher

“The Colour Sergeant ready to move,” Came the shout from behind me.

“Ok, start taking him back, we’ll cover you,” I shouted back.

Slowly, I began to move backwards, staying low all the time and continuing to fire into the jungle ahead of me. My efforts were met with the odd scream, but for the most part, the covering fire succeeded in keeping the enemies’ heads down. I was about half way across the clearing, when I heard a burst of fire from the jungle in front of me, followed by a short scream from behind me.

Cursing, I glanced behind me, looking at the body of the other Marine providing covering fire, before grabbing hold of his Jackets collar and dragging him back towards the clearings edge. I knew he was dead already, but that didn’t mean I was going to leave his body for the enemy to find. If I could, I’d get him back to the village, and hopefully back home for a decent burial.

“Anyone read? We’re getting our asses kicked out here, we need some sort of support now,” I grunted into the radio.

“We’re trying,” Came a crackled reply. “Enemy have got you surrounded. Not sure how quickly we can give assistance, we’ll need to break a hole.”

“Great,” I yelled, before crawling back to my squad. “Reinforcements are coming but the enemy have got behind us, defensive positions, wounded in the middle.”

“If they don’t hurry we’ll be needing body bags instead of stretchers,” one of the Marines grunted as he braced himself and unleashing a torrent of bullets from the LMG he carried.

“Stow it and keep firing,” came the reply from another Marine.

Forming a circle around Jenkins’s’ prone form and the dead Marine, we began to fire at the enemy, making them pay for any steps they tried to take.

“Just a bit…Ahh!” Screamed another Marine, three bullets ripping through his chest.

“Fuck. I’ll get…” Cursed another Marine, raising up slightly and trying to move towards the screaming solider. He was silenced by a shot that impacted with his jaw, tearing it almost clean off and covering me in blood. Slowly, almost as if he was in slow motion, he fell to the ground, landing on top of the Marine he had been trying to help, who now also lay still.

“We are leaving NOW!” I shouted desperately, trying to formulate a plan to get my remaining men out of there. All of them revolved around leaving the wounded form of Jenkins and bugging out ourselves.

Should I do that?

Could I even bring myself to abandon him?

Every time I thought about doing it, I was met with the same response. Absolutely fucking not.

Jenkins and I went back a long way, all the way to before CTCRM in fact. We had come through basic training together, before he got the Green Beret and got assigned to this company. It had taken me fifteen gruelling months to achieve my commission, while he had only taken thirty two weeks to pass out and start fighting. By the time I had got my own command, he had risen through the ranks to the Sergeant in command of a squad. As luck would have it, I was given overall of the section he was in. Throughout that time, he had always been a friend to me. I could no more leave him behind while he still drew breath than I could cut off my own head with a rusty spoon.

Turning back to the two remaining Marines, I started to give orders, but was cut off by a loud stream of bullets. Turning round, I watched as ten Militiamen rose up out of the Jungle, wielding various weapons. The two Marines behind me hadn’t seen them, and my frantic warning and covering shots only served to allow them to turn their heads slightly, before a barrage of shots cut them down.

I felt myself go numb, as I watched the last members of my squad fall. Sure I’d lost men before, but that many in such a short period of time? This was something else entirely. The fact that this was my first major command since my promotion was just the last nail in the coffin.

A pain erupted in my side, breaking me out of my self-pity and I shuddered as I felt a bullet graze through the muscle round my right hip. Slowly, I crawled over to Jenkins and Grabbed hold of him.

“We’re going to make it through this, you hear me?” I almost snarled into his face.

“How…many?” He asked, coughing slightly.

“A lot,” I replied bluntly, grabbing the dropped LMG and firing into the man in front of me, the bullets ripping through him instantly.

“We can take a lot. We did it before.”

“What? Syria?” I asked, continuing to fire. “Yeah, come on, you me and our swinging cocks. They won’t know what hit them.”

“Then we get to go down swinging?” He coughed with a slight chuckle, reaching over to grasp at the GPMG he carried, but groaning at the effort, and not managing to assist in what was fast shaping up to be our final stand.

“Damn straight,” I replied with a smirk.

The cocking handle on the LMG shot back and clicked, signalling that I had run through the box magazine. Dropping the weapon, I grabbed my rifle back up and scanned for targets, taking a shot at the few remaining militiamen.

“You know we’re not going to get out of this, don’t you?” He asked, a strange feeling of seriousness taking over.

“Not true,” I grunted. “We just need to hold out a little longer.”

“And if we can’t?”

“Then we do the company proud, and we take as many of these sons of bitches with us.”

I scanned for targets and found one. Taking aim, I watched as he took aim with his own weapon, aiming the RPG straight at us. In a second, I realised that I wouldn’t be able to get him before he fired. Instead, I grabbed hold of one of the bodies of my dead squad and chucked it over Jenkins, before hauling another on top of me. The idea of using the dead was not comforting, but it was necessary if I wanted to survive, which right now I really did.

I watched, as if in slow motion, as the man fired his weapon, firing the explosive towards us. I closed my eyes and waited for the inevitable.

My world went white as my ears threatened to burst, and I wondered if this was how my world ended.

***

Major Matthew Wood, CiC first company, four-three commando battalion, three commando brigade, Royal Marines.

Reported MIA on the 27th of July, 2018, after leading an assault on an Al-Shabaab extremist force in the Somalian Jungle.

No next of kin or immediate family on records.

Major Matthew Wood is recommended for a posthumous Military Cross award after personally leading an attempt to rescue a fellow Marine.

Colour Sergeant Alex Jenkins, three section, first company, four-three commando battalion, three commando brigade, Royal Marines.

Reported MIA on the 27th of July, 2018, after participating in an assault on an Al-Shabaab extremist force in the Somalian Jungle.

Two brothers on record, currently serving in Afghanistan, both parents deceased. Dispatch copied to brothers company commander.

Dispatch to CTCRM, Lympstone, Devon, England. Received 1st August 2018