October 31st, 1971, Nui Dat, Vietnam

“Hey, new kid, pick it up mate.  Caught an emergency exfil cover.  Ready pad in five.”

“O’ my way, Sergean’.”   The private flipped out of the cot, quickly putting his giggle-hat on his head, slipping on his flak jacket, and finally grabbing his M82 before sprinting out of the squadron tent towards the flight pad of the EMU, jumping at the last second into the Huey already starting to move out.

“Bout time, Anderson,” screamed Seargeant Braderson, who glared and then ignored the new kid.  New kids didn’t have a high success rate in this business.

Private Anderson turned to his spotter, Augustus “Auggie” Smith, “What’s goin’ o’?”

“Christ, ya Pilbaran’s can’t speak proper English,” replied Smith, a city boy from Sydney.  “Some Yank special forces unit callin’ for exfil, gettin’ chopped up pretty bad.  Guess we get ta go pull their arrogan’ asses outta the can.”

Maybe fifteen minutes later the chopper started to drop rapidly, “Smith, Anderson – overwatch. We’ll skip in about hundred closer to the Yanks who are beatin’ bush this way.”

“Right-o, Seargent.”

They rolled out of the chopper, and weren’t even quite setup yet when the rest of the troop started deploying a little over a hundred meters away.  Of course, nobody knew the VC had a blocking force waiting on the Yanks.  And they opened up on the ready response choppers, one staggering into the sky why the other dropped like a rock.  Steve saw movement as the survivors tried to get out, so he got to work.  He had lots of options.  He began firing…….

Time blurred…..seemed like hours passed before the Yanks arrived, after three different rushes by the gooks, two towards the downed chopper, and a smaller one at him and Auggie.  He fired, fired, fired…..there was no time to shift.  Just fire, reload, site, fire, reload, site, fire, reload, although it came down to using his L9 and his Dad’s World War II Commando knife he had given him the day before he left for Vietnam. 

He had no idea when Auggie bought the farm.

He was down to three bullets for the M82 and the knife when the bevy of US 1st Cav choppers finally swarmed in.

---

 

November 3rd, 1971, October 31st, 1971, Nui Dat, Vietnam

Steve was….lonely.  The captain gave him a couple days after they got back, but it was lonely in the squad tent.  He’d been the only one to make it back unscathed, although a couple of the guys had been medevac’d.  Bit of a bender yesterday but……

“Private Anderson,” came the growled, gruff voice from the tent flap, and he jumped to attention at the sound of the company first seargeant, “Visitors.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw two officers, lieutenants, enter behind the first seargeant, one in the striped fatigues of the SAS Commando unit and the second one a bloody Yank.

“At ease, Anderson,” the Australian officer ordered.  “I’m Lieutenant Wilkerson, and this is Lieutenant English.  He’s the leader of the US team from the other day.”

“Damn glad to meet you, son.  Just wanted to say thank you for your team’s efforts, but especially yours.  After action report’s going to credit you with thirty nine confirmed kills for the day.  If not for you, none of us would have made it out alive.”

“Just doin’ ma’ par’, Leftenan’,” the private replied, the northwestern accent heavy on his tongue.

“Skills like yours are hard to come by son, especially in those who hadn’t seen combat before.”

“Than’ ya, si’, really wasn’t much time ta thin’, jus’ do,” replied the young digger.

“Well, be that as it may, Lieutenant Wilkerson’s got an offer for you, and I’d be obliged if you’d consider it.  This war’s made it obvious that we need to keep our nations working together closely, so there’s going to be an experimental unit operating out of Australia going forward.  We think you might be a good fit, if you can complete the SAS training of course.  I hope we can count on you.”

Stunned, the soldier took a moment, before replying, “Of course sir, thank you sir.”

---

 

September, 1984, Australia

“Seargeant Anderson, the new CO wants to see you,” the lance corporal called.

“Bloody hell, wha’ now. Well, mates, off I go ta see the new American wanker.”

He knocked on the door, opening after a moment.

“Sir, Seargent Anderson reportin’ as ordered.”

“Anderson, its good to see you again,” replied the officer, “come in.  I hope you remember me son.”

“Of course, Major English, hard ta not remember that day.”

“Captain Taylor says your getting ready to muster out in a couple months.”

“Yes, sir.  My wife, Hannah’s expectin’ our first.  After the chopper accident a few weeks ago, my knee’s fairly buggered, sir.  And the regular bouts of malaria over the last couple years, well, we decided ta go back home ta Port Hedland ta take on a small section of the family farm an’ raise the kiddo.”

“Nothing I can say to change your mind.”

“Not really sir, its time.”

“I see.  Well, I want to thank you for your time here in setting up security operations for the projects and joint teams.  Been a real help.  Says here you signed up for the experimental malaria vaccines over the last couple years.”

“Yes sir, seemed like it couldn’t hurt.”

“Three series of three shots each.  Completed the last in December?”

“Yes, sir, been better after the second batch, no symptoms but the Docs said need to finish.  One more series to complete over the next eight weeks.”

“Good, good. Port Hedland ya said? Where’s that?”

“Northwester’ Australia, sir.  Not very big.  Decent port though.”

“And your wife? Everything’s good?”

“Yes, sir.  Big as a house though. Doc’s say the baby’s doin’ real good, strong heart beat.”

“When’s she due?”

“Six weeks sir, second week of November.”

“Excellent, excellent. Means you all will still be here when he’s born.  We can make sure everything’s good before you finish your term.”

“Thank ya, sir, that means a lot.”

“Picked out a name, yet, Steve?”

“Yes, sir, Brett after Hannah’s uncle and Oliver after one of mine.”

“Alright then, Steve.  If your sure I can’t change your mind, make sure you get with Captain Taylor.  He’ll make sure the paperwork’s right for everything.  You come by after the baby’s born and we’ll celebrate with a cigar.”

“That’s very kind, Major.”

“Well, behind closed doors, and for the special occasion, call me Jeffrey, Steve.”

“Yes sir, Major.  Sorry sir, Jeffrey.”

“You’re dismissed, Seargeant.  Captain Taylor, stay a second will you please.”

After the seargeant left, “Make sure we have an agent to monitor Port Hedland, will you Captain.  Regular checkups for the kid.  Medical appointments, etc.  Make sure any costs are covered.  I’m reading this report correctly, Captain? Before the treatments, the Seargent was sterile?”

“Yes sir. Most likely from his previous bouts of malaria.”

“Excellent.  A perfect candidate for the ‘vaccine’.”