| Subject: ...For Meritorious Service, Chapter 1 |
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TxJAG_b
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Date Posted: 10:48:20 04/12/11 Tue
Title: …For Meritorious Service
Author: TxJAG_b
Email: txjagbc1@yahoo.com
Rating: PG, R [some language, combat violence, etc.]
Classification: Romance/Action-Adventure/Story - Harm and Mac – Action/Adventure and the events of Operation Iraqi Freedom…
Summary: A fanfic about one of the occurrences during Iraqi Freedom - a medal winner – did he die in combat or was he a murder victim? The idea for this story came from an article that I read in my local paper about how an Army soldier in Operation Iraqi Freedom was being investigated for a medal of honor posthumously for his actions. I wanted the JAG team to handle this kind of thing, but I knew I’d have to make an obvious change and a criminal angle to involve JAG and so the idea for this murder/mystery. This story will make many twists and
turns so fasten your seat belts and enjoy!
Disclaimer: The characters in this story are the property of Donald Bellisario, Belisaurius Productions, Paramount Pictures and Columbia Broadcasting Service Entertainment – this story is for non-profit entertainment of JAG fans only. No copyright infringement is intended or implied.
SPOILERS: Anything from JAG or NCIS all seasons - you've
been warned....
A/N1: Military jargon: For those not as familiar with some of the vehicles and weapons and ranks mentioned in story, here’s a briefing:
ACTUAL – The person speaking usually a CO or NCOIC
NCOIC – Noncommissioned Officer in Charge
SITREP – Situation report
LAV – 8x8 wheeled reconnaissance, light armored vehicle used by the USMC.
AAV-7A1 – tracked amphibious armored personnel carrier used by the USMC.
RPG-7V – Standard Soviet/Russian rocket propelled grenade launcher called RPG.
HMMWV – Known in civilian circles as ‘Hummer’-military types call them ‘Hum-vees’
M2HB – Standard heavy machine gun used by military.
Beretta M9/ Model 92F – Sidearm of USMC officers.
C-5 – Standard USAF heavy transport.
More will listed as necessary….
A/N2: Thanks to JoshuaTree and ElfinKid for beta-ing chapters 1-6 of this story back in 2003-2004. You guys are the best. Special thanks to my friend and beta Karen who helped me see this through to the end. Later on, AeroGirl, Mkim, Soleil, Janlaw, and TZ will provide their help and technical expertise. I am indebted to all of them helping make this dream a reality. Also thanks to Lisa Griffon [Yahoo Shipper Group] for pushing me to take a random thought and turn it into my first full blown, JAG novel.
A/N3: **~~** indicates flashback ( ) indicates the thoughts of a person. *~* indicates scene shift not otherwise indicated by a JAG time stamp. ~~~~ indicates a dream sequence.
A/N4: Reposting of the story up to Chapter 23b because the rest of story scolled off the board and several have
asked for the preceding chapters - so here they are....
******************************************
…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 1
******************************************
0630 Hours Local
25 March 2003
Mirbullah, Iraq
*
Operation Iraqi Freedom, D Plus 6
**************************************
A lone General Motors 8x8 Light Armored Vehicle (LAV) sat in the pre-dawn darkness on the edge of the village. In the commander’s hatch, NCOIC Staff Sergeant Thomas ‘Zeke’ Fuller used his night vision goggles to checkout the darkened buildings. Nothing moved. No cats, no dogs, “…not even a rat,” grunted Fuller. He keyed his radio mike.
“Rover Four Actual to Rovers, sitrep.”
“Rover two, all clear here.”
“Rover three, all quiet -- no movement.”
“Rover one, this place is dead…man what I wouldn’t give--”
The LAV commander grimaced. That was Headrick, when was that jackass going to learn? He switched his radio to the local net, “Watch your commo discipline, One, you’re in Indian country.”
“Sorry, Actual,” The reply was chastened, “It’s a go here, too.”
Fuller switched his radio to the company tactical net, “Alpha leader, this is Rover Prime, the area is quiet, move the turtles in.”
“Alpha leader Actual to Rover Four Actual; thanks for the looking under the bed, we’re on our way-- out,”
“Roger Alpha, give a jingle if you need us.”
Alpha leader was the lead AAV-7A1 amphibious personnel carrier, A001 in the reinforced Marine Expeditionary Unit, the Fighting 3-2. They trundled their way into the outskirts of Mirbullah. The lead carrier maneuvered through the town square. It was still quiet - no movement - despite all the ruckus the armored unit was making as it began clattering through the square and headed out into the north side of the village. Alpha leader’s commander never saw the rocket propelled grenade round which blew his hatch and him to hell and gone. The burning carrier, its top peeled open where the commander’s hatch used to be, gave a sickening lurch and crunched into a stone wall, shattering its left track.
The second vehicle following, an armored HMMWV, was raked by heavy machine gun fire, shredding its tires and punching holes though its chassis. Soldiers tumbled out of both vehicles, firing blindly toward the source of the ambush.
“Alpha leader is down!” barked Gunnery Sergeant Albert Sanchez as he rallied the Marines from the armored HMMWV, which had now started to burn. They concentrated their fire on a two story stone municipal building. They could see another grenade round launched from the roof that streaked down and smashed into the dead truck, turning it into a blazing inferno.
“Corporal!” The Gunny pointed to the roof ledge, “RPG! Lay down suppressive fire on that roof!!”
Aye, aye Gunny! The Corporal looked at his two remaining squad members, “Suppressive fire on that ledge!”
“You got it Corp!”
As the Marines from the HMMWV began to return fire, the other personnel carriers and HMMWVs began to blunder into the crowded square. Having no place to go, they crowded around the two burning vehicles.
“No!” Shouted Sanchez waving his arms frantically, “Get back! It’s a trap!!”
Instead of retreating, the rear doors of the carriers began to open.
“Go, go, go!” barked a Sergeant to his squad as small arms fire whacked and pinged off the rear guard carrier. They had just cleared the rear ramp when an RPG round burrowed into its guts, causing flames to belch out of every opening. The concussion tossed the soldiers into the stone wall, knocking several of them out. Another HMMWV coughed flames, brightening the dawn. While smoke from the other three vehicles leapt into the air, Marines began debussing from the remaining carriers and HMMWVs, seeking shelter.
The Gunny and his squad dove for cover.
“They’ve cut us off Gunny!!”
Sanchez swore and grabbed the phone from the portable radiotelephone carried by a nervous PFC.
“Rover Four Actual this is Alpha Two Actual! We’ve been sucker punched!!”
“Hang in there Alpha two, the Cavalry’s on the way!!”
“Roger Four, out!”
The Gunny looked around. The burning carrier blocked the only other exit out of the square. His vehicle and Alpha leader’s blocked the other end. The gunfire from the rooftops was increasing in intensity. There was no other way out and in all likelihood they were probably going to die here.
“Keep firing!” He ordered, “As long as we keep firing, we’ve got a chance!!”
Mixed in with the rattle of small arms fire from both sides, the Gunny could now hear the steady thumping of a twenty-five millimeter auto cannon.
The PFC craned his neck toward the sound.
“They’re here Sir!” A cheer erupted from the trapped men. It was short lived as Gunny Sanchez watched an RPG immolate the lead LAV, Rover One.
“Pull back!!” screamed the Gunnery Sergeant into the phone, “They’ve got your range!!”
The LAVs quickly maneuvered away from their stricken comrade and once back a safe distance, they resumed firing at the village rooftops around the square. Sanchez noticed the enemy gunfire slacken as 25 millimeter shells rained down dangerously close to Marine and Iraqi positions.
Hunkering down, the Gunny and the other squads of Marines were hoping and praying the rounds wouldn’t fall short. Miraculously, they didn’t. Pretty soon, the guns from enemy positions behind them fell silent.
Sanchez was about to give the order to assault the remaining ambush positions when a round passed through the PFC carrying the radiotelephone. All around him Marines began grunting and/or screaming while grabbing arms or legs. During the LAV barrage, snipers had moved into position on the rooftops and where now picking off the Marines of Alpha Company like so many fish in a barrel. The Gunnery Sergeant felt a round zip past his head--a few more inches to the left and he would have been dead. But looking around and judging from the number of wounded, it seemed that killing the Americans wasn’t the plan. The realization struck him like brick. They wanted hostages so they could suck others into the trap. Sanchez picked up the radiophone from the dead PFC.
He had to warn the others.
An explosion of crumbling mortar and stones to his left interrupted his call. Swirling through the mortar and stone dust, a lone AAV-7A1 clattered into the Gunnery Sergeant’s vision.
“Gunny!” One of the wounded Marines pointed, “It’s Lieutenant Dodge!”
Sanchez sat dumbfounded, his eyes refusing to believe what they were seeing. His attention was jarred from the scene when he heard the report of particularly close rifle and felt white-hot pain flash through his right arm. His hand refused to work; looking away from the carrier, he saw his upper arm was a bloody mess. He looked away from the damage and back at the carrier.
“Gunny!” The CO of the carrier was waving frenetically at him, “Get the hell out of the way!!”
Sanchez rolled backwards as the carrier plowed past him.
“Hard right Sergeant!” ordered Dodge. The carrier slewed sharply to the right so that it became a wall of steel between the squads of Alpha Company and the Iraqi snipers. The guns of the carrier, including the .50 caliber M2HB manned by the commander, concentrated on throwing the snipers off balance.
“Gunny! Are you okay?!” It was Dodge. Sanchez could barely hear him.
Sanchez nodded. Now his ears filled with the tale-tale whup, whup, whup of an approaching helicopter, drowning out the Lieutenant and the enemy gunfire.
Dust and smoke swirled around like mad demons as an AH-1 Cobra gunship roared into view. Its guns roared blazing away at the sniper’s positions, joining Lieutenant Dodge’s fire and that of some of the uninjured members of Alpha Company.
All fire that had been aimed at the Lieutenant and members of Alpha Company was now directed at the low flying newcomer. Smoke spurted from underneath the gunship as its engine stuttered and it slid to the right.
“Hit the deck!” Barked Dodge, “She’s coming in hard!”
The Cobra slid further to the right, streaming gray and white smoke. The pilot brought it down hard in some tall grass to their front. Smoke billowed out of the grass, obscuring the downed gunship.
The sniper fire to their left stopped and now began coming from their front. The ambushers wanted to secure their latest victim. Dodge’s carrier leaped to life and headed toward the smoking craft.
Sanchez motioned to the soldiers behind him; they had to keep those pilots from being captured. Ignoring the burning in his right arm, Gunny Sanchez grabbed his rifle with his left arm and stumbled forward, leading a handful of injured and uninjured Marines toward Dodge and the gunship.
Dodge’s carrier reached the Cobra first. As before, he ordered the carrier broadside to the downed craft. A hail of gunfire and two RPG rounds slammed into the side of the carrier facing the enemy. Dodge ignored the fire, concentrating on keeping the attackers off balance.
When Sanchez arrived, the pilot was helping his weapons officer out of the smoky cockpit of the Cobra.
“Are you okay?” Sanchez saw the pilot nod. He looked at the Weapons Officer who now had unholstered his sidearm. The Gunny looked at Dodge’s carrier. Bullets were beating against the armor. Dodge’s carrier was the only thing that stood between them and certain death.
Sanchez’s rag-tag squad and the Cobra crew headed toward the carrier.
“Cover fire!” Motioned Sanchez, he saw Lieutenant Dodge continuing to fire at the attackers. “Hang on Lieutenant! We’re coming!!”
The squad began to return fire. Through a haze of pain, the Gunny saw Dodge go limp and fall over in the hatch of the carrier.
“Corpsman!” Yelled Sanchez. Another Marine repeated his call.
As the medic moved forward, the fire began to slacken. The once trapped carriers and HMMWVs of Alpha Company surged forward toward the downed gunship and Lieutenant Dodge’s carrier.
As they passed Dodge’s carrier, pursuing the retreating ambushers, the Corpsman climbed on board the vehicle and began trying to help the injured Lieutenant.
Sanchez slid to the ground against the carrier. As he did, a Marine Captain, crouching low against enemy fire, dashed to the protection of the vehicle and looked down at the Gunny.
“Captain Lewis!” Sanchez started to get up. The Marine Captain grabbed onto his uninjured shoulder pushing him back down.
“Rest easy Gunny.” He looked at the Gunnery Sergeant’s arm, “How bad is it?”
“Not bad Sir,” replied Sanchez lying, “Lieutenant Dodge saved our sixes, Sir.”
“He’s a hero all right. This guy deserves a medal,” noted Lewis agreeing. He looked up at the Corpsman, “How is the Lieutenant?”
The Corpsman snorted, looking disgustedly at Sanchez and the Captain. “This hero has been murdered, Captain.”
“Murdered?!”
“He’s been shot in the back.” He and the Captain looked at the gunship pilot and weapon officer. Both still had their sidearms drawn. They were standing directly in back of the Corpsman and slumped body of Lieutenant Dodge.
2005 Zulu
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia
*
23 June 2003
Mac was sitting in her office, reviewing the deposition of her latest client. Shoplifting -- it sounded so simple, so clean cut -- on the surface.
She frowned, On the surface, her mind repeated, sounding like Harm, But what were the underlying causes?
Closing the case folder, she tried to blow an errant strand of hair now looped down on her forehead back into place. She merely succeeded in making it flip up and move over a couple of degrees.
She shook her head ruefully, "I hate you Harmon Rabb," she said good-naturedly to herself.
"Did I hear my name mentioned?"
She looked up at him with mock annoyance, "Have you forgotten how to knock?"
Rolling his eyes, Harm dramatically rapped three times on her doorframe, "Colonel,"
"Commander," She feigned surprise, "What can I do for you?"
Harm smiled wryly, “I was asking about my name being mentioned and also, aren’t you worried one of those stacks is going to start a chain reaction collapse in this office?”
Mac leaned back in her chair and smiled herself, “Hasn’t happened yet Counselor, are you making fun of my visual filing system?”
“Visual filing system?” Harm looked genuinely intrigued, “Is that what you call this? I call it a disaster waiting to happen,” Harm tossed out the bait, hoping she would snag it.
She did. “Careful Flyboy, are you mocking my system?” Mac never backed away from a challenge.
He upped the ante, “If you’re trying to recreate how the Leaning Tower of Pisa is able to lean without collapsing, then no,”
“I can find any file or piece of correspondence I *need* from my towers, Commander,” She saw his ante and raised it.
Just then Harriet breezed by carrying an interoffice mailer. She cut by Harm.
“Excuse me, Commander,” She turned her attention to the Colonel, “Ma’am is the Dixon testimony ready for mailing?”
Ah a challenge, thought Harm, This ought to be interesting. He folded his arms and watched with growing pleasure knowing that she wouldn’t find this one. That case took place over two weeks ago.
Mac saw the challenge. Turning to Harriet, she ignored Harm’s presence. “It’s right here Lieutenant,”
Mac began drilling down through the stack on her desk and picked it out. Smiling smugly, she handed it to Harriet who popped into the mailer.
“Thank you Ma’am,” she returned brightly. Her smile faded when she looked at Harm as she sidled past him, “Commander.” She said icily because she knew he had baited Mac about her filing system, again.
Mac was leaning back in her chair, her smile threatening to break into a laugh as Harm tried to recover his composure.
“How did you do that?” He finally managed after doing double takes at Mac in front of him and Harriet as she went back to her desk.
“It’s a secret,” She responded as she struggled to maintain her self-control.
“Like the time thing?”
“Yup,” Her bright smile took on a flirtatious lilt as she fixed him with an almost sensuous stare, “And if you’re good to me, someday I just may show you how to do both.”
Harm was about to come up with an equally witty retort. Unfortunately for him it probably would have ended in disaster if not for Tiner interrupting him.
“Commander, Colonel, the Admiral would like to see you in his office.”
“Thank you Tiner,” responded Mac as she got up from her desk. She shot Harm a ‘great going Flyboy, now we’re going to get it’ look.
Harm shot back his ‘what did I do?’ look.
Admiral A.J. Chegwidden was signing off on yet another supply form, when Tiner knocked.
“Enter.”
Tiner opened the door allowing Harm and Mac into his office. “Sir, Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie reporting as ordered.”
“Commander, Colonel,” he acknowledged their presence without looking up.
“Sir,” they both returned in unison standing ramrod straight in front of his desk.
“At ease.” He looked past them at the Petty Officer, “Thank you, Tiner,”
“Yes Sir.” He answered as he started to close the door.
“And Tiner, let me know the minute Commander Turner and Lieutenant Roberts are available,”
“Aye Sir.”
The Admiral looked at his two wayward officers over his reading glasses -- not betraying a hint of emotion.
“Have a seat Commander, Colonel -- relax, we have a few minutes before they can get here.”
Harm and Mac looked at each other warily and then settled into the chairs in front of their commander’s desk not quite sure what to expect.
The central air in the Admiral’s office hummed quietly. As the two officers sat in front of the Admiral, Chegwidden looked down again and began signing off on reports.
Mac looked at Harm with a mixture of confusion and alarm. Harm shrugged ever so slightly and settled down in the chair, rested his head on his right hand with his index finger lying alongside his temple. Mac tried her best to relax in the chair yet remain at attention.
“Commander, have you and the Colonel been working on that private assignment that I gave to both of you?” The Admiral never looked up from his paperwork.
Harm, sitting up suddenly, cleared his throat, “Um, yes Sir, ah- both us have been working on it Sir…”
“Good,” He growled in a friendly but gruff tone, “How is it coming, Colonel?”
“Slow but steady progress Sir,” It was Mac’s turn to sweat. She moved to the edge of her seat.
“Progress is a good thing Colonel;” He looked up and fixed her with a dead stare, “Because I won’t tolerate stagnation.” He then switched his glare to Harm, “From either of you.”
Both officers sat at attention in their chairs, looking straight ahead past the Admiral, “Aye, aye, Sir,” They responded in perfect neutral unison.
Noting their acknowledgment, he returned to signing the reports on his desk.
“We’ll talk more about this at a later time. Please keep me informed of your progress on this important matter,”
“Aye Sir.”
At that moment, a knock interrupted the cross-examination.
“Enter,”
“Sir, Commander Turner and Lieutenant Roberts reporting as ordered.”
“Thank you Tiner,”
“Sir,” they presented themselves in front of his desk as had Mac and Harm had.
“At ease,” he motioned to the empty chairs, arranged around his large oak desk. “Have a seat,”
He looked down at the work on his desk and continued signing off on various pieces of correspondence. He stopped for a moment and without looking up at them, pulled out large expandable file and placed it on his desk.
“Colonel, tell me what you know about the Marine operations around Al Nasiriyah on 23 through 29 March,”
Mac looked at the other officers and then began her report, “Well Sir, on 23 March, 1st Marine Expeditionary Force began operations to take Al Nasiriyah from the 2nd Medinah Armored Division - Republican Guard, Saddam Fedayeen and the Iraqi 11th Mechanized Division.”
She paused for a response. He merely looked at her. “Go on.”
“Casualties were heavier than expected and the force lost several personnel carriers in the battle, but they did eventually subdue the town.”
The Admiral nodded, “Yes they did, and Lieutenant Roberts,” Bud’s head snapped up at the mention of his name, “What do you know about Mirbullah?”
“Ah, it was listed as a suspected Al-Qaeda stronghold, roughly 10 miles northwest of Al Nasiriyah,” Roberts reported briskly, rolling off the facts he had gleaned from the last intelligence report on the area that he had received, “They were protected by units of the 2nd Medinah Armored Division, Republican Guard. After action reports indicate the operation was a complete success, Admiral.”
The Admiral opened a black folder and began reading. “On 25 March, the Second Battalion, Third Marines, also known as 36th Marine Expeditionary Unit, was designated to clear Mirbullah.” He looked at his JAG lawyers, “Contrary to all knowledge before today-that operation nearly failed.”
He ignored their surprised looks. “As the MEU came into the town, local Fedayeen forces rallied the badly demoralized Republican Guard and they ambushed our force. Recon by the attached LAV unit had indicated no enemy forces in the region.”
“Negligence Sir?” Ventured Bud.
“No, Lieutenant, simple fog of war. The LAV unit responded as soon as the Amphibious Tractor unit, GATORFORCE ONE reported it was pinned down. No, this one is far trickier. The unit was pinned down and LAVs could not help extract them.”
Harm looked as if he were about to open his mouth, but Admiral Chegwidden anticipated his analysis “Though reinforcements were tied down on the other side of the village, the Colonel in charge was able to spare one of his gunships,”
“So no negligence on the Colonel’s part,” Surmised Sturgis.
“Correct, Commander.” The Admiral continued his story, “Just before the gunship arrived, a lone personnel carrier broke ranks from the others and placed itself between the enemy forces and the pinned troops.”
“He sacrificed himself Sir?” Mac still wasn’t sure where this was going.
“Exactly, Colonel. 1st Lieutenant Phillip M. Dodge, commander of tractor two zero alpha, was in charge of the detachment of combat engineers assigned to the 36th MEU. According to eyewitness accounts, Lieutenant Dodge ignored his own safety and with a volunteer crew, placed his carrier in the line of fire and held off at least two attempts by the Iraqis to storm the Marine positions. At great risk to himself, he manned the carrier’s machine gun, keeping lead elements of the attacking enemy force from overwhelming him and the trapped vehicles of GATORFORCE ONE. This despite the fact that the Iraqis had holed his vehicle with several RPG rounds.”
Harm leaned forward in his chair, “That would make him a candidate for at least Silver Star, Admiral. But it’s a posthumous award isn’t it? And there were some problems with the award verification…”
The Admiral looked at him. Once again, Harm had proved why AJ Chegwidden put up with the Commander’s unorthodox methods.
“That’s right Commander, Lieutenant Dodge did not survive. He died of wounds sustained as the action was winding down.”
Mac winced as she listened. For him to have done such a selfless act only to be killed just as the battle was ending…
Harm asked what everybody else present wanted to ask, “Ah Sir, bravery award verification usually isn’t the purview of JAG, so how are we involved?”
Harm hit nail on the head. “We’re involved Commander, because Lieutenant Dodge wasn’t killed by enemy fire. He was murdered.”
He ignored the stunned looks of the officers. The Admiral handed out copies of the report – each was stamped CLASSIFIED.
---TBC...
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