The moist fallen needles of the pine tree made a soft mat for Robert Jordan to lie on as he watched the scene below him.  Beyond the steep slope of the hill on which he rested a thick line of enemy soldiers slowly advanced along the road, walking silently, without the sharp claps of rubber on pavement which many outfits emphasize.  

            Robert Jordan waited, unmoving, for the soldiers to pass.  His orders were to wait until they had made it around the corner, out of sight, before planting the charges that would sabotage their inevitable retreat.  An ambush of sorts awaited them around the corner, and he knew he would not have long before the soldiers came sprinting back towards him.

            But, before the appropriate time had come, when Robert Jordan could still see a few soldiers disappearing behind the bend in the road, a huge explosion rocked the hills and sent up a cloud of dust from where the soldiers had been advancing.  Seconds later a surge of enemy troops quickly filled the road.  They were no longer moving in the tight, beautiful lines that they had used while moving the other way.  They were panicked and moving in all directions, scrambling into the forest to make their escape.  Robert Jordan watched as many were taken down—shot in their backs—as they ran.  

Eventually, men began running past Robert Jordan himself.  He remained still, nearly invisible under piled leaves and branches.  A man fell, dead, to Robert Jordan’s right, just five feet behind him.  There were three other Americans hiding nearby, and he heard one of his them curse and try running himself, only to be felled seconds later with a good shot by a retreating enemy on the road. 

Robert Jordan remained still until the majority of the enemy soldiers had disappeared.  He then loosed his pack from its hiding spot, removed his personal belongings, and heaved it down towards the road.  It bounced once, rolled twice, and slid the rest of the way to the base of the hill, near the road’s edge.  He began to hear the loud roar of the enemy trucks as they made their way back.  He decided to abandon his original target, a bridge a quarter of a mile back.  It would require more time than he had.

Three trucks rounded the bend and became visible to Robert Jordan.  He identified the first as a personnel truck, most likely filled with officers, and the two which followed it were flat-beds loaded with large artillery covered in tarpaulins.  He pulled the detonator just as the rear of the front truck became even with his pack.  

The resulting blast pushed the rear of the leading truck forward in up, pitching it into a flip.  The ceiling was ripped, and enemy officers spilled through the air, legs kicking.  Robert Jordan ducked his eyes against the rock and dirt shrapnel which ripped into the trees around him, then looked for the other two trucks, but they were still invisible through the dust-filled air.  He knew that he had at least neutralized their artillery.  He got up and set off back towards the friendly side of the lines, stopping only shortly to finish off an enemy officer, who laid screaming and injured by the side of the road, with his rifle.

:Sitting in town, Robert Jordan is shook back in to reality by screaming voices.  He had just witnessed a murder, and the sound of the gunshot had thrown him in to a whirling flashback of action during his service.  That part of his life was over now, but it would forever influence the continuing parts.  He frowns and squints as he attempts to identify the assailant.:

Very good story Robert!  Don't you think so Teddy?

MrBean moves Teddy's head up and down in a yes motion.

Galactus aknowledges the wonderful story that Robert has told in the streets.

That story was very much intense,I liked it:) Perhaps you should write more,I like intensing things to read.

Ah, I only WISH that I had written this encounter, Galactus.  Sadly, this is but one story of my life, taken from my time in the service.  Though that time has passed, its memories frequently haunt me.

I'm glad that you enjoyed it, however.  I've always taken pride in my story-telling abilities.  I'll make an effort to share more of my life stories as I find the time.

Thanks again for the kind words, fellas.

WWI??? I served also, what unit were you in??

No, my friend.  I served overseas, but in a different conflict.  My unit was of guerillas behind the enemy lines, and it was a very dangerous time.  One must always be on one's toes.