From there the sleek unit teamed 10 to 15 miles deeper into the wooded hills of the Silava where they found Riga, a fairly populated region and also where the nations university was seated.
Although things had been quiet there for a few days, some shelling had started right around the edges of Radviliskis. They received word to catch up with a commando team already in route from the USS Eisenhower to meet with two other UN teams already in the area who had established a sort of camp base.
While there each had a cot to the corner of which he had tacked a black and white photo of an old flame and her dog. From where he lay it seemed a snapshot from paradise. Now who's waiting for who, he thought?
Despite the brutal pace they kept from day to day his body struggled with tremendous bouts of fatigue. A few thought he had underestimated the concussive powers of the blast much earlier and thought he should return to the medic.
On this particular morning alarms rang out early and were numerous, first around their tent and then the entire encampment. He could hear the steam breaks firing up, the deep throated supply trucks revving engines. Already they were being filled by a new assembly line which appeared to be Navy or Marines and nearly finished in their task.
Word at the mess hall told of 300,000 new Russian troops who were at the ready and that others were being drafted. Putin had delivered a speech on Soviet national broadcasting in which he had made a point of declaring his readiness, if necessary, to the use nuclear weapons.
My God – he said. What does he think he's accomplishing? My God!
Just then, as he looked into a more thorough report and finished his coffee, the Sgt. took him aside and asked him to see the medic.
I'm good, no really I am. It's just headaches and I'm better than I was three days ago, that's for sure.
The Sgt. shook his head – Let yourself heal, we need you out there.
