With one problem addressed and her mind freed from worrying about it, another concern immediately popped into Kozak’s head. As she turned her attention to the buildings they were fast approaching, the reality of the situation hit her like a head-on collision. She, Second Lieutenant Nancy B. Kozak, was leading American combat troops in a foreign country against a hostile force of unknown composition. And there was nothing between them and her except fifty meters of open space and her M-16
rifle. Yet there was no great paralyzing fear, no panic. Her concerns and thoughts, up to now, had been about practical matters, technical and tactical concerns. Only now, when they were deep in the execution of their pursuit, when all appeared to be going well, and all necessary deployments and decisions had been made, were concerns over personal safety beginning to emerge.
As she continued the approach, alert for any sign of movement, Kozak wondered if her conduct and the disregard for personal safety that had, up to then, come to her so effortlessly meant that she was brave. Or was it that her mind, so crowded with other concerns and thoughts, simply had not gotten around to alerting her to the fact that she was headed into real danger? What, she wondered, was courage and heroism? Was there any difference between them and stupidity and foolishness? After all, had it been smart for her to turn her back to the buildings, buildings that might be occupied by enemy soldiers, as they advanced, while she looked to see if Rivera and the 2nd Squad had come up? At the moment she had done it, it had been the right thing to do. Now, in retrospect, such a thing seemed dumb. Was that it? she thought. Were courage and heroism simply a question of doing what appeared to be right at a moment of danger and surviving? Strange thoughts. Strange questions. Thoughts and questions that had no place in her mind at that moment. For in an instant, they were at the first row of buildings and new problems demanded Kozak’s attention. Lofty thoughts of courage and personal conduct, for the moment, were replaced by the immediate tactical situation, which demanded Kozak’s full attention.
Without having to be told, Sergeant Maupin deployed his five men.
He, and three of his people, took to the right side of the street, flattening themselves against the buildings along the narrow street while the other two men of 1st Squad went to the left side of the street where Kozak and her radio man were. In two single files, they slowly moved down the street, the lead man in each file looking to the front, and those following automatically staking out a sector of responsibility across the street from them, searching for any signs of trouble. After moving down the street some fifty meters, Kozak signaled for 1st Squad to halt. Immediately, Maupin relayed the signal. His men stopped and squatted in place, their backs against the wall or in the doorways of the building they were in front of. With their rifles held at the ready, thumbs lightly brushing the mode selector switches, only their heads moved as they slowly scanned their sector of responsibility.
When she saw that all was calm and that they were in no immediate danger, Kozak decided it was time for her to report their progress to Wittworth and wait for Rivera to bring up 2nd Squad. While she scanned the street and buildings to her front, wondering why, in the middle of the day, there were no people or signs of activity, Kozak ran her hand down her right leg to grab the map she kept in the large pocket on the thigh.
Only after the fingers of her right hand had climbed over the flap and into an empty pocket did she realize that she had left her map on her Bradley.
For the briefest of moments, the image of the map, wedged under the open sight of the Bradley where she used it when mounted, flashed across her brain. In her excitement, she had forgotten it.
Pulling her right hand out of the empty pocket, she balled it up into a fist and pounded her thigh with it. Stupid, she thought. Stupid! All she seemed to be doing was bumbling from one dumb mistake to the next.
Thank God, she thought, there had been no contact. Even that thought triggered a new alarm. Since they began this wild goose chase, there had been no contact with the people they were supposed to be pursuing. By now, for all she knew, they could be halfway to Mexico City. And who, she wondered, were they pursuing? For the first time, she realized she had no idea how many people they were after, what they looked like, how they were armed, or even if they were all men or men and women. All she knew for sure was that she, and fourteen soldiers, were sitting on the outskirts of a Mexican city, with over two hundred meters, a river, and a row of bushes separating her from the rest of the United States Army.
With no idea of where, for sure, she was, who they were after, and what they faced, the absurdity of their situation suddenly became crystal clear. Though the thought of returning empty-handed, a failure in her first real-world test, was distasteful, she saw that to continue would be stupid.
Kozak could, after all, justify her decision to withdraw. Even Wittworth would understand. Other than her own ego, and orders that had been suspect from the beginning, there was no reason for going on. Without further thought, she decided it would be pointless to go any further. From her position, she ordered Sergeant Maupin to send two men down the street a little ways to provide security and early warning. They would need that while she issued the necessary orders and regrouped for then withdrawal back to the American side of the Rio Grande.
Kozak watched Specialist Ron Cody and Private John Gunti move out down opposite sides of the street. They had just disappeared around a slight bend to the right when Rivera came up behind her, bumping her slightly before stopping to watch the 2nd Squad closing up on the ist.
Kozak, not expecting the contact, lost her balance from the bump, and almost toppled over onto her face. Steadying herself, she twisted about and faced Rivera, noticing that, despite the exertion and excitement, he wasn’t breathing heavily. In fact, as she looked at him, she saw that he was hardly sweating. As Rivera continued to scan the area, Kozak looked down at his right leg to the pocket where she knew he kept his map. With great relief, she noticed the top of a folded map sheet sticking out of the large pocket on his thigh. Now all she had to do was figure out how she could get him to pull his map out without alerting him to the fact that she didn’t have hers. Innocently, almost nonchalantly, she asked, “Sergeant Rivera, where do you put us?”
Without looking at her, he pulled out the map and looked down at it for a moment. When he found the right spot, he pointed to it and shoved it in front of Kozak. “Here, I think. We’re right here, just inside of this village.”
Taking the map, Kozak looked at the spot, running her finger over the route they had taken from the river to where they were. As she did so, Rivera got closer to her and whispered in her ear. “Hey, Lieutenant. We gotta talk. I don’t think this is a good idea anymore.”
As she looked up from the map, a smile lit Kozak’s face. “Ah, gotcha there, Sergeant Rivera. Already ahead of you on that. You’re right. In fact, it’s half past time to go back.”
Rivera returned the smile as he backed away a couple of feet. “Well, there’s hope for you after all. Okay, should I pull 2nd Squad back to the row of bushes now while 1st covers from here?”
Rivera’s comment was more than a question. It was, Kozak understood, a very tactful way of making a recommendation. She was about to reverse the order, wanting instead to lead off with the 1st Squad, but changed her mind when she saw Rivera’s logic. First Squad was already in place, with a two-man security team out to cover the withdrawal. To pull 1st Squad out first would entail unnecessary confusion. “Good. I’ll remain with 1st here. When you’re ready, move out with 2nd. We’ll follow as soon as you’re set.”
Rivera, relieved that their insane little foray into Mexico was about to end, gave Kozak a “Wilco, no problem.” He was in the process of ordering Sergeant Russel Poer, squad leader of 2nd Squad, to take the squad back to the river embankment, when the sound of gunshots cut him off. For a second, there was dead silence as everyone in the 1st and 2nd squads froze in place. Kozak and Rivera looked at each other, realizing that the rifle or rifles that had fired the two rounds were not M-i6s. Kozak turned for a moment, looked down the street in the direction the shots had come from, then turned back to Rivera to tell him something just as a hail of gunfire shattered the silence. This time, the distinctive pop-pop of the M-16 could be heard mixed in with the crack of a high-power, larger-bore rifle. Cody and Gunti were in contact.
When the firing stopped, and without waiting to consult with Rivera, Kozak began to issue her orders. “First Squad, inside the buildings.
Second Squad, pull back to river embankment and be prepared to cover the withdrawal of the 1st Squad.”
Without having to be told twice, Maupin was up and yelling to his squad. “Rupp, Salas, into that house with the LT. Everyone else, in here with me. Move!”
Poer, likewise, was on his feet, rifle at the ready and crouching low as he ran down the street in the direction of the river. “Okay, people! You heard the lieutenant. Let’s look alive and get a move on, now!”
For several seconds, Rivera stood behind Kozak, watching her, the squad leader, and the response of their people to the orders. Only when he was satisfied that everyone was responding as they should and Kozak had a handle on the situation, did he grab Kozak’s arm. “I’ll stay here with ist Squad, Lieutenant, and cover the move of 2nd. I’ll give you two minutes to get set at the river embankment before I pull out of here.”
Turning her entire body around to face Rivera, Kozak reached out with her left hand and put it on Rivera’s right shoulder. “No. I’ll stay here with ist Squad. You go back with 2nd.”
Rivera was about to protest, but Kozak cut him off. “It’s my job, Sergeant Rivera. First in, last out and all that other horseshit. You know that. Now get moving.”
Looking in her eyes, he gave up. This was no time to argue. Besides, she was right. Had she been a man, he would never have made the suggestion. His offer, he knew, had been a knee-jerk reaction. For a second he had thought of her as a woman first, not as an infantry officer.
He would have to watch that in the future. Silently he turned and began to follow 2nd Squad, pausing for a second and yelling back to Kozak,
“Don’t fuck around and get sucked into a firefight, Lieutenant. Two minutes, no more.” With that, he was gone.
Turning her attention back to the direction the gunfire had come from, Kozak wondered where Cody and Gunti were. She was just beginning to become concerned, wondering if she should go up to the corner in order to check on them, when she heard the thumping of boots on the pavement coming toward her. Watching where the street bent around to the right, she could see chips of concrete and plaster fly off the walls from the impact of bullets an instant before she heard the report of the rifles that had fired those bullets. Since there was no return fire from an M-16, and the pounding of boots was growing louder, Kozak assumed that Cody and Gunti were coming back, under fire.
Straightening up, she lowered her rifle to waist level, flicked the mode selector switch with her thumb from safe to three-round-burst mode, and prepared to go forward to cover Cody and Gunti. She had taken no more than two steps when Specialist Cody, followed by Private Gunti, came tearing around the bend in the street, followed by another volley of rifle fire. Flattening herself against the building she was next to and raising the muzzle of her rifle, Kozak watched as Gunti spun around, lowered his rifle, and fired a three-round burst at an assailant Kozak could not see.
This stopped the rifle fire only long enough for Gunti to turn about and continue running toward Kozak.
As Cody came up to her, she yelled and pointed to an open door behind her. “In here.” Without pausing, Cody was past Kozak and through the open doorway. With Cody back and safe, Kozak turned her entire atten tion to Gunti, watching his every move with no thoughts of anyone or anything else. Gunti, still at the corner, had paused for a second to face his attackers before continuing on toward Kozak. As if the whole scene were in slow motion, Kozak watched Gunti as he began to turn toward her and safety. Suddenly, when he was midway through the turn, his eyes flew wide open, as if in surprise. At the same time, his body began to move sideways instead of forward. Pivoting on the one foot still on the ground, Gunti slowly turned away from Kozak and faced back toward the direction he had just come from, his arms flying out as he did so as if he were trying to balance himself. He couldn’t regain his balance, though.
Instead, he began to fall over backward, arms over his head, his rifle flying through the air, and his one foot on the ground coming up and out from under him. To Kozak, Gunti’s actions reminded her of a man who had lost his footing on ice. But there was no ice. Gunti had been hit and was going down.
There was no conscious thoughtras Kozak leaped forward, away from the relative safety of the wall, and began running to where Gunti was still in the process of falling. Not even after she was in the middle of the street, bounding toward Gunti as fast as her legs could carry her, did Kozak begin to think. Her only conscious thought, if indeed it was a thought, was to reach Gunti. What she was going to do when she reached him hadn’t occurred to her yet. She was running purely on adrenaline and driven by reactions.
As she neared Gunti, she held her rifle by the front guard in her left hand, and reached down with her right hand for Gunti. Grabbing the shoulder strap of his web gear harness without stopping, Kozak began to turn and head for an open door to her left. Gunti, however, didn’t budge.
The inertia of his six-foot two-inch, 195-pound frame resisted Kozak’s efforts to move it while her own forward momentum tore her grip from Gunti’s harness. The sudden turn, combined with the resistance, threw Kozak off balance, leaving her falling backward. Though she didn’t know it, this was fortunate for her, because her wild and unpredictable gyrations ruined the aim of the Mexican soldiers who had just unleashed a volley of fire at her. She hit the hard pavement butt-first, and the impact knocked the wind out of her and sent her sprawling. Only by sheer determination and luck did she hang on to her rifle.