Eleven men in our unit and I drew the short straw.
“Take your time,” the captain said as he secured my harness and checked the fittings. “If he starts shooting, just back out. Once we know for certain if he’s out of ammo, we can form a better plan.”
A better plan. We probably should have started with that. I can live with bullet fragments in my leg. I can even live with a shattered elbow and a partially paralyzed right arm.
What I absolutely cannot get over is finding out that all the straws were short.