Any Sharpshooters Here? He Shouted — Then the Quiet Supply Girl Lifted the Rifle and Saved Them All
Автор: FOB Stories
Загружено: 2026-01-20
Просмотров: 1997
The convoy was already on fire when the first scream cut through the radios.
Not a shout. Not a command. A scream.
Black smoke rolled across the road like a living thing, choking the air, stinging eyes, turning everything into silhouettes. A Humvee burned on its side, tires melting, ammunition popping inside the wreck like distant thunder. Marines were pinned behind twisted metal and shattered concrete, bullets cracking past their helmets, too close, too fast.
Someone yelled for a medic. Someone else was praying.
Near the rear of the column, their designated marksman lay on his back, blood soaking through his shoulder, his rifle just out of reach, half-buried in dust and glass. He tried to crawl. He couldn’t.
A Gunnery Sergeant grabbed the rifle, spun, and roared into the chaos, “Any sharpshooters here?”
No one answered.
Not a word. Not a hand. Not a breath.
Then, from behind a burned supply crate, a small figure stepped forward.
She was quiet. Too quiet. Her helmet was scuffed, her vest marked SUPPLY, her hands still shaking from hauling ammo boxes minutes earlier.
Someone laughed.
Another voice muttered, “You?”
A third barked, “Get back in your lane, sweetheart.”
She froze, heat on her face, the entire convoy staring.
And in that moment, no one believed she could save them.
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