Stuff gets tense and you do what you gotta do. Rather get shot myself than feel a cat scatter my guts in 5 directions. Not an altogether unique assessment so far as I can determine and as a case in point:
1970, just east of the A Shau Valley a Marine recon team in hard contact called for air support. We arrived and he popped a smoke, lots of small arms fire in the background when he talked on the radio..he says "Shoot my smoke". The Cobras did that.
We picked him up about 20 minutes later. He was the sole survivor of a 6 man team and there were dinks stacked up around their hilltop perimeter like cord wood. Piece of shrapnel had deflected off the radio and nicked his pecker, adding insult to a couple of bullet holes elsewhere. Lad was smilin' though all the blood however...
You do what you have to do, maybe you get the bear, maybe he gets you. Life doesn't come with guarantees...
