He slammed lower behind the outcropping and felt his face, seeing blood on his assault gloves. His platoon leader, First Lieutenant Blake Alberty, threw himself into the prone and said with black humor, “You get our asses out of here, and I’ll get you another Purple Heart.” Blackmar said, “I’ve got nothing else to work with. The eighty-ones won’t reach and the Apaches are dry.” Another stream of incoming machine-gun rounds raked their position, and Alberty returned fire, saying, “We’re in trouble. And I’m not going to be the next COP Keating.” Both from the Twenty-Fifth Infantry Division, they were part of a string of combat outposts in the Kunar province of Afghanistan. Ostensibly designed to prevent the infiltration of Taliban fighters from the nearby border of Pakistan, in reality they were a giant bull’s-eye for anyone wanting a scalp. Attacked at the COP on a daily basis, they still followed orders, continuing their patrols to the nearby villages in an effort to get the locals on the government’s side.
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