Howard studied the clouds. He knew that if visibility got bad up there, they would be stuck. He knew the enemy could regroup and they would have to fight through the night. Not a good scenario. At least the wounded had left the valley. While they waited for more helicopters to arrive, the survivors split up into chalks. Howard was with Walton’s group.
During that time, Howard had identified HIG fighters moving northwest on the back side of the wadi. Walton was worried that they would threaten the aircraft, so Howard, using his sniper rifle, began firing at them. It was enough to hold them off.
When the Chinook landed, everybody quickly loaded up. He and Walton waited by the ramp to make sure that all the commandos got on board. Soon they were the last two.
“Get on,” Walton said.
“No, you get on,” Howard said.
Both wanted to be the last to go. Walton won the argument. Climbing up the ramp, Howard tried to pick his way to the front, near the gunners. He hoped to stick his rifle out of the window and get in a few more shots before clearing the valley. But a few steps in—after trying to navigate around a tangled mess of gear and the legs of commandos sitting on the floor in the fuselage—he slammed his shin on a resupply box strapped to the floor.
Nope, I am sitting down now, he thought.
Finding some space on the floor, he could hear the helicopter’s engines whine and start to power up. The wheels lifted off the rocks and the helicopter shot into the sky. Howard could see the valley dissolve into clouds.