The winter skies over Saudi Arabia and Kuwait were crystal clear. Nature’s myriad pinpricks provided ample light for the night vision goggles strapped on the heads of the Marines. Just across the border the ruins of their target smoldered. It had been a successful artillery raid and the Marines were satisfied with their work. Above them, in the sparkling night air, American and Coalition aircraft enjoyed the horizon to horizon visibility, using it to hammer pre-assigned targets or jump on unwary targets of opportunity.
Out of the starry night sky, the A-6s roared in over their brother Marines and pickled off their bombs. Over the target, the casings surrounding the sub-munitions stripped away and the deadly cluster bombs spewed out like a shotgun blast. The anti-personnel and anti-armor bomblets rained down and popped all around the artillerymen. Protected only by the canvas on humvees or the thin armor shielding, the Marines were sitting ducks. They were in air defense formation but the decimated Iraqi air force was not expected to attack. They certainly didn’t expect Marine flyers to ruin their day.
The Rockeye cluster bombs did their work. Two Marines were killed and three others, including Miguel Arroyo, were wounded. Standing exposed in the top hatch of the howitzer, he took a frontal blast to his body. Protected only by a flak jacket and helmet, shrapnel tore into his arm and shredded his face. Arroyo, already exposed outside the turret hatch, had jumped to serve the .50 caliber machine gun mounted beside him. He cranked the charging handle back and chambered a round and began firing at the attacking aircraft as the ordnance exploded all around. As the aircraft completed their attack, the column halted, Marines jumped to the assistance of the wounded and the frantic calls for help were broadcast out over the serene desert air. Miguel was dragged from the rear of the howitzer, broken and bleeding but conscious.
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