Eli groaned, as he came to, swimming out of a dark black pool of silence and numbness. His heart hammered in his head like sledgehammers and his ears were ringing. He felt dazed, disoriented, confused as he rolled over. The pain in his head married with the dizziness he felt and suddenly his stomach rebelled hard. The smell of burning flesh did not help as his other senses began to catch up even as he quietly wretched, his body wringing itself out like a dishrag. 

Finally empty, he heaved again, but it was dry and nothing came up. Collapsing back to the ground from his knees, he sighed, only to slowly sit up, reaching around for his canteen. As he pulled it off his belt a dribble of water ran out of it. Shrapnel or a bullet had punctured it, making it pretty much useless. "Great," he muttered as he flopped the canteen down, then pulled another free from his belt. It was solid, and full. He took a swig and washed his mouth out, then spat it out on the ground. Taking another pull, he took in some water, which his guts didn't rebel against. 

Weapons check, he decided. His newer M16A1 (Named Rebecca, or Becca for short) seemed to be okay. His pistol was strapped to him, and he still had several mags. By then he was aware that half the unit were up and moving. Like hte rest, his joints felt as though they were made from crushed glass and every movement hurt. Last time he'd felt like this was either falling down Beverly Cliffs back home, or a bar fight the day after. Machete, knife, and all his gear was there. his helmet he found which had a piece of metal sticking into it. Tossing the pot, he shook his head. He'd been sitting on it for a seat on the way in. Apparently it had saved his balls from getting blown off but he'd gotten a concussion for it, he guessed. 

As the Sergeant outlined the situation he said nothing, and instead moved toward the interior of the chopper, after picking up Thumper from the ground. He loaded a 40 mikemike but didn't snap it shut. The noise would give them away. Instead he flipped his selector to semi-auto and belly crawled to the nose of the huey, bracing his rifle there, while making sure his grenade launcher was ready to rock and roll. As soon as Sar'nt's grenade went off he snapped his  launcher closed then looked for muzzle flashes for return fire. 

A moment after he had them he plotted for the drop and fired, sending a 40mm grenade sailing with it's characteristic BlOOp! With the shell whizzing on it's way he jerked back down behind the wreckage. He didn't feel like being a target while his hands reloaded. They shook a bit as he pulled a grenade out from the bandolier and put it in place. Snapping it shut, he paused for a moment to see how conditions were shaping up.