He didn't like leaving Bobby back there and him up with the white boys, but that was the sergeant's orders, and sometimes you just had to hold your nose and follow orders. He off-loaded the belts for the pig, though, because Bobby was gonna need them, onto a GI towel to keep them from getting fouled and it was bad news to take the pig's ammo into a close assault type situation. He was tempted to take a drink of the canteen, but nixed the idea -- if he survived, he'd take down an entire canteen, giving Bobby half so they could both get some down without taking too much and cramping, because leaving it half-full meant it would slosh around, and the little shit...that's what counted. It was optimistic planning, figuring to survive the close assault, but he had to think positive out in this muthafucka. A canteen of water was something to look forward to.

He moved toward Ryan's position carefully, keeping his eyes peeled as he moved with one of the others, feeling strangely exposed without Bobby D nearby. He tried to pick out the cover ahead of time, figuring out where he could get on his belly in the dirt if the whole thing got bad and they had to advance under fire, all while his knees started doing their knock routine. In a normal situation, hitting like this made sense, but the problem in the back of Buck's skull was that they were cut off. There was no other squad. It was just them in this bad bush with black pajamas everywhere all around them. He knew that as soon as the fighting was done, down to the second, they'd have to di-di out of there and play cat and mouse with Charlie. Usually, US Army was doing the hunting, but this time, they were the meat and this was Charlie's back yard.