This is the story of William A. Tomes Hill. Well I wouldn't really call it a hill; it's actually a mountain range in California. It was formed from an earth quake. The "Hill" is about 150 feet high. I wouldn't call it a hill, myself. 

I was a Special Force's Officer for the United States Army. My name is LT. Michael C. Jones. I'm from a small Nebraska city named Ralston. I was informed this morning that I was going to William A. Tomes Hill to try to take it from the Russian. I didn't think it would be that big of a mission, but I was very, very wrong. We were supposed to take this hill because on the coastal side of the mountain is where our old French drop point (for reinforcements). 

I was not one of the main squads that were going to attack. I would be a dropped off by a helicopter 4 miles at our meeting point. By the time I would be dropped off one squad will have already started moving out.

[In The Helicopter]
"Mike, how ya doin buddy?"
"I'm good Joe, little jumpy."
"Ya well the odds are the first squad will take them slimeballs out and we won't have to shoot a shot."
"I hope so Joe, I hope so."
As the helicopter landed our new commander and chief came and wanted to have a talk with us. There was probably 25 or 30 of us. 
"You have been chosen from thousands of U.S. Special Force's to back up some of our finest GI's. You will be leaving tomorrow to try to take William A. Tomes Hill. We are all hoping that the squad I sent out this morning will take the hill, and none of you will have to fight. You will be issued tents after dinner. That is all."
I, myself couldn't wait for dinner, I could eat a hog. After dinner we were issued tents, and I was put with some guy named Jimmy. He was very nice, but a little edgy. We didn't talk much, we went straight to sleep, cause we were both beat.

The morning we were sent out was one of the nicest days I'd seen in a long time. The sun was out, the birds were chirping, I couldn't have asked for a better day. It must have taken 2 hours to get to the mountain, and then we had to climb it. The climbing took a good 3 hours, I thought I was going to die climbing that mountain. When we got to the top I almost fainted, and I know I wasn't alone. As we looked over to where the little Soviet base was supposed to be we didn't see it. Instead we saw an unreal base, one that made any base I'd ever seen look sad and pathetic. And as we looked to the wall of the base we saw the squad that was sent in the previous day, all dead. We called back to our meeting point and told our commander and chief what we saw. He told us to wait there and he'd send everyone else he had to come and help.

After 6 hours of waiting, a very large group of GI's, must have been 1000 - 2000 of em, come over the horizon. We waited all night till they all got to the top of the mountain. We would attack tomorrow. That night I was put on the late, late watch. It was pretty darn scary, but I made it.

That day we climbed down the mountain and we started our attack. I was sent as a sniper with about 15 others, we were to go start taking out the guys at the guard towers. I had never shot a sniper rifle; I had always shot M16 and 9mm. I didn't do to bad, shooting all the targets given to me. After one side of the base's guard towers were out we attacked. And they knew we were coming. Right after we broke down a section of the wall they opened fire on us. The front lines had no chance. As bullets whizzed by I found an M16 lying on the ground and picked it up. As I ran forward to get in position to fire, guys fell dead left and right of me. It was like D-Day 2. When I finally got in position to shoot, I dove to the ground and opened fire. I must have killed 20 or 30 guys before we moved forward. We finally had some leeway. We ran forward and destroyed as many buildings as we could. Bout 1 hour in we got back up, 75 Robot Tanks came in and helped us out. By the end of the day the base was no more. In the end we lost about 300 men at that wall, including Joe. 

I went on to take out another base, about 15 miles down. I was shoot twice in the leg in that next battle, but we won. And as I was discharged for being wounded in action I thought, "I was one of the few guys who can say I helped win our war against the Soviets."

And then I went home to my house in Nebraska, and lived a long happy life.

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