The captain and his two buddies hide out among the desert dunes easing close to get a glimpse of the action. They have no weapons save for a combination can opener-pocketknife. But they don’t need weapons, they aren’t part of the war effort and this is all only a game to them. A story to tell in a clubhouse locker room or at a Saturday night card game.
The Iraqi raid squad spots them in plain sight. There is nowhere to hide. It plays out like in the movies: The raid squad approaches with vengeance, kicking up dust, weapons drawn.
The captain pisses his pants and his legs buckle. A knife and can opener no match for automatic weapons. He knows his trio will have to surrender or be killed. Or be killed without the option of surrender.
The squad closes in and just as the captain and his men are about to raise their hands, the raid squad, all the men together, drop their weapons, hold their hands high and fall to their knees.
With their own weapons turned on them they are marched to an American camp where the captain hands them over.
Back in the States the captain tells his story but with glory: I captured an Iraqi raid squad during the war, he says as he receives the hero’s welcome.
Back in Arabia we know the truth and mute his name.