|
Second squad sat around smoking cigarettes and taping down items that they would be carrying on tonight’s ambush. Most men were quiet except for the usual ones who always seemed to be running their mouths. Specialist Moore was telling his experience at Woodstock last summer for the tenth time. Moore’s nickname was “Drugs”, a burnt out hippie from Delaware who had permanent bloodshot eyes and a mouth that was always hanging open, like it took too much effort for him to close it. Even the Company commander and First Sergeant started calling him Drugs.
“This one girl covered in that Woodstock mud came walking over to me and started preaching about all that free love and ****, so taking the hint I just started making out with her. Haha, Man, that blond chick blew my mind.” Drugs said, mumbling out his words.
“Shut up you **** talking hippie and pass me your extra mags.” Sgt. Rollins ordered. Rollins, the squad leader, couldn’t stand Drugs or any of his stories. He used to say he would rather go back to the world and shoot hippies than be here in Vietnam shooting NVA or VC like he’s been doing for the last three years. Two weeks ago he had Drugs walking point on a routine patrol and started to get strong whiffs of marijuana. Sure enough when he caught up to Drugs he found him puffing on a handmade, bamboo pipe. After Rollins backhanded Drugs in the mouth, he vowed never to have him on a point again. Drugs was perfectly fine with that. For Drugs, walking point was "worse than a bad trip on brown acid."
There was one type of person that crawled up Rollins’ ass more than hippies, conscientious objectors, and he had one of those too. Private “Panz” Joel was a tall skinny Jehovah’s Witness from Vermont. A conscientious objector in an infantry company, Rollins could never understand what the hell his command was thinking. He made use of him by having him dig fighting positions, filling sandbags or any other crappy detail that would come along. On patrols he would be the mule who carried all the extra gear that the squad would need. Rollins would sometimes lend Panz out to other squads for certain favors like getting his squad out of burning all the human waste.
“Drugs, go get Panz over here to start loading up.” Rollins ordered.
“Where is he?” Drugs replied.
“Where is he what? Buddy? *******? Dirt bag? I do have a title!” Rollins shouted. He was one of the few Sergeants at Pink that still demanded discipline. He had a few more months on his tour before he rotated back to Fort Polk to be a Drill Sergeant.
“Where is he, Sergeant? Sorry Sergeant, I didn’t mean any disrespect.” Drugs replied quickly after remembering how bad that backhander hurt.
“I lent him out to the mortar maggots to help rewire the perimeter.” Rollins said.
Drugs walked across Firebase Pink which overlooked a dense and dark jungle. When he found Panz, he smacked him on the back of the head.
“Let’s go, where moving out pretty soon. Rollins wants you to start loading up. So are you ready to start killing yet or what?” Drugs asked.
“Nope. I always got the impression that hippies were into peace and happiness? Why aren’t you?”
Drugs never answered him. Drugs never saw himself as a hippie. Peace, love and all of that were unrealistic to Drugs and he proved it in Vietnam having eight confirmed kills. Two kills for each month he had been there.
The squad moved out in a single file formation with Pfc. Howard on point. Howard was the best point man the squad had. An all American, blond haired boy from California. He was one of the few that believed in what he was doing. He treated everyone with respect, even Panz. A few of the Green Berets based on Pink took him out on a few patrols after hearing that Howard had plans to go through the Special Forces Selection Course. They taught him everything that there was to know about the bush. All the different types of booby traps, tunnel systems, and how to use all his senses on point. He didn’t mind point at all. Most of the time he actually volunteered. It would take his mind off everything except the jungle and the enemy. He was a great asset to Second Squad everyone knew it.
The squad left the firebase with their M-16's locked and loaded. Pvt. Hopper Kelly from Boston carried his M -60 machine gun over his left shoulder with his assistant gunner Pvt. Neal walking behind him carrying a pack of 7.62 ammunition for the “Pig”. Until recently, they never exited Pink using the gate. They would have gone out through the wire in a random spot to avoid booby traps and detection. Things around Pink were a little relaxed these days since they haven’t had any contact in weeks. It seemed as though the whole war had moved down toward the Delta.
Howard walked down the bare hillside until he found a good spot to enter the jungle. They would be moving six kilometers tonight, hoping to get to their ambush point before dusk. Everyone seemed to be relaxed about the ambush.
The heat was almost unbearable as they made their way up and down several hills until they reached the valley. They had to stop several times to drink water. Drugs started to hum "Hello I Love You” by The Doors as they entered the valley. Two months ago this valley was full of VC. Most patrols could expect contact if they even came close to this area. Pink was being mortared four times a day on average from this location. With all the Napalm, rockets and artillery that were poured into this area, Charlie remained. Tunnel systems were the only guesses, though none were found by the Green Berets and LURPs, who were the only one’s crazy enough to stroll around here during the VC’s occupation.
The patrol moved on for an hour before Howard paused, standing in a crater signaling for Sgt. Rollins. Howard wanted to double check his distance and direction before moving further into the jungle. The rest of the squad gathered together in another nearby crater.
“Moonscape Park, that’s what they’re calling this valley because of all the craters.” Hopper Kelly said.
“The last time I was here it was on a four-man patrol when the place was hoping with activity. It was spooky as ****. We were sitting around like we were now, only it was around 0230. Dark as ****. We were listening for anything out of the normal. I was seeing and hearing **** all night, but I knew my mind was ******* with me. I would look at a rock and think it was Charlie, you know how that goes. Suddenly a Huey came out of nowhere and flies overhead and slows down. It was so low I thought the thing was going to land on us. We were all wondering what the **** the pilot was thinking, or even worse seeing. He hovered in circles above us for about 20 minutes whipping dirt, rocks and mud all over the place. I thought I was going deaf. Anyhow after 5 minutes he lets two rockets go tearing into the jungle, I’m not kidding when I say about 50 meters from us. We thought he was firing at us, so we began getting up to scram. Sgt. Rollins was bent over picking up his ruck when a scared VC ran full force right into him, tackling his ass to the ground. That VC was running so fast that he didn’t even see us. Before any of us could react, the dink dropped his AK and sped off into the bush. Two minutes later the Huey flew off back towards Pink and everything got quiet again.”
“So what happened after that?” Drugs asked.
“That was it, we sat around quietly to see if Charlie was still around. After a few hours of nothing, we humped back to Pink.”
“So our fearless squad leader got spooked, Huh? The way he walks around like John Wayne or somebody and he couldn’t even react when the enemy bumped right into him?” Panz sarcastically asked.
“Listen you waste of flesh. Rollins is the best squad leader we could have. If any one's going to keep us alive, it’s going to be him. Yeah, he can be a real ******* sometimes, but it’s for our own good.” Hopper replied.
“Hey, **** you Panz. Who asked you ****? You don’t even have a weapon, we’re a weaker squad now because we had to take you in. Instead of six guns firing, we’re only going to have five! We're out here protecting your lame ass.” Neal lashed out.
Panz just sat against the wall of the crater and took a sip from his canteen. That wasn’t the first time he was verbally attacked for being a conscientious objector. He was almost used to it. It was only his second week here and he knew he had a lot more confrontations to deal with before his year was up.
Sgt. Rollins slowly walked back to the crater. The guys knew something was up in the way he walked. He didn’t have his usual stride. He walked a lost slower and hunched over like he was waiting for action.
“Listen up. I want the pig to remain in this crater facing in the direction of Howard. Panz, you stay in here too and don’t do anything stupid tonight. Drugs, I want you 20 meters to the left, keep your ******* ears open. Howard’s going to be 20 meters to the right.” Rollins ordered.
“What’s up, Sarge?” Hopper asked as he settled his M -60 on small mound of hard brown dirt.
“Fish. Someone is cooking some nasty smelling fish. We walked another 50, 60 meters North until we got a whiff of some nasty fish. Anyone that’s out here is up to no good. The closest village is four klicks from here. Special Forces could have a patrol out, but they shouldn’t be anywhere near this area. Besides even those nuts wouldn’t eat whatever the **** that smell was.” Sgt. Rollins replied.
“ **** man, they probably already know we’re here and learned every word to every Jimi Hendrix song thanks to Drug’s singing” Neal said as he pulled a claymore mine out of his rucksack and began to prep it.
“Everyone grab a bite to eat and keep your **** tight tonight. I’m not liking
this one.”
Drugs took one more puff off his camel cigarette and smothered it into the rock that sat next to him. He had to have that last smoke before the sun set. He could hear the guys off to his left talking in soft voices. He could distinguish Hopper’s Boston accent anywhere. He was complaining that he was tired of eating pears, or peaahs from a can. It also appeared that they were having a tough time trying to reach Pink on the net. No surprise to anyone. Drug’s just wished they would shut up, after all they were the one’s complaining about his singing earlier.
Drugs stared off into the jungle and noticed that his mind was ******* with him again. He hated nights out in the jungle. This was the time when his imagination would go crazy. It was a very spooky time. Some of the shadows would seem like they were moving. Other times he would get the feeling that someone was crawling up behind him to slice his throat. He had heard a lot of stories about how slick the VC could get.
Around 0200 he started to doze but was rapidly awoken by a dream of some women screaming. The scream sounded so real, he thought. Dreams were always ******* with him. A few weeks ago out in the bush he caught himself dozing on watch, when he came out of it he could see the outline of an oriental face 6 inches from his own, looking him dead in the eye. It seemed so real he could feel and smell his breath. It was either his imagination or someone had laced his dope.
Even though his buddies were a stone’s throw away, he hated sitting out here alone. It was pitch dark at this hour, he could hardly see his hand in front of his face. At least he didn’t have shadows messing with his head. He attempted to swat away some of the mosquitoes that were feasting on him. All he could hear was that ******* buzzing sound, nonstop. Hearing some women screaming would be a blessing as long as he didn’t have to listen to those ******* mosquitoes trying to suck his brain out.
He often had thoughts at night about his whole squad being dead. It’s possible, he thought, he wouldn’t even know it until daylight. He would be all alone in some jungle in some ****** up world far from Delaware. He wondered what his family was doing right now back home in the great State of -
What was that! He knew he heard something. He checked his eyes to make sure he wasn’t asleep. He was hoping it was just some monkey or something, not a human. He heard a few loud snaps coming from his front, then nothing. He shook his head too get the mosquitoes off his head then he heard a Vietnamese voice from where he heard the twigs snap. It was a good 150 meters away, still too close for comfort. ****, were the others listening to this too? Were they all wasted? Suddenly, Panz threw himself down next to him.
“Hey, Rollins said don’t blow your claymore or shoot unless were shot at first. We have no communication to call for help, so were just going to try and lay low ‘till morning.” Panz whispered.
“Alright, it’s sounds like they’re setting up camp right in front of us.” Drugs said.
“Rollins thinks they’re setting up a mortar position to pound Pink, they have the perfect defilade for that. Anyhow I’m going to be over here with you for a bit if you want to get some shut eye.”
Drugs had no problem taking him up on that offer. Before he fell asleep he found it funny that with death only a short distance away and he could still close his eyes and try to sleep.
Howard crawled into the crater were Rollins and the 60 crew were laying low in. He had also heard all the commotion that had been going on not far from their position.
“Sarge, give me the radio and I’ll take it back to the last hill we were on and try to reach Pink. This could be a fire mission at it’s best. Our mortars could take them out easily.” Howard said.
He was right, Rollins thought. If there was anyone in the squad he could rely on when it came to calling for fire it would be Howard. On the other hand, Charlie could be all over the place and sending him back to the last highpoint at this hour could be deadly. He would have to break light discipline to figure the coordinates and a little light in this darkness could be seen for miles, even if he covered himself with a poncho. He wouldn’t be able to call in any corrections if the mortars were off either.
“Sarge, you got to let me do it, it’s only a half a klick back.We know there exact location on the map.I just need communication and grids and we're good to go.” Howard persisted.
“OK, after the fire mission I want you to stay in that position until sunlight, we’ll come back for you. It might take a little while depending on the situation, so you’ll have to hang tight. Don’t get into any ****.” Rollins replied.
Rollins was still a little unsure. It would be suicide if he moved the whole squad back, they would be detected within seconds of moving out. The fire mission would also be a little too close for Rollins’ liking, but he figured it was a risk he would have to take.
Howard took off all his gear including his helmet, strapped on the radio and set out to the rear. He would have to move slowly and carefully to remain silent, it would easily take him over an hour. The squads last radio check was up on that hilltop, so he had confidence that he would be able to reach Pink.
Rollins ordered Drugs and Panz back into the crater with the rest of the squad and told them the plan. All they had to know was to sit still, stay quiet and wait. They could still hear the VC moving around making all sorts of noises. It sounded like they were having a party. A few of them actually started to sing, which was a big relief to the squad. If they were singing that meant that Charlie had no idea that anyone else was out here.
Neal had been pulling rear security since Howard left an hour ago when he noticed a small glimmer of light on the hilltop.
“What the **** is he thinking? I can see that from here. Sarge check it out.” Neal whispered.
“ ******* A, he knows better than that.” Rollins replied.
After a minute the light went out. Rollins and Neal both sighed in unison. The VC were still singing and banging away. Thankfully, they hadn’t seen the light.
“Quiet! Do you hear that?” Hopper said.
“What?” Rollins asked.
The whole squad listened quietly. Rollins heard what Hopper was talking about. From behind them it sound like people running through the jungle. Sprinting, more like it, easily three or four of them. They were traveling in the direction of Howard’s location! It must have been a patrol out that detected his light.
“Oh ****, oh ****, oh ****!” Drugs whispered.
“Everyone shut the **** up. Howard will hear them. He’s smart, he’ll be alright.” Rollins ordered.
“I don’t hear anymore singing or banging. They know some thing's up.”
Hopper said.
From Pink two loud thumps could be heard.
“Here come the mortars, stay low” Rollins ordered.
The squad hunched down together at the bottom of the crater. Forty seconds later, the mortars cut threw the jungle’s canopy and exploded to their front. From the sounds of screams, it was a direct hit. Two more thumps from pink, and two more explosions too their front. The high pitched screams continued. More thumps, more explosions, more screams. The mortars continued for twenty minutes. Then it all stopped and everything went quiet, even the screams. Not a sound could be heard except for the heavy rapid breathing of the squad and the mosquitoes.
“Everyone good?” Rollins whispered.
“Holy ****! Yeah Sarge, we're all good.” Hopper replied.
The squad sat silently through the rest of the night listening for anything that might be out there, but nothing could be heard. Neal stared at the hill wondering if his buddy Howard was alright. Both had gone through basic training together at Fort Polk. After their graduation, Neal spent a week in California as a guest in Howard’s home. He didn’t want Howard to know, but he had fallen deeply in love with his younger sister, Amber. Howard could tell that there was a connection between both of them, but didn’t think it was anything serious.
Contined Moonscape Park (II)
Copyright 2008 Brendan
|
via Email
