13th Valley (13 page)

Sergeant Marquadt swung his chrome swagger and slapped the map. He was a large heavy set man with a ruddy, slightly disfigured face.

“Gentlemen, this valley is twelve air kilometers long. With the exception of this one major bow the river runs straight through the valley.” Marquadt traced his statement on the map with the tip of the swagger. “The headwaters of the river and the origin of the valley are in the rugged terrain here, to the east.” His voice rose and fell as he traced up and down the terrain. “The floor of the valley varies in width from 200 meters at its narrowest point to about two kilometers where it enters the Da Krong plain,” he boomed. “The Khe Ta Laou will be the single most useful navigational aid for aircraft flying under conditions of restricted visibility.”

Marquadt belched into his closed left fist and glanced at the brigade commander sitting isolated in the first row. The commander gave no indication of recognizing Marquadt's presence at all. The sergeant quickly continued. “There is a distinctive feature, a single, very high tree on a knoll where the river bows, which can be located visually from anywhere in or above the valley. It will serve as good navigational reference. You might want to note it on your maps at YD 148321.

“The valley floor is a brushwood area consisting of grass, bushes, secondary scrubs and elephant grass. The brushwood is discontinuous and varies in density from extremely heavy to moderate. In areas, particularly in the eastern end of the valley, this vegetation forms a canopy covering the river.

“The landform of the ground north of the Khe Ta Laou …”

Egan yawned loudly. He stretched his arms, rolled his shoulders. He looked around. Mick, he said to himself, these are the assholes who control your life. Fuck em. Twenty-six en a wake-up.

“Gentlemen,” Sergeant Marquadt bellowed, catching Egan's attention again. He was looking toward the back of the briefing hall where the infantrymen were easily distinguishable from the staff and rear personnel by their worn rumpled uniforms. “I spoke personally with several LRRPs (he pronounced it “lurps”) and they asked that I convey to you …”

“Sergeant,” the brigade commander interrupted gently without turning, “may we stick to the topography of the valley?”

“Yes Sir. Excuse me, Sir.” Marquadt regained his composure and continued with his prepared remarks. “The north wall is covered with single-and double-canopy jungle. The single-canopy forest averages twenty meters in height with scattered …”

I wonder what he was going to say, Egan thought. Egan looked at Brooks and he could see the L-T was also distracted.

“… at the western end of the valley, here, there is a thumb of Laotian territory protruding into the Republic of Vietnam. Highway 616, a major artery of the Ho Chi Minh Trail, runs up this peninsula and connects with supply routes in the hills near Lang Kerie, here, at YD 020295. From this junction …”

Why'd the Old Fox cut the dude off, Egan asked himself. Fucken typical.

“… Gentlemen, these are the highest mountains in I Corps. It will be rough out there …”

That's what he wanted to say, Egan said to himself.

“… Or you can look east down the Rach My Chanh across to the Sông Ô Lau. Looking east you will be able to count eleven ridges, each lower than the one closer to you. Eleven ridges with the shadows of twelve valleys reaching east to Hue. Gentlemen,” the voice boomed to the back of the room again, “from this perspective, you are standing on the 12th and highest ridge, with your back to the 13th valley.”

“What the fuck's this guy saying?” Egan's whisper exploded.

Brooks attempted to quiet him with a stern disapproving glance. “L-T, what the fuck did you bring me here for?” Egan snarled through clenched teeth. “I ken read a fuckin map. I don't need this fucker tellin me the fuckin valley runs east ta west.”

“Hush up, Danny.”

“Jesus H. Christ.”

“Sshhh.”

“… There is a paucity of natural helicopter landing zones in the operational area,” Marquadt continued.

“What's that mean, L-T?”

“Scarcity. Means we're going to have to cut them.”

“… the few which do exist,” Marquadt said, “are usually one-or-two ship landing zones requiring hovering approaches and departures and are so obvious they will probably be defended or booby-trapped. It will be desirable and necessary to construct new landing zones. Insertion LZs for the airmobile combat assault will be constructed with USAF-delivered weapons at locations jointly selected by ground force and air mission commanders.

“Gentlemen.” Marquadt closed his chrome swagger. “Thank you.”

People shifted. A mumble rose in the hall. Brooks and Egan straightened, stretched their backs. Egan was pissed. Marquadt sat down. The young lieutenant introduced a nervous buck sergeant in heavily starched fatigues. The buck sergeant was from the weather service.

“Sir,” he nodded to the brigade commander, “today's forecast for the coastal staging area and headquarters area is continued hot, humid and partially cloudy. Humidity: 60 to 90 percent. High Tuesday was 97 degrees; low 81 degrees. Today's high was 99 degrees; low 80 degrees. Sunrise tomorrow is 0635 hours; sunset 1924 hours. Rainfall to 1500 hours today has been zero; for the month 1.42 inches. Valid period of this report is 1500 hours 11 August to 1500 hours 12 August. Screaming Eagles have been in Vietnam 1850 days.

“The operational area is affected by winds, clouds, precipitation and ceilings of both the northeast and southwest monsoons during seasonal transition. Weather over the operational area: Cloudiness will occur over the Annamite Mountain Range. Ceilings will average 2500 to 4000 feet. The border areas will experience mostly scattered clouds …”

Egan was going nuts. He felt trapped.

“… if the primary winds come from the southeast scattered thunderstorms and showers with bases of 3000 to 4000 feet will develop over the operational area by mid-afternoon …”

Egan looked at Brooks. Brooks seemed to be listening intently. Egan squeezed his hands into fists.

“… fog, rain and clouds will characterize the early morning weather and may preclude employment of close tactical air support. Visibility in the afternoon will be sharply reduced by a combination of natural haze and flying into the sun.”

Rufus Brooks heard only portions of the weather briefing although he made a conscious effort to pay attention. His thoughts distracted him. The buck sergeant sat down and the second lieutenant introduced Major Homer J. Walker, Third Brigade Intelligence Officer, to recount recent activity and to establish an intelligence basis for the operation.

Major Walker seemed the absent-minded scientist who finds briefing his colleagues on his work a distraction from the work itself. He spoke laconically into the papers he held on the podium. “Ah … in the past several months … as I'm sure you're all aware … enemy activity in our western AO has increased significantly. Let me, ah, recount, ah,” the major shuffled pages of notes, “ah, some of the activity. The NVA apparently is trying to muster an offensive up here in response to the recent Cambodian thrust. As you know that operation, for the American units involved, ah, ended 30 June. Screaming Eagles of the 3d of the 506th op-conned to the 4th Infantry Division participated in the areas around Prek Drang. Very successfully. Since then we have uncovered apparent build-ups both directly below the Demilitarized Zone and along the Laotian border. During the second and third weeks of July aircraft of the 2d of the 17th engaged an estimated 400 new enemy soldiers around Khe Sanh killing, ah,” the major fumbled in the pages again, “209 of them. Elements of the 3d of the 187th discovered a mass grave on 25 July by Ba Da at YD 295315. They observed numerous bodies but stopped the search and did not obtain a definitive body count because of the smell.

“Activity during the first eleven days of August has increased significantly along a frontal corridor from Firebases Airborne and Goodman in the south up through Maureen, Ripcord, O'Reilly, Jerome and Barnett. On 1 August, the 2d of the 17th killed ten enemy south of Firebase Jerome. Three kilometers north of Goodman the 3rd ARVN Regiment engaged an estimated …”

Neither Egan nor Brooks could sustain interest in the report.

“… killed and five 12.7mm machine guns captured … On 6 August D Troop 2
^nd
… the ARVN Hac Bao … Thirty-six cases AK-47 ammunition, one hundred 82mm mortar rounds and 15 rucksacks. The equipment was evacuated … Four 122mm rockets impacted in Hue City at an ARVN detention center killing 14 detainees and wounding 89 … On 9 August Fire-base O'Reilly … ARVN Regiment engaged and killed 11 NVA … vicinity of Firebase O'Reilly reported sighting 800 NVA on a ridgeline. In response to this sighting 26 tactical air strikes and 36 aerial rocket artillery sorties were expended in the target area …”

There was something significant, Brooks thought.

“… Three nights ago, Ranger Reconnaissance Team Quebec 16 reported spotting four 5-ton and five 21/2-ton trucks filled with troops coming up the road to Ta Laou at YD 091329. That road is indicated on your maps as a footpath. The reconnaissance team did not engage the enemy …”

Trucks to Ta Laou? Brooks asked. That's only ten klicks from where we're going.

“… Evans, 122mm rockets impacted in three locations about the base during the past week resulting in the destruction of one UH-1D helicopter … Remote area monitors have shown heavy activity in the area of your objectives. Magnetic and acoustic detectors indicate some movement of heavy equipment in the Khe Ta Laou valley. Our newest gadget, ah, the XM-3 Airborne Personnel Detector Device or People Sniffer, indicates a massing of human beings in the Khe Ta Laou valley.

“Captured documents and PW interrogations indicate the following units and strengths within the operational area: 7th NVA Front Headquarters, estimated strength 200; 812th NVA Regimental Headquarters, estimated strength unknown; 5th Infantry Battalion, 812th, estimated strength 600; and the NVA K-12 Transportation Battalion, estimated strength 200 …”

Would you like a shot at an enemy headquarters? Brooks thought of the GreenMan's question. He wouldn't. Not a Front-size headquarters?

“… Lastly, the Government of Vietnam National Elections are scheduled to be held 30 August. The number of VC/VCI related incidents against the local populace of Thua Thien Province has increased significantly from 38 in July to 23 in the first ten days of this month. There has been a slight increase in sabotage and assassination incidents and a significant increase reported for propaganda with indications the NVA may try to disrupt the elections.” The major looked up from the podium, glanced then nodded toward the Old Fox and returned to his seat.

Daniel Egan had nothing but contempt for the briefing officers. Shee-it. I've heard all this crap before. These guys with their little black boxes. One dink sits by a box with his cooking pots and walks back and forth and they got a whole regiment moving into a valley. Egan shifted his weight and with the movement his thoughts shifted, fell to his feet. Egan's feet were already sore from standing. If there is one thing of importance to an infantryman it is his feet. Egan caught himself listening to various portions of the briefing and criticizing everything he heard. His feet irritated him and the briefing made his feet hurt worse. During the meteorological section he cursed the irrelevance of the forecast. He had spent enough time in the mountains of northern I Corps to know that neither mountains nor weather nor commanders cared about or respected his feet. Fuckin rains in the mountains all the fuckin time. When it aint rainin it's so fuckin socked in ya can't get a bird in fer resupply half the time. Early morning showers! That man's got his head way up his ass. How come ever time we go out it's raining on our heads and soakin our feet? These poor feet. Took me all my R&R to get em clean and then they weren't really clean an that fucker's got the brass balls to say early morning fog and showers.

Once Egan's thoughts broke from the briefing, he relaxed. He allowed his thoughts to play in his mind. His eyes closed, then opened then closed almost all the way, open just far enough to allow a sliver of light to enter. A drop of saline solution filled the slit and the light passing through it was refracted into a blur rainbow. It pleased him. If he could only keep his eyelids perfectly still. Images formed in the wash of color. His eyes flinched. The minute images were lost, new ones formed. He forced the image into the shape of a girl, a young woman. The image was not clear. The harder he tried to focus the more his eyelids jumped. He lost the image. He took a deep breath, exhaled very slowly and thought of his girl back in the World.

He could not conjure up a picture of her but he could think the image in words and describe the way it should be or at least the way he thought it had been. There had been times when he could not think of anything or anyone else and yet there were times, months at a time, when he did not think of her at all. He had not seen her for almost two years. They wrote each other sporadically. He kept her letters in the ammo can at the base of his rucksack. Whenever he wrote it seemed a letter from her crossed his in the mail. They were very similar, yet they never seemed to be able to occupy the same space at the same time. Of all the people he had ever known it was for Stephanie he harbored the warmest feeling. Thoughts of her warmed his insides. She and only she had ever brought a warmth to his soul. Before her he'd felt an adolescent, a person only half-developed. With her he had been a man fulfilled. After her, without her now, there was a hunger, a craving for something else to bring out the fervor.

I love you, he whispered to her image. He heard himself say it in his mind. But it was just words now and there was no feeling attached to them. The warmth was not there. Perhaps it had been too long. Fuckin lady. Always on my mind. She comes up and I can't tune her out. Stephanie. Goddamn you, Stephanie. It aint fair. I gotta think of you all the fuckin time and I don't even know if you ever think of me. Women! They aint nothin but unhappiness.