The Vietnam Reader (68 page)

At frequent intervals were thickets of bamboo. Varying from small clumps to patches thirty meters in diameter, their six-inch-thick stalks
were impossible to cut through. The inevitable zigzagging around them made navigation difficult.

At least thirst was not the problem it had been in the Delta. Fresh streams of fairly clear water ran at frequent intervals. A purification tablet per canteen made it bitter but safe. Some of the soldiers added packets of Kool Aid to make the water more palatable.

24 June 1969
Tuesday

Continue mission
Today we airmobiled to help out Alpha in contact—Had an
NVA Regiment on a hill—By the time we got there NVA had left

We were in thick jungle when the radio crackled with Alpha Company’s contact followed by Battalion’s ordering us to the nearest pick up zone (PZ). Moving as quickly as possible, we still were nearly an hour covering the short kilometer to the PZ.

No sooner had we reached the clearing than the slicks came over the horizon. Their blade noise changed to a distinctive whoop-whoop as they turned toward us. Our loading was SOP as groups of six men sped down the open area with no group containing more than one M-60 or radio. Leaders were careful to get on different choppers. If a bird went down, we did not want to lose a group of critical weapons or leaders.

The flight of eight helicopters carried half the company at a time. Blood was up and running hot. As we jumped from the skids, the men were shouting so loudly that I could hear them over the rotors. Charlie Company wanted part of the action.

When we learned the NVA had broken contact, we were disappointed—and somewhat relieved. Alpha lost one killed, the dinks four. After hearing reports of the fire fight, it was evident that the first word, about a regiment-sized enemy, had been greatly exaggerated.

25 June 1969
Wednesday

Continue mission

After it was determined that the NVA were no longer in the area, CPT MeGinnis received orders for Charlie Company to conduct a reconnaissance in force (RIF) to the south.

Our movement halted about an hour before dusk. The lead platoon leader selected a site for the night defensive position (NDP) and the platoons occupied their sectors based on a clock system. The direction of movement was considered twelve o’clock. From twelve to three was the lead platoon sector, from nine to twelve the next platoon, then from three to six and from six to nine the remaining platoon. The company CP set up near the center of the circle.

Because of thick jungle, the perimeter often was more oval than circular. Claymore mines, trip illumination flares and intersecting fields of machine gun fire were the first priorities. Half of the men remained on alert while the others worked. Trails or other likely avenues of approach were covered by sending out three-man observation/listening posts. Depending on the situation, they might stay in the positions all night or return to the perimeter just before dark.

LT Jong called in nightly artillery defensive concentrations. Marking rounds of aerial smoke bursts were always fired before shooting the high-explosive steel.

We dug holes deep enough to protect a prone man and stacked sandbags and logs for added protection. Then we stretched ponchos on sticks about eighteen inches above the ground with the ends either staked with more sticks or tied to trees or logs with extra boot laces.

The makeshift poncho tents were strictly for sleeping. Soldiers on alert sat outside the poncho hooch so they could hear without the distraction of the rain pelting the fabric.

We slept directly on the ground. The men carried air mattresses but used them only at the fire bases. In the boonies, the soldiers’ rolling over on the air-filled pads made too much noise.

After the NDP was completely established, platoon leaders checked
their sectors. McGinnis usually made a brief tour, stopping to visit with the grunts as he made his round.

It was now time to eat. A few of the soldiers ate three full meals a day, but the combination of the heat and the monotony of C-rations made most of us rarely hungry.

I usually ate most of a complete C-ration in the evening. After stand-to the next morning, a cup of coffee brewed in an empty C-ration cracker can was breakfast. At noon a can of fruit, a pound cake or pecan nut roll was all I wanted in the heat.

26 June 1969
Thursday

Jungle

After moving all day we were ready to set up NDP—2nd plt on point heard gook voices—My plt set up a block in a creek and 2nd moved in—After a brief fire fight we withdrew—Called in arty and set up for night

One man wounded—Shot through mouth—Had to use hook on chopper to raise him out of jungle

On the battlefield, skill and experience are critical, but at times luck is the deciding factor. If we had halted a few hundred meters earlier, we would not have heard the enemies’ voices. If we had not been moving with stealth, they would have escaped or ambushed us, but not all the luck was on our side. Darkness was approaching and we had to make our attack quickly.

McGinnis assembled the platoon leaders, ordering the third platoon to remain on our small hill to secure our rucksacks so we could move in unencumbered. The fourth platoon was to establish a blocking position on a hill two hundred meters to our left. My platoon was to move down a small stream to our right while Little’s second platoon proceeded directly toward the voices. Jong plotted artillery to seal off the far side.

About two hundred meters down the stream a trail led from the far side to the water. On the bank a pair of wet black pajama trousers was
still dripping. Apparently, a gook doing his laundry had heard our approach.

Just as I called McGinnis to inform him we had been detected, the second platoon opened fire about 150 meters to our left. By the sound of the barrage, they were firing every weapon they had. We could not directly see the enemy through the thick foliage, but we directed our fire at the reports of the AK47s.

As the gooks’ fire diminished we pushed up the trail. I had never seen Tom scared. He was shaking so hard that we could barely understand him as he said, “Beaucoup NVA! Beaucoup NVA!”

Artillery was now blasting the jungle. Jong brought it to within a hundred meters of us. Fire from the gooks diminished to sporadic shots by a weapon none of us could identify.

Though it was now completely dark, we all wanted to sweep through the gook camp. McGinnis’ order to return to the secured hill was a good one; however, as in the darkness, we might have fought each other rather than the dinks.

Sassner guided each platoon into sector. Little’s platoon was the last to return, his medic half-carrying a rifleman who had taken a round through the lower face. Apparently the soldier had his mouth open when the bullet entered. Its exit took out some teeth and a part of the jaw and cheek. He was bleeding heavily.

McGinnis had already called in a dust off while Sassner had secured a bomb crater inside the perimeter that provided enough clearance for the chopper to drop a hook-sling for the casualty.

We began to dig in. DeForrest and I soon discovered that in the darkness we were sharing our position with a large bed of black ants. We withdrew without a fight. The huge ants left red welts from their bites.

Jong continued artillery off and on throughout the night to prevent the gooks’ returning to remove bodies or equipment. Some of Little’s men reported fighting their way to the edge of bunkers before withdrawing. My platoon had made it far enough for us to see what appeared to be low, thatched hooches.

During the long night I decided not to return to BMB as Hawkins’ temporary replacement. I did not want to leave my platoon. McGinnis
agreed while rejecting my recommendation that Sassner go instead. He needed us all in the field.

27 June 1969
Friday

Moved into contact area—Search found:
7 large bunkers
9 hooches
1 cook shack
2 bodies—1 male 1 female—KIA
100 lbs. of various clothing & boots
55 lbs. of rice
1 printing press 1 typewriter
3 large bags of documents—(Later found to have secret info—Also names and addresses of VC supporters in area)
Much cooking equipment
Sewing gear
1 SKS with ammo
1 US M-2 carbine ammo
Misc ammo & misc equipment
$160 in VC money—Found by me—Split among 1st plt Medicine—Much

At daylight we went back into the contact area following the same plan as the previous evening. Just beyond the point where we had halted the attack was a latrine and wash area. A few meters later we came to the bunkers. Some had tables built on top, covered with thatched roofs supported by bamboo poles.

Another hut protected a cooking area where a large pot of now burnt rice sat on dying embers. Next to the cook shack lay a dead gook wearing only shorts, sandals and a covering of flies. An SKS rifle was a few feet away.

The body had been hit many times. DeForrest and I noticed a small sack tied around the body’s waist at about the same time. We cut the bloody canvas strap and found the roll of South Vietnamese
piasters. The paper bills, called “Ps,” would buy the platoon beer for awhile.

On the other side of the bunker complex, Little’s platoon discovered the source of the odd sounding weapon we had heard the night before. The M-2 carbine lay next to a dead young woman. She was far too bloated for her enlargement to have been the result of the heat. We wondered why a pregnant woman had stayed, fought and died while others were escaping. We joked that the woman and unborn child should count as two bodies. No one expressed any regret about killing her. She had the opportunity to do the same to us. In fact, she had tried very hard to do so.

After the entire complex was secured, we began a more detailed search. Several blood trails led into the jungle between the fourth platoon’s blocking position and the artillery barrage. More blood and bandages showed we had killed at least five or six more. We claimed only the two we had weapons in hand for. The others were reported as probable kills.

We ignored the dink bodies after we searched them. Tom, DeForrest and I had our CP within five meters of the male gook. We heated water for coffee and ate our lunch as we discussed how quickly the maggots had begun their work.

The other gooks had escaped with little but their lives. Eating utensils were still on the table. Packs, ammo and food were neatly stacked in nearly every bunker. Rice was in bags and long sack-like cylinders. Tom showed us how these containers could be easily carried around the neck like a loose scarf. We cut open the containers and poured the grain in the creek and the latrine. Equipment and clothing we burnt. Ammo, documents and the small printing press was carried to an LZ a couple of klicks away for transfer to the S-2.

The typewriter contained an unfinished report. Intelligence later sent us an interpretation that said the report was from the commander of the camp, saying new US units were operating in his area. He wrote we would not venture far enough into the jungle to find his headquarters. He had been wrong.

Other documents revealed that we had found a rest area for the
274th NVA Regiment which was composed of NVA and a consolidation of local VC. We presumed the woman was with the latter.

We burned the hooches. They had been camouflaged so well under the triple canopy that they were impossible to spot from the air. From the ground we had to be within ten meters to make out their barest outline.

The two weapons were awarded to the second platoon. They had made the initial contact and had been in the thickest of the fighting. There were sufficient souvenirs for all. McGinnis kept the Vietnamese typewriter because his wife taught high school typing classes back in North Carolina.

We also found several diaries. Neatly drawn pictures of people and animals along with poems adorned the pages. We wanted to keep them but sent them to the S-2 because they might contain some intel value.

In the late afternoon we moved to the LZ from which the documents had been extracted. We felt better setting up our NDP in a place the enemy did not know as well as their camp.

Spirits were high. We had done significant damage to the enemy while only taking one WIA. We had surprised and defeated the enemy on his own turf.

My letter to Linda briefly described the fight. I also asked her if she had any ideas for baby names. Although I had promised her I would give her full details about events in my life, I did not include anything about the rotting body of the pregnant woman we had left in the jungle camp.

        10        
Masterwork

July 1967. Infantryman, Camp Warrior, Pleiku Province.

Tim O’Brien’s
The Things They Carried
(1990) is subtitled not a novel or a collection of stories, but “A Work of Fiction.” It’s dedicated to the fictional men of Alpha company who inhabit the book, and the epigraph from John Ransom’s
Andersonville Diary
is telling: