Fallen Angels by Walter Dean Myers Page A

was spitting in Brunner’s coffee and stirring it up. Lobel smiled when he saw it, and turned away.
    “The VC are trying to get in position for the truce,” Captain Stewart said. “They’ll try to get into as good a position as they can and then negotiate to hold those positions.”
    “If the war is going to be over, they can have the whole damn country,” Peewee said. “I don’t want the sucker.”
    “That’s not why guys are out there humping, soldier.” The captain pulled out a pad and pen. “What’s your name?”
    “Gates, sir,” Peewee said. “That’s G-A-T — ”
    “I can spell, Private. Are you a cook, too?”
    Just then a guy came from HQ tent and called Stewart. Two more minutes, and everybody was running around except Lieutenant Carroll.
    “I think they want all the officers in the HQ tent,” I said.
    “They want me, they know where to reach me,” Carroll said. “Or they can just leave a message with my secretary.”
    There was a sadness about Lieutenant Carroll, something that you didn’t notice at first, but it was there just the same. Even when he made jokes it was there. I watched him walk toward his hooch.
    The choppers. They made a noise like the heartbeat of a machine gun as they came in. My stomach knotted for a second, and I told myself to relax. I had a feeling, a sense that something important was going to happen.
    “Alpha Company, let’s go!” Sergeant Simpson started yelling.
    Alpha Company started lining up. Sergeant Simpson started checking out our squad, making sure we had the right gear.
    “What’s up?” Lieutenant Carroll had to raise his voice to get over the noise of the choppers.
    “Charlie Company is pinned down over there,” Simpson said. “They were going to send some marines in to get them out but they sent the marines up to Khe Sanh. They expect some heavy stuff up there. They got reports ofbattalion-size movements.”
    “A battalion of VC?” Carroll looked at Simpson.
    “That’s what they said,” Simpson said.
    Lieutenant Carroll went off toward HQ tent.
    “Okay, you guys, this is what’s happening. The air force is gonna try to clear the LZ and then we’ll secure it. Third platoon’s responsibility is just to protect the left flank of the LZ. We move in and push out one hundred meters. First platoon will clear the area of hostiles along with second platoon. Fourth platoon gets the right flank. We shouldn’t have any problems unless the VC want to stand and fight a whole damn company.”
    “You hear anybody going out last night?” Peewee asked me.
    “Unh-uh.”
    “Then Charlie Company must have been out there all night,” he said.
    I hadn’t heard of any company going out at night before.
    Lieutenant Carroll came running back with another lieutenant. He spoke a few words to Sergeant Simpson and Simpson nodded.
    “Okay, you guys, make sure your pieces are on safety. Do that right now!”
    I ran my finger over the safety catch of my M-16. It was on.
    “I don’t want no rounds in the chamber until after we hit the area,” Simpson said. “We hit the ground, me and Lieutenant Carroll will mark off the squad assignments. And don’t go shooting at nothing until you see something to shoot at! Let’s go!”
    My legs felt heavy as I ran toward the chopper. Lieutenant Carroll was at the door, checking us in. I banged the shit out of my knee getting in. My bad knee, too.
    I looked at Peewee. There was a smear of blood across his face. Simpson noticed it, too.
    “What the hell happened to you?”
    “This dumb fucker hit me with his rifle,” Peewee jerked a thumb at Brunner. “Simple-ass farm boy!”
    “Shut your mouth!” Brunner came back.
    I had to grab Monaco to keep from falling toward the door as the chopper jerked into the air.
    “When we hit the zone, keep your distances! Don’t bunch up!” Lieutenant Carroll called out. “We shouldn’t get any resistance, especially at first. When we dig in, make sure you’re dug in behind