silence. There would be plenty of time to ask questions when they got back inside of
the battalion’s perimeter.
James noticed that there were only seven men in the squad counting the sergeant, which was normal for Vietnam units, considering
that men were constantly going on R and R and sick call from the field; most infantry companies operated about thirty percent
short.
The cracking sound of the first AK-47 dropped the squad down on the ground. A barrage of small-arms fire followed. The American
squad maneuvered quickly on their stomachs and formed a skirmish line to return fire. James dropped down on one knee and shot
the soldier nearest to him. He killed two more before the NCO turned around and saw him.
“You motherfucking—” The sergeant died before he could finish the sentence.
James pulled the bright red bandana from his pocket and tied it around his forehead as the prearranged signal to the NVA troops
that he was one of them. A soft sound caught James’s attention through the din of gunfire, and he looked in the direction
it had come from. A black soldier, the only black assigned to the sergeant’s squad, was crawling toward the battalion perimeter.
James lowered his CAR-15 and hesitated. He let the weapon hang from its sling and ran to catch up to the man.
“Where in the fuck are you going?” James dropped down on his knees next to the soldier.
“Back to the perimeter to get some help.… Man, there’s hundreds of fucking gooks out there!” The soldier was afraid, but not
terrified.
“Did you see anything?” James’s voice was threatening.
“Yeah, man!
Gooks!
Now let go of my fucking arm!” The soldier pulled free from James’s grip.
“Good… You go back to battalion for help, and I’m going to check and see if we have any wounded.”
The black soldier looked at James as if he had flipped his lid. “Fucking fine with me!”
James watched the soldier crawl for another ten meters and then jump to his feet and start running. He should have killed
him too, but killing black brothers wasn’t why he had joined up with the NVA.
The black soldier ran toward his company’s portion of the perimeter, where the guards had been alerted and knew that one of
their rifle squads would be coming through from the night ambush. The soldier felt his back muscles tighten as he anticipated
the bullets from James’s CAR-15. He had seen James kill the sergeant and two more of his squad in cold blood.
“Halt!”
The challenge came from a log-roofed fighting bunker on the side of a slight rise in the jungle floor.
“Barker! Second squad! Coming through!”
The black soldier didn’t slow down his stride and flipped into the closest foxhole he could find. “NVA!
Hundreds of them
!”
An M-60 light machine gun started barking a couple of holes down from the black soldier, and then a claymore detonated a few
meters away before the familiar cracking from NVA AK-47s answered them.
The platoon leader slid into Barker’s foxhole, followed by his radio operator. “What’s out there, Barker?”
“Man, sir… you aren’t going to fucking believe this shit!” Barker took a deep breath and quickly told the lieutenant what
had happened to his squad.
* * *
The land-line telephone rang in Lieutenant Van Pao’s office twice before she answered the call. It was the division’s intelligence
officer. He informed her that he would be visiting her camp in two days, and he wanted to personally interrogate the young
American POW who was causing her so much trouble. The division commander wanted to know where the secret sensors were located,
and he wanted the information before they started their big push into the A Shau Valley the following week.
She was in a very bad mood when James entered her office wearing NVA pants and shirt.
“How do you like my new belt, Lieutenant?” James grabbed the gold belt buckle with the red star centered in it and tilted
the shiny
the battalion’s perimeter.
James noticed that there were only seven men in the squad counting the sergeant, which was normal for Vietnam units, considering
that men were constantly going on R and R and sick call from the field; most infantry companies operated about thirty percent
short.
The cracking sound of the first AK-47 dropped the squad down on the ground. A barrage of small-arms fire followed. The American
squad maneuvered quickly on their stomachs and formed a skirmish line to return fire. James dropped down on one knee and shot
the soldier nearest to him. He killed two more before the NCO turned around and saw him.
“You motherfucking—” The sergeant died before he could finish the sentence.
James pulled the bright red bandana from his pocket and tied it around his forehead as the prearranged signal to the NVA troops
that he was one of them. A soft sound caught James’s attention through the din of gunfire, and he looked in the direction
it had come from. A black soldier, the only black assigned to the sergeant’s squad, was crawling toward the battalion perimeter.
James lowered his CAR-15 and hesitated. He let the weapon hang from its sling and ran to catch up to the man.
“Where in the fuck are you going?” James dropped down on his knees next to the soldier.
“Back to the perimeter to get some help.… Man, there’s hundreds of fucking gooks out there!” The soldier was afraid, but not
terrified.
“Did you see anything?” James’s voice was threatening.
“Yeah, man!
Gooks!
Now let go of my fucking arm!” The soldier pulled free from James’s grip.
“Good… You go back to battalion for help, and I’m going to check and see if we have any wounded.”
The black soldier looked at James as if he had flipped his lid. “Fucking fine with me!”
James watched the soldier crawl for another ten meters and then jump to his feet and start running. He should have killed
him too, but killing black brothers wasn’t why he had joined up with the NVA.
The black soldier ran toward his company’s portion of the perimeter, where the guards had been alerted and knew that one of
their rifle squads would be coming through from the night ambush. The soldier felt his back muscles tighten as he anticipated
the bullets from James’s CAR-15. He had seen James kill the sergeant and two more of his squad in cold blood.
“Halt!”
The challenge came from a log-roofed fighting bunker on the side of a slight rise in the jungle floor.
“Barker! Second squad! Coming through!”
The black soldier didn’t slow down his stride and flipped into the closest foxhole he could find. “NVA!
Hundreds of them
!”
An M-60 light machine gun started barking a couple of holes down from the black soldier, and then a claymore detonated a few
meters away before the familiar cracking from NVA AK-47s answered them.
The platoon leader slid into Barker’s foxhole, followed by his radio operator. “What’s out there, Barker?”
“Man, sir… you aren’t going to fucking believe this shit!” Barker took a deep breath and quickly told the lieutenant what
had happened to his squad.
* * *
The land-line telephone rang in Lieutenant Van Pao’s office twice before she answered the call. It was the division’s intelligence
officer. He informed her that he would be visiting her camp in two days, and he wanted to personally interrogate the young
American POW who was causing her so much trouble. The division commander wanted to know where the secret sensors were located,
and he wanted the information before they started their big push into the A Shau Valley the following week.
She was in a very bad mood when James entered her office wearing NVA pants and shirt.
“How do you like my new belt, Lieutenant?” James grabbed the gold belt buckle with the red star centered in it and tilted
the shiny
Similar Books
