Friday, May 30, 2014

Story 1 Ambush

Story 1     Ambush
   
    Carson, L.  25th Infantry Div. '66-'67

    "We had a great kill zone and good concealment.  All we had to do was lay and wait in this old graveyard beside the ruins of this Buddhist temple. It was all covered with vines and shit and the roof was missing.  It was so very quite, well, except for the huge-assed firefight raging across the river.  Charlie and Alpha Company were really throwing down.
    Then we heard them coming.  Little sounds people make when they move through the jungle, especially if they’re tired; twigs snapping, leaves brushing against arms, packs, weapons and things and the underlying sound of labored breathing. The NVA point man appeared at the end of the trail and moved smartly into the area near the temple where there was less forestation.  He was tired.  You could tell because he didn’t look around. Hell, he didn’t even look up; he just kept humping.  Five seconds behind him was the rest of the squad, twelve of them all together.  We watched them move into the kill zone.  Shit, most were just kids, just like us. Then Sarge popped the claymores and the party started.  Like usual it immediately became a slow motion dance macabre as the adrenaline kicked in.  Twitching and convulsing; erupting blood; grasping, reaching for anything; slipping to their knees or thrown to their backs.  Maybe some cried out, but we didn’t hear it, what with steady firepower we poured into their flesh, through their bones.  Then it was over - the quiet rang in our ears.  And there was that smell.  When I get real freaked, even today, more than forty years later, I can smell it.  The smell of blood and gunpowder. There is nothing like it, not even the smell of freebase. I knew then that I was in deep shit and if I was unfortunate enough to make it back to the world that I was going to be one hurtin’ son-of-a-bitch for the rest of my time.  So, I stood there in the middle of this killing field and laughed.  I took out my knife and gave the coup de grace to this badly wounded kid who kept staring at me while trying to hold his guts in with his hands.  I think, I hope, he would have done the same for me."
    He stood, sort of smiled, glanced around my office at the pictures and degrees on the wall, then stretched and said,  "Okay, doc, I've got to get to the community meeting.  See you tomorrow, same time?"  He stepped into the doorway, looked both ways and sidled away.