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To
each his own Good news bad news scenario, good
news is that the Captain survived the evening chow; bad news is we moved
out at first light. We entered deeper into the jungles around Cam Lo. As
ordered we formed skirmish lines that seemed to stretch hundreds of
yards to the left and right. Everything was copasetic during this sweep
‘til the brush got so thick you couldn’t spot the guy next to you.
Ears were fine-tuned and listening for the scraping of bush to
the point of bleeding. The last thing ya wanted was to be separated from
the line or even worse be heading in the wrong direction. Once in a
while as we forced our way into the undergrowth all ya could hear was
the knock of a gunstock and we would go down on one knee and wait with
rifles at the ready. Waiting was the hardest part cause if we were down
something was up. The thoughts that go ripping through yer mind during
these times was enough to scare the bejesus out of Jack The Ripper
himself. I think the mind has a nasty sense
of humor the way it does a body wrong. It isn’t bad enough stumbling
around deep in the shit and sweating bullets while at the same time
wishing the two-ounce mosquitoes would just airlift ya outta there. But
now every sound turned into a black pajama clad Viet Cong division
wanting to take your head off. Eyes darting frantically up, down, left
and right hoping someone friendly has got your back. Minutes seemed like
hours and then, Knock-knock we’re up again moving slow and steady into
the AO. I took a deep breath and let out a sigh of relief when I saw my
fellow sojourner again. I’d have hugged ‘em if it wouldn’t have
been bad etiquette; but they frowned on that sort of thing then and it
was a good way to get shot by friendly fire. Marines were a tight unit
but a Nod of the head and the full bird salute went just as far, if ya
know what I mean. We plundered our way deeper and
deeper into boonies stopping every once in a while ‘til the order was
given again given to move out. Knock-Knock! Who’s There? Joe..! Joe
who…? Joe mamma, Joe daddy and Joe whole Damn family. Too much time on
my hands. The bush was starting to thin out a bit and was similar to
walking into a forest more that a jungle. Kind of reminded me of some of
the woods around Vermont that I used to go hunting in. Ya could actually
see blue-sky opening up above the canopy, which lulled me into a false
sense of security and peace. Decent trees, green patches of ground,
woodsy smell which was a whole helluva lot better than the fish heads
and rice we were smelling last night. Thinking about that tree stand in
the Autumn of the year, drifting into la-la-land full boar when a shot
rang out from nowhere whistling through paradise. Now either Deer have evolved into
hunting machines with the superb ability to camouflage and snipe or I
really was in Vietnam fighting a war. Seeing no antlers in the trees I
succumbed to the reality that there was a sniper in the vicinity. The
Line went down to the prone position and we waited. See what dreaming
does for ya, here I go again having to kick myself in the buttocks. Live
and learn hell! Another shot rang out zipping through the trees above
us. Silence broken once again and our hearts were pounding inside our
heads like jackhammers gone postal. Uncomfortable as this may seem it
abso-fucken-lutely has a way of awakening your senses to maximum
efficiency. We waited. No telling where the sniper was. We had been
fortunate so far as no casualties were reported down the line. One squad
was getting a fix on the general vicinity; still everyone was edgy as
hell. I cant begin to explain to you what it feels like to be shot at
and being helpless as a fish out of water. No one dared to move and I think
some even stopped breathing for fear of exposing themselves to the
sniper. Talk about white as a ghost, hell some of ‘em including myself
were white as a haint and, a couple of ‘em were Soul Brothers. Laugh
if ya want but I was only four months into the Nam and finding out that
life’s experiences are starting to suck big-time. Crack! Another shot
rips through the silence but this time the squad of Marines stood up and
started tearing the shit out of the tree tops with M-14s, M-79’s and
an M-60. All hell was breaking loose and all you could see was branches
and foliage dancing in the distance. Puff the Magic Dragon had nothing
over on these bad sumbitches and they were giving it all they had for
what seemed like 15 minutes of pure firepower. Silence again. Smoke
filled the air, some scurrying around by the powers that be. Nothing
moved. No more sniper shots rang out for 30 minutes. I figure that
sniper was duly impressed with our massive display of treetop trimming
technology or, he couldn’t believe the balls these guys had and the
sniper Di Di’d while he still had his. Course there was an outside
chance that the sniper died of lead poisoning or worse. Either way this
learning curb was over and we moved on looking for a place to set up a
perimeter defense before darkness set in. By the way, remember that helpless a fish outta water line I gave ya a while ago? Well it hit home like a ton of bricks, cause I reckon that’s the way Bambi feels when wandering through the woods and some one with a 306 drops ‘em like a bad habit from 20’ in the air. Been hunting a couple of times since I’ve been back to the world and I used to sport a bumper sticker that said..” I love animals, they taste good ”… But I take no pleasure in it anymore. I’m not a Bambi hugger and If ya hunt for food that’s one thing, Killing for the hell of its another. To each his own. |