Entrepreneurs

Snap, Snap, Snap, carbine rounds inbound, along with the thumping of mortars. My guess is Charley barrel rolled out of his hammock and landed on his black clad ass. Ya can hear em yelling and scurrying around blowing their whistles in the darkness.  Whoomp, whoomp and ground explodes all around us. The center of camp is glowing and we get ready for the worst. A twist of the wrist and claymores answer back while the sixty’s fire tracers into the woods surrounding us. We shoot randomly into the tree line trying to draw fire, hoping to see a flash, which would help us locate their positions. Odd thing is that system works both ways.

It remains black as hell out here and so far nothing catches the eye. 

The Sergeant is making his way round the perimeter trying to get the skinny on the situation.  He says “ Don’t know how many, or where they are but you can relax cause we know for sure their in front of us”. That’s fucking reassuring for sure Sergeant. Guess we gottem where we want em now eh? Fucking lifers are all alike. Hope I get extra shit paper in the rations tomorrow cause I’m gonna be needing it. The guy next to me is shaking like a leaf and his helmet is knocking against his rifle stock like a woodpecker in heat. I whispered to him, “ lest ya want ta get your melon split ya better get a grip on yourself, You’re tapping out our coordinates to the dinks”. He replies and says “ sorry bout that man but I’m scared shitless “. I mumbled “ I wish that were my problem right now, being shitless I mean”.  It’ll be all right bud, their shooting blind, and its just another night in the toolies. Keep your eyes ‘n ears open, if they decide to visit there won’t be any doubt about who, what and where they will be coming from.

Come to think of it I have never had a problem being scared, I’ve been scared since I got to this place called Nam. Its reputation preceded itself. I’ve heard of the dangers and the sadistic nature of the VC. Sneaky little bastards and of course it don’t help that they all look alike neither. We walk through the villages tossing them token offerings of ham and motherfuckers and they wave and smile making you feel like you are the liberators of Rome. Pretending to be all friendly and polite while bowing humbly in your presence. Then they break out into free capitalistic enterprise by trying to sell you a six-ounce American made Coca-cola for fifty cents. We can’t get Coke in Phubai but out here in Timbuk-fucking-Tu the peasant entrepreneurs always seem to have an abundance of shit for sale that we grew up with in the States. Go fucking figure. We smoke stale 1945 four packs of lucky strikes while they puff on a fresh twenty pack of Marlboro cigarettes.

As we pass on through and out of sight we get the universal one fingered salute and then they go to digging up their Chinese SKS rifles, Russian grenades, and dog us like a coonhounds on a blood trail. I get the distinct impression that no unit travels anywhere unbeknownst to the Viet Cong. In my mind these dinks and dinkettes are all in cahoots with each other anyway. They do vary in sizes and shapes these people; from chubby four foot six Koreans to six-foot muscle bound Chinese. Depends on what country supply’s em with reinforcements. Those I’ve seen out in the bush all had one thing in common. Death.

Alls quiet again and the perimeter is secure for the moment. I gotta hand it to Charley cause he knows how to play the mind games. He knows just when to hit and just when to run. Constantly keeping us all on edge. Since we’ve been in the bush this time I’d say we get an average of two hours sleep a night because of his constant bullshit. We see shit that isn’t real and we ignore shit that is real cause we’re too tired to focus. The more ya concentrate in the darkness the more the eyes play games with your head. Hell I’ve watched a tree trunk do the boogaloo in the moonlight cause I thought it was someone moving inch by inch towards us. Wonderful thing the imagination. On the other hand I’ve seen elephant grass get up and run like hell towards us in the dead of night screaming like a pack drugged out Banshees. Life in the boonies is cruel to say the least and when the jungle decides to move in, ya had best be prepared to react to it. Second chances are slim and none when it comes time to shit or git.

Suns creeping up and it’s real good to see the light of day. Not sure which direction or where we will be going today but I’ll bet Charley does. We’ll be moving out soon, remind me to pick up a map from one of the locals.

I wonder if they had a midnight sale on hammocks last night on the Ho Chi Minh trail,

don’t see any still hanging in the trees or the dinks that filled ‘em either for that matter.

Amazing shit ain’t it?

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