Cherries - A Vietnam War Novel - Revised Edition

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Cherries - A Vietnam War Novel - Revised Edition Page 29

by Podlaski, John


  “I found the missing squad!” John shouted. “They’re all over here!”

  The search parties exited the jungle and jogged up the trail toward John. Sixpack was the first to arrive.

  The first man they came upon was lying on his poncho. A deep slice across his throat from ear to ear nearly severed his head. The once green camouflage liner, still covering the man, had turned a shade of dark burgundy, almost black. The second, third, and fourth men were all found the same way. When they approached the last man, John dropped his rifle to the ground as he recognized the corpse of Bill Sayers. He was not lying on the ground and covered with a bloody poncho liner. Instead, he sat on the ground, propped against a tree. His eyes were wide with surprise, and his mouth hung open as if he were trying to call for help. The handle of his own Bowie knife was sticking out of his chest, surrounded by a crust of dried blood.

  “God, no! Not Bill! Please don’t let it be!”

  Sixpack placed his hands on John’s shoulders. “Easy, Polack. We’re too late to help them. There’s nothing we can do for Bill and the others.”

  “Oh, my God!”

  Sixpack summoned Frenchie and Wild Bill. “Take Polack off to the side and keep him quiet.”

  John’s mind went blank and he seemed to fall into a semi-comatose state. He sat quietly with the two men while Sgt. Holmes reported their findings back to the company CP.

  During the discovery, the remaining two squads had emerged from the jungle and converged on the ambush site. The squad from the Third Platoon had a hard time accepting that their L-T and four other close friends were dead. They shed tears, offered prayers, and gave condolences all around.

  The four Squads formed a defensive perimeter around the ambush sight so choppers could evacuate the dead soldiers. Not much remained aside from the bodies, as the enemy had taken their weapons, ammo, rucksacks, and radio.

  Sixpack walked over to the three soldiers sitting together to the side of the trail. “How’s the Polack doing?”

  “He hasn’t said a word since we’ve been sitting here with him.”

  Sixpack got on a knee and put a hand on John’s shoulder. “Polack, talk to me! You okay?”

  He blinked several times in an attempt to hold back tears and then looked into Sixpack’s eyes. “I’ll be all right.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m alright. I’m sure it would have been different if I’d heard about his death, but actually being the first to see him did a job on me.”

  “I know you guys were very close. I’m sorry though, but you have to let it go. Bill’s not going to be the last friend of yours that’s going to die in this war. There will be others, so you have to learn how to block out the emotions and live with the hurt, otherwise you’ll drive yourself crazy.”

  Frenchie and Will Bill nodded in agreement.

  “Hang tough, Polack. Be happy you're still alive.”

  “Anybody figure out what happened to them?”

  “The consensus is that a Squad of sappers took them out. This wasn’t a coincidence. I bet they were followed and then watched while getting into position and setting the mechanical ambush. Some of us believe they took the blasting cap out and either forgot about it or were in a rush to get away. They took everything else and we can’t figure why they didn’t take the claymores.”

  “So they didn’t even have a chance to fight back, did they?”

  “Doesn’t look like it. Looks like Bill was on guard duty and had the radio, so he had to be the first to go. They probably came up from behind to get him out of the way and then killed the others while they were asleep.”

  “Can somebody really be that quiet?”

  “Sappers are the best and are very patient. They crawl through the barbwire, disconnect claymore’s and trip flares, and enter firebases during the middle of the night. Once inside, they remain invisible and usually try to blow up command bunkers. Most of them are good enough to escape afterwards without being seen.”

  At that moment, the lead element of the Third Platoon exited the jungle not far from the ambush sight. They wanted to investigate the area and take care of the bodies themselves.

  Seeing this, Sixpack stood and turned to go meet with them. Before leaving, he stopped and spoke to John, “I promise you this: we will get even for what has happened here. Mark my words.” He then moved quickly to join up with the staff sergeant who was leading the column of Third Platoon soldiers.

  The First Squad approached and gathered around the three men sitting on the ground. Doc was the last to arrive.

  “Polack, you’ve been through a terrible shock. If you want, I can send you to the rear and arrange for the Battalion Aid station to give you something to help you through this ordeal. Just say the word.”

  “That’s alright, Doc. I want to stay out here with the rest of my friends and make those guys pay for what they did to Bill.”

  “Now hold on. If you start thinking like that, you’ll be the next one killed around here.”

  “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m not trying to be John Wayne.”

  “No problem, then?”

  “No problem, scout’s honor.” He raised his right hand showing three fingers of the traditional Boy Scout salute.

  Since it was so close to Christmas, John wondered if the Army would wait until after the holidays to notify Bill’s family. If not, it would certainly be the worst Christmas of their lives, and he hoped they would pull through it okay. He could not even imagine the pain they would soon be experiencing.

  He thought about his own family and wondered how they might react to the news if he died. It would probably kill both of his parents, who had already lost most of their families during World War II.

  It finally hit him that he too, would be dead if the mechanical he tripped earlier in the day was armed. John looked up to the sky and made the sign of the cross, thanking God for the extra chance.

  Battalion canceled Alpha’s trip into Cu Chi to see Bob Hope. Instead, the men were to remain in the bush and find those responsible for the killings. If anyone felt disappointed, they were not showing it - it was something they would have volunteered to do anyway.

  A countrywide cease-fire was in effect on Christmas Day, and both sides stopped fighting to celebrate the holiday. Alpha Company settled into the jungle next to a large clearing and would remain in place for the next two days.

  Two choppers landed during the company resupply. The second was loaded with hot food canisters and ice-cold sodas. Battalion cooks arrived to feed the troops with a meal similar to the one they enjoyed on Thanksgiving Day, but this time the dining room was the jungle floor and there were no fancy decorations.

  It was a lazy day and most of the men listened to the Bob Hope Christmas Show on their radios. Some sat together in small groups to share in the laughter as Bob joked about the government and politics. Sometimes it was difficult to hear the female guests speak or sing as the cheering and catcalls from the audience drowned them out. Miss America was a big hit; they pictured her standing there on the stage in her bathing suit and sash. The soldiers thoroughly enjoyed the radio show, although listening to the American humor was also a bittersweet experience for the young men. Waves of homesickness washed over them as they recalled past Christmases spent with their families or girlfriends. Nevertheless, the entertainment was a distraction from the reasons why they were there – if only for one day.

  When the cease-fire ended, the grunts got serious again, and packed away all paperback books, radios, and cards deep into their rucksacks. They were ready to avenge the deaths of their brothers.

  ~~~~~

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The cease-fire came and went without incident. The Stars and Stripes newspapers reported, however, that the Communists had numerous violations throughout the country.

  In Alpha Company’s AO, the grunts had a feeling that the enemy was well aware that a witch-hunt was underway and remained out of sight. The sensation co
ntinued for the entire week after Christmas.

  On New Year’s Day, 1971, the company received word that Delta Company was engaged in heavy fighting and needed help. Alpha was the closest unit, and helicopters were already en route to pick up the reinforcements.

  Delta Company had been working in a banana plantation for most of the past week, and that morning a patrol member tripped a vicious booby trap while going up a hill. The buried 105mm artillery round exploded and sent shrapnel in many directions; three soldiers died and four were critically wounded.

  Unaware of a well-camouflaged base camp at the top of the hill, Delta Company remained in position and waited patiently for the Medevac helicopters.

  When two finally landed on a plateau, fellow soldiers rushed the dead and wounded onto the waiting birds. However, before the Hueys had a chance to lift off, the enemy surprised everyone by opening up on them from the top of the hill. The enemy concentrated their heavy automatic fire and RPG’s on the two helicopters. The first chopper carrying the wounded soldiers managed to avoid major damage and escaped the ambush. The second bird also managed to lift off, but returned to the ground, trailing thick black smoke after sustaining several hits to the engine. Luckily, the pilot was able to land and power down behind a small hillock three-hundred yards away.

  The ambush and heavy gunfire scattered many of the company soldiers who retreated downhill. As a result, many were without their gear and extra ammunition. In their haste to reach safety, they left all equipment behind.

  When regrouping at the base of the hill, the Delta Commander requested an artillery fire mission targeting the summit. This afforded him an opportunity to assess the threat and formulate an attack plan.

  During the barrage, dozens of soldiers tried inching their way up the hill to retrieve the left-behind gear. They managed to reach the general area, but then came under intense fire once again, forcing them back downhill for a second time. Fortunately, they secured a third of the gear.

  The artillery rounds did not seem to be affecting the attackers - their rate of fire was still as aggressive as at the onset. The captain terminated the barrage and then requested a squadron of Huey Gunships and Cobras to help relieve the pressure. Knowing the VC were well dug-in, rockets and mini-guns could focus on those reinforced areas; a lull in the firing would provide the grunts with another opportunity for an assault. This time they were successful and gained a foothold halfway up the hill - returning fire, but not able to advance any further. The summit was just three hundred feet away, but the gunships had exhausted their armaments and left the battle to re-arm. Another push to the top would have to wait until they returned.

  While the exchange of gunfire continued, several volunteers took it upon themselves to go and look for their wounded brothers and other survivors along the hillside. They successfully located a dozen critically injured soldiers and dragged them to the bottom of the hill, where the medics began treating the men. The fact that only five American soldiers had died in this battle thus far was surprising and encouraging.

  Medevac choppers made repeated attempts to land and pull out more of the wounded, but the firing of heavy weapons kept them away. Thankfully, the injured were holding up. If not, it would have been deadly to try to carry them through the kill zone to an area where the choppers could land.

  The gunships returned after thirty minutes and pounded the hilltop again. Confident the protective shield would suffice, Medevac choppers tried once again to land near the wounded.

  The enemy's heavy weapon fire subsided when the Cobra rockets finally succeeded in destroying some of the reinforced bunkers; the unarmed medical choppers began landing and collecting the wounded. When lifting off, they banked tightly around the hill to whirl clear of the firing.

  When the assault choppers pulled out to refuel a second time, the entrenched enemy let loose with mortars, walking the rounds downhill over the hunkered-down men and into the first aid area. Fortunately, the choppers had extracted all the wounded and the Delta medics had vacated that area by then.

  Five hundred meters on the opposite side of the hill, Alpha Company troops were landing in a small valley clearing, shielded from the besieged hilltop by another larger hill. They were relying on the element of surprise, hoping the enemy did not see the choppers or hear them land. Their plan was to climb the muddy hill and come up behind the enemy while Delta Company and the attacking gunships were distracting them.

  Alpha found a good-sized trail leading to the summit, but decided against following it, especially since Delta had already hit a booby trap on the other side.

  Because of the muck and slippery conditions, they were forced to move slowly up the hillside. Finally, they managed to crawl and pick their way halfway up without confronting the enemy or his booby traps. Suddenly, gunfire behind the two lead squads sent everyone diving for cover. Half of the First Platoon had already passed when two VC emerged from spider holes on their left flank, opening fire on the advancing file of men. Sixpack immediately cut one of them down and an exploding grenade silenced the other. Rubber Ducky and three other soldiers sustained wounds in this exchange but their injuries were not critical. Rubber Ducky was shot in his right thigh - a through and through wound that luckily missed bone and major arteries. However, the second Lieutenant went into shock before Doc had a chance to reach him.

  After a quick evaluation, Doc asked for an escort then sent him and the other three wounded men to the bottom of the hill. Alpha Company continued their ascent, knowing the element of surprise was now gone.

  Meanwhile, Delta Company had fought their way up the hill, finally reaching the summit. Only sporadic fire continued as Delta started a cautious sweep across the hilltop.

  Alpha Company was still having a difficult time climbing the hill. On the way up, many grunts were losing their footing and sliding down the muddy hillside, taking anybody they fell into along. The men were still finding spider holes and could not advance without checking them first. Thankfully, all were vacant; nevertheless, for those uncovering the hole, it was a nerve-wracking experience. It took them more than an hour to climb the six hundred feet to the top and link up with Delta Company.

  Not much remained of the jungle canopy; many of the tree stumps were still smoldering from the intense heat of the bombardment. Without camouflage, the hilltop sat naked and fully exposed from above and below.

  It was surprising to everyone that of the thirty-seven enemy bodies counted, seventeen were females. Evidently, the women were active participants in the battle, as all were armed and died with weapons at their sides. Many of the soldiers had a difficult time accepting the fact that a large group of females had joined in the battle against the Americans. The enemy totaled slightly more than a platoon in size, yet held off two aggressive American Infantry Companies under a hail of artillery and gunship attacks for a period of almost six hours.

  The Wolfhounds received credit for all thirty-seven kills. The enemy on the other hand, had reduced the American’s headcount by twenty-six, ten permanently.

  The hilltop soon transformed into a high volume traffic center. The battalion Commander and some of his staff were in the first chopper to touch down. Subsequent arrivals included intelligence teams, dogs and their handlers, photographers, and representatives of the press. The grunts wondered if it might be necessary to bring air traffic controllers out on the next inbound chopper.

  The Intelligence folks and dog teams searched through the remaining rubble, hungry for any uncovered information. To alleviate the crowding on the hilltop, the brass ordered platoon-sized recon patrols to leave the summit and patrol through the surrounding jungle.

  First Platoon descended from the hilltop, now a popular attraction, and crossed through a small valley before climbing to the top of an adjoining hill. It was not as high as the former hill, but covered with heavier vegetation and underbrush. When they cleared a path across the summit to the edge, the battle site was clearly visible seven hundred meters away. The scarred
hilltop buzzed with activity, with choppers still landing and lifting off.

  It was evident that this new hilltop had not had any visitors for quite some time; the men did not find any trails or cleared out areas. Every step required the swing of a machete to clear a path through the overgrown brush. Striking out, the captain directed the men to follow a ridgeline on the far side of the hill down to the valley floor. This part of the valley consisted of tall elephant grass and small clumps of vegetation - nothing to impede their forward progress in returning to - what was now known as - Hill 200.

  Back on flat ground, the men had moved only two hundred meters from the base of the hill, when they unknowingly wandered into an area hit some time ago by powdered CS gas. It was impossible to know how wide of an area had been contaminated; the powder remained unnoticed and had lain dormant on the ground since then. Foot traffic activated the powder, creating newly airborne gas. Startled, the men wondered why their vision was blurry, their eyes were tearing, and it was becoming difficult for them to breathe. The parade moved on, disrupting the particles of powder on the ground and dispersing more gas into the air, worsening everyone’s conditions. Minutes after their initial symptoms appeared, the captain realized it was CS gas.

  “We’re being gassed! Everyone high tail it out of here as fast as you can!”

  The thirty-two men tried vacating the area as quickly as possible. In their haste, they twisted ankles and knees, and some soldiers tripped over one another to get away. Those coming up from behind latched onto the men who were limping or could not see and helped move them along.

  The mad dash ended after fifty yards or so when the effects of the gas began to subside. The men began assisting each other, flushing the noxious powder from their eyes. All continued to cough, some violently, until they could discharge the chemical from their throats and lungs. The grunts also learned that if they were not careful while brushing the powder from their hair and clothes, the CS gas would become airborne once again.

 

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