When reaching the stream, those members of the Second Platoon who had crossed the day before found that nothing had changed since their last visit. The ground was still undisturbed and showed no evidence of recent foot traffic.
They began searching through the immediate area when a distant rumbling noise further upstream got their attention. Cap sent the First Platoon on a recon patrol to find the source. They dropped their packs and split into two groups, walking upstream with two squads on each side of the slowly moving, muddy water.
As they moved forward, the rumbling noise grew louder and more pronounced. After walking close to a quarter of a mile, they glimpsed a beautiful waterfall through the trees just a short distance away. The water cascaded over large boulders and fell thirty or so feet to the stream. The men were relieved to find the source of the unfamiliar sound. Even from this distance, they felt the cool mist of the waterfall surround them. The vaporized water offered a brief, pleasant respite from the jungle heat as it settled onto their bare arms and faces. The men stood entranced and were reluctant to move.
Their ecstasy ended abruptly when the point man spotted what he thought to be soap bubbles floating on the water. They informed Cap of this observation; he responded that it might be foam created from the falling water. However, he directed them to proceed cautiously and see what else they could find.
The patrol did not have to move too far before coming upon a nearly-hidden pool at the base of the mountain. About twenty-five feet in diameter, it sat in a large natural crater, with gentle rapids leading away in three directions and feeding the streams.
Both columns stopped abruptly and dropped to a knee when hearing laughter and loud voices from under the roaring waterfall, the point men moving forward cautiously for a closer look. To their surprise, ten enemy soldiers were near or in the pool. Two uniformed guards stood near the rim of the crater, but paid no attention to the surrounding area. Instead, they cajoled with the other eight naked soldiers bathing in the water.
Both point men returned to their groups and whispered their findings to the waiting men. The Lieutenant immediately called the CP.
“Eagle-one, this is Eagle-niner actual, over.”
“This is Eagle-one, go ahead.”
“Be advised that we have ten November Victor Alpha (NVA) in the open and will engage in one-mike (minute), over.”
John informed Cap, and he quickly took the handset from him.
“This is Eagle-one actual, talk to me.”
“Roger, one actual, we located enemy soldiers in a pond at the base of a waterfall. They’re bathing and have posted armed guards on both sides.”
“Have you been seen?”
“Negative. They are making too much noise and the guards are not paying attention. They will be totally surprised.”
“Roger, niner actual. Be careful and good hunting. Eagle-one actual, standing by.”
Thirty seconds later, a ferocious deluge of gunfire burst forth toward the crater; it started suddenly and did not change in tempo, every weapon firing on automatic.
Both armed guards on the rim of the crater were the first to go; small puffs of smoke arose from different areas across their upper torsos as dozens of bullets found their mark. The two remained standing for a few seconds during this onslaught, appearing to mimic a marionette’s spastic movements. When the firing shifted to the pool, the two lifeless bodies of the armed guards collapsed to the ground and slid downhill into the water.
The ambush totally surprised the bathing soldiers, panicking the group. Some swam with purpose toward the edges of the pond; others dove deep underwater hoping to find refuge. Small geysers appeared throughout the pool as hundreds of red-hot steel projectiles hit the water; many of the rounds found the frantic swimmers, preventing them from reaching the edge. Some of the bodies bobbed in the angry and rough water when bullets found them again. Two remaining enemy soldiers ducked under water, trying to find a last minute haven in the murky depths. They lived a minute longer than the others, and died quickly when breaking through the surface, gasping to replenish their supply of oxygen.
After thirty seconds, the L-T called for a halt in the firing and then dispatched one squad to watch the trail leading away from the pool. He did not want another group of NVA to walk up and surprise them. Meanwhile, two soldiers kept their eye on the floating corpses, watching for movement, while the rest of the squad gathered weapons and searched through the enemy supplies.
The smell of gunpowder hung heavily in the air, a bluish-white cloud of smoke billowed slowly before eventually dissipating a few minutes later. All the bodies were drifting on the surface, some face up and some face down. The brown, soapy water had turned to crimson - dark where blood had collected and much lighter near the base of the waterfall where fresh water was beginning to rinse away the signs of death.
Only five minutes had expired since the opening volley. The L-T took the radio handset from the RTO.
“Eagle-one actual, this is Eagle-niner actual, over.”
“Go ahead, niner actual.”
“Roger, engagement successful. No casualties and no survivors.”
“Great job! What is your ETA back to my position?”
“Unknown at this time. We are searching through their packs and tossing everything we do not keep into the pond. It is quite deep and should hide the equipment for months. Will let you know when we’re done.”
“Eagle-one actual, roger, out.”
In their search around the waterfall, First Platoon did not find anything of substance within the stowed gear. They located only two rucksacks, packed with soap, towels and clothing, and ten AK-47 rifles with bandoliers of ammo. This concerned the grunts, strongly suggesting a base camp or staging area was nearby. They quickly tossed everything into the water, placed a call to the CP, and then moved out to rejoin the company.
The enemy's mistake in using soap had given them away. Had the point men not spotted bubbles flowing in the stream, the platoon might not have caught them so unprepared.
When moving back downstream, the current carried continuous ribbons of crimson-colored water, keeping pace with the platoon as they quickly tried to put some distance between themselves and the waterfall.
When Cap received the earlier call from the First Platoon informing him of enemy soldiers in the open, he had gathered the rest of the company and moved them away from the stream crossings and closer to the waterfall. When the firing started, the men halted, waiting patiently in a reactionary mode until the platoon returned safely.
Now, that everyone was together again, the men took a break while the L-T briefed Cap about their find. There were no documents or souvenirs to share, and the fact that they only found soap, towels and clothes within the rucksacks could mean that First Platoon had stumbled upon a regularly-used enemy bathing pool. The NVA’s high level of confidence and lack of security indicated that their ‘home’ was very near.
Cotton Top was keeping battalion informed ever since the initial call from the First Platoon, sharing their theory of a nearby base camp or staging area. This piece of information piqued their interest and the planners began working on a mission right away.
When Alpha Company returned to the area where the underwater stone bridges were located, they were quick to note wet ground and muddy footprints leading into the jungle on the other side of the stream. A group of people had evidently been in a hurry to get across while the Americans were upstream.
The platoon leaders quickly dispatched a squad to recon just inside the jungle on both sides of the stream, while the officers took a closer look at the area around the crossings.
John looked over to Cap and said, “This is really weird, it seems like enemy soldiers are all around us.”
“I agree. But I’m guessing that this particular group is trying to evade us and keep out of our way for an especially sinister reason. Who knows? They might be hustling up some kind of an ambush as we speak.”
“Why don’t we leave s
ome mechanicals set up here and move away to a different location?”
“What do you mean by mechanicals?”
“You know, booby traps with claymores.”
“I’ve heard of them, but we’ve never used them since I’ve been here. I doubt if anyone even knows how to make one.”
“I do.”
“You do? How does it work?” Cap asked, intrigued.
“You set up a string of mines to cover a certain area and connect them to each other with detonation cord and blasting caps. Then you set a trip-wire somewhere in the middle and hook the entire thing to a six-volt battery. When the wire is tripped, the mines explode.”
“And you can make these?”
“Yep. I only need the right supplies.”
“Okay. Talk to Fuzzy and have him get you what you need. He’ll make sure it comes out on our resupply tomorrow.”
This excited Cap. It was something new for him and might even give his company a slight edge in the valley.
John solicited the help of others while waiting for the resupply and started to make some of the components for the mechanical ambush. Cotton Top and Fuzzy both helped. They cut off the tops from several c-ration cans, and then bent them in half, wriggling each one back and forth until they broke in two. Using large Bowie knives, they punched out small holes into each of the lid halves and plastic knives. Others whittled away at finger-thick pieces of tree branches, sharpening the eighteen-inch long stakes like huge pencils. When done, they had enough supplies to build ten small mechanical ambushes.
After the resupply, some of the guys in the Third Platoon were anxious to be involved, and asked if they could help in preparing the rest of the equipment. John split up the work and supervised these volunteers after some instruction. The most dangerous job was cutting the detonation cord into twelve-foot long sections and crimping blasting caps onto each end. It was important to keep them away from electrical devices, fires, and to handle them gently. The bright and sunny weather would make this process go smoothly. If a storm was approaching, static electricity alone could detonate a blasting cap. By itself, these were nothing more than firecrackers, but when attached to a detonation cord, there would be a major explosion. For that night, they would only need to prepare six of the sections for the three ambushes.
Some of the men worked with the thin, clear line, wrapping twenty-five feet around the top of each stake like a fishing reel, and then securing the end to a plastic knife. A rubber band held the utensil to the stake.
The project went quickly, and, after John tested and double-checked his work, he informed Cap that all pieces were ready. Cap was anxious to move out and get the ambushes set up, and since the Third Platoon personnel helped with most of the work, he thought it only fair that they help to set them up. The men divided all the fabricated supplies, nine claymore mines, and three six-volt batteries between themselves and prepared to move out. Fuzzy would monitor the company frequency and keep in contact with the RTO of the Third Platoon: Eagle-five.
At the stream, the men only took a few minutes to determine which of the paths offered the best opportunity for a successful ambush.
John and four volunteers moved up one of the paths into the jungle; Cap followed closely behind with a notepad and pencil in hand. When finding a suitable spot, John instructed his students on where to place the mines, spacing them ten feet apart and back about two feet from the trail. Each claymore mine has two ports, which made it easy to daisy chain the mines for simultaneous detonation.
The plan was going well. The group of young soldiers were eager to learn, and Cap was favorably impressed by John’s technical knowledge.
“That’s it for this one. She’s all set to go,” John said with a wide grin. The other volunteers smiled, also pleased.
“Is that all there is to it?”
“That’s it.”
“Damn, there’s nothing to it! Do you mind if I hook up the next one?”
“Be my guest, Cap.”
When setting up the ambush on the next trail, Cap read from his notes and directed the same volunteers in the systematic process. This time, the set-up went much faster as less explanation was necessary. Cap walked through the shin high trip wire and both John and Cap were pleased with the outcome. Cap unrolled the long length of cord, all five men took cover, and he successfully made the final connection to the battery.
The group placed the third mechanical to cover a trail on the other side of the stream. John only supervised the volunteers and allowed them to set up this last ambush by themselves. Later, he thought, they would be able to help in the training of others in the company so that each platoon could do it successfully.
Third Platoon gathered on the main trail and then started their mile long hike back to the NDP. Upon their return, there was excitement in the air as they waited for the sound of exploding claymore mines, which they expected at any moment.
They were disappointed when nothing happened during the first night. Some of the men had doubts about the ambush, questioning the reliability of the components and of the possibility that the NVA had dismantled the booby traps. The comments swayed Cap, and he decided to send out the Third Platoon again after breakfast. They would check on the three ambushes and scout the immediate vicinity for activity.
Suddenly, the sound of a distant explosion took everyone by surprise. There was a moment of panic before the men realized that it was one of the mechanical ambushes detonating. Those around the perimeter smiled and began congratulating each other with high fives. Cap stood up and walked over to where John had been eating breakfast. He was halfway there when a second loud explosion sounded from the same vicinity.
“Goddamn, Polack, we’re tearing them up!” Cap was jubilant.
“You don’t know how good that makes me feel. I was beginning to have my doubts, but now…”
A third explosion stopped John in mid-sentence.
Everyone was stunned for a few seconds, amazed that all three ambushes had blown within a five-minute period.
“Holy shit! I can’t believe it! Has something like this ever happened before, Polack?”
“Never, Cap. This is a first for me.”
Imploring faces looked toward the CP; the men were anxious to check out the results of their work.
“Is it possible that the first ambush could have set off the others?”
“It would be highly unlikely,
Cap - unless something was blown into the air and fell exactly onto the trip wire of the other two. You also have to consider that animals like wild boars or monkeys could trip ambushes; I’ve seen that happen a few times before.”
Cap contacted the platoon leaders and informed them that the Third Platoon would be going to check on the ambushes. The others would remain in place and on standby, ready to support them if they ran into trouble. They all relished the thought of catching NVA in booby traps for a change, and waited patiently to hear the results.
When the platoon was within fifty meters of the first blown ambush, the men stopped and Cap ordered a ‘mad minute’, directed toward the ambush sites on both sides of the stream. Almost forty weapons, M-16’s and M-60 machine guns fired a barrage of flying lead relentlessly through the areas to their front. When the firing stopped, the men split into three separate groups and advanced slowly toward the three ambush sites.
The results were the same at all three. The exploding claymore mines had destroyed the area surrounding the ambush locations and bodies littered the ground at each of the sites. In total, they counted seventeen dead NVA soldiers in full battle gear. Except for their pith helmets, they were dressed similarly to the Americans: wearing fatigues, web gear, and boots, and they carried rucksacks stuffed to capacity. The enemy soldiers were sprawled on the ground in various positions and had internal organs exposed and missing limbs. The green and brown foliage on the other side of the trail was speckled in red - human tissue and blood were still dripping to the ground. Fragments of white bone hit nearby trees,
leaving the bark looking as if buckshot had been fired into it.
The first order of business was to strip the equipment and search the bodies before leaving the area.
Billy Ray, one of the squad leaders, was the first to attempt to remove one of the rucksacks and struggled, getting nowhere. “Steven, come here and help me remove this rucksack. It weighs almost twice as much as mine,” he said, frustrated.
The point man from New Jersey walked over to help the sergeant. “Damn, this shit is heavy. What do you suppose is in here, Sarge?” Both men struggled to remove the pack.
“We’ll find out if we can ever get this thing off.”
Finally, the squad leader used a Bowie knife to cut through the straps to remove the ruck from the corpse; they lifted it to the side and set it down next to the body. Billy Ray untied the straps, opened the covered flap, and began withdrawing items, handing them to Steve, who separated them into piles next to him.
Meanwhile, several other soldiers moved toward the other corpses and teamed up to remove those rucksacks, repeating the actions of Billy Ray and Steve.
“Look at all this shit these little guys carried. We got fish, rice, canned goods, cigarettes, ammunition, a change of uniform, cleaning gear, a wallet, and all their personal belongings.”
“It must be the standard pack for all of them, Steve. This one has the identical stuff inside.”
The L-T was correct; the contents of all the rucksacks were identical.
The odor was overwhelming; the stench of raw flesh and coppery - smelling blood engulfed the air. The sights and smells did not affect the old timers like John and some of the others, who, sadly, had to become accustomed to the bloodshed. The Cherries, on the other hand, had all vomited at one time or another, since encountering the carnage.
Cherries - A Vietnam War Novel - Revised Edition Page 40