the Hill (1995)

by Scott, Leonard B

  A medic knelt beside Jason and slipped a clamp down on the artery. “Got it.”

  Jason wiped his hand in the dirt and looked around at the other wounded. Speaking with the same air of detachment, he said, “Whose are they?”

  Hammonds kept his light on the wound for the medic to work. “They’re from our company, sir. The round hit beside the company CP. The captain and first sergeant have light wounds, but these three got it pretty good. Hayes here is the worst.”

  Jason put on his helmet and stood up. “I’m going to the major and check on the status of the other companies.”

  “Jay, hold up; I’ll go with you,” Ty said.

  Jason spun around. “No! And don’t be running off again. Stay in that hole and dig in deeper … I can’t lose you, too.” He turned and melted into the darkness.

  Ty began to follow him, but Hammonds grabbed his leg. “Stay here and do what he says.”

  Ty broke the grip with a jerk. “He’s sick. He’s got battle fatigue or something.”

  Hammonds grabbed him again. “Get your ass down. He knows what he’s doing. He’s worried about you, that’s all.”

  Ty stared into the darkness. “You saw him. He acts like it … like it doesn’t bother him.”

  “It bothers him,” Hammonds said softly. “He’s just found a way to keep it inside. He’s like you when you’re on point … but he’s in a different groove.”

  37

  Hammonds awoke to a gentle nudge from Ty. He sat up and looked around the crater. “Where’s your brother?”

  Ty nodded toward the rows of wounded lying in a depression beside their position. “He came back late last night from the CP and was worried about a sergeant named Ferguson. Jason stayed with him ’cause he wasn’t doing very well and he wanted to keep him warm.”

  Hammonds was about to speak when Lieutenant Salias crawled into their hole. “Hammonds, get your squad ready to help carry the wounded. Medevacs will be coming in a few minutes.” Hammonds peered over the rim. “Who’s going to clear the LZ?” “Alpha Company’s First Platoon is on its way right now,” Salias said. “Once you’re done loading the wounded, get your weapons cleaned. We’re going to attack the hill at eleven hundred hours.”

  Hammonds heard a distant, familiar noise and tapped Ty’s arm. “You’d better get your brother up. I hear the birds.”

  Ty crawled out of the crater toward the wounded but saw that Jason was already awake and had litter teams positioned. He went up beside Jason, who was staring down the ridge in total concentration, waiting for the bird. “Jay, you want me to help you carry Ferguson?”

  Jason kept his distant stare and spoke without emotion. “He died an hour ago.” He lifted his head on hearing the Huey approach and yelled toward the litter teams, “Get ready!”

  The first chopper made it in without a shot being fired and picked up eight of the badly injured men who had been waiting for nearly fifty hours. Jason ran back toward the rest of the waiting wounded, feeling elated. The NVA must have pulled out during the night, and he could finally get his men home.

  The chopper lifted off as another one made its approach. Jason yelled for Ty and his squad to hurry, when, without warning, incoming mortar rounds exploded in the perimeter. He was knocked to the shaking ground and screamed in horror, “NOOOOO!”

  The promise of hope he had given to the wounded turned to smoke as the medevac pulled up to avoid the deadly shrapnel only to be hit by green tracers from the NVA’s chattering machine guns. The helicopter shuddered but kept gaining altitude. Trailing a thick cloud of smoke, the bird banked for the valley.

  Ty had seen his brother fall. He grabbed Jason’s collar and dragged him into the crater just as more mortar rounds landed in a succession of quaking, ear-shattering explosions.

  Jason fought Ty’s grip and turned over to see where the rounds were landing, praying the wounded would be spared. They were, but the men who had been sent to clear the LZ were not. The distinctive warning sounds of the mortars had been drowned out by the noise of the choppers. First Platoon of Alpha Company had been caught in the open with no holes to take cover in and were being cut to pieces. The trapped men couldn’t run or they would be cut down by steel splinters, but they couldn’t stay in the open either. It was like watching a group of drowning men being circled by sharks. No one could do anything for them but pray.

  The mortar shells rained down steadily for several minutes, sending up geysers of dirt and cutting jagged iron. One hysterical soldier lying in the impact area jumped to his feet to escape but was torn almost in two by shrapnel. Others lay motionless, while some dug frantically into the clay.

  The explosions suddenly stopped, leaving only fading echoes. The absence of sound was as unnerving as the barrage. The first noise to break the silence was a lone whimper, which steadily grew into a cry as it was joined by many others. “Medic! MEDIIIIIIC!”

  Jason couldn’t stand it any longer. He had evacuated eight men only to have more join the green poncho rows. He got up and walked toward the newly wounded to see what he could do.

  Silk and Cowboy laid the last of the wounded on ponchos and crawled into the crater with the rest of the squad. Hammonds looked up tiredly from the bottom of the hole. “What was the count?”

  Book Man wiped dirt from his rifle. “Three bought it and seventeen were wounded.”

  Hammonds’s jaw tightened. “So much for us being a relief force … looks like we’re just more meat. Salias briefed me while you guys were carrying the wounded. We’re attacking the hill at eleven. Alpha Company is going to be to our left and Charlie to our right. Bravo Company is going to be in the center, and we’re going to be the base squad.”

  Silk shook his head dejectedly. “Man, here we go again. Dis shit is gettin’ old. Why they puttin’ us in the middle? We gonna have our asses hangin’ in the wind.”

  Bugs snickered. “I hope they have a truck full of Purple Hearts.”

  “Shut up and quit sniveling; I don’t like it any better than you do,” Hammonds said impatiently. “We don’t get a vote, so just suck it up and get your weapons clean. At ten-thirty we start moving up to get on line.”

  Ty heard the plan and crawled out of the crater to look for Jason. He found him sitting beside an ashen-faced soldier who was staring blankly at the sky. The young paratrooper’s blackened torso looked as if animals had ripped out hunks of meat from his side and rib-cage.

  Jason checked for a pulse and sat back tiredly. The soldier was alive but wouldn’t last long if he didn’t receive whole blood.

  Ty crawled up beside him. “Jay, come on back to the crater; it’s safer than out here.”

  Jason kept staring at the wounded soldier. “You go back and stay put. This is where I belong.”

  “But Jay!”

  “Get back to the hole and stay there!”

  Ty’s face hardened. “I’m going with my squad on the attack. It’s the only way we can get you and these men off this hill. I came up here to tell you. You just said it for both of us: You belong here … and I belong with my friends.”

  Jason’s looked up at Ty as if seeing him for the first time. The distant coldness evaporated, and his eyes watered. He lifted his dog tag chain from his neck and held it out. “Take the wings back to your hill, Ty.”

  Ty pushed his hand away. “You keep ’em; they’ve been good luck for ya.”

  But Jason kept his trembling hand extended. Then he lowered his head and started to cry. He couldn’t help himself. His tears began flowing and he couldn’t stop them. Frustration, guilt, and grief poured from his soul. Death and misery had finally overcome him. He slumped over, unable to sit erect, his entire body shaking with bone-weary sadness and emptiness. He was tired of the blood, dirt, and pathetic stares; tired of the smell of burnt and infected flesh; tired of the despair. It all seemed so hopeless. Living was a nightmare … until he had looked into his brother’s face.

  Ty crawled over and hugged him tightly. “I love you, Jay. You’re gonna
be fine. We’re gettin’ off this hill and goin’ home. Ya hear me? We’re goin’ home. That’s a promise.”

  Jason hugged Ty, not wanting to let him go, and spoke in a whisper. “You can’t do it, Ty.”

  “I’ll be back,” Ty said softly. “The sooner we take the sonofabitch, the sooner we’ll both be going home.”

  Jason let his hands fall and forced a pained smile through his tears. “I’ll see ya, brother.”

  Hammonds crawled down the line of waiting men and shouted over the crunching artillery, “We’re not attacking till fourteen hundred hours. The Air Force is going to soften it up more for us.”

  Silk took out his entrenching tool and began digging. “Man, I ain’t layin’ here behind this tree and let no gook mortar git me.”

  Bugs shook his head and leaned back on a fallen tree. “Man, if they’re gonna get you, they’re gonna get you. Why bother?”

  Cowboy slapped at Bugs’s helmet. “Dig, fool. I’m beside ya and I don’t wanna get splattered.”

  Ty had already dug under the tree to protect himself from the indirect mortar rounds and had widened the hole to make room for Hammonds. Caddy crawled into Ty’s hole. “Cat, help me with Surf. He’s scared to death and just shit his pants. The dude is locked up stiff.”

  Caddy backed out of the hole, and Ty began to follow him when mortar rounds impacted close by, shaking the ground. Caddy screamed and raised up, frantically, clawing at his back as if he were on fire. Ty grabbed him and threw him on his stomach. An ugly iron splinter was lodged in the middle of his back, smoking like a red-hot coal. Ty grabbed the jagged piece of iron, but it burned his fingers. Taking the towel from Caddy’s neck, he put it over the hot metal and pulled it out. Caddy collapsed like a limp doll.

  “MEDIC!”

  Lieutenant Salias crouched behind Hammonds and looked at his watch. “It’s time, move out.”

  Hammonds turned around and grabbed the lieutenant’s collar. “YOU lead us, SIR! It’s time you earned your pay!”

  Salias’s eyes grew wide. “I’m supposed to stay back and make sure the platoon stays on line.”

  Hammonds jerked the lieutenant to his feet and shoved him forward. “It’s time an officer led instead of followed. Lead us, goddamnit!”

  Salias surprised Hammonds by smiling cruelly. “This time you’re right. FIRST PLATOON, ON YOUR FEET! MOVE OUT!” He waved his men forward. “FOLLOW ME!”

  Private Duong and the replacement pushed with all their might and moved the limb only a few meters, but it was enough. They’d used a bamboo pole and extended it through the firing port to push a blown-down tree limb that blocked their field of fire out of the way. The replacement quickly pulled the pole in as Duong readied his machine gun. The attackers were silhouetted as they climbed toward the bunker over the logs and debris. He held his breath, aimed, and squeezed the trigger. The recoiling weapon felt good as he began sweeping the barrel back and forth, raking the assault line.

  Colonel Huu yelled into the field phone, “They are attacking! Every available man to the trenches!” He hung up and grabbed the next phone handset. “They are attacking. Fire your mortars just to the front of our first defensive line.”

  He tossed down the handset and spun around, facing his staff with a smile. “At last!”

  Bravo Company had advanced only fifteen meters before being pinned down by withering fire. The company commander screamed for the First Platoon to advance while the Second Platoon laid down a base of fire.

  Salias rose from the ground. His left shoulder was bleeding from a bullet graze. “MOVE OUT, FIRST! DON’T STOP!” He took two steps and was hit in the chest. He spun around, spitting up blood, and dropped to his knees. “Don’t … don’t stop.”

  Hammonds saw the lieutenant fall and stepped over his body as he fired at the hilltop. The second squad rushed forward but was mowed down like wheat stalks. Ty saw the muzzle flash of the machine gun that had decimated the second squad. He pulled Hammonds to the ground. “Bunker to our right twenty meters!”

  Hammonds motioned his squad down. “Cowboy, Silk, Surf, cover us! Bugs, come with Cat and me.”

  Ty tossed a smoke grenade in front of the bunker’s firing port and threw himself behind a stump. Hammonds waited until the white smoke spread and yelled, “NOW!”

  Hammonds, Ty, and Bugs ran toward the bunker as the rest of the squad laid down a base of fire. The three men ran through the smoke and fell to the ground behind the firing port. Hammonds gagged on the choking smoke but took out a grenade and pulled the pin. He let the lever fly, counted to two, and tossed the grenade toward the slit. The device hit the side of the small opening and bounced back. Hammonds cursed and flattened himself against the ground just as the grenade went off only six feet away. The vicious blast blew off his helmet, and fragments tore into his face and shoulders. Another NVA machine gun from the supporting bunker swung toward the three exposed men and stitched the ground in front of them. Cowboy saw the muzzle flash and ran up the slope, shooting to draw the gunner’s attention, as Silk and Surf fired at the gun port.

  Ty dragged Hammonds back and pulled out his pistol. He crawled to the side of the firing port and rolled, shooting, in front of the portal. The Vietnamese gunner’s eyes widened as a bullet grazed his cheekbone and blew a hole through his earlobe. Ty’s first target fell with the shot, but another soldier stood inside the bunker staring at him. Ty jammed the pistol into the opening and fired two rounds into the man’s face.

  Duong felt as if he had been hit in the face with a burning club as he frantically clawed the bloody dirt floor, trying to drag himself toward the tunnel. Only a second before, the replacement had been lifted off his feet and thrown back against the far bunker wall, splattering Duong with blood and brains. Duong knew a grenade would be coming next. He crawled to the tunnel and just made it inside when a blast shook the bunker and filled the tunnel with dust.

  Ty threw another grenade into the slit and joined Bugs, who was lying in a bomb crater behind the bunker tending to Hammonds’s head wound. He raised up and saw Cowboy lying beside the other bunker portal about to pull a grenade pin. Suddenly, just behind the Texan, two NVA popped up from a trench. One fired a rocket launcher, but the other saw Cowboy and fired his AK-47. The burst hit the thin soldier in the back. He jerked with the impact, dropping the primed grenade, and rolled over. Ty raised his submachine gun, but it was too late. Cowboy was lifted off the ground by the deadly blast.

  Bugs grabbed Ty’s leg and frantically pointed behind him. NVA were popping out of the trench line only fifteen meters behind them, firing rockets and throwing grenades at the remaining men of Bravo Company. The attack was halted. Dead and wounded paratroopers were raked with gunfire as they lay exposed in the bomb rubble, while the rest of the men sought cover behind fallen trees and in craters. No one was able to move forward. The other bunker’s machine gun and the guns in the bunkers farther up the slope were shooting anyone who exposed himself. Rockets swooshed down the slope, and mortar rounds rained down death.

  Ty crawled into the crater and looked at his unconscious sergeant. Hammonds’s face was ripped open, exposing the gums and teeth of his lower jaw. Bugs had placed a shell casing in his mouth to prop it open so that he could breathe, and not choke on his own blood. His shoulder wounds were bad, but none of the wounds were bad enough to kill him if he got medical attention.

  Ty took the safety pin from his bandolier and pinned back the flap of dangling skin from Hammonds’s chin to just under his lip.

  Bugs cringed and turned his head. “Jesus, Cat. What are we gonna do?”

  Ty took off his towel and wrapped it around the sergeant’s face, then laid him on his stomach so the wound would drain. “You’re going to start digging while I keep us covered.”

  Major Shelly listened to the situation reports from the company commanders and abruptly stood up. “Get the Second Battalion officers up here, NOW!”

  Minutes later, he sat looking into the gaunt faces of Shiler, McDonald, a
nd Johnson. “Men, Fourth Batt is getting waxed. Alpha Company has been chopped to half strength and Bravo has already got over thirty wounded or dead. Bravo is pinned down in front of the first bunker line. Charlie Company has taken moderate casualties and advanced to the trench line, but the poor bastards are being ground up on the flanks. In short, Fourth has been chewed up and spit out. Get the able-bodied from our companies and move them up immediately to help evacuate the Fourth Batt’s wounded.”

  Lieutenant McDonald raised his head in exasperation. “Sir, we only have maybe forty troops who can walk. Who’s gonna man the perimeter?”

  Shelly realized he’d made a rash decision and softened his voice. “You’re right … okay, send ten men to help get the wounded.”

  Jason raised a dirty hand. “I’ll take the ten men out.”

  “No, you stay with the wounded. You know the priorities for evacuation if a bird makes it in.”

  Jason’s eyes focused on the major in a rigid stare. “My brother is in Bravo Company.”

  Shelly returned the stare for only a second, then cut his eyes to McDonald. “You take charge of the wounded. Have the ten men report to Johnson in this crater in five minutes.”

  Ty peered over the crater toward the trench where the NVA were periodically popping up and firing B-40 rockets. He didn’t see anyone. He shifted his eyes slowly toward the bunker to his left and bit his lip. Cowboy was still alive. The Texan was clawing the dirt, trying to pull himself toward a stump.

  “What’s a matter?” Bugs whispered, seeing Ty’s eyes.

  Ty pushed the magazine release and inserted a new magazine. “Cowboy is still hangin’ in. I’m gonna crawl to the next bunker and knock it out.”

  Bugs’ eyes widened in disbelief. “Shit, man, it’s suicide!”

  Ty raised up and looked for a route. “The gunner is lookin’ down the hill. If I stay high on the ridge, he won’t see me.” He could see that Bugs was not convinced and didn’t want to be left alone. “Look, it’s the only chance we’ve got to get Sarge and Cowboy back alive. The company is pinned down by that damn gun. We’re the only ones that can do it. Just cover me and make sure no dink raises up from the trench and takes a shot.”