Nha Trang Corps Headquarters
Colonel Ellis stood to the side of General Wayland's desk, pointing to a wall map. "We have confirmed that the Thirty-third and Forty-second NVA regiments are assembling in this mountainous area here. Reports indicate the Thirty-ninth regiment will link up in the next three weeks to form the Second Division."
The gray-haired Corps commander seemed preoccupied and merely glanced at the map. "Colonel, you're wasting my time. You know my orders are pacification. That area you so casually pointed to is over one hundred square kilometers. It would take three divisions to find them. And if we did find them, Washington would never accept our casualities."
Colonel Ellis pressed. "We don't need three divisions, General. The Rangers will find them for us, like they found the base camps in Cambodia. The Rangers can pinpoint their main base, and we can send in a B-52 strike to destroy it."
The general's eyes told Ellis he was interested, but not convinced. Now for the icing, thought the colonel.
"Sir, Region Headquarters is aware of this buildup, as is the South Vietnamese government. I think you'll agree they will look very favorably upon this Corps should we reduce this potential threat . . . especially since recent reports indicate that the commander of all Communist forces in South Vietnam, General Binh Ty Due, is co-located with the Second Division."
Wayland leaned forward in his chair and studied the map more closely.
"When would the Rangers go in?"
"Four weeks, sir. We would want the NVA with their base camp fully operational and feeling relatively safe. Plus, we need to bring the Rangers up to full strength. We haven't been taking very good care of them recently."
The general leaned back in his chair, thinking aloud. "You know, we haven't had any positive press since the Cambodia invasion. An operation like this ..." His eyes locked on the G-2. "I approve the plan. You brief me in one week on the details and prepare a briefing for Region Headquarters."
"Yes, sir," Ellis said with satisfaction. He decided to try one more hand. "General, I've already informed Colonel Rite to begin filling the Rangers back up to strength, and I'm moving the Rangers to An Khe where they can begin a rebuilding program. I hope you approve?"
"Yes, of course. Do whatever is necessary."
"Thank you, sir. . . . Oh, I'm sorry, sir, but when you mentioned 'press' I was reminded-I wasn't sure if you knew the Associated Press would be at the awards ceremony this evening?"
The general's eyes lifted immediately. "What ceremony?"
"The Aviation Battalion is awarding several pilots Distinguished Flying Crosses. I thought you were ..."
Wayland suddenly reached over and snatched up his phone. "Get me Rite up here, now!" He slammed down the receiver and looked back at Ellis.
"How'd you hear about this?"
"Sir, the Aviation commander and I are classmates and had dinner last night. I thought you knew about the ceremony or I wouldn't have ..."
Wayland raised his hand, interrupting the G-2. "It's a good thing you did mention it. At least I have one staff officer who understands the power of the press. Thank you and keep up the good woric."
Ellis came to attention, then briskly strode to the door. He'd pulled it off perfectly. He felt like skipping, but kept his measured gait until passing through the aide's office to the hallway.
The portly G-l personnel officer ran up the stairs and called out to him. "What's the general want? Do you know?"
Ellis fought to keep a straight face. "Not really, I just mentioned to him the awards ceremony this evening and. . ."
"Jesus! What ceremony?"
Ellis calmly restated what was said and grinned as the colonel bolted into a nearby office. Ellis chuckled as he strolled down the hallway.
Colonel Rite quickly picked up a telephone and called downstairs to his public affairs officer.
"What's this about an awards ceremony at the Aviation Battalion?"
"Yes, sir, they're awarding two DFCs."
"Was the general invited?"
"Yes, sir, but I checked his calendar and he has a meeting with the Fourth Division commander for dinner so . . ."
"Shit! You should have told me! My god, the press is going to be there! He'd cancel the Fourth's general to. . . shit, never mind, just get in my office, now!"
Rite slammed down the receiver and hurried to the general's office.
The aide looked up from his desk. "He's waiting on you, sir."
Rite opened the door and cringed as the general looked up from his desk. "Goddamn it, Charles! How come I wasn't. . ."
Rite walked out of the general's office five minutes later, red- faced. Goddamn that Ellis. He did this to me, that smart-ass son of a bitch. He came into my office and as much as ordered me to fill the Rangers with experienced men. And now this. This! I'll get you, Ellis. I '11 get you and that prima donna Ranger outfit you think so much of.
Southern Liberation Military Headquarters
Private Nguyen Tran Nuu forgot his weariness and hunger as he stood just inside the entrance of the command tunnel. He and Colonel Sy had completed their long march to headquarters and were waiting for one of the general's staff officers to clear them for entry.
Nuu could not believe the size of the tunnel. Unlike those he had seen before, the corridor was large enough to accommodate three men walking shoulder to shoulder, and electric lights were strung along the six-foot-high earth ceiling for as far as he could see.
Colonel Sy noticed the private's eyes widening. "This is your new home. I think you will like your position in the Security Battalion. I will talk to the commander and see if you can be assigned a new RPG-7 to take the place of the RPG-2 you left behind."
Nuu lowered his head. "Thank you, comrade Colonel, but I should return to my platoon. They need me."
Colonel Sy put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "That is impossible, my friend. You now know the location of our headquarters. The tunnel is a secret and no one is allowed into the valley without permission. Very few even know of its existence. For the sake of security, you must now become one of the Guard Battalion that secures the complex. But it is a great honor to serve here. Your family will be very proud."
Nuu recalled who had halted them a kilometer from the entrance and searched their packs. He and the colonel had been escorted down a trail that passed through four heavily fortified checkpoints. The soldiers all wore clean uniforms of the same style and color, and even wore their red collar rank insignias. Their weapons were new, as was their equipment, but the most striking thing about the soldiers was how well-fed they all looked. One thing he had learned since coming to the south was that the liberation army lived day to day on scant rations. There had been days-sometimes weeks-when he had been given only a handful of sticky rice for a day's ration. Perhaps serving with the Guard Battalion would not be such bad duty after all.
Nuu looked at the young colonel sheepishly. "Comrade Colonel, do you think they have a uniform that will fit my frail bones?"
Sy laughed and patted the boy's shoulder. "Yes, my friend. I will see to it."
"Sy, you have returned!"
Sy turned around at hearing the familiar voice call his name. "Yes, Senior Colonel Chinh, I have come back to haunt you after sending me away so long."
Nuu backed up against the earthen wall and stood at attention. He had never seen a senior colonel before but recognized the four silver stars on the officer's shoulder insignia.
The old colonel warmly shook hands with the young officer and motioned to Nuu. "Is this a hero from the Thirty-third Regiment that ambushed the column?"
Sy smiled. "Yes, comrade Colonel, and he was my escort on my difficult journey back. He desires only a new uniform before being assigned to the Battalion."
Colonel Chinh looked at the small frame of the private and winked. "I think he desires a good meal first." Chinh turned to the sergeant posted at the entrance. "Call the senior sergeant and have him pick up this hero of the Thirty-third. Tell the sergeant
to feed him well and assign him immediately."
The colonel took Sy's arm and began leading him down the corridor. "Now tell me about the ambush. We received a report, but we have been waiting on your firsthand account. The general is very interested."
Sy looked over his shoulder at Nuu. "I will check on you tomorrow and see to the RPG-7. Thank you, my friend."
Nuu nodded only slightly as he stood at attention, still shaking from his shock that a senior colonel would address him as a hero.
The two officers turned right at the second corridor and walked down wooden steps to the second of four levels. The first was the security level, which housed the troop billets and Logistics Directorates rooms. The second level was the largest and held the staff billets and Political Directorates rooms. The third level, their destination, was the Military affairs section and held the large briefing and planning rooms. On the fourth level were generators and communications equipment. The complex was like a buried ship, complete with kitchens, sewage facilities, and electric ventilation. Surrounding the main headquarters tunnel were many smaller tunnels designed to confuse an attacking force. If an attack did come the entire headquarters could escape without detection by utilizing four main communications tunnels that exited kilometers away.
Colonel Chinh walked into the briefing room and sat down at a large table. "It is unfortunate a platoon was left behind, but. . ."
"I understand, comrade," said Sy.
The colonel's eyebrows raised. "Yes, and that is why the general sent you. He knew you would understand and appreciates your loyalty. Not many can see the future as we do." Chinh motioned to a nearby chair. "The Tall One is about to leave the headquarters to visit General Sang's consolidating division. He plans a political meeting in conjunction with the visit for which you will need to make arrangements."
Sy grinned ironically. "He plans to tame Sang, the Tiger?"
The colonel laughed. He was glad to have Sy back. Sang, the Second Division commander, was making himself a thorn in the general's side by his verbal attacks on current strategy. Sang was too impatient; he needed to be put in his place.
"Yes, he will give advice to the Second Division commander, and probably a lot more than advice." The colonel leaned closer to Sy and lowered his voice. "The general needs to get out of the tunnels. He has been very depressed and needs to breathe fresh air among his beloved soldiers. You will accompany him and prepare him for the political matters, and I will have to remain here and send you messages to keep the Tall One informed. I wish I could let you rest after your long journey, but there is much work to do. We cannot have any political directorates surprise us at the meeting. You know what must be done?"
Sy met the old man's eyes and nodded in silence. He would have to contact his spies within the directorates and determine if there were shifts in the political mood or outside pressures being exerted from party members with different views from those of Premier Van Dong. There is currently a power struggle being waged in Hanoi that could have an impact on the strategy of the war. It had been a constant battle between the military and political leadership since the death of Premier Ho Chi Minh last year. Many party members were leaning heavily in favor of China's views and were attacking the pro-Soviet members.
Colonel Chinh rose to his feet. "You do not have much time. The general leaves in three weeks. You and I must keep our general out of the political fight or the victory we seek will elude us for a long, long time."
Sy smiled reassuringly. "General Binh Ty Due will have no surprises, comrade. I can promise you."
An Khe
Sierra Company, Headquarters Base Camp
Thumper sat down against the outside wall of the barracks and stared at the brilliant scarlet sunset. The first group of the Third Platoon had arrived at An Khe after being delayed in Phan Thiet for over two hours. After all the hollering and cussing by Sergeant Gino to ready his men for the early flight, the plane had broken down after landing. The platoon finally arrived at 1600 hours and had been trucked across the sprawling base to the permanent Ranger camp.
First Sergeant Demand, the senior NCO of the company and custodian of the Ranger camp, met them with his usual speeches- "Rules of the Ranger Camp" and "Virtues of Cleanliness." "Top" Demand was an institution within the Rangers. He loved to talk and preach, and sometimes you couldn't distinguish between the two, but whatever he said, everybody listened.
Top had marched them to the mess hall after they stowed their gear and gave his other speech, "Rules in the Mess Hall." After chow they were told to stay in the area and help the other platoons coming in that evening from Da Lat.
Thumper relaxed for the first time all day and pulled out his billfold. The plastic-coated picture of Mary Ann was the first thing he saw when he opened the rubberized jungle wallet. She held the same smile he'd seen countless times yet never tired of, and wore a baggy Red Cross uniform that couldn't hide her perfect proportions. He'd taken the picture of her only fifty paces from where he sat. It was the last time he'd been with her, except in his dreams.
Thumper flipped the plastic partition over to the next picture and smiled. It was the man he longed to be with more than anyone else in the world-his brother. They'd been raised along the Susquehanna River and had been together constantly. When the officer came to the house and told the family Rob had died at Hue, Thumper couldn't believe it. His brother couldn't have died without his knowing it. They were too close. He'd known when Rob was happy and sad, and when he fell in love with Peg. They felt each other's pain. He knew everything about his brother. But he hadn't known this. And what made it worse, he hadn't know why.
Thumper went back to college among students who hid behind draft deferments and decried the war as a waste. Still, he knew his brother couldn't have died for nothing. Finally, he gave up his education and starting position as fullback on the football team to find the reason.
He'd found his answer one day several months ago as he stood in a formation honoring those who had fallen in his company. The major had said, "You know the devotion you feel for your fellow soldiers and the closeness and respect it engenders. You do all this, and people ask, 'Why? Why did he have to die?' They died, Rangers, for you and me. They died protecting their friends to their left or those behind them. They did their best so more like them wouldn't fall.
"No, Rangers, soldiers don't die for great causes or even for countries. They march forward and give their lives for their friends and fellow soldiers, who they know would do the same for them. . . ."
Thumper lowered his head, absorbing the silence. He was at peace with his brother's death. He could almost hear Robby's laughter on evenings like this. His laughter and the memory of Mary Ann's smile were all he had when he was alone, but those two things were enough, for he knew he would have them forever.
Chapter 5
5 September
Bien Hoa 433rd Flight Hospital
Matt Wade had been awakened at 0630 and told to report to the hospital helicopter landing pad to catch a flight to Phan Thiet. He had hurried to the pad only to find that the chopper wouldn't arrive for another twenty minutes. A passing orderly told him he could wait in the hospital mess hall.
Wade poured himself a cup of coffee and strolled into the dining area. He took several steps and froze. Directly in front of him, seated in the empty dining room, was a beautiful, auburn- haired woman clothed in a black jumpsuit that was covered with unit patches. Across from her was a rotund, middle-aged man wearing a loud Hawaiian-flowered shirt. The young woman glanced up at the sergeant with large, questioning, brown eyes. Wade couldn't help but stare. She was the first round-eyed woman he'd seen in three months.
The plump man grinned and motioned to a chair beside him.
"Sit down, my friend, and join us."
Wade hesitated, but the civilian stood and pulled back a chair and extended his hand.
The sergeant shook hands as the portly man loudly introduced himself. "I'm Walter Goldstein and this lovely lady
you saw yesterday at the USO show."
Wade's bewildered look revealed he hadn't seen the show. The woman raised her head in amusement while her companion recovered from his error. "Well, uh, there were so many there that. . . Well, let me introduce Sophia Salin, the best little singer in Southeast Asia!"
The small woman nodded silently in Wade's direction, disappointing him. He'd wanted to touch her hand.
Walter sat down, motioning to the sergeant's sling. "What happened to you, my boy?"
Matt slid the chair back to put more distance between himself and the loud voice. "I took some shrapnel in the shoulder, sir."
"Don't call me 4sir.' Hell, I'm just a dishonest agent trying to make a fast buck!" Walter laughed in an obnoxious hee-haw. He looked over at the woman, who rolled her eyes. "See, she agrees!" he guffawed even louder.
the Last Run (1987) Page 7