Selando spun around in disbelief.4 4What body? What bod..." He saw the soldier sprawled twenty feet away. 4'Son of a bitch! You wasted one!"
Ten minutes later, Gibson gathered his team around him in a streambed.
We're not going in with just one kill. We'll move into a laager tonight and move to another trail tomorrow."
The team exchanged worried glances as Watkins shook his head. "Hell, we got a kill. Let's get out of here."
Sergeant Selando poked the Kentuckian. "The L-tee is right. We haven't blown our Claymores, and he only fired one shot. Nobody will know where it came from. The dink was just a trail runner. We'll get some more tomorrow."
Watkins sighed. "Yeah, I guess it would look silly going in with just one round fired. Childs would hassle us for a month."
Gibson smiled and nodded toward Selando. "Find us a laager.
Childs put down the radio handset just as Major Shane and First Sergeant Demand walked into the bunker. Shane had been at Fourth Division headquarters all day, coordinating another operational area.
"What's up, Jerry?"
Childs pointed to the wall map and stood. "Sir, I got bad news and good news. The bad news is we lost two men wounded from Team Two-three. They tripped a booby trap and the point and slack man were splattered pretty bad in the legs by a grenade. They're both at the An Khe evac hospital. The good news is we've got three teams that got kills. Team Two-two killed four VC, Team Three-four greased two NVA regulars, and Gibson's team killed one VC."
"Gibson?" asked Shane, surprised.
"Yes, sir. Remember I told you the other day he was taking out the team?"
Shane eyed the sergeant. They both knew Childs had never mentioned it, but Childs must have had his reasons for letting the officer go.
"Have all the teams been debriefed yet?" the major asked.
"All but Gibson's team, sir. He's still out. It seems they only fired one shot, and he wants to try again."
"Tell me again why I let Gibson go out on a team," Shane said.
Childs rolled his eyes at Shane. "Shit, sir, the L-tee was hounding me to death. I figured we owed him the chance."
First Sergeant Demand smiled. "I knew that L-tee was a real Ranger the second I shook hands with him."
Shane shook his head worriedly. "Leave 'em out one more day and that's it. We've worked the area enough. The dinks will be on to us pretty soon."
Shane noticed the sergeant's distressed look and threw his arm over the shorter man's shoulder. "I woulda let him go too, Jerry. You made the right decision. Come on, let's go visit the hospital and see our guys."
Childs began to walk up the steps but Russian's dog jumped up on his legs, looking for a pat. "Git down, Bitch, damn it."
Shane noted that the sergeant's voice wasn't as gruff as it could have been and winked at Demand. "Jerry, looks like you got a friend."
"Naw, she just likes the beer I give her. Git down, damn it."
Childs finally bent over and ruffled Bitch's neck fur and scratched her head. "I'll be back, ya dumb mutt. Wadey, come here and hold her till I'm gone."
The young Spec-4 radio operator rose from his chair. "She'll just whine. You know how she is, Sarge."
Shane knew the small dog always stayed close to Childs when Russian was gone even though the sergeant hardly acknowledged her. "Come on, we'll take her with us."
The three men walked up the steps, with the yellow dog following happily.
The captivated audience of officers stared in fascination at the provocative performer in the clinging black jumpsuit whose husky voice had stolen their hearts. Virginia tossed her mike from hand to hand and danced sensually to the lively beat, then raised the mike to begin singing again.
Seated in the crowd of officers were two Red Cross women and their dates. One of the women was staring at the singer's jumpsuit so intently that she didn't hear the finance captain speak to her. He tapped the woman's arm to get her attention. "Mary Ann, what do you want to drink?"
The raven-haired woman broke her trance only for a moment. "Beer."
The captain turned to the waitress. "Two rum and Cokes, one vodka Collins, and a beer."
Sally Ramsey leaned over next to her friend and whispered, "What's wrong?"
Mary Ann shut her eyes for a moment, then turned back in her seat. "Nothing."
Sally knew better. Mary Ann was usually a dynamo of energy and always the life of the party. Sally had noted the change that afternoon after the mail came. Her tall friend seemed to be withdrawn and her constant smile had disappeared. She had hardly spoken a word while they waited in the compound for the captains to pick them up.
The singer finished her song to thunderous applause and nodded to the band to begin her second number. The musicians began playing the introduction to "Bridge Over Troubled Water" as she spoke softly. "I hope you gendemen won't mind if I change the words of Simon and Garfunkel's hit tune a little bit. This is a special dedication to a very special person."
She began to pick up the rhythm with her body and raised the mike to her lips.
The finance captain laughed loudly at something or other. Mary Ann didn't know what, but she faked a smile and leaned back.
"Sail on Ranger boy, your time has come ..."
Mary Ann spun around, hearing the singer's refrain. She now knew why the woman wore the unusual patch over her left breast. Mary Ann had noticed the patch immediately. The red border around the black scroll insignia with the white letters proclaiming "Airborne Ranger" was all too familiar to her. It was the patch of Sierra Company Rangers-Thumper's unit. The singer's words, "Ranger boy," confirmed the woman knew somebody in the company.
"Like a bridge over troubled waters, I will lay me . . ."
Mary Ann had received a letter from Thumper that afternoon. At first she'd been thrilled but then became angry. She'd waited for so long to hear from him and when he didn't write it had hurt her badly. Out of the blue, after so many passing months, his long-awaited letter came too late. She hadn't even opened it.
Mary Ann stood up and held out her hand. "Bill, let me borrow the keys to your jeep. I've got to go back to the compound for a few minutes.''
"I'll take you."
"No, you stay here and enjoy the show. I'll only be a few minutes. I left some medicine that I should have taken."
The captain dug in his pocket. "I thought maybe something was wrong with you. Do you want me to drop you off so you can rest?"
Forcing another smile, Mary Ann took the keys. "I'll feel better after I take the medicine."
She walked hurriedly for the door.
Wade set his beer down and patted Russian's back.
"Why don't you dance with one of those girls?"
Russian frowned. "I cannot dance with those whose brothers I may have killed."
"Well it sure doesn't stop Rose, does it?"
"He is crazy."
Wade laughed and picked up his beer again. They sat in the large recreation hall next to the beach. A ten-piece Filipino band played loudly on stage. Rose and Woodpecker had complained about coming to the hall, but quickly forgot their complaints upon entering. The place held more women than men.
The band took a ten-minute break and Rose walked back to their table with his arm around a beautiful young Vietnamese girl. "Matt, I wanna quit the Rangers and live here forever. This is heaven, man.'
The girl broke away from the black soldier's embrace. "I no Evan. My name Vuu Sim!"
Rose laughed and cupped the girl's face. "You bucoo beautiful Vuu. I dig you number one."
Preacher coughed to gain Rose's attention to remind him of their conversation that afternoon.
Rose eyed Preacher and winked.
Woodpecker returned to the table alone and ordered a beer by hollering out to a waitress. Several men behind him turned and surveyed the table surrounded by men wearing camouflage fatigues. One of the men, a blond Spec-4, snickered, "Sit down, Air Force REMF!"
Woodpecker knew the Air Force MPs wore
camouflage fatigues and smiled at the Spec-4, pointing to his Ranger patch.
"We ain't Air Force, man. We're Rangers."
"Same thing, asshole. Sit down!"
Woodpecker began to walk over, intent upon rearranging the specialist's face, when Wade reached out and spoke softly. "Sit down, Woodpecker. He's drunk."
The tall redhead gave the blond Spec-4 a last warning glare and sat down beside Wade. "That son of a bitch is askin' for it."
"Be cool, forget it," said Wade, looking over his shoulder. The Spec-4 and his four friends wore Fifth Division patches. One of the soldiers flipped up his middle finger at him. Wade turned, shaking his head.
Vuu Sim sat on Rose's lap at his insistence and rocked the table with laughter at her cutting remarks about Rose. Rose didn't like the woman's chiding.
Vuu leaned over the table toward Wade. "Rose, he say he numba one Ranger, is true?"
"Yep, if he says so!"
"He say he bucoo lover-boy and love me too much, is true?"
Wade cleared his throat in embarrassment and began to answer when Preacher spoke up: "Rose is a very personable person who extends his affection to everyone."
The young giii stared at Preacher, then turned to Rose. "What he say?"
Rose shook his head. "Hell, I don't speak Indian. I dunno."
The band struck up again and Rose patted the girl's buttocks. "Let's get down on the sounds!"
She wiggled on his lap and leaned over the table toward Preacher. "You talk fun-nay. I like you. You dance with me, okay?"
Preacher's eyes widened in surprise and he shook his head. "Thank you for asking, but I don't dance."
The girl hopped up and grabbed his hand. "I show you!"
Preacher held on to his chair, resisting her tugging. Rose grinned and waved him up. "Do it, Preacher. She digs you, man!"
The small soldier rolled his eyes as he got up reluctandy and let himself be tugged to the dance floor.
Woodpecker handed Rose a beer. "That was cool, Rose. Thanks."
Rose picked up the can and stood grinning as he looked over other prospects. "She talks too much, anyway. I need one that believes the Rose.''
The Spec-4 behind their table snapped, "Sit down, nigger!"
Rose spun around, throwing his beer at the soldier. ' Tuck you, leg!"
The Spec-4 and his friends all stood.
Wade stepped in front of Rose and put his hand up. "Setde down guys. Let's just sit down and be cool."
The blond soldier was the same size as Wade and took a step closer.
"We gonna have to teach you Airborne assholes a lesson."
Suddenly the four men behind the blond soldier were brushed past by Thumper, Sergeant Zubeck, and his four men. Thumper put his large arm over the Spec-4's shoulder.
"What did you just say?"
The soldier stuttered and glanced behind him as Woodpecker joined Wade and Rose. The blond looked up at Thumper.
"I didn't mean nothin'."
Thumper motioned to Rose. "I think you owe my friend an apology."
"Look, man. I'm sorry. We drank a few beers and I'm sorry."
Rose grinned and puffed up his chest. "No sweat, leg."
Thumper removed his arm and took the soldier's chair and slid it up to Wade's table. He sat down and looked over his shoulder at the staring blond. "Good night."
The soldier walked quickly for the exit, followed by his friends.
Mary Ann folded the letter and walked for the door. Damn him, she thought. Damn him for coming back into my life. She drove back to the club trying to sort out her feelings. As she pulled into the parking lot, she could hear the woman singing. His letter had been four pages of apology and ended with, "I still think of you every day." Damn him. The big guzoo had terrible handwriting but his words were emotional and sincere. He said the reason for not writing before was that he couldn't put his feelings into words.
Mary Ann entered the club just as the singer bowed to the clapping audience and walked off stage. Mary Ann paused for a moment only a few feet from her table and then changed direction.
Virginia closed the door to her small room and sat down in front of the mirror. She reached for a glass of water when a knock came at the door.
"Yes?"
"Miss Salin, could I speak to you a minute?"
The voice surprised her; it was a woman's. She stood and opened the door and stared at a woman's bosom. She backed away from the door, looking up at the six-foot woman's smiling face.
"Don't worry, I shock a lotta people. I'm Mary Ann Krue- ger.
Virginia closed her open mouth and smiled. The tall Red Cross woman was beautiful and had a radiant face that beamed with friendliness.
Virginia put out her hand. "Despite what the club says, I'm Virginia, not Sophia.''
Mary Ann took her hand. "I'm sorry to bother you miss . . . I mean, Virginia, but I just have to know about the Ranger patch you're wearing. Do you know someone in the unit?"
Virginia looked down at her patch, "Yes, I met a sergeant a few weeks ago and ..." She looked up, seeing a strange look in the woman's eyes. "Do you know someone in the same unit, too?"
Mary Ann's lower lip quivered, but she quickly forced a weak smile.4 'Yes, I had a friend in the Rangers. I'm sorry for bothering you." She turned to go. "Thank you, I just wondered why ..."
"Mary Ann, please don't go."
Mary Ann stopped at the door and looked over her shoulder. "I'm sorry I barged in, but that Ranger patch just got to me."
Virginia motioned to a nearby chair. "Come on. Sit down and tell me about him. Maybe Matt knows him."
Mary Ann's eyes widened. "Sergeant Matt Wade?" she asked in a rush. "Matt is your friend?"
It was Virginia's turn to show surprise. Her mouth dropped in disbelief that this strange woman would know her sergeant and his unit so well. She stammered, "Ya . . . Yes, Matt and I are friends. In fact, I'm going to China Beach tomorrow to see him. He and the team got a three day R and R."
Mary Ann suddenly felt weak. She sat down and looked up at the small singer. "Did Matt ever mention Kenny Meeks? They call him 'Thumper.' "
Virginia smiled. "I've never heard of Kenny Meeks, but Matt says his closest friend in the company is a big bruiser named 'Thumper.' " Virginia couldn't help but grin at Mary Ann's expression, and she knew at that moment she was going to have a travelling partner to China Beach.
Chapter 16
25 September
J. D. Gibson ate another bite of his cold spaghetti lurp ration, then folded the bag and put it in his leg pocket. Cold spaghetti for breakfast wasn't the best meal in the world, he thought.
Sergeant Selando noticed the lieutenant putting away his food and held up a beef jerky stick. "Try one of these," he whispered.
Gibson took the dried meat with a nod of thanks and stood up. "Let's go."
The team moved back in the direction of the trail for 150 meters and came to a halt as Gibson held up his hand. The lieutenant motioned Selando up to him as the others knelt to wait for the two men to move forward and find a location for the ambush. One of them would stay and watch the trail while the other came back and brought the team up.
Gibson and the sergeant approached the trail cautiously and found a good spot by a steep embankment. Selando was about to go back for the others when Gibson suddenly grabbed him and fell to the ground. A Vietnamese soldier wearing a faded pith helmet and gray uniform began making his way down the embankment. Two more soldiers followed him. They were wearing shorts and carried large packs. All had slung AK-47 rifles. The lead soldier spoke over his shoulder and laughed as he lowered his head, watching his footing. Gibson gendy pushed off the safety of his CAR-15 and aimed his rifle. Selando raised his weapon and fired at the last man on the hill. The red tracer disappeared into the soldier's stomach and was followed by two more red burning streaks.
Gibson shot the first soldier and raised his weapon up for the second. The small Vietnamese fired his AK on full automatic and slipped. He fe
ll on his pack and slid down the hill, still shooting. Gibson's bullets stitched their way down to the man and struck him in the chest.
Sergeant Selando stood and made his way slowly forward as Gibson covered him. The rest of the team ran up behind the lieutenant, who, without taking his eyes from the steep bank, motioned them to secure the trail.
IWo of the Vietnamese were dead. The soldier Gibson had shot was gasping and had rolled over on his stomach and was trying to crawl up the bank. The back of his shirt was oozing bright red blood from the exit wound. Sergeant Selando kicked the AK away from his side and continued walking up the embankment to secure the top. Gibson stared at the pathetic sight of the crawling soldier and walked over to him. He rolled the man over and almost gagged. The bullet had passed through a lung, and pinkish bubbles-like those from a just-opened botde of champagne- oozed out of the bullet hole. The young soldier's face was turning dark blue and he was gasping for air. Gibson quickly took out the plastic lurp bag, dumped the remaining spaghetti, and placed the bag on the wound. Immediately the soldier took in a breath.
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