There was little street lighting. The neon signs of restaurants, bars, cafes and shops had all fallen to darkness over the last weeks. The abundance of housing crammed into each street should also flood the street with light, but those residents who remained shuttered their windows at night.
Tuấn led the way; keeping close to the walls. Lâm carried the assault rifle, its strap slung over his shoulder. Minh kept his main pistol in hand, the other in his belt. Thuỳ's weapon remained concealed.
Tuấn led them in the rough direction of the sounds of battle. They paused occasionally, squatting low, listening. There were infrequent sounds of machine gun fire and explosions, but it was distant and little to navigate by. He decided on heading north toward the airport- one of the obvious targets of any push to take Saigon. It was four miles away. He had no illusion about reaching it undetected. Hopefully there'd be a chance to do something useful before they got that far.
***
A sound like a truck engine revving had them ducking into shadows. Tuấn caught a glimpse of an armoured vehicle speeding through the next junction. In a moment it was gone. Then they were up and moving again.
The fine hair on his arms stood on end. He felt the same nervous excitement as on previous engagements. Did soldiers ever get used to it? The weight of fear in his stomach rather than lessened by their previous successes was accentuated by the added risk of venturing into the night. They were alone; no orders from above. Victory or disaster would depend on his decisions.
Pausing at the corner of the last building at each junction and side road, Tuấn would crouch, hold up his hand for the others to stop, and scan each intersecting road. Once he was satisfied it was safe they would scuttle forward; crouched like a line of scavenging beetles.
The sounds of fighting became gradually more pronounced. Muted explosions and automatic gunfire were heard almost continually. The blinking lights of helicopters remained a distant threat. Tuấn strained to see the time on his watch; it had been less than an hour since they'd left the workshop.
Rushing footfalls from a little further down the street caused the group to squat with weapons poised. Tuấn ducked into the alcove of shop doorway. A group of perhaps ten Vietnamese ran across the road; brandishing what he first thought were sticks, then noticing reflected moonlight he realised were knives and machetes. They disappeared down an alleyway.
He waited until the echo of their footfalls dissipated into the night before signalling the group to move on. Hurrying their pace. The scarcity of Chinese forces coupled with the nearing sounds of battle encouraged him; it was a race to victory. A culmination of their efforts. Then they saw the first bodies. Two men riddled with bullets; face down in the road like they'd been shot running. Passing the bodies, the group barely slowed. Whatever happened they'd missed it.
On nearing the river separating District 3 from District Phu Nhuan, a whistling like firework rockets repeatedly pierced the air; RPG's? Tuấn wondered. There were a damn lot of them being fired off. The explosions sounded distant, but gunfire; single shots and machinegun fire echoed through the street seemingly from several directions.
'We should be careful,' Lâm hissed, 'we have no cover. We could get caught here.'
'yeah,' Tuấn whispered. Squatting to consider the options. At the next junction was the road running parallel to the river dividing the two districts. He could see a distinct orange glow from the far side of the river- definitely where the action was. They could get a better look nearer the river. He waved them onward.
They stooped almost into a crawl as they approached the junction to the riverside road. Flashes lit the horizon. Tuấn felt exposed even at this distance. The boom of artillery caused windows on nearby buildings to rattle. The hydraulic hum of mechanized vehicles carried through the streets.
'Let’s get off the damn street!' Minh urged.
'Shut up!' Tuấn hissed, waving for them all to get down.
He crawled to the edge of the last building before the riverside. He steeled himself then peered around the corner. Across the river fires blazed from tower blocks. Flashes lit up small parts of the city as unseen missiles impacted. Tracer fire spat across the river from dozens of positions. Orange streaks arced through the sky. The tarmac under him shuddered from resounding boom of artillery.
He was transfixed by the horror. A flash nearby startled him; on the motorway bridge not forty metres away sat a large tank. Its great cannon aimed upwards at a 45-degree angle. The mighty gun belched, causing the beast to roll backward a small distance. Soldiers below the bridge on the riverside stood behind a wall of sandbags admiring the destruction through their binoculars. Someone tugged Tuấn's sleeve. Turning he saw Minh crouched next to him.
'Are we going to attack?' Minh said, his eyes fixed on the soldiers.
Tuấn glanced back around the corner. There were only four soldiers in sight, but voices indicated more on or around the bridge. Likely there were additional vehicles and troops on the road leading to the bridge, but obscured from his line of sight.
'No. It’s suicide,' Tuấn whispered.
'Then what?' Minh urged.
Sounds of the enemy were all about. If they moved even the way they came they'd probably be discovered. If they stayed it would only be a matter of time. Shadows weren't cover against bullets.
'Okay...' Tuấn muttered. He bit his lower lip unsure how to continue. He looked at his companions. Their expectant faces growing increasingly desperate. He cleared his throat. 'Okay. We're going to get to a rooftop. Get a better look.'
The buildings along the river were mostly residential; around five stories tall- a good vantage point. He waved his palm downward; signalling his comrades to stay low. ‘I’ll go first. Wait.’
He scurried around the corner and into the first doorway. A large iron grill covered the door; no good. If the next one was also barred he'd be too close to the enemy to risk a forced entry. He scuttled to the second house- not daring to glance at the nearby soldiers. The doorway was covered by an iron gate, but the lock was a broken twist of metal. Either it had been shot out or cut with bolt cutters. He pulled the gate. It groaned. Taking a deep breath, he counted to three and pulled the gate in open one swing. The hinges squealed. He froze. Wincing; expecting to hear a cry of alarm and feel the hail of bullets tearing through his flesh, but there was nothing.
He forced himself to look at the soldiers. They were unmoving, silhouetted against the orange glow from Phu Nhuan district- almost like a movie poster for a war film. He let out his breath and stepped onto the motorcycle ramp leading up to the double doorway. He reached for the door handle intending to test it. As his fingers touched it, the door accommodatingly creaked open. He pushed it wide. Inside was blackness.
It took a few moments to make out dark shapes and shadows cast by the furniture. Near the door lay a scattering of flip-flops and slippers. Motorcycle helmets were discarded on the floor although there were no motorbikes parked inside. Further into the room were outlines of a large table and some chairs. It looked deserted. He waved for his comrades to come.
The three rushed forward together. Tuấn tensed, he had intended them to follow one at a time. He scolded himself. Despite their tastes of combat this sort of amateurish behaviour was another indicator that they weren't anywhere near ready.
They rushed past him into the house; Minh, Thuỳ then Lâm. Tuấn stole a glance at the soldiers; ensuring they were still distracted before closing the door.
'you broke in fast,' Minh panted.
In the darkness, Tuấn could only make out the outline of each of his companions. Only a little moonlight leaked down from a skylight over the stairwell.
'The door and gate was busted. I think the place has been looted,' he whispered over the muted thuds and muffled explosions from across the river.
'I need to shit,' Minh muttered.
'Smells like someone already has,' Lâm whispered.
It was true; there was a repugnant odour choking t
he air. It was likely there were weeks of garbage and old food disgustingly fermenting in the dining area. One of the boys sniffed loudly.
'I think it's a dead body,' Lâm said. The big guy's dark form moved further into the room; kicking something that skidded across the floor. He swore under his breath.
With eyesight adjusting for the lack of light, Tuấn could make out what looked like a man sitting in an armchair near the back of the room.
'Sir?' Tuấn whispered.
'Who're you talking to?' Minh growled.
It was definitely a person in the chair. Tuấn swallowed. He inched forward. Unsure if it would be worse if the man were dead or alive. If only he'd thought to bring a torch. As he moved nearer he could see the head was tilted to one side.
'Hello?' Lâm said.
Again no answer. With a tinny click the mechanic was illuminated by the orange flame from his zippo.
Tuấn shielded his eyes from the light. Lâm cupped his hand around the flame. Creeping toward the armchair. The flame's glow sent cockroaches scurrying and cast long shadows across the floor. Stopping before the armchair, Lâm raised the zippo; splashing the armchair in a swathe of light.
The face looking back at them from the chair wasn't human. It was the face of a demon. Lâm cursed- dropping the zippo and casting the room back into darkness.
Tuấn raised his pistol. With his night-vision ruined, he could see only blackness. Someone let out a shriek. He wasn't sure if it was the demon, one of the others or even himself.
'Stop!' Lâm shouted.
The light flickered again. Lâm raised it back toward the armchair. The thing in the chair was bloated and ghastly white like a ghoul. Milky-white eyes bulged from their sockets. It’s mouth wide in a terrible grin, or scream. Skin and flesh around the face had either been torn off or rotten away. Tuấn looked away. Whoever it was, they'd been dead for weeks.
'Shee-it! Let’s get upstairs,' Minh coughed, covering his mouth and nose with the front of his t-shirt.
The group ascended the steps with Tuấn leading the way; pistol held at the ready between his sweaty palms. Ignoring the doorways on each floor, whether closed or ajar. They proceeded to the rooftop.
Rumbling engines, shouted commands and the rattle of gunfire gave them caution even from their elevated position. The rooftop was cluttered with potted plants, most of which had either wildly overgrown or died. A waist-high wall ran along the front and back of the rooftop. The right and left sides were covered by the walls of the adjacent buildings.
Keeping low Tuấn crept to the front side of the roof. He peered over; terrified that each inch of his head visible increased his chance of being shot. The soldiers by the river stood as before, looking across the river. The tank on the bridge was in fact one of two parked side by side. Each straddling two lanes of the highway. Some twenty metres ahead of the tanks soldiers had erected a blockade of sandbags across the bridge. Ten or more soldiers knelt or lay prone behind their improvised wall; training their weapons on Phu Nhuan district.
It looked like an assault had been attempted on the bridge. Wrecks of three cars smouldered on the highway. Indistinct shapes on the road could have been bodies of men shot down as they charged or fled. Rubble littered the street where the tanks had missed their mark; sending shells thudding into buildings lining the highway. Fires dotted the landscape as far as could be seen. Red tail lights from half a dozen helicopters blinked across the sky; their searchlights scanned the flaming cityscape. From one helicopter a steady stream of tracer fire showered into the city.
A thundering vibration rippled through the concrete. Instinctively Tuấn ducked. Even though he'd seen the shot from his peripheral vision, it took a moment to register that the tank was firing across the river and not at him. Peering back over the wall, he saw masonry crumbling from a building. Then a large portion of the exterior wall collapsed under its own wilting weight.
The second tank spat its own fury; the shell exploding at street level. Shattering a glass-fronted building; possibly a car showroom or fancy restaurant. They weren't shooting at military targets. They were trying to demolish as much of the district as they could. If there were any Vietnamese forces, they were pinned down or destroyed.
Tuấn looked back at his group, Thuỳ and Lâm were crouched near the centre of the rooftop. They stared at him; waiting for orders. Minh was at the rear of the building, looking over the wall to the street below.
'Hey, pssst!' Tuấn hissed.
Minh didn't react.
'Hey!'
Minh's head snapped around. He held his index finger over gritted teeth.
Tucking the pistol into his belt, Tuấn crawled across the dirty tiles. He felt a little ridiculous; he could probably walk on the roof unseen by the enemy, but with all going on around them it seemed perilous to try. Tiny stones bit into his palms as his hands slid over the flagstones. The skin of his knees agitated from scraping the rough stone slabs. He crawled to Minh who again held up his finger for silence.
'Shush. There's a bunch of guys creeping about below.'
‘That’s it then,’ Tuấn sighed. They blundered into a full scale battle; stuck behind enemy lines. He'd probably gotten them all killed. He clapped his hand on Minh's shoulder. ‘I’m sorry.’
Minh frowned, puzzled.
'We'll stay here and pray. If we move we'll be discovered,' Tuấn whispered.
'No.' Minh shook his head.
Tuấn admired his friend's fiery spirit. Minh turned out to be much stronger willed in combat than expected. Perhaps he should've been leader.
'Minh... We can’t fight our way out of here.'
'No, you don't understand. The guys below aren't Chinese. I think they're on our side.'
Zhang
23rd March, 22:00
He awoke with a start. Sitting bolt upright in his bunk wondering was it a dream? The second explosion had him leaping from bed; bursting from his billet in just his vest and underpants.
Soldiers ran to and fro. Already helicopters were rising into the sky to seek out the enemy. With thermal imaging they'd find and neutralize the threat in minutes. He spotted Major Hu shouting orders.
A shrill whistle cut through the night air. Not wanting to dive for cover in front of his superior, Zhang gritted his teeth and braced. The strike hit the road by the tents. The fireball engulfed one side of a tent. Burning fragments of material were scattered through the air.
The major barked instructions at the officers and NCO's; sending them running off on errands. One was sent to fetch a mobile radio. Another to ensure the battalion had initiated fire hazard protocols. The remaining officers were told to return to their units and prepare for battle readiness.
Zhang rushed back into the billet he shared with another Lieutenant. Pulling on trousers, boots and fastening his belt and gun holster around his waist. He rushed back outside- quick marching right up the major. Zhang stood to attention and saluted his senior officer.
‘Reporting for duty, sir.’
The major scowled at him for a moment, then nodded. The officer sent to fetch the radio returned along with a soldier carrying a large field radio on his back; its long antenna stretched some two metres above him.
‘Keep that radio close to me at all times,’ the Major growled.
Another fireball erupted somewhere beyond the helicopter hangars. The 4th battalion's APC's were parked in rows of three, with a gap wide enough to drive between each row. There were some twenty-seven APC's in the battalion- less any destroyed or in need of repair. Behind the APC's were tents for the crew. Behind those were the tents for the infantry; one tent for each squad of seven soldiers. Larger tents formed the back row; a canteen for each of the three companies, latrines and shower tents. Each battalion was completely self-contained so the soldiers had little reason to venture far. Soldiers strapped on bullet proof vests and helmets, and loaded weapons.
'Mount up!' the Major roared.
It was a good idea. APC's provided hard
cover. The enemy strikes were slow; over a minute apart, which indicated just one artillery piece. Zhang reasoned they were firing indirectly. If they had a direct line of sight or a spotter there'd be much more damage.
The major took the CB-radio headset from the soldier carrying the bulky transmitter. ‘Connect me with the 54th mechanized headquarters!’ he yelled into the microphone.
At least a half dozen attack helicopters circled the base. A couple more peeled away in search of their target. The major spoke with the Regimental Colonel, answering 'yes, sir.' His face was tense, angry, outraged even. The conversation was short. The Major threw down the headphones. 'One of our Z-1 attack helicopters has neutralized the artillery. But the Vietnamese are calling for a general uprising. Their military channels have come back to life. This isn't an isolated incident. It’s a full scale offensive!'
Zhang repressed a grin. The Vietnamese were coming out of hiding at last. He could fight the tiger rather than bother her cubs.
'It's not much of an assault if they only have one artillery piece,' the radio operator dared.
The Major scowled. 'The Colonel said all forward bases around Saigon reported attacks within the last five minutes. 2nd Battalion are to secure the perimeter here. We’re to head to Saigon while awaiting orders.'
The division quickly moved to action. Transport helicopters flew out crammed with soldiers to reinforce the forward bases. Major Hu snapped orders to the two senior Captains present.
Zhang clenched and unclenched his fists. Would he be denied a chance to fight? Infantry companies were ordered to move out under support of attack helicopters. The whole 54th Regiment was mobilised.
‘Sir!’ the radio operator interrupted the Major, ‘forward base three reports they are being overrun!’
‘What?’ Zhang blurted. Who knew the Vietnamese still had such a fight in them? It had to be a last roll of the die for them. Of their entire Navy only three submarines hadn't been accounted for. Nothing remained of their Air-force. Most of their army had slipped away with civilian refugees who overwhelmed the Cambodian border.
The March of the Dragons Page 27