Charlie Mike (1985), page 9
Meeks reached over Grady’s shoulder and grabbed the ruck. Grady had to submerge again to allow the pack to clear his head. They moved a few more feet, then froze. They could see the tops of Vietnamese heads on the bank. It was just a matter of time! They had to go, thought Grady as he slowly started climbing over the slimy trunk of the submerged tree. Thumper followed. In waist-deep water they moved southward, crouching down with only their heads and the green ruck above water. Five feet out. Ten feet. The water got deeper. They were able to stand and bend over. Twenty feet. Grady started moving in closer to the bank. It was only partially vegetated. They had to keep moving. The place where they’d been was full of their footprints. And of course they’d left a ruck. They’d have to keep moving south and hope they could pass by the campsite. It would be too risky trying to cross the river during daylight. They moved slowly. Behind them the sun was beginning to sink behind the mountains. Grady recognized details of the near bank from that afternoon. He began to feel more confident and moved more quickly. The dug-out portion of the bank where the men had drawn water was just ahead. Grady moved closer in and covered the path while Thumper passed behind him. The constant jabbering above was unnerving.
They kept moving. Then the bank farther down disappeared. Grady remembered the map. The entire area to the south was swampland. The NVA camp stretched to the edge of the last high ground before the river turned east about two kilometers down. Damn! He turned quickly toward the sun; there was still too much light to try and cross. They’d have to hole up till nightfall. Where? He looked back north. It was the only choice they had: the rock formation.
“This is an all-air show. I’ve shown you the exact location and how we’re gonna do it. I believe it’s a sound plan and, if executed correctly, it will maximize results. I can’t emphasize enough how important timing is.” Colven looked directly at the Air Force forward air controller (FAC) seated in the second seat on the aisle. “Tom, your fast movers have got to be on station and know what’s happening.”
The pilot spoke in a deep voice: “Sir, my people are ready. The jet jocks have already been chosen, and my boss is flying up to Da Nang tonight to brief them on your plan.”
Colven smiled. “Good.” He then turned toward the aviation battalion’s operations officer. “Anything you wanna add, Shelby?”
“I don’t, John. Looks good to me.”
“Okay, I can tell you’re ready. Remember, timing is the key. Gentlemen, that’s all I have. Lieutenant Sikes will brief you on commo freqs and checkpoint locations. Good luck and good huntin’.”
He walked down the aisle to the operations room, where Childs stood waiting. “What’d you think, Jerry? Should I have added anything?”
“Naw, the dumbshit prima donnas wouldn’t understand anything too technical. All they think of is pussy and killin’.”
“Damn, Jerry, you ever gonna cut these aviators any slack?”
Childs stared at his major for an instant. “Yeah, the same day you do. You know I don’t trust nobody but grunts, and they best be Airborne Ranger grunts.”
Colven took the sergeant’s arm affectionately and turned him toward the map. “Let’s go over it again, Jerry, and see if we missed anything.”
“Ya think they’re okay?”
“Sure, Ben, you know Grade.… Hey, what we eatin’ tonight?”
The brown face frowned. “Whacha mean, ‘we’?”
Rock smiled slyly. “Now, Ben, I know you carry more food than anybody.”
Sox, hearing them whisper, leaned over. “Really. I seen him pack his shit. That big dude is a walking grocery store.”
“Come on, guys. I’m bigger. I need a little more fuel, that’s all.”
Rock tapped Sox’s arm. “Whatta ya say we make a big mulligan stew tonight, ’cause Ben’s providin’ two Lurps”—he looked at Ben with a grin—“and we’ll all kick in one.”
“Two? Come on, Rock, it ain’t fair.”
They all reached for their food. Rodriguez, lying on the other side of Sox, saw the others reaching and did the same. Rock took out a large plastic Ziploc bag and poured in his freeze-dried meal. “Give me yours.” He held his hand out toward Sox.
“Whoa, man, hold it. What’d you just put in?”
“Chicken and rice.”
“Okay. That’s what I got too.” He handed the bag to Rock, who dumped it in.
Ben threw over two bags. “I hope you moochers is satisfied. My mama gonna hear ’bout this: You guys starvin’ her big, beautiful boy.”
Rock held up the two bags. “A beef and rice and a chicken and rice. Man, oh, man, this is chow. Okay, one to go. Pancho, where’s your meal?”
“Oh, wow, amigo, aquí está.” He handed Rock the bag.
Rock looked up, shocked. “Chili? No, man, we ain’t mixin’ up no Latino chow here. This is class!”
He pushed the bag back toward Rodriguez, and Sox nodded in agreement. “Yeah, Pancho, really. No south-of-the-border shit.”
The small man shrugged his shoulders. “Wow, man, I only got chilies.”
“No wonder you fart so much,” said Rock in disgust as he opened the chili pack and poured it in.
Sox watched in horror. “We gonna eat that, man?”
“Sure. Gimme some water. It’ll be all right if I add a little hot sauce.”
“No way. No hot sauce!”
“Yeah, Sox,” Ben said, “we gots to have hot sauce.”
“Not on my chow!”
“You eatin’ what we fixin’,” said Rock. “That’s the rule.”
“Ah, man, what a bummer.”
“What’s going on?”
Childs turned toward the voice and motioned toward the wall map. “Grady found a NVA base camp. Looks like he really got one up on you.”
Sergeant Stanley Evans’s partially camouflaged face showed concern as he stepped closer to the map. “They get out OK?”
“Yeah, he called in the location of the camp to X-ray and said he was gonna sky up.”
Evans relaxed his shoulders with a sigh of relief. “I’ll bet Grade volunteered for that mission. I’m gonna have to talk to that boy.”
Childs snickered, “Evans, don’t give me that shit. You know you would have jumped at the chance to get one up on the double deuce.”
“Oh, hell, Sarge, the two-four woulda found that camp an hour before showboat Grady!”
Hoi was trying to contain his excitement as he spoke to his squad members. They were listening and eating rice and vegetables by the quickly fading light. Earlier they’d all rehearsed their attack and cleaned their weapons. The next morning they would move into position. Hoi had just returned from a squad leaders’ meeting held by his platoon commander. Hoi’s squad would lead the attack. “An honor, bestowed for your hard efforts,” the lieutenant had said.
Hoi told his men of the following day’s schedule. “We rise at first light and pack. The platoon commander will inspect at oh-six-forty-five, and we depart at oh-seven-ten behind Third Squad. Tonight we can have small fires if we want. We also—”
A voice called from behind him. “Corporal Hoi!”
“Here, comrade.”
The platoon commander and sergeant walked up. “Corporal Hoi, we have a new order. I want you to move your camp closer to the river and fire pits. The commander wants hot rice for the men tomorrow. Your squad will keep the fires going at night. I don’t like doing this, Corporal, but it will not be bad duty. Only one man per shift is necessary to feed the fires and haul water for the cooks. You will still have time to sleep if you organize properly.”
Hoi stood. “Yes, comrade. My squad considers it an honor, but such honor might be shared with yet another squad to give us more time for preparation and sleep.”
The lieutenant smiled, then looked at the platoon sergeant. “He is a smart one, isn’t he? You are right. I’ll see to it that you share the mission with Corporal Dim’s squad.”
“Thank you, comrade Leader. Thank you.” Hoi’s men smiled among themselves. Hoi had done well to ease their burden.
“Meeks, let’s get out of here.” Grady began crawling; he felt rested and ready for the long night move and swim. They got abreast of the last large boulder, only fifteen yards from the river, when he saw lights approaching.
Grady backed up slowly, trying to get out of the glow of the torch. Thumper could easily see Grady silhouetted by the fire’s light and knew they’d have to retreat a long way to be safe. Back they crawled, ever so slowly, deeper and deeper into the protective darkness. They could hear more men coming. And someone was building a fire.
“We’re trapped, Meeks,” Grady whispered.
“What the hell, Sarge, couldn’t be helped. We just ran outta luck, that’s all.” They lay close in the darkness.
“I could call X-ray and tell ’em we’re here, and they’d call off whatever they got planned.”
“I hate to think these guys would get away.”
“Yeah, I know, but the way I see it, we only got two options. We can ride out whatever the major’s got planned or call in and tell X-ray we’re here; then they’d cancel their attack, and we’d have to wait till these guys leave.”
“What’s the chances of us stayin’ here and not gettin’ caught if we tell X-ray we’re here?”
Grady thought a minute. The ruck he’d left hadn’t been found yet, but the next day it surely would be, and so would the trail they’d made through the vines. “Not good,” he answered.
“Well, Sarge, I vote we take our chances with whatever they got comin’ in.”
Grady smiled, unseen in the darkness. “That’s my vote too.”
Hoi lay back on his pack, watching their small fire crackle and send its red and gold sparks upward into the night. He looked at the rock formation. A cold chill ran through his body. He brought his legs up to his chest and turned back toward the fire. I hope the fire doesn’t disturb the dragon’s sleep, he thought. He shut his eyes for a few seconds, then opened them quickly. He thought for a moment he could hear the creature breathing.
6
Colven sipped from his second cup of coffee while looking at the large map across from him. Bud Sikes walked into the brightly lit room and narrowed his eyes at the glare.
“Oh, sir, up already, huh? I just came in to confirm freqs one more time.” He walked toward the blackboard with the radio-frequency information.
Colven turned to his lieutenant. “Keep it under control, kid.”
Sikes looked up from his note pad. “Sir, you’ve got a good plan. It’s made for me. I’ll run it right, don’t worry.”
Colven stared at the young officer for a moment, then nodded. He knew the lieutenant could do it. The kid was cool as ice. He thrived on the confusion and excitement of others. Sikes and he were alike in that way. He, Colven, loved it when others let fear and excitement overtake them. He enjoyed confusion and panic. He felt most alive and best as a leader when he was calming the scared and directing the lost.
Sikes put away his pad and walked for the door. Colven watched him and spoke quietly. “Be careful, kid.”
Bud glanced over his shoulder and winked as he raised his hand and gave his major a thumbs-up.
Larry Wine was already at the Bird Dog. He had just topped off the wing tanks when the jeep’s headlights hit his aircraft. The Ranger lieutenant got out and walked quickly to the plane, carrying his survival bag. Wine thought about Bud Sikes and smiled to himself. The kid was good, but he had a definite weakness: snack food. That guy ate more cookies, candy, and crackers than anybody he’d ever met. Sikes scooted in behind him, put on his flight helmet, and sat down. He immediately plugged in his headset and depressed the floor transmit button.
“Larry, you got me okay?”
“Yep, you sound good. What’d you bring for us to eat, kid?”
“Us? Us? You fly-boys make more on your flight pay than I get in a year. And don’t call me ‘kid.’ The major is the only one who gets away with that!”
“Aw, now, kid, don’t get sensitive on me. Sit back and eat something while this fly-boy finds you the en-na-my!”
Grady had watched the blackness turn to gray. He tapped Meeks. “How many star clusters you got for your 79?”
“Two.”
“Good, I’m gonna crawl past you. We’re going to a small cave I found the last time I was here. It’s our only chance to ride out what’s comin’ ”
“X-ray, this is Two-Zero. Over.”
“This X-ray. Over.”
The small plane soared lazily over a bald hill. The tip of the brilliant orange sun was just peeping over the dark land. “You got commo with Double-Deuce for pickup?”
“Negative. We’ve had no commo since they said they was leavin’ the AO yesterday. Over.”
“Roger. Out.” Sikes didn’t like the sound of that. It meant Grady’s radio was on the blink. He’d have to assume they’d rejoined the others at the original insertion LZ. That was the standard procedure. He’d pick them up after the big ball game.
“Rebel Lead, Matador Lead, Blue Bird, this is Two-Zero. Y’all ready for the ball game? Over.”
“This is Rebel Lead. Roger, we’re inbound to checkpoint. Will arrive in two Mikes,” came the first reply.
“This is Matador Lead. Roger, we’re over you now,” came the second.
Larry Wine and Sikes instantly looked up, searching. A thousand feet above, the Cobras circled.
“Two-Zero, this is Blue Bird. I’m inbound and have a visual on you. Be advised I have a pair of Fast-Fours ten miles to the north, itchin’ to go. Over.”
“This is Two-Zero. All stations are advised ball game starts in five Mikes. Out.”
Private Nguyen Huong felt nature’s call. It was barely light as he swung from his hammock, placing his feet into his sandals. The river would be a good place to relieve himself, he thought as he got up and walked the four feet to the embankment. The huge upturned tree roots loomed out of the gray mist that rose from the slowly moving water. He jumped down, landing in the soft sand, and immediately unbuckled his pants, turned toward the bank, and squatted. His trousers had fallen halfway down, when suddenly he caught them and yanked them up quickly. “Sergeant Khue!” he yelled excitedly, “Sergeant Khue!” Seconds later the sergeant and several others stared down at the excited private and the American pack he had found.
Grady cut the last vine and pushed it back. He’d cleared an area in front of the cave opening so he and Meeks would have clear firing lanes if needed. He put the radio against the boulder and turned it on. “X-ray this is Double-Deuce. Over.”
“This is X-ray. Say hey, Double-Deuce, where have you been? The big boys been worried. Over.”
Sikes heard the whispered call from Grady to X-ray and immediately broke in: “Break, break! Double-Deuce this is Two-Zero.”
“This is Double-Deuce,” said Grady in a low whisper as he screwed the silencer into the pistol barrel.
“This is Two-Zero. Sit tight on the Lima Zulu until I get done with the ball game in thirty Mikes. Out.”
Grady quickly pressed the transmit bar. “Two-Zero, be advised we’re not on LZ, we’re in bad guy AO.…” Sikes felt like vomiting as he heard the rest of the whispered words. “… We couldn’t get out. We’ll mark location of eastern end of camp with 79 star cluster. Camp runs from river to the west for five hundred meters. Over.”
Sikes hit the floor button. “Negative! Negative! We’ll abort. Over.”
“No way, Two-Zero. We’re gonna open up anyway! They’re going to find us in ti ti time. You gotta come! You’re our only chance. We have a cave to protect us, so come on! We’ll mark when we hear you come in.”
Sikes cussed under his breath, knowing he had no choice. “Deuce, I’ll be coming in low down the river. Look for me: We’re coming in quiet.”
Grady understood. “Roger. Let me know when you’re close.
Sikes’s hands shook. He took a deep breath and depressed the floor button. “Double-Deuce, we’re comin’ in four Mikes. Out.”
Hoi squatted with his squad near the fire pits. They were all packed, waiting with Dim’s squad for the lieutenant to inspect them. One of Dim’s men rose and began walking toward the rock formation. Dim turned. “Where are you off to, comrade?”
The soldier smiled. “Nature is calling.” The others laughed as he walked quickly toward the boulders.
“You find a spot to get a flare through?” Grady whispered.
Thumper pointed to a small opening through the low canopy.
“That’ll—”
He suddenly stopped whispering, hearing someone approaching. A small soldier stepped high over the vegetation, looking to his left and right and walking directly at them. Grady slowly raised his pistol. The soldier stopped next to a small tree and unbuttoned his pants. He looked up at the strange boulders. As the warm fluid shot from his body he froze and the flow ceased instantly. His eyes widened only slightly when the bullet struck him just above the left brow, and his head snapped back. He fell heavily against the tree, then dropped as if he were a rag doll. Grady rose up slowly; there was no sound except for the voices of other soldiers talking farther away. He quickly looked around him, then spoke from the side of his mouth. “The shit has hit the fan.” The big man nodded and looked up at the opening.
Private Huong ran behind his sergeant toward the camp headquarters, holding the GI pack. Hoi stood as the men ran by, recognizing the sergeant from Third Company. The sergeant didn’t speak as he passed.
Corporal Dim yelled toward the rock formation. “Come on, Nhuan, the earth is wet enough!” The men laughed as Dim shrugged his shoulders at the smiling Hoi.
Bud Sikes leaned forward in his seat and looked down at the river. There was no other option but to follow their plan. He ran it over in his mind again for the hundredth time. The Bird Dog was to drop down and fly just above the river. The two Rebel Huey gunships would follow five hundred meters behind, and a thousand meters back, the Cobras would follow the Rebs at an altitude of a thousand feet. When the spotter plane got close to its target, it would shut off its engines and glide. The slow speed would allow the plane to bank over and drop white-phosphorous marking grenades. The Rebels would then swoop in and blow the top of the jungle canopy off with their rockets. The Snakes would then dive and fire fléchette rockets, eighty-five-pound missiles that explode and shower thousands of little finned nails over their target. The Air Force forward air controller would bring in his pair of F-4 fighter bombers once the gunships had made their last rocket runs to finish off the camp. The success of the plan had depended on his spotting the camp. Now it wouldn’t be a problem. Grady would mark it for him, poor bastard.
