Chapter 2: Heaven sent
Somehow I managed to drag myself through the grass and got closer to the mortar platoon. Despite my semi-conscious stupor, the reality of my nightmare was just beginning to hit home. Most of my Platoon just didn't exist anymore. Many had been ripped to pieces by artillery ammunition or executed by the Cong as they lay dying in the long grass. You could hear the little yellow men creeping through the woods, babbling and arguing amongst themselves. They sounded like evil children. They would call to each other when they found a live GI. Then they would kill him.
A few other guys had also made it to the mortar platoon. We were all in bad shape. One of my buddies had been hit in the stomach and was in great pain. He was screaming for a medic and when one didn't arrive, he pleaded with us to put him out of his misery.
But no-one had any medical supplies. No-one could move for fear of being shot at by the snipers and no-one would shoot him. It took him three hours to die. Several GIs shot themselves that day, rather than let themselves be captured alive by the Gooks. I had lost nearly all the friends I had in the world in the space of a few days.
I heard our big guns booming in the distance. It was only a protective fire, but it was enough to keep Charlie on the run. The mortar platoon had run out of ammunition and we would have been sitting ducks had the Cong stumbled upon us.
I lay there, in the baking sun, for the rest of the afternoon. I felt like a piece of raw meat that had been left to fester away on the ground. 'Nam was nothing but one big anthill and those little buggers had almost eaten me alive. I found a canteen of water nearby. The guy who it had belonged to must have been hit in the face, because the water was one-third blood. But I didn't mind. I passed it around.
A few helicopters tried landing in the LZ, about half a mile away. But whenever one came within 100 feet of the ground, so many machine guns would open up on him that it sounded like a training company at a machine gun range.
Then a couple of our Skyraiders flew over, dropping a load of antipersonnel charges somewhere not too far from where I lay. I watched, almost in a hypnotic state, as they fell from the sky, shimmering in the sun like green confetti. As they fell to the ground the little pieces exploded. I couldn't see the Gooks, but I could hear them screaming as they burned. A hundred men dead, just like that.
A few seconds later a patrol of GIs came into view, about 15 guys in a line. They were looking for wounded. Everyone started pawing towards them. It turned me into a babbling idiot. I grabbed one of the guys and wouldn't let go. They had four stretchers with them, and they took out the four worst wounded and all those who could walk. I was desperate to get out of there and I told the leader I could walk. But when the medic helped me to my feet, I passed out cold.
When I regained consciousness, they had gone. Word had been left that his patrol would be back in a few hours. I clung to this hope, but you didn't have to be a rocket scientist to work out they weren't coming back. I still had my hand grenade intact. I thought to myself that if Charlie found me, I wasn't going to let him kill me. I was sure I was going to die one way or another, but I really did not care anymore.
As I drifted back into a restless sleep, I hadn't realised that one medic had stayed behind.
When I woke up it was almost dusk. I realised that my boots had been cut from my feet and that I was covered in a blanket. Bandages had been applied to my wounds and a good bit of the blood and grime had been scraped from my face. There was some sort of tube sticking out of my arm. A pair of gentle hands lifted my head and gave me some fresh water to drink.
After I had gulped down the cool, refreshing water, I looked up to find a young, sandy-haired medic grinning broadly at me. His eyes twinkled with a cheeky glint and were full of life and gusto. I tried to speak, but my voice cracked up before I got passed the first word. He patted me reassuringly on the shoulder.
"Don't worry, Soldier," he said in a quiet, confident voice. "We'll soon get you out of here. Battalion HQ have got these co-ordinates locked down."
And then he was gone. For the first time in three days, I felt a ray of hope overwhelm me. I saw him flitting around in the growing shadows of the falling darkness. He worked relentlessly through the night, administering pain relief and checking our wounds. He bravely dodged the stray sniper bullets, which somehow still managed to find their way through the long grass. I was aware that he came to check on me at routine intervals.
Darkness soon devoured us. Now and then the flares would light up the skyline, giving some comfort. As long as there was some light, the Cong wouldn't try an all-out attack.
After probably the longest night of my life, the sky began to turn red and orange. There was complete silence everywhere now. Not even the birds started their usual singing. As the sun was coming up, everyone expected a human-wave charge by the NVA, and then a total massacre. We didn't know that the few Cong left from the battle had pulled out just before dawn.
Then I heard the grass swishing and the sounds of low whistling noises met my ears. Suddenly I saw them, as the 1st Sergeant, the Captain and two radio operators came into view. The Captain soon got round to where I was lying and asked me how I was. Trying to sound extra cool, I came out with the only thing I could think off.
"Sorry Sir, I lost my axe!" I croaked back.
"Don't worry, Baracus," he replied. "We'll get you another one."
As I was carried out on a stretcher, the carnage hit me. Hundreds of dead GIs and Cong littered the path back to the LZ. Sprinkled amongst them were the wounded. I also noticed that although most of the enemy snipers had been blown right out of the trees, some of those dudes were still just hanging there in a deathly silence.
I looked round for the medic who had risked his own life to save mine. But he seemed to have disappeared back to whatever God had sent him to us. I only wished I'd had the chance to thank him.
It was only later, whilst recovering in the field hospital, that I learnt his name was Lieutenant Fallone. His name would crop up many times during my Tour in the Country. It didn't surprise me when I heard he had been promoted to Captain. He turned out to be the best God-damn medic in 'Nam, even though his bravery and courage went largely unrecognised. Perhaps one day I'd find a way to repay him.
There is no doubt in my mind that he saved my life and the lives of my buddies, as we lay there dying on the ground of La Drang Valley.
[Short epilogue to follow.]
