There's a glossary as well as a translation thing at the bottom of the chapter if you wish to read and or clarify anything. If you don't fully understand something you can always ask in the reviews and I'll try my best to compile and answer it.
The streets were alive with celebration, US and South Vietnam flags hung from windows, cables running from building to building, it was like New Year came early. Inside a small open corner bar sat five marines, Staff Sergeant Davidson, Staff Sergeant Leonard, Corporal DeSau, Corporal Harris and 1st Lieutenant Elwington. They'd all been in country for around a month now and so far their Platoon, the 3rd Platoon of the 2nd Company 4th Marines, 3rd Marine Division, had done so far, fuck all, well their platoon at least their Platoon, the rest had taken part of Operation Starlite earlier that month which had been a pretty successful operation.
"I fold."
"Fold."
"Raise."
"Raise."
"I raise."
The table was pretty stacked, most of the 'chips,' which were simply bottle caps, were in Elwingtons pocket. Everyone thought it a little strange the notorious gambler, the man who swiped a full pot from a room full of officers back stateside, sat with was could be considered a losing streak, though he didn't show it. Harris had a poker face like no other, completely unreadable all the way down to his body language. On the outside he looked disinterested, completely slumped down in his chair, face blank and eyes half closed like he was about to fall asleep. Elwington on the other hand was what Harris would call, 'a downright sign, always visible and you always know what it's saying.'
The three players put in their caps, now it was time to show their hands. Davidson flipped over his cards, two pair, a smirk coming to his face, that was until Elwington flipped over his, four of a kind. "Fucking-" He held his tongue and sat back, crossing his arms. Harris looked at both and smirked, showing his to the table.
"Royal flush." A large evil shit eating grin washed over his face. Elwington groaned, pushing his caps to Harris and same with Davidson. "Thank you very much gentlemen! Now pay up, I think that was our last game." His smile didn't drop, it never dropped after their games, especially on a sweep like that. The four stood and sighed, going through their wallets and taking out 300 Dong each, "Thank you, thank you."
"Drinks are on you now jackass." DeSau smirked, sitting down with the other, Leonard scooping the caps off into a bucket that sat under the table. Fair fair, winner buys the drinks, maybe it was the spoils but really, it was just an easy way of getting someone else to buy you a drink with their money.
Harris stood, smile still plastered on his face, and made his way through the crowd of GI's and locals to the counter, "Tìm bia và mở một vòi." He flicked through the earnings before slapping them down on the bar top.
"Bạn đang ở với những người lính thủy quân lục chiến ở bàn trung tâm?" The barmen raised an eyebrow before turning and reaching into the icebox behind him, one of the women behind the counter giving Harris a wink and a smile that practically screamed 'fuck me GI.'
"Vâng, tại sao?" Harris leaned over, raising an eyebrow back. The barmen turning back and setting down five opened bottles of whatever pisswater this country called bear.
"Con trai tôi là một Ranger." He smiled, leaning on bench behind the bartop, nodding his head, "Tin nhắn cuối cùng tôi nhận được, anh ta nói rằng Thủy quân lục chiến đã đá đít trong cuộc hành quân đầu tiên của anh ta."
Harris smiled and nodded his head, "Thật đáng buồn là tôi đã không có mặt ở đó cho cái lớn đó nhưng hy vọng tôi sẽ gặp anh ấy sớm."
"Anh ta tên là Howe Bien, anh ta là Hạ sĩ hạng Nhất hoạt động ngoài Đông Hà." The barmen smiled and nodded his head, giving a nervous laugh. He looked, or more stared, at the money that Harris had left, hesitantly raising his hand as if to swipe it into the register but instead laid two fingers onto it and pushed it back towards him, "Your friends are welcome any time." His accent wasn't what you'd call thick but it had a big of something to it, Vietnamese and maybe some type of French to it. "Free of charge." He pushed himself off and walked away to some other GI.
Harris starred as he walked away before drawing his attention down to the stack of cash, Corporal First Class Howe Bien. The name firmly lodged itself in his head. He nodded and stuffed the money into his uniforms pocket before picking up the off brown bottles and making his way back towards the table.
The rumbling beneath their feet shook them to their core, the helicopter was moving towards what many thought would be their last day on Earth, today it was time.
Harris rubbed his thumb against his ring finger, his right hand clutching the wooden foregrip of the M1A1 Thompson leaning against his knee. He blinked one then twice, the first blink finally brought him back to the present. He turned his head to the other eight men in the UH-34, all were as green as him, half of his squad was here, the other half was in the other bird flying in front of them.
3rd Platoon consisted of around 50 men, give or take a few if they were on other duties or sick, but at the moment they had 45. In Harris's squad, Alpha, they had 20 men, eight of those men were a part of his fireteam, also known as Red Team or the Assault Team. The other half was the support by fire team, also known as Blue Team lead by Corporal DeSau and at the head of it all was the squad medic and Staff Sergeant Davidson, the Squad Leader.
Today's mission was fairly simple. They would be sent off into the highly mountainous and hilly jungle region not far from Da Nang, just next to the Laotian Border, according to Military Intelligence who'd been flying recon flights over that sector, the NLF had been operating in that region, recruiting villagers, building tunnels and harassing the US bases in the area. The overall objective was, "Search and Destroy," find anything that could help the north and the NLF and eliminate it, along with drawing out the NLF and destroying them if possible.
Harris laid his head back against the wall of the helicopter, the vibrations shaking his whole body as he leaned into it, the noise of the engine filling his ears.
It was pretty quickly that the helicopter began to slow down, the whole situation feeling off Harris opened his eyes and turned to look out the window of the door, seeing they were descending he got a pretty good look at their AO, Hilly, mountainous fucking Jungle. He turned to his fireteam, "We're coming in now! As soon as we drop, spread out and get on your face! Wait for contact and wait for orders from the Sergeant! Got it!?" A collective 'OORAH' came from the soldiers, all checking their gear.
As they were about 20 meters from the deck, Harris stood, slinging his Thompson, and moved to the door, grabbing hold of the latch and pulling it across, the roar of the helicopter's engines filled the compartment. He knelt down, unslinging his Thompson and tucked the stock into his armpit, waiting for the bird to touch down. The tall grass they were landing in fanned out all around as the UH-34 came down, some of it tearing from the tops and sent flying into the trees, and speaking off them they were swaying like crazy. The landing zone wasn't exactly big so two birds at a time would come in and land before the other two holding Bravo and Platoon would come in.
Finally, the low thump of the aircraft landing caused Harris and the others to jolt forward slightly and without second thought, he sprung out, dropping into the tall grass shouting, "DISMOUNT!"
Red team piled out after him, fanning out from the helicopter which sat idle, Harris having to stand up and wait till the full dismount to give the pilot the thumbs up before he took off, the choppers engines whirling and winding as it moved away, the others close behind beginning to come in.
"Red team! Move to the tree line! Secure the LZ!" Harris yelled, pointing towards a particularly good area to set up. Red quickly came to their feet and moved through the tall grass, SPC/4 Beckett, the Machine Gunner, ended up tripping over a root that was hidden in the tall grass, almost smashing his face against his M1919 before quickly getting up and setting up on a large fallen tree, the others setting up around and stationing themselves around their own trees, facing in separate directions.
It wasn't until the last two birds came down with Bravo and Platoon dismounting did anything of note happen. Bravo was sent to the other side of the LZ, watching their West, leadership was grabbed and pulled into platoon for a quick brief. Alpha was to be sent up into the East where it was relatively flat for the most part, they would be hunting for NLF hiding in villages, tunnels and supply caches, Bravo was to be sent West, same objectives. They split off and briefed their teams before heading out into the jungle.
"Halt!" The order came up front and then down the line, Alpha breaking off the track they were on and watching different directions. Harris stared up into the canopy above, the light from the sun shining down onto them. Thank fuck they were walking through paddies yet, sun was almost burning a hole through his helmet even under these trees. He licked his lips and reached into his webbing, grabbing the small cap of Red Star balm from his 'accessory' pouch.
"Harris!" A whisper came from his right, drawing his attention, "Could you-" Donahue nodded to the red capped lip balm he had in his hand. Harris nodded before clamping the small case between his palms and twisting, popping the cap and dabbing a pinkie into it, lathering his lips before passing it carefully to the PV2, doing the same, "Thanks." He nodded before handing it back, copying Harris's movements.
"Corp, how long we gonna' sit here?" Foreshire called from behind, Harris looking over his shoulder.
"Until we're told to move, just fucking relax." He shook his head and turned back, picking up his Thompson, resting the grip on his thigh.
All around the jungle seemed to close in. Harris's eyes darted around, analysing everything, every little movement, every angle of attack, every bit of cover. Geovanna had said he overthought everything whenever they went out, maybe it was because whenever they did they always got jumped by whoever Tom-Dick-and-Harry was on the prowl that day, but it always came in handy, especially in school.
He turned his head towards Davidson who was at the head, hunched over a map, he was fucking lost wasn't he. Harris turned back to his team, "Get down and stay low. Beckett, Shaffer, set up somewhere you can adjust easily." Red did as they were told.
Harris stayed low as he made his way to the front, only a few steps but it felt like a mile, "Sarge, what's going on?"
Davidson turned to Harris, sighing as he looked back to his map, "We were supposed to have hit a village about 10 minutes ago but now I'm thinking we should have taken a right at that junction." Owen, the squads Radioman, looked puzzled at his own map. You'd think being an RTO they'd teach you how to read a fucking map. Harris reached over, holding out his hand to Owen who without second thought gave him the map, self confidence much.
He turned it around and reached into his top left hand pocket, taking out his compass, sitting both on the ground. As he stared at the map, a mosquito dared sit itself on the back of his neck, little commie blood sucker got a firm smack as it dare stand upon the USMC Corporal Harris.
"Right… Yeah we took a wrong turn at the junction. We can keep going up maybe 300 meters and break off to the right at the next, then again break right at this path here. We loop around and go to that village which actually could fuck around Charlie or any of the villagers who wouldn't think to hide anything if they're with the NLF." Harris looked up to Davidson who looked to have sparked up a bit, nodding.
"Right, go back to your fireteam, prep to move." Davidson shoved his map into his shirt as he gave the order, Harris handing back Owen's map before he pissed off down the line still holding his compass, instructing Red they were moving out.
The squad stood on command and began heading out, Harris taking his spot at the front of Red, fuck this thing was starting to get heavy now, and his boots were really starting to kill him, should have packed double.
As they continued down the trail the insistent buzzing of bugs, chirping and calls of birds as well at the absolute stillness of the jungle was beginning to unnerve the squad. They'd began to move towards the village from the suspected direction of any NLF. It wasn't a bad plan if you think about it. Most likely the NLF would have set up further towards the East so any movement from this area would either sharpen up the villagers or get them to relax. Of course, not everything goes to plan.
The squad was stopped once again. They had to swing back up the way they came, apparently Bravo was now on the path they were meant to be on and had already breezed through the village. According to Staff Sergeant Leonard they'd found nothing but dead ends and chose to spin around and come to help them, looks like the maps were also a bit out of date because that village no longer existed, but it did look like someone had been there recently.
Harris sighed and reached back and grabbed his canteen along with the OD green towel that hung above his left ass cheek and wiped down his face, Jesus it was already soaking fucking wet. Unscrewing the cap and taking a swig, he felt the log he was on shift slightly, SPC/4 Lions had decided he wanted a break from all that leg shit too, leaning the M79 Grenade launcher against the log, copying Harris's motions. "Why are we stopped?"
"Maps are wrong."
"What?"
"Maps are wrong." Harris looked at Lions with raised eyebrows, an unsurprised and frankly annoyed look resting on his face. Lions looked like he was about to say something but chose to stow it, sighing and unscrewing his canteen.
Harris sat there for a moment, staring at nothing in particular, maybe the lady bug that was currently crawling across a leaf but really nothing. He turned his head and opened his mouth and at that moment-
HISS
CRACK
BANG
Lions's head snapped back and his helmet which was hanging unstrapped on his head flung forward, the rear lip of the helmet has been hit sending it flying. Harris's eyes went wide as blood sprayed on his face and uniform, the bullet had hit him at an angle, going from one side of his face and out the other, blowing a large hole through his head.
At that moment the line of trees Harris had been looking at lit up, muzzle flashes, gas bursts, bullets whizzed and cracked in every direction. The whole squad dropped what they were doing and returned fire. Harris ducked back over the log, the strap of his Thompson caught by his foot as he rolled back, his helmet came tumbling off as he landed.
"CONTACT LEFT! RETURN FIRE!" Someone yelled, the 1919 opening up onto the shrub, Harris rushed to his knees and grabbed his Thompson, bracing against the log and opened up, forget conserving ammo. He held down the trigger, the wooden stock slamming into his shoulder with each .45 fire from the submachine gun in his hands.
A bullet clipped the large tree next to him, sending bits of brass and splinters into his cheek. He watched as Valga, Donahue and Kanowski opened up with their M14's, attempting to hit anything, Beckett sprayed with his 1919, doing much of the same.
Harris ducked down, hitting the mag release with his thumb, the empty box falling into the dirt beneath him, his hand finding the mag pouch on his hip and taking out another, sliding it in and pulling back the charging handle before getting back up and opening fire.
It took a second for the words to finally hit him, "CEASE FIRE!" he let off the trigger and called it down, the order being rolled down the line until everyone had stopped firing.
Cordite hung in the air from all the spent ammo, steam rose from the vented barrel of the 1919, not a bird call, but the bugs were still there. Heavy breathing all around, holy fuck that was intense. Harris looked around, picking up his blooding helmet he stopped and stared, did I get hit? No.
He snapped over to Lions, slumped backwards over the log, his legs hanging over the top whilst the rest of his body lay on the ground, arms above his head. The bullet had hit him in the cheek, just below his left eye which had rolled back into his head leaving a gaping hole where it used to be. Harris's breathing fastened, his heart slammed against his ribcage and the only thing that he could think to yell, "CORPSMEN!"
Translations:
"Fives beers and open a tap"
"You're with those Marines in the centre table?"
"Yeah why?"
"My son is a Ranger. Last message I got he said the Marines kicked ass on his first operation."
"Well sadly I wasn't there for that big one but hopefully I'll run into him soon."
"His name is Howe Bien, he's a Corporal First Class operating out of Dong Ha."
Glossary:-
- UH-34D: Early in the Vietnam war the US Marine utilised the UH-34D helicopter. It was relatively sturdy in its construction and was used also by ARVN forces as well as MACV-SOG and other Special operations units of the US Army due to its overall manoeuvrability and agility. However it had a devastating fault, the fuselage was lined with a magnesium coating which made it lighter however when hit by an RPG or incendiary ammunition would cause an inescapable fire. Larry Thorne or Lauri Törni actually died in this aircraft on the 18th of October 1965 after the helicopter crashed.
- National Liberation Front (NLF): The NLF or more commonly known as, The Viet-Cong, was the guerrilla arm of the People's Army of Vietnam (PAVN). Inside the NLF there were two sides, the professionally trained fighters which would come down from the North to help train others or conduct Guerrilla warfare against the South and the more untrained rurals who were given rifles and often told to "fight against their oppressors."
- Search and Destroy: Search and Destroy missions were the most common missions conducted by American, Australian, ARVN and other coalition forces sent to South Vietnam. Ranging from Cache destruction to drawing out the enemy for a fire. These often ended with casualties on both sides.
- RTO: Radio Telephone Operator or Radioman.
- LZ: Landing Zone.
- Bird: Bird is a common military term for a helicopter.
A pretty loaded chapter. I've attempted to give a contrast to the war. The relatively calm nature to the cities and more or less, 'on leave' area of Vietnam contrasted to the field, walking and sudden contact with often fatal outcomes. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter, more to come soon.