A Farmer's Courage II: Vietnam 67'
Chapter 1: The Arrival
(Letter from Home)
Dear: Jack
Why didn't you tell me of your departure last night? It's alright for you to wake me up, and told me about this! The next morning I was panicked by your disappearance. Knowing this, Karen and Rick had decided to help us for a while; the Harvest Sprites were willing to help as well. Jack, all I want to tell you is to be careful out there. I've seen how terrible the war was over there through our new television. Your son and I will be waiting for you over here, at Mineral Town.
Love,
Ann
(Back to Jack)
I glimpse at the scenery outside of the Hercules Heavy Cargo plane transporting me and a few other soldiers. Once I arrived at the States, I was transferred at once to Nam. Although I was hoping for a day rest at the States, I got mine at this metal crap flying over the Pacific. Not to mention the storm we're facing which gives quite a bumpy ride. We stop by Okinawa to refuel and get ourselves some chow before heading towards Vietnam.
"Lieutenant!" I turn my head to find a thin, shaved, soldier calling me.
"Yeah?"
"Your first time in Nam?" I nod my head.
"How'd you know?"
"You seemed tense since the beginning of this flight!" Ooh
"What's your name?"
"Mike, Mike Kowalski; Private. And you are?"
"Jack, Jack Harvest; Lieutenant."
"Nice to know you LT!"
"LT?"
"Short for Lieutenant!"
"Oh….."
We sat in the Chinook in silence until the pilot calls all of us from his cockpit.
"Yo! You guys back there!" I turn my head towards the pilot calling from his cockpit.
"5 minutes towards target! Get your stuff ready!"
We arrive at Saigon airport at sunrise on Spring 5, 1967. It was no surprise that the whole airfield is field with U.S military aircrafts such as the U.S Hercules Transport plane (replacing the old C-47 from service), the new F-4 Phantom Fighter-Bomber that turned popular recently, the A-7 Corsair, a reliable jet fighter that aren't as popular as the Phantom, the ACH-47 Chinook heavy transport chopper, and lots of UH-1 transport chopper, the workhorse in Nam as most soldiers I heard says. Some of the UH-1 has been revised into assault helicopters, rivaling the AH-1 Super Cobra which is here in the airfield as well. As the ramp on the back of the Hercules drops, a Captain appears to us, greeting us.
"Alright, listen up! I want each of you soldiers to head to your designated helicopter to be transported to your chopper AT ONCE! GO!"
We walk down the ramp down to the concrete field. As we head to our helicopter, the Captain calls us.
"Four of you! Follow me!" The captain points the four of us. I know Kowalski, but I don't know the rest of the two.
As we follow the Captain, a few soldiers who have been service in Vietnam walk pass us, heading towards the Hercules Transport craft to be returned home.
"Welcome to Nam mother fuckers! You're gonna' love the shit out here!" A grunt greets us, with unpleasing words.
"Who you're calling mother fucker, mother fucker?" One of the four of us answers him; playing tough.
"Oh, you wanna fight eh, neger?"
"Who you're callingneger you shit!"
"You neger! That's you I'm talking too!" The black guy pulls out his knife from his boots, while the American pulls out his Colt M1911A1 pistol. This will get nasty if somebody don't stop them.
"Whoa, hold it! Hold it! We wouldn't want any bloodshed in here, do we?" I step up to the scene, hoping to stop the fight before things would get worse.
"This none of you're business private! Now get your fucking ass out of my way before I shoot YOU, and the NEGER!" I point at my rank stiched on my uniform, confirming him.
"Oh, sorry Lieutenant……I didn't mean it!" He holsters back his pistol to his holster. As the black guy, he places his knife back to his boots.
"Now you move along before I report you to HQ for you to be sent back to the front! Now MOVE!" He salutes me and dash towards his friends, leaving the scene. I sigh in relief, and continue following the Captain.
"You got one leadership over there Lieutenant! You would make yourself a good leader in your squad!"
"Thanks Captain." As we continue, the black guy taps me on my back.
"Hey, thanks over there Lieutenant! He could've blown my black ass back there!" He smile, thanking me.
"No problem. What's your name?"
"Perry, Richard Perry; Private. And you?"
"Jack, Jack Harvest; LT."
"Nice to meet you Lieutenant! It's the first time for me to be friends with white guys in the military. Back home, we were discriminated!"
"You were….."
"Discriminated? Yeah, we were."
"Ooh….." Discrimination rarely happens in Mineral Island. So it's quite a surprise for me.
We follow the captain until we reach a tent. The medium, olive drab tent was an assignment registration tent (where new arrivals register themselves and got assigned). The Captain lines us up for the registration. Kowalski was first in line.
"Name?" The guy with the MP helmet and a clipboard questions Kowalski for his bio-data.
"Kowalski, Mike"
"Age?"
"28"
"Country?"
"U.S."
"State?"
"California."
"Married?"
"Engaged, but canceled."
"Early Profession?"
"Criminal."
"In?"
"Murder, drug dealing, and provocation."
"Rank?"
"Private."
"Thank you Kowalski; you will be assigned to Hill 538, or "Ghost Town" so do the soldiers here speaks. You will be placed on the U.S Third Battalion, and will do assignments just what your commander ordered you. Your chopper's serial will be 225, leaving at 0630. Grab your gears, and wait for further orders." The MP records his data and places it in a stack, and grabs another one.
"Name?"
"Perry, Richard."
"Age?"
"32"
"Country?"
"U.S"
"State?"
"Chicago."
"Married?"
"Yes."
"Kids?"
"A son and a daughter."
"Early Profession?"
"Criminal."
"In?"
"Rape, robbery, and murder."
"Rank?"
"Private."
Thank you Perry; you will be assigned to Hill 538, or "Ghost Town". You will be placed on the U.S Third Battalion, and will do assignments just what your commander ordered you. Your chopper's serial will be 225, leaving at 0630. Grab your gears, and wait for further orders." The MP guy does the same thing to Perry's paper. Only he stacks it in a different stack. The next guy in line came forward.
"Name?"
"Hawkins, Steve."
"Age?"
"25"
"Country?"
"U.S."
"State?"
"Colorado."
"Married?"
"No."
"Early Profession?"
"None."
"Rank?"
"Sergeant first Class."
Thank you Hawkins; according to your personal data here, you're the highest achieving recruit in your group with a score 8 on explosives, 8 on weapons training, 9 on obstacle course, 7 on Heavy weapons training, and a 6 on driving test. You have been a drill sergeant back at the States, drilling recruits. Excellent! Welcome to the SF (Special Forces) Hawkins! You just won yourself a one way ticket to hell! You will be assigned to Nui Pek Hill, and will be replacing a KIA Sergeant. Your chopper's serial will be 186, and leaves at 0900. In the mean time, enjoy yourself in Saigon; a sergeant will take you there. DON'T BE LATE!"
"Thank you sir!" What one lucky bastard.
"Next!" I walk up towards the desk. I was last in line
"Name?"
"Harvest, Jack."
"Where the hell did you get your back name?"
"Family name Sir."
"Okay…….age?"
"25"
"Country?"
"Britain."
"Britain? How come you speak clear American-English?"
"My mother was a British, while my father's an American.
"Okay……town, city?"
"Precisely an island sir."
"Okay…what is it?"
"Mineral Island."
"City?"
"More likely a town…."
"Whatever! Just spit it!"
"Mineral Town."
"Early Profession?"
"Farmer."
"Rank?"
"1st Lieutenant." The MP stares at me, surprised.
"Excuse me?"
"1st Lieutenant."
"WHAT THE FUCK! How come? Guys that went here usually privates, corporals, and sergeants! Lieutenants should've been in the field right now! What are you? Sent back to the States and re-registered?"
"No."
"Then how the hell you got the rank?"
"Back in World War II sir."
"Okay…..that's reasonable…..wait…..how come you're still 25? You should've been forty, right now! And how come you re-registered? In your data here, you should've been discharged respectively!"
"In my Island, the Harvest Goddess gives us Elixir of Life every goddess festival, which decreases our age by 1; that is, if you join the festival. And for the registration question, I volunteered."
"Ooh…." He records my data and place the sheet on the stack with Kowalski's paper. Perry's paper was separated from ours.
"Thank you 'Harvest'."
"Call me Jack. I like that call better."
"As you say…….Thank you Jack; although you are a Lieutenant, you will be assigned to Hill 538, or…
"Ghost Town…..I know."
Right…….your division will be….
"The U.S Third Battalion……."
"Okay……your chopper serial will be….
"225."
"Will you stop interrupting Lieutenant? I could ask High Command to bust you down to Private!"
"Sorry sir."
"You will be leaving at 0630. Grab your gears, and wait for further orders."
Waiting were no problem to me. In a matter of 30 min, I have known Kowalski's and Perry's background pretty well. Kowalski is a criminal back at the States that was supposed to be sentenced to death because of drug dealing, murder, and the provocation between families. Perry, however only wishes to power up his family, but ended up on raping, and murdering the victim. Not to mention, he was caught red handed carrying the stolen goodies. 30 min have pasts, and I'm now in a chopper hovering above the dense jungle of Vietnam, heading towards "Ghost Town", with two ex-criminals! Although the trip only takes 2-3 hour (not included refueling on Pleiku base camp), it's not a boring trip after all. In the way, we talk more about our families, friends, and our previous lives.
"2 minutes to "Ghost Town"! Get your stuff ready!" The pilot in the cockpit calls us.
"Hey you guys up in the front; How much longer?" Perry calls in, with inpatient looks.
"Not long now..."
"Is that it?" I point over the horizon.
"Yup, that's it! Welcome to Ghost Town!"
Ghost Town was a medium sized U.S base surrounded with dense jungle, fences, and guard towers. From the chopper, I could see men in the shooting range, G.Is marching, training, and doing pushups and all those other stuffs. The helipad could fit 1-2 UH-1 Helicopters; or Huey as the guys call it. Around the perimeter, there were trenches used by U.S soldiers incase an attack occurred. The structure that I did not recognize is a small hut behind the base. An MP guards a fence leading towards the hut.
"Okay, we're here! Get your stuff ready!" The pilot lands the chopper at the Helipad.
"Right, thanks guys!" I thank them for the lift.
"No problem! Just be careful out there G.Is!" After he says that, the chopper flies off to somewhere I don't know.
"So…….what is we supposed to do now, LT?" Kowalski. He's asking the wrong guy……
"Yeah……what are we doing here anyway?" Perry also doesn't know what to do.
"I don't know…….."
"Yo! Newbie's!" An MP calls the three of us.
"You supposed to report to the T.O.C bunker, and tell the Captain you have arrived. Don't waste your time now; the Captain is a bit pissed since he lost in a chest fight last night."
"Sorry…..but…..which one is the T.O.C bunker?"
"You guys don't know? (Damn newbie) It's the one with the U.S flag on it! You won't miss it!"
"Alright, thanks." I thank him and heads for the bunker.
"Hey, LT." Kowalski taps me on the shoulder.
"Yeah?"
"Is it just me, or is that guy was just talking about how shit newbies are?"
"Yeah…….think I heard that too Lieutenant!" Perry.
"Nawh, maybe it's just your imagination."
"Maybe……"
We walk over to the T.O.C (Tactical Operation Center) bunker and were greeted by the Captain's unpleasant greeting.
"Where the hell were you assholes from?"
"We've just arrived, sir."
"Bull shit! Nothing makes me more piss than soldiers who make fucking stupid excuses! Any other excuses Lieutenant?"
"No sir….."
"Good! Now all of you piece of crap better report to the PX to grab your weapons. You got your first duty to assist our recent patrol squad."
"Yes sir." The three of us salutes and leaves the bunker.
"Oh, one more thing sir."
"What is it Lieutenant? Don't give me fucking lame excuses, I don't need them now."
"I just want to ask you sir."
"What is it?"
"The hut behind the base, what is it?"
"Oh, that? That's the boom-boom house, where you spend all your chits (money/tickets) on one of mama san's whores. You need a pass to get through the fence, Deuce sells those; he usually hangs around the chopper's fuel dump, by the Helipad." Damn, this Captain knows lot of things around here!
"Thank you sir."
We walk over to the PX (which just 2 feet away from the T.O.C bunker) to get our stuff for the jungle patrol. A G.I was there also to get an extra M-60, nicknamed 'The Pig'.
"Please buddy! We really need 'The Pig'! Our squad was cut down on each patrol since we're only armed with assault rifles and sub-machineguns!" The soldier begs for his pass to grab the M-60.
"Sorry men, I can't do that! We're running low on M-60 and the belt rounds. New supplies of those would be coming in 2 weeks or so…." The black officer answers him.
"But please! We need it for TONIGHT! I can't risk anymore of my men out there without heavy fire support!"
"I'll try to talk to the Captain. In the meantime, would you step aside bro? Got some guys waiting back there!"
The soldier (appears to be a sergeant) steps aside and leaves the PX cursing about black men and the MP. We step up to the guy and ask for the equipments. He nods and hands us a canteen, a pair of extra boots, types of magazine pouches, acoltM1911A1 pistol with 7 extra magazine, a pistol holster, insect repellant, a black raincoat (cheapies), a Medkit, a cleaning kit (use for cleaning weapons), a helmet, a small oil container (with oil), a flak jacket, and a military rucksack.
"Okay……here are your gears………, and here's your pass to grab weapons over by the shooting range……"
"Free choice?" Kowalski
"Free choice. Most guys pick the assault rifle; but hey, it's a free choice, and there's even a bunch of weapon variety!"
"So……..I can go and pick 'The Pig'….?" The black G.I stares at Kowalski, confused.
"Give me your pass……" Kowalski hands his pass.
"Now, you can only pick weapons of MY choice UNTIL you realize your mistake! This time, you will use the M-14….."
"But….."
"No buts! You want 'The Pig', I can't give 'The Pig'. So, I'll take away your free choice! Make sure Sergeant Patterson sees this pass. Otherwise, you will be placed on midnight missions, whom you probably won't like."
"Damn……." We walk away from the PX for a few feet, until I remembered to ask him something extra. I run back to the PX, leaving Kowalski and Perry at the firing range.
"You're back again eh? What do you want now?" Once again, I was greeted by the black G.I.
"Can I ask for an extra pistol holster?"
"Say what?"
"AN EXTRA PISTOL HOLSTER!"
"What are you gonna' use it for? You really won't need it……would ya?" The G.I asks in confusion.
"I'll use it for something……" He hands me the extra pistol holster.
"Don't play cowboy out there G.I! You'll regret it!"
"Oh, one more thing..."
"What?"
"Can I have an extra M1911A1 pistol with extra 7 magazine?"
"Aw man, this guy's nuts!" He search for an extra M1911 pistol and hands it to me.
"Thanks!"
I continue heading towards the firing range, where Kowalski and Perry awaits me. They probably got their guns right now……
"Hustle up LT; the chopper's about to leave!" Oh shit!
I ran to the firing range to find the sergeant coaching new recruits with the M1-Carbine. I better hustle up and grab my gun.
"You gotta' AIM before you shoot!"
"Excuse me, Sergeant Patterson?" I tap him by the shoulder.
"Yeah, what is it?"
"I need to grab myself a gun for a patrol. You got some choices, or advices?" I show him the pass. He nods.
"Come here kid…….Keep practicing over there losers!" He led me to a store house in the firing range. It's magnificent to see all sorts of weapons inside, arranged, and well organized.
"Go ahead, pick the one you like…….eh…….Lieutenant. Sorry for my attitude at the beginning." The sergeant salutes, asking for forgiveness.
"Nawh, that's alright. Okay………lets see……" I scan over the shelves and the rows of guns, pistols, Sub-machineguns, Machine guns (only one M-60 left), rifles, assault rifles, grenades, and grenade launchers. I don't recognize most of them new guns.
"What's this one? An improvised version of the M1 Garand?" I point over at a rifle that looks almost like the Garand; with the addition of a magazine clip.
"That's the new M-14 Rifle. Although it isn't as popular as it is now, it's still a reliable rifle." I nod and continue scanning the shelves.
"Hey……, Rick's invention on the sniper version of the M1 Garand WAS adopted by the U.S after all."
"You know that guy? Rick Burton? Yeah, he's the guy who invents this sniper rifle back at 1944. It gotten popular recently….."
"Oh……." I nod and continue scanning the shelfs.
"Is this the U.S version of the German MP-40?" I pick up the greasy gun and held it up high, aiming.
"No, that's the U.S version of the British Sten gun; the U.S M3, or more known as the 'Grease Gun'. That gun is one of my old time favorites. Light, accurate, and reliable……."
"Reliable?" I interrupt the sergeant's explanation.
"Yeah; reliable, an accurate weapon. That baby could work in any kind of harsh terrains or conditions! Gain popularity in the Pacific back at World War II."
"Interesting……." Once again, I browse around for my piece. The silenced Sten gun can be spotted in here as well.
"Isn't this the STG 15?" I held up the rifle.
"No Lieutenant; that's the new M 16 rifle, developed after the AR 15 rifle……"
"So it is the STG 15…..I've seen how this gun's poor performance in the outdoors. It jammed mostly in unfortunate situations… " The sergeant looks in confusion. What's wrong?
"Eh……are you sure you're new here in Nam Lieutenant? How do you know about the gun's problem? And what the heck is the STG 15? That thing is the M 16! How can……"
"Shut up, Sergeant; got Thompson?" He nods and grabs the M1A1 Thompson from the shelves.
"How about try using the 'Grease Gun' this time Lieutenant? You won't regret it! Besides, it's lighter than the Thompson." I pause for a moment, thinking of his suggestion.
"Alright, I'll take it. Where's the 'Grease Gun'?" The sergeant hand me the Sub-machinegun along with 8 extra clips.
"Here you go, take care Lieutenant!"
"Thanks!" As I head off to the Huey waiting for me, the sergeant calls me back in.
"You forgot your frags!" He hands me over 4 M26 frag grenades.
"Thanks sergeant." I head towards the Huey, greeted with 2 of my squad member (for now).
"Taking the U.S M3 eh, LT?" Kowalski examines the SMG while I climb the chopper.
"Yup."
"I'll tell you something LT, you'll regret using that! My father got killed in the Pacific because of that cursed gun!"
"Yeah well, it's your father; not me!" I chuckles as the Huey flies off.
"Oh, Lt; meet our new radio operator. Sergeant Jonathan Anderson." Kowalski introduce me to a healthy looking G.I with spectacles on. His helmet was written with words like 'Slacker', 'Goin' Home!' and 'Meat Grinder'. A cigarette case, a 'Marlboro', and a small oil container could be spotted belted around his helmet.
"Hello."
"Nice to meet you Lieutenant; the names Anderson, Jonathan Anderson. Guys back in the camp call me Short Timer."
"Nice to meet you Short Timer. Names Harvest, Jack Harvest. Friends back home call me by my first name.
"And that is…?"
"Jack."
"Ok; Nice to know you, Jack!"
Arriving there, I receive my first mission in Vietnam. While the chopper flies through the jungles below me, I kept thinking to myself…….will I make it out of this war? Or, will I be returned home in a body bag? Who knows………? Only God knows what will happen to me next……….
Author's Note
Finally! I finally finish the first chapter on A Farmer's Courage II: Vietnam 67'! Whew! Sorry I can't get this chapter updated as fast as I thought since homework were stacking, and due projects were coming close. Anyways…….I only able to do this at midnight, sneaking out of my bed and turns on the computer just for typing this story! LOL! Anyways………please R&R! Thank you!
BTW:
The updates MAY look like it'll take forever……..
This story might end up to chapter 20-30.