I'm back. I don't know what you think of the time between updates, but I hope it's okay. I'm currently writing three other stories at the moment, although one of them will be finished soon enough. Just expect a few delays every now and then. I'm glad that you still read and review my story.

Another reason for a short delay is college move-in. It's a small feeling of déjà vu, even though I moved in a day after freshman orientation. Being a sophomore, I know what things to avoid now. Classes have started, and things are going fine. Oh, and by the way, I'm at Elon University, in North Carolina. I might've forgotten to mention that earlier.

As for my knowledge of Vietnam, yes, I have studied history often. Military history is one of my rather big interests. This story is not based on any historical account (although it borrows from a movie, which was based on the filmmaker's own Vietnam experiences), but everything else is historically accurate.

Well, here's chapter 3. This will be the last chapter without characters from Mononoke-Hime. It represents the real kickoff to the story. Read and enjoy.

Being Alive

Chapter 3

One man closed his locker with a slam. He finished putting on his uniform, buttoning up the new, government-issued green fatigue. He finished tying his black canvas-topped boots, and zipped up his duffle bag. He then moved to the nearest mirror in the locker room, and smiled at himself.

His mother would be proud. He was following in the footsteps of his entire family. His great-great grandfather had been a hero of the Union Army under Sherman in the Civil War. His grandfather had served in one of the last regiments sent in during the First World War. And his father had been parachuted in over Normandy with the 101st in June of 1944. And now, since his brothers were all too young, it was his turn.

He had been sent to a reserve base in Okinawa, south of Japan. And now, his group was shipping out to Saigon. The chopper that would take them to the air base would be leaving soon. He had to hurry.

As he grabbed his duffle bag, he checked around the locker room to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. After one check, he was satisfied. He moved to an open locker to close it.

Before he closed it, he noticed that something was inside it. He opened the door all the way, and looked at the object inside. He slowly picked it up, and examined it. It was some sort of Japanese doll. Only this wasn't made of white porcelain, like the ones he had seen in the markets all around town, but of wood. And, though it was in a crossed-leg seated position like a human, it had the head of a deer. He guessed it was a deer, since it had antlers on its head as well. The one thing that was confusing about it was its face. It was neither man nor beast. Although the face was colorless, it looked like it was decorated in some sort of war paint design. And the expression…

He looked at the doll for a few minutes, an amazed look on his face. He'd heard that these things were supposed to bring good luck to those who owned hem. Like they acted as some sort of guardian. He was wondering what he should do with it when he was interrupted by a yell from down the hall.

"Hey, Gardner! Are you coming or not? The chopper's full, and they're leaving in three minutes!"

Gardner fumbled the figure a bit before turning back to the hall. "Hold you horses, I'm coming!" He quickly opened his duffle bag, stuffed the doll carefully between his clothes and sleeping bag, and zipped it up before heading out the door.

January 31st, 1968. 5:35 AM.

Dante sat at the foot of the jungle, leaning back on a tree trunk, his arms behind his back. He watched as the sun began to appear over the horizon. As he watched, he felt himself in the mood, and took out a small instrument he had hung around his neck: an old-time harmonica, given to him by his American foster father when he was ten years old. He started playing a tune he had heard in a western the group had watched at a MASH unit in December, called A Fistful of Dollars, starring the guy who played Rowdy Yates.

It had been almost three months since he had arrived in Vietnam. And a lot had happened, and changed as well. His first week had been hell. But, since he had made a few friends, the going had been significantly better.

Even though it had been hell to travel through the sweltering jungles almost everyday, having to shovel shit and stand night watch in the most mosquito-infested areas, he always had the little things to cheer him up. Whenever he was short of food, Mason gave him a loose ration. When he couldn't carry a whole load, the Corporal lent a hand. And, during a close call the month before, Mason had knocked him out from an area where a booby-trap grenade had been planted just before it went off. It was thanks to his friend that Dante was still alive today, and he was very grateful. Not only that, but the rest of the platoon that were still with them since he first arrived all seemed a bit better as well. Despite the fact that people were dying all around him, Dante didn't feel as bad as he thought he would.

To make things better, there was another thing to look forward to: they would be heading into the southern city of Bien Hoa later that morning. There were always things to do in the cities, the guys had told him.

When the sun had gotten halfway up, Dante stopped playing, and looked at his watch; it was almost 6 am, and Miller would be waking everyone up soon. They were heading to the city after a quick breakfast, where they would rendezvous with other units for further orders. He got up, pocketed his harmonica, and headed back to the camp.

January 31st. 2:15 AM

As the plane soared low in the dawn sky, the soldiers were nearly restless in their seats. They'd received their orders in Saigon, and awaited their arrival in Bien Hoa, where they were going to meet up with other units. They would moving up towards the Cambodian border soon, trying, along with several others, to cut off the Ho Chi Minh trail.

Gardner sat with his back against the hull of the plane, feeling the vibrations and slight turbulence as the craft flew. He never really enjoyed flying. Still, even though he was eager to get off the plane, he didn't feel to good about moving into the trail. He'd heard that it got very rough along there.

After hesitating for a moment, he picked up his duffle bag, and zipped it open. He moved aside his clothes to reveal the wooden doll that he had found in his locker back in Japan weeks before. He stared at it happily and intently. He was glad to have it, feeling it had really brought him luck in those days traveling down the coast. He would need all the luck he could get deeper in the jungle.

6:03 AM

The camp wake-up had gone over as usual. Soldiers got out of bed slowly, fixed themselves up with what they had (if they were lucky, they got to bathe in a nearby pond), and ate their daily issue of breakfast rations, consisting mostly of toast, eggs, gritty bacon, and coffee, before gathering up the camp supplies and preparing to head east into the town.

Dante was rolling up his tent when Mason walked up to him. He looked up to meet his friend's face.

"What're you wastin' your time for? I'm sleeping on white sheets tonight; I don't know about you."

Dante finished packing as he responded. "Does that mean I'm gonna throw out everyone of my goddamned supplies? I almost got lost last week. I'm not sleeping on the fucking ant-covered ground."

Mason laughed, smacking him lightly over the head, and pulled out a pack of Marlboros. "It was a joke, white trash. I just came up to tell you I'll split with you."

"Split what?" he asked as he hoisted his pack over his shoulder. Mason lent him a cig, then moved to pull out a lighter, but was stopped when Dante lighted them both with his own Zippo lighter. He gave him a look, then put his arm over Dante's shoulder, and walked him towards the others.

"The green I got for them massage parlors. You pay these girls enough, they do anything you want, man. I got enough for the both of us, you dig?"

Dante stifled a laugh, taking the cigarette out of his mouth. "I don't know, man-"

"What the hell do you mean, 'you don't know?' I'm here, telling you I got enough dough to entitle us to the privilege of fucking two beautiful Vietnamese chicks in the next city, and you can't even decide what you want? You should be happy I'm willing to split with you, motherfucker!"

Dante laughed again. "Okay, whatever."

"Shut up, boy! You know what, I'm making sure you do this with me. It's an order, from your damn Corporal."

"Well, I don't know, maybe I should, but what that girl you were writing to last week?"

"Don't talk about her man, that's fucking outta' bounds. You're doing this if I have to hold a gun to your head."

The two continued joking until Miller called out to the troops.

"Okay! Everyone saddle up! We'll be in Bien Hoa shortly, if we're fast! Move out!"

With that, the slow trek to Bien Hoa began.

2:55 AM

The transport had landed in Bien Hoa airbase, and the soldiers were waiting for the bay door to open.

Gardner sat with his back to the hull, looking at his watch. Only two more minutes until 3 am. He wondered if they were going to keep them up this late every night.

His thoughts moved to his bag. He stared at it, knowing what he wanted to do. He hesitated, wondering what the others might do. He threw that thought aside, and zipped open his duffle bag, pulling out the doll. He eyed the neat carving job, wondering just how old the figure was anyway. He then glanced at his watch. Less than a minute until 3 am…

After a few seconds of staring at the doll, he heard the loud clanking noise to his right. The bay doors were opening. He sighed, clutched his open bag, and walked to the opening, still clutching the doll.

Suddenly, there was a shockwave that rumbled through the plane. All the soldiers stopped in their tracks for a second. Then, an explosion outside the plane shook them all. Gardner dropped the wooden doll, and pulled his M-16 off his shoulder. The doll clattered to the floor.

All the soldiers grabbed their weapons, loading in full magazines, before running out of the plane. What they met was a sight that shocked them.

The perimeter fence surrounding the airbase had an enormous hole in it, left there by dual rocket and mortar attacks. A number of guards lay dead around the perimeter, which had been penetrated by the Vietcong. They had broken though the fence, and were making their way into the airbase.

The recruits from the plane wasted no time charging after the enemy. This was the only real action they had gotten; and they were taking it. Gardner trailed behind most of the group, but he ran with the same intensity.

The troops managed to kill a few VCs before the inevitable happened. Another RPG landed square in their path, immediately killing those in front. Those who had survived had fallen to the ground, and were trying to get up. The VCs, however, mowed them down with their Kalashnikov carbines. They kept firing until only one was left.

Gardner had been struck by at least three rounds, and had fallen to the ground. He was desperately trying to crawl away from the massacre, daring a fruitless attempt to make it back to the plane. He was stopped short when a pair of feet walked right in his path. He slowly raised his head to see the one who had stopped him. The man in black pajamas gave a sinister grin, and raised his rifle to Gardner's face. The last sound he heard was of the shell casing hitting the dirt after the shot.

6:35 AM

They'd been moving for half an hour. They still had another fifteen minutes or so before they would make their way out of the outskirts, and into the city perimeter. On their way, the had to cross a rather small river.

Dante waded through the water, which was just above waist-level. Things had been pretty calm the past few days. They hadn't seen a full-fledged firefight in weeks. For a fleeting second during the past week, Captain Gibson had joked that the war might be through enough to send plenty of them home. Dante sighed as he remembered the looks on everyone's faces. They knew they wouldn't be going home just like that, resented his attitude, as though he were taunting them. Still, Dante thought that if things were to keep up like this…

Other soldiers were savoring the wade. They were happy as hell to find out that this river was not so full of leeches as the last one they had come across. Connolly had gotten quite a few on him, even a couple on his thighs. The group had laughed heartily when he the blond Corporal had run out of the river, struggling to get his pants off. Even Miller had joined in.

Dante saw that Joe McCain had stopped to fill his canteen in the river. Joe dipped it in, and brought the bottle towards his mouth, until he was stopped by a voice behind him.

"Don't drink that, asshole, you'll get malaria." Connolly walked up behind McCain, gave him a grin, and moved on.

"Yeah, I hope so" Joe said sarcastically, emptying his canteen.

A number of men, including Gibson and Macon, had already cleared the water, and were starting up their radios again. Gibson looked like he was having static troubles.

"I say, Five-Nine, do you copy our transmission! We're requesting a sit-rep!"

The radio suddenly buzzed with a crackled response.

"Att…units! Bien Hoa has-(buzz) (crackle) by VCs! The (buzz)-ammunition depot was mortared-(buzz)- airbase is under siege! Head back-"

The transmission ended there with a final crackle. Gibson looked at his Sergeant.

"What the fuck was all that?"

"Looks like we're gonna have to help call in reinforcements."

As others climbed out of the river, Dante sat down on a nearby log. The Captain and Sergeants were hotly discussing their radio transmission, whatever the hell it was about.

Suddenly, he stopped listening to his commanding officers. His mind went to the woods behind him. There were faint, mixed sounds of rustling coming from the jungle. His eyes went wide at what he knew was about to happen.

He jumped up to warn everybody, but was too late in doing so.

"Get the fuck down, everybody-"

Before he could finish his sentence, an RPG exploded in the ground in the front of the group of soldiers. Several men were thrown backwards from the blast, leaving at least three of them dead. Everyone ran for cover. Several men dove behind trees, avoiding the oncoming Kalashnikov machine gun fire.

"Miller! We're in a trap! Someone get over here!"

Dante quickly ran to the tree where Macon was crouching. He threw himself down in the dirt beside the Sergeant.

"What the fuck is that?"

"They've got RPGs, it's an ambush! They were just fuckin' waitin' for us! They're dug in the fucking ground!"

Dante crawled a few feet to his left, and looked out over a mound of dirt. True to Macon's word, there were at least three VCs in a small foxhole with a tarp as camouflage cover. One was firing away at a drum-fed RPK, and another was loading rockets into a shoulder-based launcher. In between them lay the soldiers who had been killed by the RPG blast. Back in the river, a few bodies of men who had been struck by the gunfire floated facedown. Dante looked around, scoping the area for where there was sure to be more of them, before clutching his M-16, and fishing a magazine out of his bandolier. He jammed the piece into the rifle, pulled back the action lever, and put his back to the tree, turning out to return fire at the foxhole.

A few feet back, Guy and Joe had set up an M-60, and were returning fire themselves. Careful to avoid the crossfire, Dante crawled as fast as he could to a mound of earth closer to the VC foxhole. He swung his M-16 over his back, and made it to one of the wounded men who was laying on the ground. He moved up to check the mans' pulse.

About thirty feet back, Miller was having qualms with Gibson. "How the fuck did we not get word of any of this?" the Captain yelled angrily over the gunfire.

"The city was penetrated by mortar and rocket attacks!" Miller responded. "They got everything, the airbase, the ammunition depot, even the radio box! It was all a bunch of coordinated attacks, all over this part of the country!" Another RPG exploded seven feet away form them, causing Miller to flinch. "We have to get through this trap and rendezvous with the other reinforcements that are on their way! We don't have much time before those damn gooks can do a lot of damage!"

"Okay! Get Macon over here, I want that son of a bitch to move up through here while we go on the other side!"

Back at the foxhole, Dante had rolled over on his back, and was fixing up a frag grenade for throwing. He dispatched the pin, and held onto the handle, waiting for the moment of silence…

The gunfire stopped, and the VC gunner started to load another chain of ammunition. At that moment, Dante stood up on his knees, and hurled the grenade right into the foxhole. The men resumed firing, until the ensuing explosion sent them flying out of the hole in the ground.

Macon turned around to the men scattered behind him. "That's the first foxhole! Get moving into woods!"

After a few more minutes, the firefight had calmed down. They'd gotten plenty of gooks scattered around the jungle, and most of the others had retreated. Dante began to look for Mason and the others. He found him standing with Guy.

"Mason! Anything else happen?"

"Not much. We lost Tony back there, though. He's floatin' in the river."

Dante felt a spear in his chest as he saw the man floating facedown, the water around him stained red.

The men then looked to their left to see Miller running up to them.

"Redding, Berenger! Gather up the rest of the platoon, we have to-"

His foot caught something, and triggered an explosion, which sent him flying to the ground. The other men shielded themselves from the flying projectiles, then ran up to the downed Sergeant.

"What the fuck happened?" Dante yelled, feeling for Miller's pulse.

Guy walked up to him. "It was a fucking booby trap grenade, they've got 'em all over the place! Miller must've hit a tripwire!"

Mason knelt down, feeling the Sergeant's wrist. He stood up slowly.

"Too late. He's gone."

Dante felt a spark of sadness. Miller had never been great, but still…

"Fuck!" Guy yelled. "The goddamned gooks, they're gonna-"

"Shut the fuck up, Guy! C'mon, we're proceeding. Where the hell's Macon?"

"He went ahead with Gibson a few minutes ago. They're taking a different route. All we are is who's left of our platoon."

Mason snarled. "Goddamned coward son of a bitch! He just wanted to get out of here quickly. Okay, who's still alive?"

Connolly spoke up. "Just us. Me, you, Redding, McManus, McCain, and Harper."

"Christ, that's all?" He sighed again. "Okay, fuck it. Let's move!"

About twenty minutes later, they arrived in Bien Hoa. The city was the biggest they had been to in a long while, but it didn't look good. The remains of mortar and rocket attacks lay at every corner. Buildings were on fire. The ammunition depot was a complete disaster, having most of its contents destroyed. That would be an enormous blow to the forces.

The group of six came to the road just outside the airbase. The fence had numerous holes in it, left by rocket attacks and grenades. There might have been troops lurking around, but they couldn't tell from where they were standing.

Mason turned to the troops. "Okay, dicks, listen up: we're heading to the airbase to make sure it's secure. The reinforcements are bound to show up there first. Once they come, we'll know what to do from there. Be on the lookout for any gooks in the area."

The men all nodded, and followed the Corporal down the road. They passed through the damaged gate, and into the airfield. A number of aircraft had been severely damaged. Nearby, there was a C-130 with its bay doors still open. And, a few dozen feet from that, near the west end of the perimeter, were the bodies of several soldiers.

"Shit," Guy said as he carried his M-60. "What the hell happened here?"

"Looks like they attacked with a few mortars," Mason answered, "and maybe some rockets."

"How the hell could they get these guys in broad daylight?"

"They didn't. This plane arrived before dawn. It was dark, and the place wasn't as alive. I know how the drill goes."

"This is bullshit" Connolly said. "How the fuck could these gooks coordinate attacks all over the city at three in the morning without us noticing anything?"

"Use your head, Steve! They've been quiet for so long, and it's supposed to be some sort of religious period, or-"

"Hey! Over here!"

The men turned towards the left; there, ten feet from an attack chopper that had been blasted through the windshield, and was missing part of its propeller, stood a man in an air force uniform. He ran to meet them, and they moved in near the chopper.

"I've been waiting for you guys!"

"Who're you?" Mason asked.

The man saluted. "Lt. Col. Dick Travis, of the 7th Air Force, sir! I fly cargo and transport for this section! Who're you guys?"

"We're Foxtrot Company; 31st Infantry division, 2nd platoon. We ran into a lot of trouble east of here."

"Tell me something I don't know! The attacks started at three in the morning! They went after everything! The ammo depot, the MASH tents, this base; hell, it wasn't just here, either! I heard the word on the radio before it got fried. This has been happening all along the damn trail, up until the goddamned border! Like they planned this whole thing!"

Mason sighed as he looked around the area. "Dammit. Looks like there's no one else coming. Okay, we need to-"

The crack of gunfire silenced him. A rifle-caliber round struck him in the back, exiting his chest. He fell forward into the dirt as more shots rang out.

Guy and the others moved quickly. He and Travis managed to jump behind the chopper for cover. Joe, however, had been struck in the head, and had dropped to the ground, blood flowing from the spot where his head lay.

Dante had stood in total shock at seeing Mason fall towards the ground. He then moved to catch him before he hit, but Harper tried to hold him back.

"Get the fuck off, Harper!"

"No, dammit! Get back here!"

Not listening to his comrade, Dante wrenched free of the Private's grip. He dove for Mason, who lay on the ground, struggling to breathe as well as move.

"Mason? Mason!" He fruitlessly to help him breathe straight. Blood was flowing from the wound in his lungs.

Behind the chopped, Guy was looking out through the open doors. "Where the hell is the sniper?"

"He's in the small post over there, thirty yards away. I saw the shots come from there." Harper then turned back to the spot where Dante was kneeling over the downed Corporal. "Dante! Get the fuck back here, now! The son of a bitch is reloading!"

Dante looked back at the others, then turned back to his friend. He attempted to hoist Mason up in his arms. He was stopped when Harper ran up to him, pulling him away.

"I said, FORGET HIM!"

"NO! I'm, taking him back there! He's still got a chance-"

Another shot was fired from the post building, and struck the head of Mason's now-limp body, going right through the helmet. Dante dropped the body in shock.

"Dammit! Fuck you, you son-"

"C'mon, hurry up!"

"-son of a fucking cocksucker! Fuck you!"

Harper pulled Dante behind the chopper, and threw himself down on the ground. Dante stood on his knees, on the verge of tears.

"Motherfucker…the motherfucker!" he yelled, slamming his fist in the dust.

"Knock it off, man. I'm sorry, but there's nothing we can do about it now." Guy turned to the pilot. "Are any of these planes still operational?"

"One. I did all the checking when I got here. That C-130 over there didn't take any damage."

"Shit, that's a goddamned Herky Bird. Can you fly that thing?"

"If I can get enough runway, then yeah."

"Okay then. Guys, we're getting outta' here. More gooks are bound to show up, and the reinforcements won't arrive for at least another thirty minutes, with all this confusion going around. Saigon's not far from here. There's bound to be at least one safe landing space."

"You sure about this man? That bird's gonna be tough to get off the ground in all this shit."

"Hell, I ain't staying around here. You coming or not?"

"Yeah, I'm coming. But what about the sniper?"

Guy looked over his shoulder, through the chopper doors, then beck at Harper. "I'll get him. You guys head into the plane, and I'll catch up."

"Are you crazy? You ain't gonna make it like that!"

"Watch me" he said, raising his M-60. "Now, go. I'll cover you guys."

Harper sighed in defeat. "Okay. C'mon, let's go."

Dante reluctantly followed them to the edge of the chopper. When Guy gave the signal, they tore off for the transport. The sound of the M-60 firing away rang in Dante's ears.

They made it to the aircraft, and ran up through the bay doors. They stopped to catch their breath.

"Okay, we're in. C'mon, you gotta' start this thing up."

"I'm goin', I'm goin."

Travis, Connolly and Harper headed into the cockpit. Dante was about to follow them, when he felt something under his foot. Something hard, made of wood. He looked down to see something he couldn't make out in the dark. He reached down, and picked it up.

His eyes went wide. The figure he held before him was a Japanese wooden doll, in the shape of a crouched man. The head, however, had a crown of antlers, and the face looked neither human nor animal. It was an amazing piece of work.

Something in the back of Dante's mind leapt. He had seen this doll before, somewhere…but he couldn't put his finger on it exactly…

All of a sudden, the bay doors behind him started to close. Dante was jerked back to reality.

"What the- hey, wait! Guy's not here yet!"

No one responded. The doors closed, and the plane started to move along the runway. Dante ran for the cockpit door. When he got there, however, it was locked.

"Open up the door! You guys left without-"

The massive aircraft rumbled as it suddenly picked up speed from the ignition blast, forcing Dante to fall back on his rear. As he tried to sit up, rubbing the back of his head, he could feel the plane lifting off. The last time he had ridden in a C-130, it had taken longer to get into the air.

"What the hell's going on?" How can a Herky Bird go up this fast?

Before he could get up again, the plane suddenly tore to the side, as though something had struck it. The aircraft soared floppily through the air, as though no one was at the controls. Then the soldier felt the feeling one got when a plane begins to descend, at a very fast speed.

Just before the crash, it happened: the doll's eyes glowed a bright red, and a flash of white light enveloped the whole area. Dante closed his eyes tight, blinded by the flash. He curled up, waiting for the inevitable crash and burn.

Whew. Glad that's finally done. Not that I don't like it, but it means we're though with the modern era (at least for now). In the next chapter, we will be in the time of the movie.

This part of the story takes place at the onset of the Tet Offensive. The times and areas of attack are as accurate as possible. Bien Hoa is a southern city in Vietnam, northwest of Saigon. As for the movie reference, A Fistful of Dollars was the first ever 'Spaghetti Western', meaning the movie was made by Italian studios. It starred Clint Eastwood, who also starred as Rowdy Yates on the popular show Rawhide. The movie was released in the U.S. around that time.

Oh, and for ice73, if you read this again: No, I did make up the '305th Air Force'. But I didn't go back and research things for this fic. I was working on what I already knew. Still, I didn't think such a thing was too important. I admit I was trying to rush the story. Anyway, I went back and corrected those 'mistakes', just so I don't get another one of those reviews. Unless I'm mistaken, the 7th Air Force served in a lot of operations in Southeast Asia during the 60's. And I went and changed the rank as well. I'll try to avoid any more 'inaccuracies' throughout the rest of the story. Still, thanks for reviewing.

Well, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Come next chapter, you'll see some familiar faces. That's all I have to say. Read and review. Happy trails.

Music for Chapter 3:

The Sunset, by Ennio Morricone (from The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly)
Adagio for Strings, by Samuel Barber
(There wasn't much music for this chapter. Most of the battle scenes are done without music.)