Chapter 5

THE HILL

 

The chopper slowed and started to bank left. Below us, I could see the familiar main trail we had been following. Sarge pointed to the small clearing we had used for a camp the other night, and everyone got ready to jump off, except the flyboys: they were going back to their own base area.

One of them yelled out: “We owe you guys one. Just give us a call anytime you need us.”

The chopper slowly descended over the clearing, and landed. “Let’s go!” Sarge yelled out, as we all moved out and secured the perimeter.

Sarge then sent some troops to check along the trail, and we got busy, setting up camp in the shade of some large trees.

Afterward, everyone ate a big meal from the fresh supplies, and some of the guys played cards, slept or read mail. I spread out my blanket, read some magazines and took a snooze, which I continued to do now and then, for the rest of the day.

Green came over, in the evening. “Hey, Doc,” he said, “what do you think about Sarge and us having to go out there again?”

“It’s not Sarge’s fault,” I replied; “like he said, orders are orders. I just don’t know why Bravo couldn’t have sent another unit in our place.”

Green smiled: “Probably ‘cause we the best of the best! Yes sir, Doc, that’s it.” It felt good to laugh and let go some of the tension.

The shadows were growing, as we prepared for the long, dark night. I prayed we would all make it back to Bravo when it was over. It turned out to be a quiet night - perhaps the calm before the storm.

 

*

 

The next morning, the sun was a big, orange-yellow ball on the horizon; it was only 0700 hours, and it was already getting hot. The air had a heavy feeling to it, but at least it wasn’t raining.

Everyone was up and getting ready, when the Cobra choppers swooped into the L.Z. We sent out a party to meet them and bring the supplies back to our camp – at least now we had plenty of ammo.

To my surprise, Private Anderson – the wounded soldier from the village - was amongst them. He came right over to me.

“Hey, Doc,” he said, “you did me right, my man; I’m as good as new.”

“Thanks,” I replied. “It’s good to see you up and about.”

He added: “I heard you guys were in some trouble again, so I figured I’d better get my butt out here, before somebody gets hurt.”

I checked him over. His arm was still a little tender; he should have stayed out for a few more weeks. “Just try to take it easy, and make sure you finish up all your meds,” I told him.

Green came over, smiling. “Why, Anderson! We was sure you was on your way back to Georgia by now! You should be home, eating Momma’s chicken and greens.”

Anderson replied: “Look who’s talking! Even I know you’re the momma’s boy!”

Green’s smile suddenly disappeared, his eyes widened and his jaw tightened; it grew real quiet.

Then, Green started laughing. 

It was these little things – small laughs - which helped us to get by.

Everyone got busy as we prepared to head out. A detail started to unload supplies and equipment from the L.Z. Then, we watched as the choppers lifted off and disappeared over the tree line.

The team moved out, starting for the trail toward the Marines. I filled Anderson in on our fallen leader, Lieutenant Fellows, and the details of the battle, and I told him the good news about the rescue of the Phantom jet pilots. We were hiking slowly, always looking for mines and traps.

After a few hours, the team moved up another ridge-line, into the hot, steamy jungle. When Sarge got to the top, he checked our heading and then gave the hold signal. We all needed to cool down; the sweat was dripping down my neck.

Sarge keyed up his radio and called the Marines: “Red Dog, this is R-Team. Copy? We are getting close to your sector; will be coming in from map grid sector four niner – repeat: grid sector four niner. Give us some smoke.”

Red Dog came back: “Copy that, R-Team. We thought you were due here days ago; we need that hill ASAP. Do you copy that?”

Green smiled: “Dear Lord, Doc; we found us another Lieutenant Fellows.”

We continued onward, calling in for the last radio check: “Be advised, Red Dog, we see your yellow smoke.”

“Roger that, R-Team,” they replied. “You are clear to approach, from grid sector four niner.”

They sent out a small patrol to meet us, and I could not believe my eyes: in front of me was an officer that looked almost exactly like Lieutenant Fellows, shiny boots and all.

“I’m Captain Lena,” he said. “I have a hill that we must have, immediately; I have a plan for us to capture it. It was days ago when we heard your firefight in the distance; where have you been, Sergeant Jakes? Your orders were to get here, not engage the enemy.”

Sarge gave him a hard look, his face tightening, as he spoke: “Well, sir, to be honest with you, that’s crap! We had no choice, sir. It was my call and my people did a fine job under the circumstances. Our team ran into heavy enemy resistance and I had to take our unit on another trail. We wouldn’t have lost any people, if not for our Lieutenant Fellows - my unit saved over half of his team and destroyed the enemy. Lieutenant Fellows bought his own body bag, by trying to get here before us.” He paused a moment and sipped his water, “you need to keep informed; you should have known we also had a rescue mission, handed to us directly from Bravo.”

Green and I smiled at each other. This Captain Lena was another pencil-head. When we talked with some of his troops, we found out that they had lost over a dozen men, on the first assault on the hill. This whole thing, it didn’t feel right to me.

Sergeant Jakes, Green and I talked the captain into letting us have a look at his assault plan and at the hill. The rest of the platoon took a break with the Marines, as we walked to the base area of the hill with Captain Lena. He started telling us about his plan for the assault:

“My mortar team will fire on the hill, to soften them up, then I will have them lay some smoke rounds, and we’ll make a combined assault and overrun them, thanks to our superior firepower.” He smiled; “They won’t know what hit them. The battle will be a great victory for us all.”

Sergeant Jakes interrupted: “Sir, I’m sorry, but I’m not sending my people up there: they would be cut to pieces. They know you’re coming and you can bet that Charlie is dug in good. The report on your initial assault was heavy resistance. Use your head, man; are you crazy?!”

Captain Lena looked shocked. “You have your orders to assist us, and I will have your stripes if you give us a hard time!”

Sarge started pacing. I could see he was angry, so Green and I motioned him aside: “Excuse us, Captain.”

I then said: “Sarge, you’re right - I can feel it. At this point, I don’t care what he thinks; let us back you up on this one. Maybe he’ll see the light, or maybe we’re going to get into trouble.”

Green added: “I don’t know about you, but I’d rather live to find out.”

Sarge smiled, “Okay, Doc. Do what you can.”

As we walked back to the captain, I tried to stay calm and professional, as I explained: “Captain Lena, we officially and respectfully decline your order: we believe it will result in needless heavy casualties. Do you understand what you are asking us to do? Sergeant Jakes and Corporal Green are my witnesses.”

He stood there, glaring at us.

Sarge added: “Please listen, Captain. We are, in fact, going to assault that hill, after I call Com 1 to order artillery and air support - it’s S.O.P. for this kind of situation. Why you failed to do that before your first assault is beyond me.”

Captain Lena had no choice and he knew it. He was losing control, his face twitching in anger, as he spoke: “Your troops can follow your plan to Hell; my men will do as they are ordered and attack from the front. I will see to it to give a full report on this situation.”

Sarge added: “And, so will we, Captain Lena - you can bank on that.”

Soon, we were moving into position, where our teams went over the details of the assault. We were going to move up the south side of the hill, where there was some decent cover, then go for the top.

When everyone was set to go, Sarge called in to the Marine troops - they were ready and listening in on the com-link. Then, he called base: “Bravo, this is R-Team. Copy. We are at Red Dog; request hotel-echo at my map grid coordinates: fire for effect. Will advise. Copy.”

Bravo replied: “R-Team, we copy that. Be advised: fire for effect at your map grid coordinates in five. Copy that.”

Sarge replied: “Roger, Bravo. We will advise ASAP. Out.”

Then, we all dug in for the coming artillery. Green came over to me. “Here we go again, my man.”

I scanned the hill with his field glasses. I could make out what looked like an enemy position, on the high point of the hill.

It seemed like time stood still, as we waited.

Finally, the sound of a freight train came over us – then, it hit the base of the hill. What thunder! The massive blasts shook the ground, and I could feel the shockwave moving through the air. It was unbelievable.

Green yelled out: “My Lord, Doc! Can ya feel it? The ground is shaking! I’m sure glad they’re on our side!”

“You got that right, Green,” I replied. “That is some kind of fireworks going off up there.”

As we lay there, watching, I prayed we would make it through the coming battle, up to the top of the hill, together.

Sarge called: “Com 1, you are in the ball-park; just move it up, about 100-hundred yards, and walk it out to one five hundred. We can use a flyboy if you have one available - same grid sector. He can mark my smoke and add five hundred to the top.”

Bravo replied: “Roger that, R-Team; we think we can accommodate. Be advised: the fireworks will start at your mark.”

We dug in and waited, as the 105 Howitzers continued pounding the hill. As soon as the barrage was over, I heard the Phantom jets coming.

They roared overhead, past the hill, then turned, banking back and releasing their weapons. The streaking missiles slammed into the hill, and the bombs found their mark. The napalm exploded, in huge, red-orange fireballs. 

The Marines followed by opening up a heavy barrage of rocket and mortar fire - I could see the rounds flashing and exploding, as they fired them up the hillside.

The team waited for the clear signal, before eventually moving to take the hill. I could smell the burning trees and napalm; thick smoke from the artillery clung to the hillside like fog - luckily, it would help give us all good cover. We started our move as the cover fire opened up.

We reached halfway up the hillside, before the Marines got hit with R.P.G. and heavy machine-gun fire. There, on the top of the hill, we could see a small bunker, from which the V.C. were firing. 

The team fired at it, using LAW rocket and grenade launchers. The last ones really found the mark: there was a flash of light and the ground shook, as the bunker exploded.

Sarge called the Marines: “Red Dog, be advised: R-Team is moving to objective. Check your fire. Repeat: check your fire. Copy.”

Red Dog replied: “Roger that, R-Team; we copy that and will cover the back door.”

Sarge, along with Corporal Green and our grenade-launcher crew, crept up on the position, to finish the job. The Marines were covering with mortars and sporadic bursts of M-60 fire, and I could see our team getting into position. They started shooting the grenade launchers, and I watched the rounds exploding, right on top of the hill, on what looked like another bunker area.

Suddenly, there was a huge secondary explosion - the whole hill shuddered from the blast; I dove for cover as the shockwave blasted over me. Then, a huge cloud of smoke drifted out over the hill.

Gradually, the smoke cleared some, all became quiet and the hold-fire signal went around.

Sarge and his team were still crawling toward what was left of the bunker, when one of our troops stood up and started waving for us to come over - he was immediately cut down by an AK-47 burst, from a nearby tunnel.

As the rest of the unit started moving uphill, I crawled slowly toward our fallen soldier; Sarge and Green continued scurrying toward the tunnel. As they moved closer, they started throwing grenades into the tunnel’s opening.

Several V.C. suddenly, unexpectedly appeared from another tunnel, opening on the other side of the hill. Some of them were wounded. Unaware of our location, they were yelling and firing down the hill. We caught them in our crossfire, between the Marines and our team; they didn’t stand a chance.

The firing slowly stopped and, after some time, Sarge called in the clear signal, from the top of the hill.

I had by now reached the wounded man, but he had no pulse. I tried C.P.R., over and over, but could not revive him.

I sat there for a moment, trying to calm myself; the adrenalin was pumping and my bloody hands were shaking. But, I could see that Green was okay - he was with the Sarge - and I thanked God that we had made it. The Marines joined us and together we started checking the hill.

“Look at that idiot!” Sarge pointed at Captain Lena, who was giving orders for his troops to go into the tunnel. 

Sarge turned to us and continued: “Stay away from those tunnels, people! Green, you and Doc go check those blown-out bunkers.”

Our team moved slowly and carefully. In one destroyed bunker we found supplies and a huge pile of marijuana, but most of the weapons and ammo had been destroyed in the air assault.

Suddenly, there was an earth-shaking explosion, and everyone hit the dirt, as a soldier positioned in front of one of the tunnel openings was hurled through the air.

After the dust settled, the Marines’ medic and I moved over to him - luckily, he seemed to be okay, if a little banged up from the concussion.

Sarge yelled out: “No one touches anything! And, keep away from those tunnels!”

The Marines and their captain had learned the hard way: Charlie used every dirty trick in the book to make up for his lack of resources; all types of homemade traps and mines – primitive, but deadly. The soldier sent into the tunnel had tripped a booby trap, and there wasn’t much left of him. The captain should have known better.

Still, the battle was over and, luckily, our casualties were light. Together, our teams had taken out fifty-one V.C. and we had the hill.

Sarge called in: “Bravo, R-Team here. Be advised: we are on top of map grid sector four niner with our friends. We have some K.I.A. and wounded, plus a few V.C. to add to your list.”

Bravo replied: “Copy that, R-Team. Be advised: a medevac is en route. You are to set up at your twenty for the duration. There will be relief in a few days. Out.”

Together with the Marines, the team started to get set up for the night. I stayed with the wounded men, until the medevac came in. Watching them on their way out gave me a good feeling, as always. 

Sarge and a Marine sergeant were busy, setting up a defensive perimeter for the hill, while we had some chow and shared stories with our Marine comrades. Morale was high that night.

*

 

The next morning, like the majority of the team, I was hungover. We had partied late with our comrades: they had the beer – Budweiser – and we had the weed. One of the guys had a tape player, and we had listened to the Rolling Stones and Jimi Hendrix for hours. Now, everyone was looking for black coffee and aspirin.

After chow, Sarge called us up for a team review. He started his usual pacing, as he talked. “You new guys did well yesterday, and I think you’re all starting to learn to stay alive. We lost a good man, but it could have been much worse, had we listened to Captain Lena. The Marines had another  few  K.I.A. in the first moments of the assault.”

Green leaned over: “Like I said, Doc, the Sarge knows this war good.”

Sarge went on: “Mistakes are not an option - out here, you all know what can happen. Never stand up until all is clear, and do not touch anything or go into a tunnel, unless it has been checked. Never let your guard down at a V.C. position.

“Now, we have new orders: we are to hold this hill with the Marines, until they bring in their own support. A drop will be coming, to bring supplies, in the morning.”

After the meeting, Green, Sarge and I were cleaning our weapons, when Captain Lena came over. He looked dazed and confused.

“You men were right,” he said, mournfully. “I’m sorry; I was wrong and my men died for it.”

I noticed his eyes had an empty look to them, as he continued: “I’m relieving myself for a few weeks; my lieutenant will work with you. Let him know if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Captain. That’s a good idea,” Sarge replied.

The captain seemed to be in shock; he was staggering as he walked away.

Sarge smiled: “You know, that Captain Lena just might be okay, after all. But I’m still gonna file my report the way it went down.”

Green and I spent the day setting up a defense perimeter, with the Marines, who had Claymores and trip flares. The rest of the team was busy getting well dug in. Sarge and the Marine lieutenant set up lookout points around the hill, and created a schedule to keep them manned - we didn’t want Charlie sneaking in on us. Finally, the teams settled in for some rest.

It felt good to be up on top of the hill, away from the jungle heat.