THE TWENTIETH DAY SECOND PART, 30 Days has September

THE TWENTIETH DAY SECOND PART, 30 Days has September

I hit the flattened fern leaves and shoots on my left side, trying to hold my right arm free in case I needed to get to my Colt, and also stay away from having my strapped-on pack catapult me out of the chute. My attempt to control the descent was totally wasted as...
THIRTY DAYS HAS SEPTEMBER, The Twentieth Night

THIRTY DAYS HAS SEPTEMBER, The Twentieth Night

The mess of stationery I carried was a collection of soggy, semi-wet and dried water stains holding strands of paper together. The envelopes were in the best shape because I’d rolled them into a tight tube and used one of my extra trouser springs to hold them...
TWENTIETH NIGHT SECOND PART, 30 Days Has September

TWENTIETH NIGHT SECOND PART, 30 Days Has September

I holstered Tex’s Colt .45 automatic that I had used half my canteen water to boil clean earlier. I had no oil but I knew there had to be some kept by others in the company I could get later. The Colt would operate just fine with no oil at all but only as long as it...
THE TWENTY-FIRST DAY, 30 Days Has September

THE TWENTY-FIRST DAY, 30 Days Has September

The sounds of the Bong Song’s nearby rushing waters, the whap whap whap of the descending chopper’s supersonic blade-tips rotating, and the rest of the valley background sounds all faded into non-existence, as four Skyraiders came down the valley from the north, no...
THE TWENTY FIRST NIGHT, 30 Days Has September

THE TWENTY FIRST NIGHT, 30 Days Has September

It was an impossible mission but there was no other way. Nobody in the company was going to make it up the backside of Hill 975 without getting blown to smithereens no matter how it was done. The first time they’d gone up the back side of the connection plateau had...
THE TWENTY-SECOND DAY, 30 Days Has September

THE TWENTY-SECOND DAY, 30 Days Has September

Corporal Mike Riorden was the Ontos Commander, although everyone called him Rio, like the city because his roots were from somewhere down in South America. The Ontos crew loved the Ontos, and I was almost certain their love had little to do with the machine’s armor or...
TWENTY-SECOND NIGHT, 30 Days Has September

TWENTY-SECOND NIGHT, 30 Days Has September

I stared at Jurgens, waiting for an apology I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear, and damned well knew I didn’t want to accept. The man was the epitome of a phrase I’d never used in my lifetime and had only heard about in occasional passing while I was in college. White...
TWENTY THIRD DAY, 30 Days Has September

TWENTY THIRD DAY, 30 Days Has September

I scrambled, slid and crabbed my way through the low growing debris spread like small islands of living flora all over the mud flat I was trapped on. The NVA gunners had opened up high or were trying to take out the Ontos instead of shooting at a few scavengers trying...