Puff came in for the third time, orbiting Hill 975 and pouring what seemed to look like liquid fire into the mountain, while it sounded for all the world like the place was being chewed up with a giant out of control chainsaw. The way the big cargo plane tilted and then orbited was eerie to watch as if the low-flying airplane was being restrained by some invisible guiding string hanging down from high up in the heavens. The sun peeking out of the clouds, as mid-day came and went, added another strange element to the scene, and the Skyraiders, lurking around and around as if waiting for their chance to strike at anything that moved below added an additional odd element of impending doom for anyone under them.
Once Puff was done the Skyraiders took over the attack, slowly flying up and down the valley as if waiting for any surviving prey to show its head. The day wore on without any further fire until mid-afternoon, when Cowboy decided the time was right all on his own without any communication with me. I’d been in communication with him and let him know that we would be out on the exposed flat after dark to recover one of our own. Even the suppression of fire the mighty thundering Skyraiders might supply would not allow us to make the retrieval of McInerney’s body without likely and significant losses of our living Marines. The resupply was also being planned and scheduled for early evening so the greater the damage to the fortified and tunnel-riven mountain during the daylight hours the better.
The Skyraiders passed once more down the valley, and then everything changed when Cowboy’s lead plane plunged low, dived in toward the middle of Hill 975 and dropped two of the huge canisters of napalm from under each wing. The tanks hit the mountain. The jellied gasoline the tanks contained lit and rolled down the mountainside, spilling out and burning at a rate that caused the heat to be felt all the way behind our lines and beyond. The other two Skyraiders dropped their tanks, each one selecting a different part of the mountain to burn. Once more they circled, and then came in again, except this time higher. All three planes dropped their remaining napalm supplies on the very top of the mountain, causing the torrid liquid to ignite and flow down the sides of the mountain to overlap the areas that had been hit and burned in their earlier runs.
The Wright radial engines quieted, as the planes headed back to base. Through the afternoon they returned three more times to repeat what they had done earlier. Whether the fire on the outside of the mountain, some of which had to reach into the tunnel complex that riddled the mountain, caused a lot of destruction nobody could know, but the mountain that was once green with lush jungle ferns and other growth, was a smoking black cone when they were done for the day.
The Skyraiders finished their last pass. There was no point in aircraft remaining on station to fire their twenty-millimeter machine guns because there were no visible targets for them to shoot at. Whether the withering fire of Puff and then fiery burning effects of the napalm were enough to deaden or quiet the forces holed up inside Hill 975 could not be accurately guessed. There had to be some traumatic shock effect, but the NVA troops were notorious for being tough and enduring punishment, no matter what punishment was thrown their way.
As twilight began to expand the moving shadow thrown down by the western cliff’s great height, I prepared the small team we would use to encounter the particular pile of rip-rap and torn apart rocks where Nguyen, who’d been out there with McInerney, indicated his body was likely to be found. The Gunny lay next to me as I surveyed the scene, the particular pile of rocks so close that no binoculars were needed to study the approach or the indicated area. The main problem that became apparent, as the light began to wane, was the presence of enemy soldiers. The mountain had been deadly quiet since Puff had rained metal rain down upon every square inch of its surface and the Skyraiders had gone back and forth to their base to pour at least sixteen giant burning canisters of napalm down upon its sides.
The troops creeping out onto the heavily contested mud flat field of fire weren’t even in uniform if they were troops at all. Furtively, they crept out to retrieve their own dead or wounded, which appeared to number in the hundreds, if not more. There had been no notification, no request for a cease-fire or mercy of any sort by the implacable North Vietnamese sapper unit occupying the mountain. The crawling natives, only half-clothed, looking almost exactly like slowly moving parts of the landscape itself eased out from the brush surrounding Hill 975, and then moved out onto the flat to drag bodies back toward the hill, always positioning the bodies so they could drag them by their wrists and not their feet.
Not one Marine along the line fired a shot at any of the visible men. Neither the Gunny nor I and certainly not the platoon commanders had given any orders to shoot or not shoot. Everyone did the same thing. We all watched intently, and with some mild discomfort. The NVA had paid a huge price in attempting to overrun our position, and it seemed poised to repeat that same experience, but yet the small moving creatures out atop the mud moved with furtive but steady deliberation, seeming to disregard the deadly position they were placing themselves in.
Fusner, Nguyen and I, along with the most unlikely of volunteers, Sergeant Jurgens, would make the attempt to dig through the rocks and dislodge and return McInerney’s body to our lines.
“Go now,” the Gunny whispered urgently into my left ear.
My hearing had finally recovered from my body being placed directly under the trajectory of the Ontos 106 mm rounds when they left their tubes earlier. For physics reasons unknown to me the recoilless explosions when the charges were let off to send the rounds out were almost twice as loud, then those of the 105 howitzers, yet they packed a smaller less powerful punch upon arrival.
“It’s not dark enough yet,” I said back.
“That’s not the point,” the Gunny rasped out, his voice nearly a whisper. “They won’t fire on you retrieving the lieutenant’s body, any more than we are firing now at the retrieval of their own dead.”
“But what if they do?” I answered, in frustration.
I not only didn’t want to go out onto the mudflat, but I also didn’t want to be out there with the enemy creeping around claiming its own.
“They left our belongings alone up on that plateau a few weeks back, if you will recall,” the Gunny intoned, this time raising his voice to a more normal level. “They aren’t monsters and they do play by a set of rules. They didn’t send their men out onto the field to be mowed down by our Marines. Somehow, they depended upon a similar code we might honor as they do.”
“But we can’t be sure,” I replied, knowing his argument had real gravitas while mine sounded a bit nervous and skittery.
Then again, the Gunny wasn’t going out there. The companies could not afford the loss of both the Gunny and I and we both knew it, and Gunny was the most influential and important among the two of us. No discussion had taken place about that issue, and there needed to be none.
“It’s your call, Junior,” was all the Gunny replied.
Suddenly another body flopped down into the mud along my right side.
“It’s Russell, sir, and we want to go out with you.”
I looked at the young lieutenant, and then over at his clone. Both looked to me like they were grade-schoolers, and I wondered how I, after only a month in the A Shau, appeared to them for both to refer to me, a fellow lieutenant, as sir.
I nodded once and then turned back to face the Gunny, the right side of my face almost in contact with the leech riddled mud.
“No, it’s your call, just as it has almost always been,” I whispered. “We’re going out. If we don’t make it, then in the write up about us would you please not tell anyone that we were this stupid?”
Only the second smile I’d ever seen from the man swiftly flew across the Gunny’s face before it was gone as it had never been there.
<<<<<< The Beginning | Next Chapter >>>>>>
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Sorry to be late in responding James but I was up North hunting and with no internet. Excellent writing as always. Not to be picky but in the opening paragraph describing “Puff” shouldn’t it be chainsaw and not bandsaw? Keep up the great writing.
I really appreciate your continued support, Chuck.
Noted and corrected,
Semper fi,
Jim
A great story deserves a great story teller. You more than qualify.
Minor suggestions;
Rearrange the placement of ‘punishment ‘ to read ‘enduring punishment no matter what was thrown at them’
Make the verbs past tense in ‘eased out’ and ‘pushed out’ describing the body retrieval
Thank you, Don
Semper fi,
Jim
Thanks for another riveting chapter James.
Seeing humanity being shown in the horrid conditions of war must be truly mind boggling ..
Glad you’re back at it.
SEMPER Fi
Yes, watching frightened kids trying to be anything but what were were, or
where we were some something else. Just laying all night in the mud next to someone
else in the same awful raining misery was better than being alone, however.
Semper fi
Jim
I hadn’t realized you had a event with your health, I’m so glad your on the mend.
“Killing other humans is not something that comes naturally to us. It has to be driven into us by fear and hard circumstances….”
That entire reply, says a lot.
A riveting story
No, Mike, we did not get this far in taking over the planet by killing one another,
although that is the subject of so much media, including these three novels. We did all this
by our ability to be social and stick together. Killing humans is a rotten experience, at the time,
and then more so as the years go by.
Thanks for the great comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
James, well done! You are no longer telling a story, you are re-telling our shared life from combat. Glad it is becoming clearer what you want to tell. And yes the details are very visually appearing to you and you are recording for us. Like so many readers I have been with you through all the chapters.
Thanks Marlin, for being right here…and there…with me through this.
Means more to me than I can say.
Semper fi,
Jim
Thank You for another episode in the daily survival of the company. I can appreciate the use of necessary firepower, with Cowboy aiding the assault on the mountain. I’ve seen the effective firepower of “Puff” and the accuracy of it’s available firepower. Waiting for the next entry in the story.
The next segment will be up Thursday, so fear not! It was quite something to see those weapons work in actually combat,
and I’m willing to bet there are that many humans around who’ve seen such and then wrote about it. I get so tired of screenplay
writers who get it all wrong, either because they lack the life experience or they do it on purpose to support the mythology
of machoism that surrounds almost all war portrayals. There are no tough macho men in combat unless they are FNGs and then
they are generally dead mach men. There is a whole lot of fear, however, and deprivation socially, food, comfort and you name it.
Thanks for letting me run on…
Semper fi,
Jim
You are an amazing writer Jim. The way you write keeps me transfixed and I my world comes to a halt when you post something new and its absolutely nerve wracking when a segment ends and there is no more to read. I wish so much that my father was still alive so he could read your story as well. As a veteran of 3 tours in Vietnam with 3rdMarDiv he would have really appreciated it. Keep up the outstanding work. I impatiently await the next parts. Semper Fidelis.
Thank you Vincent, I do work at it. I am so sorry your Dad passed. As you read from the comments here,
some of the greatest comments are from other combat vets. The devil is in the details and that’s why
the entire series will be longer than Dumas’ Count of Monte Cristo. Thanks for the neat comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
I got faked out by part 3 of Day 28 being listed before 2. I read it first before I scrolled to 2. The lack in continuity was more than made up for by the human drama of part 2. Very moving, hell of a job.
As I scanned the comments it appears you had a cardiac event. This past June was the 30th anniversary of my first one. I had a triple bypass about 12 years ago 1/3 of which quickly collapsed. I take my meds, but never eat boiled chicken. A long winded way to say you will be fine. Running is overrated anyway.
Thank you again for the series.
Yes, I have to go under the knife on January 8th for a single bypass.
Trepidation. Why? After all I’ve been through one would think there would be almost no blip on the radar.
But, we all are all human and want to be here as long as we can.
Thanks for the care and understanding and support as expressed here.
Semper fi,
Jim
I look daily for your next installment. It’s with true amazement that anyone with your experiences comes home from war with any sanity left.
You are writing a great book! Giving insight into the world of a fighting marine.
I did not come how with any sanity left. I borrowed the sanity of others for many years and then
deadened things with alcohol and drugs for a bit too. Finally surfaced and it is family and friends that brought
me through, even though they could not possibly understand because I could not tell them what you are reading in
this series. Most of my family does not read it now and I don’t push the subject. I am writing this for the record
an for you….and a bit for me since these comments have injected me with great new life and comfort.
Semper fi,
Jim
time to finish I bought the first two read most of this one but time to finish screw the cat
Jesse. I write The Cat and Island in the Sand, as buffers to the bitter pill reality of Thirty Days. It is simply part of how I am
put together and keep going these days.
Semper fi,
Jim
The Douglas Skyraider is my favorite plane of all time. The huge radial engine, husky body, and incredible options for firepower made it so successful for its purpose. That it came so late in the era of Prop-driven planes, and survived so well into the Jet era, is a testament to it’s excellent design.
I’m sure that the sound of those engines coming gave the enemy the same feeling as the drums did for you.
Thanks again for sharing with us, your eager audience.
The Skyraider is my favorite airplane too, for those reasons and more.
It gave us comfort and assurance that we were not alone and it drove fear deep into the enemy and
many times held them at bay.
Semper fi, and thanks for the compliment and writing it on here.
Jim
I always remember the NVA and Viet Cong trying to retrieve their dead. They didn’t always make it as I recall.
I think you can get rid of the “of” in “suppression of fire.” Also, I believe “twenty-millimeter machine guns” are actually considered “cannon.”
I can only write from the perspective of what happened to me, but I get what you are saying.
I don’t know what other units did in different, or even similar circumstance.
Semper fi,
Jim
Thanks for keeping it coming LT, a second smile from Gunny Huh, sounds like one hell of a Marine, as are you.
Well, he was one hell of a Marine, and I am still making up my mind about my own performance,
as you know from the reading. I see no plaudits or honors for what I did in what happened, only to get the
genuine comments of others here who went through similar unrecorded trials that tried men’s very souls. I get
plenty from these comments and they’ve helped me stay the course and charge into the end of the odyssey.
Semper fi, and thank you.
Jim
Hey Lt. Instances of real humor must surely have been few and far between in that God forsaken Valley. Glad you are able to recall one coming from one such as the Gunny. Taciturn to a fault, his reaction to your rather wry comment shows there is/was a good bit of humanity left in him, at that time anyhway.. Good to see you back. Take care..
I never thought the Gunny lacked for humanity. At first I thought he was harsh and demanding. Later I came to find
him consistently difficult in testing me but also supporting those plans I would bring up and then implimenting
them nearly perfectly. he did it all without ever revealing who he really was inside or what his true background was.
Thanks for the comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
Awesome Thanks for getting anther one out so fast. When you are all done I would like to brng book one I have and buy other two and if you could sign in person. Don
I will be happy to make that come true. The third book I hope to have finished, God willing and the creed don’t rise,
by the end of this month. Then we can plan something. Thanks for the great support and motivation.
Semper fi,
Jim
It was always an amazement the resilience of them to survive the conditions and come back to fight again. One must respect that.
I sure learned to and then did it myself, time and again.
Thanks for weighing in on that,
Semper fi,
Jim
So glad your back. We, your loyal readers, appreciate the good and bad of both your/our experiences. There and age now that accommodates the pain that now and then allow a Gunny simile. God Bless and “thanks for the memories”.
Thanks for being ‘one of guys’ out there who has gained something from following along with this odyssey.
Long three book series for only Thirty Days, but the devil is in the details and I could not deny any of them.
They have just come at me, like the Bong Song in flood…
Semper fi,
Jim
Another gripping installment.
Thanks for that short compliment John. Means a lot to me to have you take the time to write it on here for everyone to see…
Semper fi,
Jim
I had some experience in the 82nd with the 106mm recoilless rifle and its .50 cal spotting rifle which was mounted on top and had a trajectory almost identical to the big round. To be recoilless, the gun had to offset the inertia of the projectile by venting the majority of the propellant gases to the rear resulting in a huge boom and a shorter effective range than the standard 105mm artillery piece.
“…could not afford the loss of both the Gunny and (me).”
You managed two great segments in a row, James… I can’t wait ’til Thursday!
Floyd
The additional fact that the 105 rounds also weighed twice what the 106 rounds did, but the drama of short range launches with the
sound and direct fire capability was undeniably effective on the battlefield, particularly in a place like the A Shau where
everything was crowded down in and along the bottom.
Semper fi,
Jim
“We’re going out. If we don’t make it, then in the write up about us would you please not tell anyone that we were this stupid?” This had me rolling… Stupid maybe… but certainly Semper Fidelis.
I remembered saying that and I remembered that nobody thought it was very funny at the time! Now, it’s pretty funny. It wasn’t stupid, however, as it is what Marines try to do for the fallen. Thanks for that, and on here too…
Semper fi,
Jim
Nice to read that there was honor in this hell on earth. Maybe this signals some hope for the human condition.
Last line, as “if” it had never been there.
There was some honor between forces down there in that valley of death and misery,
but it was a quiet, unspoken and ethereal thing. Maybe such strange moments are true
in most combat. I was only truly in combat, not isolated missions, that one period in Vietnam
however.
Semper fi,
Jim
Yes, remember in the movie, Warhorse, how both sides came out of the trenches to free the animal from the barbed wire? Demonstrates the humanity of the soldier and also the callousness of the generals who think it’s a good idea to be in…Afghanistan, for example.
I’m not much certain at all about what I see in movies. I only know about combat from what I was in and I’ve found that most screenwriters live a long way from any reality.
We had some strange ‘honor’ moments in Vietnam. I did, anyway. They were not formal and they came out of the blue.
Semper fi,
Jim
James, Thank you for another episode.
The respect given to the dead by both sides illustrates their shared humanity. A “time out” from war to retrieve the fallen.
A couple of minor editing thoughts follow:
// Just wondering about the number of napalm canisters dropped //
dropped two of the huge canisters of napalm from under each wing
// my guess is “dropped two of the huge canisters of napalm one from under each wing” //
All three planes dropped their remaining napalm supplies on the very top of the mountain
// Then napalm load of Skyraider is four? //
All three planes X they returned three more times = 12 sorties
Skyraiders had gone back and forth to their base to pour at least sixteen giant burning canisters of napalm down upon its sides.
// Seems as if minimum of 24 and max of 48 napalm bombs. //
The crawling natives, only half-clothed, looking almost exactly like slowly moving parts of the landscape itself ease out from the brush surrounding Hill 975, and then move out onto the flat to drag bodies back toward the hill, always positioning the bodies so they could drag them by their wrists and not their feet.
Maybe past tense for “ease” and “move”
The crawling natives, only half-clothed, looking almost exactly like slowly moving parts of the landscape itself eased out from the brush surrounding Hill 975, and then moved out onto the flat to drag bodies back toward the hill, always positioning the bodies so they could drag them by their wrists and not their feet.
No mention of resupply.
Always at your own pace.
Blessings & Be Well
I have read of other occurrences of this same phenomenon among combatants. Back in WWII and even Korea,
but I have not read of any in detail except that unofficial Christmas Armistice in WWII where the troops acted with
honor after which their leaders did not. Here is just went down the way it did…and then we went back at it.
Semper fi,
Jim
Edit my edit:
Maybe change “Skyraiders had gone back and forth to their base to pour at least sixteen giant burning canisters of napalm down upon its sides.”
To: Skyraiders had gone back and forth to their base to pour almost fifty giant burning canisters of napalm down upon its sides.
Yeah, Read about the British and German troops in the first Christmas of WWI who came out of their trenches; exchanged food; sang carols; some played soccer … and the Generals back in their safe quarters were furious.
Story from WWII had an American infantry company that had been in tough combat advancing. They crested a ridge and saw two German soldiers below at a small cabin. The Germans realized their danger and made a run for it. The entire company opened up in their direction; but the Germans escaped unharmed. The Americans had had enough of killing and so everyone made the unspoken choice to let those guys go. Such is war. Maybe the Germans survived to tell their grandchildren about it.
Killing other humans is not something that comes naturally to us. It has to be driven into us by fear and hard circumstance.
If it comes in any other way, it probably never leaves. “I shall fight no more, forever.” Chief Joseph. I abridge that to
say I will fight no more forever unless it is brought to my door, through it and then down into the basement where I am holed up.
Then I will fight, but also know what it will cost me when the fighting is over.
Semper fi,
Jim
So glad you’re back and healthy, 3 episodes and another Cat episode, hoping your wife isn’t too upset. Anxiously awaiting the last day and what it brings. Thanks and enjoy the ice castle this year.
Third Cat episode this night Pete, as I work on the 28th third part
into tomorrow.
Thanks for the support and writing about it on here…
Semper fi,
Jim
Made a trek down to Alabama to celebrate the 80th Birthday of my Platoon Sgt last year. He was a Jolly Happy fellow at his party. I don’t remember him laughing once while we were in country. Sure glad he (and I) made it home.
There was not a lot of humor in the Nam, if you were in contact at all.
Dying isn’t funny and it’s right there in front of you all the time, as I am
sure you will recall…
Semper fi, and thanks for you own experience…
Jim
No edits that I could detect. Short chapter but packed a lot of info preparing to be resupplied and retrieving McInerney’s body.
Anticipation building!
Thanks,
Jim
Thanks Jim, the filling segments into the night are a bit longer.
Appreciate the editing review.
Semper fi,
Jim
Thanks James,
Excellent as usual. Two suggestions, but of course original script gets the thought accross.
“That’s not the point,” the Gunny rasped out, his voice nearly a whisper. “They won’t fire on you retrieving the lieutenant’s body, any more than we are firing now at the retrieval of their own dead.”
Perhaps: “firing now at them retrieving their own dead”
“The companies could not afford the loss of both the Gunny and I.”
Perhaps: “Gunny and me”
Thanks for the help Waynor. Much appreciate the help I get from editors on here.
You are all I have!
Semper fi, and many thanks,
Jim
Just as you got better at what you did in the field daily, your writing as well is better. If there was something in this one I sure didn’t see it! Of course with your usual intensity and drawing me into the action I may have blown by it without knowing it! Well done. Damn good story telling Lieutenant!
Thanks Mike. It was a hell of a story to live, and I am more and more comfortable in the telling
as it has come back in so much more detail than I ever thought it would. And I’m okay with it.
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim, that is probably the best part of telling the story – takes some of the energy off it. I am happy for you. Now get back to work!
Thanks Mike, much appreciate the comment and the encouragement to get back to work…
Semper fi,
Jim
Two more riveting chapters! I noticed that Hultzer has several different spellings. Exceptional story.
Yes, I am cross-eyed sometimes when it comes to getting names correct
Sorry!
Semper fi,
Jim
Stupid Kindle changed Semper to Seller when I sent my comment.
I caught it. Nothing to worry about, but thanks for taking the time to write…
Semper fi,
Jim
Tension builds!
Pet peeve grammar issue – “Gunny and I” should be “Gunny and me”. This is an error that has become more and more common – I even hear it on news broadcasts. However, it does not detract from the story.
Seller Fi!
Yes, you are correct, although it can be a hard one to see when rereading.
Appreciate the help and the spot on accuracy.
Semper fi,
Jim
Lt, the strength of your heart, not just in the physical sense continues to amaze me as does your courage in reliving the trauma that you share with those of us who were not in that dreadful valley…Bless you and as always Semper Fi…
Thanks Cappy, and that compliment means a lot to me as well as the blessing…
Semper fi,
Jim
One of your best.
Thanks Robert, and I am continuing at a rapid pace now.
Semper fi,
Jim
Told you JIM he cares more than you thought at that time !!! I am sure your view changed, at least I hope it did. But that’s just another E 5 BUCK’S opinion.
Yes, substantially over time, as you guessed…and thanks for pointing that out.
Semper fi,
Jim
Great again Sir!
Thanks Roger, means a lot to me…
Semper fi,
Jim