The Ontos blew a hole in the jungle where the NVA fifty caliber had opened up from. With the resupply chopper down, Hultzer pulled all the stops out, firing both flechette rounds and high explosives. Two of the Cobra gunships slowly approached the edge of the jungle, moving just fast enough to keep their noses down and their rotary cannons firing on target. My thoughts about Sugar Daddy’s survival were mixed, about probability and also about concern, but my thoughts and concern were not as great as my surprise that the penetrating .50 caliber had not gone for the CH-46, a target so big, loud and nearby that it could not have been ignored or missed without deliberation. Why had they not fired at the chopper?
Sugar Daddy had gone over the northern edge of the bridge or been blown over that edge because of being hit with rounds from the fifty, but it had all happened in just a few seconds. The only certainty was that there were Marines laying dead or severely wounded in the water near where the Ontos had recently sat.
There were no orders necessary to give, as a team of men was already crawling along the muddy approach to the near end of the thing, but they didn’t move out onto the exposed surface, instead entering the rushing water and using the upriver side of the bridge to slowly head toward the other side of the river.
“He’s alive,” Fusner whispered to me, across the few feet of the open hole that separated us.
“Is he hit?” I asked back, knowing Fusner was on the command net with what had to be the Gunny’s radio operator.
I could see nothing of the rescue operation that had to be going on, as somehow Sugar Daddy, even with the for show ammo belts weighing him down, had managed to hold on until help arrived.
Slowly they worked together, a clump of men, no individual distinguishable among them, as they eased their way back to the near bank. They then crawled toward the nearby fox holes. I realized that they’d basically stripped Sugar Daddy, because the dramatically crossed ammo belts were gone, and except for his great size and black skin, would have been impossible to tell from the others. Fusner was right, the sergeant was alive and moving to safety, although small arms fire had stopped after the firing of the 106 recoilless guns mounted on the Ontos.
There would be no writeup for courage under fire, nor would there be an after-action report, unless someone other than I wrote it. Sugar Daddy had made an uncommon mistake in judgment and the result was three more dead Marines. The penalty for that would be paid through his continued service in the company, and the ultimate result for every Marine in the company was very likely going to be the same.
The new officers assembled and moved toward my position, their new poncho covers glistening in the waning light, brief shafts of sparkly flashes penetrating the misty winds generated by mild temperature shifts created by the coming of night. The Gunny had sent word through his radio operator that they were coming, having been offloaded by the supply chopper that had landed up near the old abandoned airstrip. That the chopper had come in, dropped its load, and then be able to pull out without being destroyed was a likely function of only two causes. One was the surrounding beehive of Huey gunships battalion had sent to accompany it and the other was the ominous ever-present threat transmitted throughout the entire expanse of the valley by the deep beating thrum of Cowboy’s Skyraider force.
“They’re coming,” Fusner needlessly warned.
At least Sugar Daddy was about to become someone else’s problem, as there seemed little doubt that I would be relieved, I thought. I harbored a tiny hope that the new ruling officers of the companies would require that I be somehow sent to the rear in disgrace, to either be repatriated home like a coward or sent to Okinawa for trial.
I watched the three officers proceed down the informally beaten but muddy riverbank path. Each officer had a personal RTO. The three radiomen trailed behind, the officers were probably unaware that the many meters of separation of the two groups was of no purpose. The radio operators were allowing their officers to be the point in their movement. I sighed, waiting for their arrival, now long experienced in the fact that in real close combat men did not help other men. They used them. If helping other men allowed for better survival odds, then help was provided. The officers were FNG’s, revealed by the tiny nuance of their oblivious conduct alone. Their radio operators wanted as much distance as they could get from the FNGs. I knew I was not going to be so fortunate to avoid them, as all three would no doubt outrank me.
“Junior,” the lead officer yelled, from some distance away, performing another function, raising one’s voice in a jungle combat situation, that indicated what he was, but the tone of his voice was filled with mirth and I could not help feeling a positive rush course through my mind and body.
I had become inured to the deadness of emotion combat had induced within me.
“Captain,” I responded, assuming his rank because he wore none visible anywhere on his helmet or uniform. I expressed no emotion and made no move to climb from my hole to greet him.
“I know the story about your helmet,” the big officer said, his two associate officers having fallen back as if to give the captain sufficient room to dominate the scene.
The three stood looking down at me, their poncho’s dripping. Somehow they’d found little sprigs of jungle material to stick into the webbing laid over their helmets, and the ends of them dripped small drops in different directions as they moved their heads while talking or looking around. Most of the Marines in the A Shau had long ago dropped such attempts to be in disguise or hidden from the enemy’s detection.
In fact, I was one of the few Marines in either company to wear a helmet at all. There was little point. Helmets were most effective for using as a water basin or keeping harder falling rain from directly contacting one’s head. They did not stop bullets or artillery shrapnel or much of anything else. Combat Marines wore rough bush hats or rags tied with four knots to form a tight strange-looking skull cap. They wore the coverings against the rain, bugs and to keep their hair flat. There was no hiding from enemy detection in the A Shau. The NVA always knew where we were but their own limited availability of ammo and weapons supply and their constant fear of our massively killing supporting fires kept them from overwhelming attacks.
“There’s a story about my helmet?” I asked, surprised, resisting the temptation to take it off and examine the damaged thing.
The chunk of shrapnel still stuck out of the front of it, accumulated by its previous owner, not to mention a plethora of other dents and scratches I’d managed to add. I stared at the three men, the light waning from day into misty dusk, making them look like they were apparitions from some Christmas movie shot in all black and white.
“I’m not a captain,” the lead officer said, brushing aside my question.
“Okay,” I replied, assuming the three were lieutenants, “who’s senior?”
My serial number in the Corps was 0104328, which meant that I was the officer commissioned who was the hundred and four thousand three hundred and twenty-eighth since the beginning of the Marine Corps. Officers of the same rank demonstrated seniority by date of rank but the serial number comparison was more definitive because everyone in the Corps memorizes that number for life and the lower number is always senior. However, no recitation of serial numbers was required.
“You are,” the officer responded. “We came out to assist you, since the casualties from this area have been so high, until such time as both companies can be retired to the rear area for necessary rest, recreation and retraining.”
I had a hard time believing what the man was saying. The Gunny appeared out from a position below and behind me, up from where the river ran nearby. He spoke without introduction or preamble.
“Why are your RTO’s laying on the deck?” he asked, as all three officers looked around to where their Marines lay sprawled behind them.
“Did you fail to hear the fire that was just directed back and forth across this river?” the Gunny went on, his tone flat, low and hard. “Get your asses in the hole and drop those packs.”
“Yes, sir,” one of the officers replied, not understanding that the Gunny was not a superior officer, and also letting me know, by that lack of knowledge, they didn’t have much idea of what the companies were composed of in personnel. As upside-down as everything was it didn’t seem too out of place that the Gunny was addressed as sir while I was Junior.
I wanted to shake my head in wonder, however, over the incongruity of what I’d come to know about sending Marines down into the valley. No experienced ranking company-grade officers could, apparently, be coaxed or sent in, so three brand new officers, officers like I’d been, were quickly ushered aboard choppers and sent out, with some flimsy excuse that they were being sent to help in a difficult situation.
Nguyen and Fusner immediately emerged from the hole, as the officers approached, the opening of the hole being plenty large enough for them to get by me without any problem. They listened to every word said around them I knew, and usually without comment. How Nguyen understood so much and so quickly I had no idea, but the look in his eyes was always the same. He backed me to the hilt, all the time and at any time, and that look sometimes was what kept me going. The three officers gingerly climbed into the hole, also taking great pains to not touch or disturb me. I turned back to the river to take in the scene before me as it was beginning to slowly dim in the waning light.
The supply choppers had come and gone from both sides of the river, as had the Cobra gunships and the Skyraiders. It was the approach of night, with mist and more rain on the way to be delivered from above in the darkness. One moment the sky had been filled with screaming turbines and propeller blades and the next it was quiet except for the ever-present rush of the river’s raging waters and the patter of falling raindrops coming down on the surface of my helmet.
There was no fire coming from the jungle or anywhere else and, at first, that seemed ominous until I realized why. The NVA hadn’t left a firebase or rear guard. They were headed downriver. Downriver was the only way they could get to us, and there was no Marine force across the river to pursue them, so they had no need of a base of fire or rear guard. It would be a hammer and anvil situation. Our companies would be driven upriver and then trapped up against Hill 975 in the night, with no supporting fires available except from the Ontos. Somewhere downriver, further than I’d ever ventured, there was a place they had to be able to cross the raging waters. They would cross and come up on our side, flanking us as they came into a full attack because there was no way we had the personnel to saturate the heavy jungle that lay between the river and the eastern canyon wall. That flanking attack would cause us to have to move upriver one step at a time. But there was nowhere to go upriver unless we could somehow get past Hill 975, and their troops that had to be filling it like bees in a beehive, knowing that we were coming.
“We’re going to need the Starlight Scope again,” I said, needlessly, to the Gunny, briefly thinking I’d need someone special to operate the device, and hoping we had someone like that.
Night was coming and it would be another dark night, with heavy monsoon cloud cover and the ever-present rain or drizzle coming down. Penetration of what light would be available would be amplified by the scope but would it be enough? In order for the plan developing in my head to work, we had to be able to see in front of us, and then also be able to peer into a part of the jungle I well remember from weeks before. Where I’d holed up hiding in a slot into the jungle growth next to the river, where the Gunny had found me, there was a sort of clearer area through the single canopy that extended all the way to the canyon wall. I’d not thought anything of the clearing in the quick glance I’d taken in recognizing it as different from the dense jungle area all around it. It was almost like a big bulldozer had gone through the debris and beaten down a flat track through the jungle floor.
“They’re going downriver,” the Gunny replied, ignoring my comment. “They’re going to take maybe three or four hours, or a bit more, and then come up our side and I don’t see any place for us to be. Dug in here, even with the Ontos and resupplied, we can’t hold against a regiment on the attack, much less a sapper regiment below and another regiment, no doubt, inside that hill.”
The Gunny took out a cigarette and began lighting it with his special lighter.
I hadn’t seen the Gunny look or sound quite so glum before and it shook me. I waited, trying to think about the developing plan in my head while at the same time getting it together so presenting it might make the Gunny feel better.
Fusner turned his little transistor radio up, to catch the last tune coming out of Na Trang over the Armed Forces Radio Network. Brother John introduced Del Shannon’s Runaway, by saying that everyone listening should pay attention to the lyrics. The song played. I listened, not being able to associate or make sense of much of what Brother John had meant until the middle of the song: “ I’m walkin’ in the rain, tears are fallin’ and I feel the pain, wishin’ you were here by me, to end this misery…”
All I could think of was my wife. I wondered if my letter had gotten aboard the chopper. I wondered how long it took letters to get all the way back to San Francisco from where I was. I wondered after I was dead, whether the letters continuing to come in would be a good or horrible thing. I suddenly snapped out of my reverie. The plan illuminated in my mind from out of nowhere.
“We’re going to move downriver in the shallows, low, light and fast, using the Starlight Scope to make sure we’re running in the clear,” I explained to the Gunny. “The Ontos will follow, moving real slow and noisy, with Sugar Daddy’s platoon strung out in layers between the bank and the jungle. The NVA will assume we’re gathered with and around the Ontos for protection, but we’ll be running out front, nearly naked, except for our small arms and the M-60s. No packs, no extra ammo, nothing. We blow right by them, and then hit that drift or break where you found me about three clicks down. We cross to the canyon wall and attack right up their rear. The Ontos then turns and heads straight back upriver, preventing the NVA from doing anything but running toward Hill 975. We have a ton of Prick 25’s to stay in close communication, what with our new officers. And that’s where it gets interesting. We pin them against their own hill and hold them there for the night. We’ll have our full ammo supply back for the M-60s and the Ontos. Hill 975 is a few clicks north of us. I’ll call in a series of fire missions to cause a diversion, firing well short to avoid taking rounds ourselves. We wait for the dawn and then call in all the airpower we can get.”
I stopped talking, realizing that some parts had come to me only as I had been laying it all out. The Gunny blew several puffs of smoke while I’d been talking, inhaling and exhaling fast and steady.
“What’s the name of the plan, sir,” Fusner broke in from my side.
“Walking in the Rain,” I shot back, pulling the name out of Del Shannon’s song lyrics.
“Where in the hell do you get this shit from?” the Gunny breathed out, snapping the remains of his cigarette toward where the river ran noisily nearby. “Sugar Daddy’s platoon?” he went on, “that because those guys are black as night?”
“No,” I replied, it’s because I don’t like or trust him, but there’s no quit in him, or Jurgens either, for that matter, and he deserves the danger exposure for what he pulled on the bridge. If he wants to earn a medal, as unlikely as that might seem, then he’s going to really earn it.”
I waited then, unintentionally holding my breath. A full minute seemed to pass.
“I like some of it,” the Gunny finally said. “Walking in the rain? More like running in the rain. And what if they move to the river, behind the Ontos, as we come down, and then turn to attack back up? All of our stuff will be tucked into these holes, just waiting for them. What are our other options?”
I was taken totally by surprise. What other options? The one I’d thought up had come in as if inspiration from God Himself. That I had remembered the pathway from the river in toward the canyon wall was astounding, even to me, as I’d just glimpsed it in the misting rain at night. The wall had reflected back what little light there was at the time. The path or narrow clearing gave the companies a shot at making it all the way to the wall and then proceeding north with speed and the ability to take the enemy from the rear, or at least drive the NVA regiment to run and then take a stand. The enemy might figure, once the rout was successful, if it was successful, that the Marines would hunker down for the night and wait for coming massive air support the next day, but it could not know that. Stopping a night attack in the rain by a well-equipped Marine force would likely cause as much fear as the Marines receiving the same kind of attack by a full NVA regiment.
I also wondered about the fact that the Gunny had said nothing about my choice of Sugar Daddy and his men to isolate themselves as targets in order to make sure the Ontos was defended, not taken or destroyed. The Gunny’s inability to harness either Sugar Daddy or Jurgens to any kind of real disciplined existence had never really been there at all. It had taken me some time to figure that out. If it involved the Gunny risking himself over the loss of a few Marines then the Marines would be lost and not him. I’d somehow stopped a great deal of the friendly fire slaughter that had been going on in the company, but I had not done that with anything other than the Gunny’s approval, not his open participation.
And, in the final analysis, was I any different than the Gunny. The night the three Marines had come for me I had not hesitated to apply fatal force. There’d been no attempt at communication and no warning. One second they were alive and a few seconds later they were dead. And, I was alive.
The officers clustered inside the hole with me had not said a word, although all had remained erect and paying attention. Their conduct surprised me, as I was used to Marine officers almost always interjecting opinions or ‘assistance’ in some verbal form. I turned to them, noting that the Gunny had lit another cigarette and was preparing hot water using a chunk of Composition B. The acrid smell of the burning explosive reminded me of the physical nightmare we were all living, except for the FNG officers who were about to join us in our shattered and disheveled state. My back had stopped hurting where the leeches had bitten long and deep. Now it just ached, like it had been beaten with a baseball bat. The wet heat was awful and the mist did nothing to cool it. Somewhere there were C-rations because everyone had to eat in order to have the strength it would take for the attack.
“Who are you?” I asked the men just a few feet from me, using the diversion to avoid answering the Gunny’s question.
“Lieutenants Smith, Russell and I’m MacInerny, reporting in, sir,” the one nearest to me replied.
“You heard everything?” I asked, but not one of the three said anything. “Your first night in combat,” I went on, “and you’re in the A Shau and with a functional combat company of Marines. You don’t call me sir. I’m a lieutenant like you. You call me Junior since everyone else does. If you live you’ll get your own nickname. All I can assure you is that you might want to let everyone call you by it and that you won’t like whatever name they have chosen for you. Astronomical sunset is at 1830, which is about now. Full night down here in the valley begins a bit early because we’re at the bottom of a canyon so we’ll be crossing the line of departure not long from right now. All three of you will be taking over Kilo. Our company is used to working without officers but Kilo is used to them, but not this night. This night you’re with me.”
“Why are we staying with you if the companies are attacking and we’re going to command Kilo?” MacInerny asked, his tone indicating that he was fearful of asking the question, or probably of saying anything at all.
“So you’ll be alive in the morning to take over,” the Gunny said, before taking a swig of his coffee and then a deep inhalation from his cigarette. “I’m the Gunny. You can call me the Gunny. If you do what we say, then you’ll stay alive until tomorrow, otherwise, you’ll be like the rest of the officers that leave on the next medevac in body bags.”
“Yes, sir,” MacInerney replied.
The Gunny sighed. “Not sir. Gunny,” he said, although his voice was almost too soft to hear.
“This is all happening right now, then?” MacInerny asked, shock in his voice, “we just got here.”
I looked over at the Gunny through a small cloud of smoke he’d breathed out, the little fire in front of his squatting figure tiny but burning bright, drops of collected mist collected on his dark forehead. Slowly, his mouth curled into the coldest smile I’d ever seen it form.
“Just going for a little walk in the rain,” the Gunny finally said, snapping his cigarette away and then grinding out the burning explosives with the boot of his right heel.
<<<<<< The Beginning | Next Chapter >>>>>>
Why isn’t this chapter included in the book? The heading of the chapter is in the book, but the rest of the chapter is a copy of the “second part”.
I have been reading the series over the years and have all three books. Just disappointed that this section is missing. I for one would like to know how the situation with Sugar Daddy is resolved.
Thanks so much for revealing this printing error. An insert is being prepared for that missing chapter, as the printer left it out and doubled the one before.
You will, of course be allowed to swap this ‘real’ first edition (fifty were printed) for one that has no errors. Thanks.
Semper fi,
Jim
Still waiting on an update on kindle to include this chapter. Nothing on Amazon indicates a new version has been added?
Amazon will not let you know that it has corrected the work, but it has. Thanks for the comment and your concern.
Semper fi,
Jim
I have the faulty book too. How do i go about getting it replaced (bought on Amazon) or at least getting to read the missing chapter..? I’m stuck now as i don’t want to read the next chapter until I’ve read the missing one…..
By the way, I love the books though.
Send me your address and I will send you one that has the insert chapter, which is actually the real first edition.
Semper fi,
Jim
Editorial note:
1st Paragraph, 2nd line. “Huntzler” should be “Hultzer”
…chopper down, Huntzler pulled all the stops out…
Thank you for the note, Chris
Corrected
Semper fi,
Jim
You are absolutely correct when talking about a Marine officers serial number for life, one of the few things I have no trouble remembering. mine was 080546, were you commissioned in 1967 or ‘68? Great read Junior!!! Semper Fi 🇺🇸
Commissioned in November of 1967, although the Basic School Class was much more memorable for the date. 5/68.
Semper fi,
Jim
Told people for years, when asked how old I was, I was 19 and died in Vietnam. My body just didn’t know the difference.
Lots of places in II and III Corp over two years. 1st Cav, Supply, Security and aviation door gunner/crew chief. Quote from WWII accurate, Uncommon Valor was a Common Virtue.
Uncommon and unrecognized valor. In the real thick of the shit there was no time for anything but personal and unit survival.
Semper fi,
Jim
My back had topped* hurting where the leeches had bitten long and deep. Now it just ached, like it had been beaten with a baseball bat. “Stooped” hurting where the leeches…
My only comment on editing.
Now I have a better understanding about my previous question about why did they fire on the bridge and not the 46 – thanks for that. Having been “on the window” as gunner on 46, 34, & 53s it was always a serious concern.
Now I wonder about the wonder of the FNG LTs., as they ponder their future. Great chapter Jim, sorry ( for me) that it took me so long to get to it !!
Keep on keepin on …
SEMPER Fi
Thanks Sgt Bob for asking quiestions and making statements that are also so meaningful to others here who do not comment but read them all.
Thanks for the compliment and your continued interest and loyalty.
Semper fi,
Jim
Guess I can’t spell today – my edit comment was meant to say “stopped ” where you have topped* hurting..
SEMPER Fi
Always appreciate your sharp eyes and insights, Bob.
Noted and corrected,
Semper fi
Jim
Jim/LT/Junior,
Another top-notch chapter describing the continually changing, chaotic saga you and your men were embroiled in. I am amazed at how much you try to get inside the minds of the enemy commanders and figure out what their next steps are…and like a deadly chess game, make your moves to thwart the enemy plans and counter with new plans of your own.
The next episodes will no doubt be tough for you to recall, relive and write–and they will be tough for us as well when we read them. WE are emotionally invested. Your writing has captivated us (your readership) and we, though invisible to you and the actual men in your command, have become part of your unit. We have moved with you through your movements into and up and down the A Shau and your writing has made us to some degree experience what you and your men experienced.
Thank you for writing and sharing your story.
LOTS of your readership check EVERY DAY to see if a new segment is up. We are hooked.
I am putting the next segment up tonight or tomorrow morning, as I must stay on some schedule to
finish by the 30th of September (and start the next book about the survival).
Thanks for the support and the compliments…
Semper fi,
Jim
Been out of touch for a while up in Alaska, back in now, and again wow Lt you keep us on the edge don’t you, Thank you sir, side not, flew in late last night from Atlanta, had a marine with us on our flight, looking good in his tan and blue , and white hat!
The Marines are the Marines, one very unchanging element of honor in a changing world lacking a whole lot of honor…
Semper fi,
Jim
Your form of media presentation takes me back to the early 60’s of the serials showing before the main attraction at the movie theater, bringing the movie goer back each week to keep up with the serial storyline,regardless of the main attraction for that week.It left one wanting more,yet excited to watch the next installment that next Saturday.I’ve successfully conveyed the importance I attach to receiving a segment of your book to my wife that she is genuinely excited for me when I tell her a new piece has arrived.History, being told in the 1st person of who actually lived it in my life time is particularly special.So, waiting for your next contribution—-good stuff———
What a great compliment to start this day with Mark. Some people wonder why I put myself in harm’s way by offering this site with full capability
to remark or critique by anyone without restriction or fear of being trashed or ignored. I do it because the comments like your own are the horsepower
that drives my own emotional engine to continue. This is not an exercise in working for high paid Hollywood executives who’ve made offers. There will
likely be none of those. And no regular publisher will pick this up either, as the material does not fit traditional literary acceptability. Thanks for the
help on here and by your reading at home…
Semper fi,
Jim
Your men were blessed to get an officer with a brilliant mind. Sir, you played a hell of a game of “chess” to keep a step ahead of a very determined and skilled enemy force. Mensa level for sure in IQ.
I know you grieve the men you lost. I believe that I speak for others here. We give thanks for the ones that got out alive because your tactical vision was as great as your gift of writing is. There is no way that you should have come out of that place alive.
I’m glad you did!
According to the Gunny, nobody did come out of that place alive. We came out after dying.
We came out as something else…and have been trying to come to terms with that ‘something else’ for the rest of our lives.
Thanks for the neat comment and kind words…
Semper fi,
Jim
I have some retrospect on a previous comment and would like to relate 2 things;
1 As a writer to invite this level of critique and respond with such dignity shows you have an incredibly hard shell.
2. I would like to elaborate on why I like the ‘un-edited’ versions better than the suggested, sometimes obvious corrections, offered. From the perspective of a reader who “wasn’t there”, I want to say it reads like a field report, but I could never get away with that on this forum as I never actually read a combat field report. Since this is written in perspective of Junior retelling or remembering his story, the grammatic license an spellins help to convey the deep sense of the chronic emotional and mental fatigue of the main character, to a reader like me. The only experience I can relate this to would be like a week+ long single handed sailing voyage. I can follow story (as written) straight forward, so the maybe grammatically difficult passages are part of Juniors story and better left as is. Seems to me they help the necessary supporting parts of the story become a little fuzzy with time or their importance to survival. Like misspelling a guys name in one passage when it was spelled correctly previously and so forth. Yet the crystal clear, ‘bolt of lightning’ type inspirations necessary for everyone’s survival are written crystal clear as if they are happening NOW. There is no way I could pass as an editor of an entire book or series BUT I DO LIKE the ‘manuscripts” as posted. KEEP THEM COMING PLEASE
Now that’s a thoughtfully written and well thought out comment.
Wow. I have to reread.
Do you know Dennis Hayes? He writes comment like that,
that I have to reread and then reread again to really get the true meaning of.
Thanks for the compliment of me being able to take it.
Actually, the critiques on here, and Facebook also, have not been too tough to handle, and in fact, help keep me going.
Like your own comment.
This story would be impossible to tell alone…at least for me.
Semper fi,
Jim
Damn LT, some REMF really must hate you sending all those FNG’s there. I hope their fate is way better than the previous ones!!
As a former Carrier Sailor, I can here those A1’s in my head everytime they come in for a pass.
LST for the last two years and I can hear a chopper way before I see it, even today!
I still see and hear the Skyraider too and I know what Cowboy looks like although I never met nor will ever meet the man.
Semper fi, and thanks for the very apropos comment..
Jim
I see in the comments about the, coming. last chapter and the end of this great account.
There are, those of us reading it, who know , it doesn’t end. It will not end till we have punched out.
You came home in a basket. I did that in 1964. You have in your mind that it’s gonna be alright.
And then, you face the welcome home.
You stomp your snakes, alone. You face your monster, alone. You try to make sense of that shit feeling when your Brothers went down. That indescribable feeling. They are down and you are not. That feeling that will remain, unspoken.
Fifty five years and still, it was yesterday.
Your words bring back so many memories.
No. When you came home, that’s when the going got tough.
Been there, done that. I am just a bitter old man and it don’t mean nuthin.
Yes, the alone thing. You come home among so many but totally alone. Even my wife will not read the books to this day.
The public does not know and in many cases is better off not knowing…but there we are and here we are, with this huge body
of knowledge and nobody to share it with. Blade Runner and the Rutger Huer scened on the roof: “I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe,” Roy says. “Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain.” How does one get used to the idea of holding it all in? Sharing means to cause fear, alienation or at the very least a loss of credibility. Who’s going to believe that shit, much less want to care about it.
Except here, of course, and in the telling of the story…and later when I write the later after the combat stuff…
Semper fi, and thanks for the depth of your comment and the compliment in it…
Jim
I got my email that this chapter was up, that makes it a very good day. As usual, it is a very good read and I find myself right there next to you, talking to me like I was one of those FNG’s.
I find myself looking forward to the next chapter even though it brings you and the company closer to the end of September and what I subconsciously know is a world of chaos and pain.
Thanks Rob, much appreciate the good will and compliment in your words and this comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
I am sitting in Qui Nhon as I write this.
Fifty two years ago I was assigned to the 1st Cav Div at An Khe. On Sept 8 1967 my Platton leader, mentor and friend was shot down and him along with his crew chief and three other rescured died. I had just turned 21 on Aug.23 and was “officialy” a man yet I stood silently crying on the helipad at the loss. Now 52 years later I stood close to the acutal site where they perished and as a man of 73 yrs I cried once again. I cursed and screamed at the world, at the men who put us there and at the politicans that abandoned the Vienames after our so called peace agreement I cried for the nearly 60,000 more who would give there lives. I cried for the ones who die each day at their own hands or of that of agent orange. Real tears that even now run down my face as I write this. I came back to this country to help put those times, those deams those tears behind me. Have I, I just dont know, I hope next week when I climb on the big bird those feelings will be left on the tarmac. In any event I thank you for your story. It helps me to not feel so alone .
God Bless you and all those who have served
I hope you do not mind, Gordon, but I thought so much of the depth of your comment that I put it up on my Facebook page. You hit the nail right on
the head and I cannot thank you enough for going back there and considering and grieving. Maybe I will one day too, although I doubt it. I lack
your kind of direct courage. Thanks again, from the depths of my own heart.
Semper fi
Jim
Outstanding and descriptive. It is wonderful how you take us along with you on this journey, make us feel a part of it.
Yep, I remember the same songs, and hearing them today brings alive those long-ago days.
In a bad spot in my life right now, James. Would appreciate any prayers that you have to spare.
Well, Craig, if the prayers of a broken down old Catholic, but not, Christian can make a difference then
I pray: For this real veteran of the United States, for this real Christian of the real God and this real man
among real mean. I pray that special light will be invisibly generated and then shined warmly down upon the
body and mind of this special man. I pray that You God, will accept that I am so flawed but then also reflect
upon the fact that I have found the capability to actually ask for the good will, health and great mentality of
another without asking for anything myself. I do so pray this night Craig….
Semper fi,
my friend,
Jim
Prayers sent your way Craig. Just know and always remember you are not alone in this walk of life. We are always here for you and whoever needs us.
We are ‘all in’ for Craig…and continuing the vigil…
Semper fi,
Jim
I was stationed at 5th SF Group in “Nha Trang”. You mentioned the Armed Forces Radio Network at Nah Trang. Are they the same place?
Yes, I spelled it wrong. Remember, I only heard the name over the radio, coming out of Brother John’s mouth.
I didn’t look it up on the Internet like I should have.
it was Nha Trang.
Semper fi, and sorry,
Jim
NFG Officers: “This is happening right now, then? “we just got here.”
Shock and disbelief for certain. Hope they make it through the “Walk in the rain”
Yes, it was a shock to go into immediate combat but there was no way around
what went on endlessly during that period at the bottom of that valley…
Semper fi
Jim
Excellent chapter Sir! I don’t know if you realized it at the time, but you were playing a masterful game of chess with the enemy. Always trying to stay several moves ahead with your lives depending on each one. Can’t wait to see how it all plays out!
Even now, in rereading my own work, it is hard to see the game as chess, although it certainly was. I am also pretty good at that game, although I prefer to
play it with pieces and a board! Thanks for the great compliment and the most interesting comment…
Semper fi
Jim
This captivated the reality of war, especially Vietnam. Hot, dirty, and gritty, and your writing is explanatory of it all. Thanks my fellow troop- Hoorah!!!
I am indeed your fellow ‘troop,’ although a Marine through and through.
Thanks for the great compliment and supporting comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
Another great one. Will sad on September 30 but look forward to your follow up chapters
There will be following books Don, because once got out of the hospital
I went right at it working for the Nixon compound in San Clemente, CA
Semper fi,
Jim
Should there be the word “was” in the following sentence? : Nguyen and Fusner immediately emerged from the hole, as the officers approached, the opening of the hole being plenty large enough for them to get by me without any problem. They listened to every word that _____ said around them I knew, and usually without comment.
Another riveting chapter! Excellent reading.
Thanks Bob, for the great compliment and the help with editing.
Semper fi,
Jim
Wow JAMES hope the 3 make it !! So far they sound as they may listen and learn? But unlike you they know not what is the score !!
It was a very tough unforgiving valley at the time…so the chips fall where they fall, as you know, and all I do is record it and let you know…
Semper fi,
Jim
Just amazing how plans came to you. Definitely had someone in your corner. Good to give credit to the Divine. Your ability to recognize and deal with the varied personalities and agendas would be a handful even in civilian life. Keep up the great work… but always at your own pace. There are lots of folks covering your back.
Some editing suggestions follow…
Question number of Marines with Sugar Daddy on the bridge. Previous segment says:
“Sugar Daddy reacted instantly, and with the ammo belts still strapped around his body, leaped backward into the river. The fire team was neither so quick to react nor so lucky. The three Marines went into the river backward but not because they leaped. The power of the .50’s two-ounce bullets, traveling at more than half-mile a second, tore the men apart as they literally blew them off the surface of the bridge.”
Seems as if there are three Marines plus Sugar Daddy.
This segment says:
“Sugar Daddy had made an uncommon mistake in judgment and the result was two more dead Marines.”
Also “The only certainty was that there were Marines laying dead or severely wounded on the surface where the Ontos had recently sat.”
Seems to have the dead Marines on the bridge deck rather than in the water.
The three radiomen trailed behind, the officers probably unaware that they many meters of separation of the two groups was no purpose.
Maybe “the” instead of “they”
Maybe add “of” before “no purpose”
The three radiomen trailed behind, the officers probably unaware that the many meters of separation of the two groups was of no purpose.
Their radio operator’s wanted as much distance
operator’s is possessive. Seems like it should be plural.
Their radio operators wanted as much distance
Combat Marines in combat wore rough bush hats
Maybe drop one of the “combats”
Combat Marines wore rough bush hats
Marines in combat wore rough bush hats
Nguyen and Fusner
They listened to every word that said around them I knew, and usually without comment.
Could be drop the “that”
They listened to every word said around them I knew, and usually without comment.
Or add a “was” after the “that”
They listened to every word that was said around them I knew, and usually without comment.
I turned back to the river to take in the scene before me as it beginning to slowly dim in the waning light.
Maybe add “was” between “it” and “beginning”
I turned back to the river to take in the scene before me as it was beginning to slowly dim in the waning light.
Fusner turned his little transistor radio up, to catch the last tune coming out of Nah Trang
Na Trang
The enemy might figure, once the route was successful, if it was successful, that the Marines would hunker down for the night
Do you mean “rout” as in the Marines rout the NVA?
The enemy might figure, once the rout was successful, if it was successful, that the Marines would hunker down for the night
Sugar Daddy and his men to isolate themselves as targets in order to make sure the Ontos defended, not taken or destroyed
Maybe add a “was” before “defended”
Sugar Daddy and his men to isolate themselves as targets in order to make sure the Ontos was defended, not taken or destroyed
the rest of the officers that leave on the next medivac in body bags.
Medevac
the rest of the officers that leave on the next medevac in body bags.
Hope this helps.
Blessings & Be Well
Wow, what a load of help here. Chuck is on it, making the changes. Thanks so very much and for the great compliment at the start too.
What a grand load of work!
Semper fi,
Jim
Forgive me James once more for having been shaken to astonishment at the interplay between Junior and his team. Of all the players, again…I’m hard-pressed to imagine what was going on in the Gunny’s head that could’ve been the catalyst for his coldest of smiles. Wow! He’d caught wind of something, that’s for sure!. Something other than the incoming night or the chances of making it to dawn. I cant help but think maybe it’d come courtesy of the shirts and the skins, yet more likely I’d say…simply,
by way of being marines…one and all!
An exceptionally moving end to the day, Lieutenant…
Where a walk in the rain can outpace a run through the jungle.
Semper fi,
ddh
Thanks Dennis for the great depth of your comment and how well written it is. Fun read and so cogently clear.
Semper fi, my friend,
Jim
Trapped in thought again with nothing to say. Another set of deep memories. Excellent! Smiley
Thanks Doc, right there with you…
Semper fi,
Jim
Damn! Your chapters continue to bring back memories I have fought to keep hidden. My shrink wants them out but they must stay back. I don’t know if it is because I’m old now or the pills the shrink prescribed but emotions I have not felt in over 52 years come back while reading. F at never came before or during a fight but came after for a while. Helping the wounded and bagging the dead. My 2nd tour was easier until hurt 1/2 way through. I was pissed and wanted to go back. They did an med instead. Probably thought I was crazy more than my injuries. So tonight I was again pissed and after reading fear returned for the 1st time. Your work here should be mandatory reading for every liberal in the country.
God bless our troops
Jrw. I am a ‘liberal’ as you put it. Sorry to report that. I was a conservative republican until my party got up and walked away from compassion, understanding,
accountability, education, infrastructure and more. But that’s a discussion for somewhere else. Junior in Vietnam tried to do what was needed to be done to survive
and back here I try to do the same thing. The avenues and streets that mission requires is viewed differently by us all…
Thanks for th great comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
Another excellent read James…and the FNGs, they were always clueless…all you can do is hope they listen and do what they are told…to survive and fight another day. I think the shit is about to get real…and I love the plan name…and you are right about the music…I have a lot of favorites from back in the day…”Run through the Jungle” for one…I anxiously await the next segment…
Thanks Mark, you are spot on about the music and the FNGs of course.
Thanks for the compliment at the end of your comment too…
Semper fi,
Jim
I cannot help but get totally involved with what was going on and where you were . We served in about the same area at about the same time . The 46’s that came for you were parked right next to our aircraft and I did know a few of the crews by sight .When you write I live each word , I can remember the smell and feel of the time .I was the NBC/special operations guy with the squadron , so I did some ground work . Glad you are here to write this story , Semper Fi Lt. Semper Fi .
I am always very happy to get such verification from others who were right nearby at the time and in that place.
I am not on my own and you guys and gals make it all much better than it was for so many years.
Thank you for that and for writing what you have written here.
Semper fi,
Jim
Excellent as always. One thing caught my eye in the last paragraph.
then grinding out the burning explosives with the boot of his right heel.
Maybe should be: With the heel of his right boot
thanks Stephen, I am on it. Appreciated the help and the compliment…
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim,
We’re all here. Always. Never left. We are rockin on with you, thinking we know what’s up, impressed with the plans, surprised at the simplistic audacity. What a freakin great read. Thanks for taking the chances, then and now.
Thanks for the observation that there are chances being taken right now too. Most would and don’t get that. It’s risky to tell the truth about combat,
from a legal as well as a social standpoint. But here I am, out on this writing diving board and wondering if there’s much water in the pool below…
knowing that at some point I’m going to have to take the leap…
Semper fi,
Jim
Lt. a minor correction on the spelling of Nha Trang, not Nah Trang. Looking forward to each new chapter.
Wally
Got that Bruce and thanks for the help and the compliment…
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim/LT/Junior,
Another top-notch chapter describing the continually changing, chaotic saga you and your men were embroiled in. I am amazed at how much you try to get inside the minds of the enemy commanders and figure out what their next steps are…and like a deadly chess game, make your moves to thwart the enemy plans and counter with new plans of your own.
The next episodes will no doubt be tough for you to recall, relive and write–and they will be tough for us as well when we read them. WE are emotionally invested. Your writing has captivated us (your readership) and we, though invisible to you and the actual men in your command, have become part of your unit. We have moved with you through your movements into and up and down the A Shau and your writing has made us to some degree experience what you and your men experienced.
Thank you for writing and sharing your story.
LOTS of your readership check EVERY DAY to see if a new segment is up. We are hooked.
Thanks Walt, always good to hear from you.
Thanks for the very well written comment and the compliments written inside it.
I write alone but I have come to sense you guys with me out there…and man oh man, does that help me keep going and
also stay true…
Semper fi, my friend,
Jim
So where do you get this shit from? By doing the unexpected you have managed time and again to not only stay alive but keep others alive as well. Even the gunny has gone along with your ideas, bitching all the way but has recognized the plans as keeping the enemy at bay most of the time and allowing the survival of the Marines, him included. Another fantastic chapter. Keeps all us following the story looking for more everyday. Thanks LT.
Thanks for the great compliment the entirety of your comment really is. Thanks so much for helping me to keep going.
Semper fi,
Jim
James, my eyes light up each time I see you have posted another chapter! I also am saddened knowing we are closing in on the end of an epic experience- yours. Keep on keeping on sir!
Russ
Member- Tonkin Gulf Yacht Club ‘68
Thanks a ton for this short but oh so meaningful comment Russ. I am so happy that my writing actually reaches people
and knowing that, which I get back from you and others like you on here, helps me keep going…
Semper fi,
Jim
The read is worth the wait. Bated breath, wondering what the next paragraph will bring. I grew up without TV, only radio and books. I remember well the voices on the radio painting such vivid pictures of the drama that unfolded over the air, and the pages that virtually came alive in my mind, in living color. Your writing stirs those same feelings in me, wringing my stomach in knots at times, causing me to wince from the pain you felt from the leeches, smelling the cigarette and rancid smell of the jungle. Then I jar to my senses in my comfortable arm chair in air conditioned comfort, somberly reflecting that this is real, this is not made up. Damn good reading. Damn good writing. Damn hard memories. Well done, sir.
Wonderfully written Marshall, as usual. Thank you for adding to my day and helping me to write what I write.
And thanks for the depth of your compliment. It reached me, as you knew it would…
Semper fi
Jim
I’ve never read such exciting writing. When I get into one of your chapters, I’m there with you; ,puckered and anxious as hell. Also dirty and sweating. Thanks for another goodie.
Thanks Ed, much appreciate the depth of your compliment and for sticking with me and the story.
Keeps me sticking with it too…
Semper fi,
Jim
Great chapter James:
Editorial Notes:
Line 2 of first paragraph “Huntzler pulled all the stops out”.
I believe his last name in prior chapters was “Hultzer”
Line 2 of 13th paragraph from the bottom needs the word “was” added after the word Ontos:
I also wondered about the fact that the Gunny had said nothing about my choice of Sugar Daddy and his men to isolate themselves as targets in order to make sure the Ontos (was) defended, not taken or destroyed.
Line 6 of the 11th paragraph from the bottom needs to add an “s” to the word “topped” to make it “stopped”:
My back had (s)topped hurting where the…
You are correct in your correcting…and I cannot thank you enough.
Semper fi,
Jim
Great to have another chapter!!! I have read with rapt attention to everyone and gone back and re-read several. I saw some grammatical errors, and wording I found a little awkward, but I hardly feel competent to attempt to correct such a great read. I know others do it and I will be happy to send you an email with my edits if you wish.
Kemp
Thanks H Kemp, and I much appreciate your care and interest, not to mention the compliment strongly written into the comment.
Thank you so very much.
Semper fi,
Jim
Whew didnt think i would last until this chapter. Edge of my seat waiting on the next one. Thanks lt.
Writing it right now, Roy, and thanks for wanting so much more so much more…
Semper fi,
Jim
Another riveting piece of the day. I’m sorta confused with the fifth Para. middle line ” the ammo belts for show” (?). Just confused me. Maybe I just got lost in the story. Another great explanation of the fight that we had to survive and overcome the resources/ manpower of the NVA. Anticipating the next episode with the FNG officers.
We didn’t carry ammo belts exposed to the elements like that unless the press was around or somebody didn’t know any better.
A belt of machine gun ammo will not fire properly if wet and dirty. Vietnam, when I was there, was all of that. We kept ammo
under cover so it would fire without jamming. Clearing a jam in combat, well, you might as well cast the weapon aside and find another.
Semper fi,
Jim
Stressed again, little remorse when hearing what your machine guns and Ontos did to who were lil bastards then, and then mind jump to present, regrets for bloody death on both sides of the fight.
These new LTs seem to know they are in a poopy situation and seem to biologically know to stay close to you and gunny, and they might survive. I am already hoping for the best for all three of them and hope they just blend nicely in the wet green of Junior’s Company learning fast and surviving.
Thanks Poppa for the cogent comment. Sorry it took a few days for me to get to answering.
You are and have been with me all the way…and I feel the power in that. Thanks for the support you may be unaware you
provide…
Semper fi,
Jim
just a couple:
And, in the final analysis, was I any different than the Gunny. The night the three Marines had come for me I had not hesitated to apply fatal force.
? after Gunny??
“Somewhere downriver, further than I’d ever ventured, there was a place they had to be able to cross the raging waters.”
how about re-organizing this sentence to “Somewhere downriver, further than I’d ever ventured, there had to be a place where they could cross the raging waters.”
“I’d somehow stopped a great deal of the friendly fire slaughter that had been going on in the company, but I had not done that with anything other than the Gunny’s approval, not his open participation.”
how about : “….the Gunny’s approval, if not his open participation.”
“….grinding out the burning explosives with the boot of his right heel.
maybe “….”heel of his right boot? ?
FWIW, as always. your writing is getting better all the time, if that’s even possible.
Thanks for the help and the great compliment. And telling me that I’m improving! I love that.
I’m getting better all the time…sounds a bit like therapy too…
Semper fi,
Jim
They listened to every word that said around them I knew, and usually without comment.
Not clear in meaning.
Okay, Mike, I’ll get on that sentence…
Semper fi,
Jim
Reading your writing is like watching a movie in my head. You have a great gift sir. Waiting for the next instalment with anticipation.
The writing seems automatic to me Kenneth, but I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Comments like your own help keep me going.
SSemper fi,
Jim
Another awsome chapter. On the edge of my lazyboy. One suggestion: ” officers probably unaware that they (their) many meters of separation of (between)the two groups was (of) no purpose.
Thanks for the support and suggestions. I believe that one is corrected
Three lieutenants junior to you….what a surprise. As you heard that, in the back of your mind had to be the realization that “Oh crap, I am still in charge”, and then wondering if you had gained in the opinion that those in command had of you. Just still being alive, and keeping the two companies alive, had to be a lot of justification. Well done, Jim.
I thought then, as I think now, they sent the lieutenants fresh off the airplanes because the senior ones would not go or found ways not to go.
I don’t think battalion ever did anything but blame me every chance they got.
Semper fi,
Jim
Well, of course they blamed you. The blame game, with few exceptions, always flows downhill, just like water and s**t. Credit is taken for the good, and blame placed for the bad. This is why I didn’t stay in the Army. Careers are more important that personal integrity. Be sure the black mark doesn’t stick to you. And I agree on your thoughts about the senior officers not coming. They could see the numbers, and were probably beginning to understand that your companies were in a place that it was going to be almost impossible for you to survive given the odds against you.
Will never understand why they did not simply pull us out of there one and all.
It was an obvious charnel house.
You didn’t need after-action reports,
as they had the daily KIA and WIA reports and then the physical results on the returning choppers…
Semper fi,
Jim
Couple of nits to pick…..
“The officers probably unaware that they many meters of separation of the group was no purpose.” That many meters of separation of the group was on purpose?
“The Gunny took out a cigarette and began lighting it with his special letter”……lighter?
“…my back had topped hurting…..” stopped?
“And, in the final analysis, was I any different than the Gunny” missing question mark
Looking forward to the next chapter!
Thanks for the help Sam, much appreciated. Don’t know what I’d do without you guys…
Semper fi,
Jim
James, some questions can be made as statements as they need no answer. To with ” was I any different than the Gunny” in my mind you were/ are no different than any marine in your circumstance. Albeit I was Army flanking manuevers vs frontal assaults! Love your writing! Steadfast & Loyal 4 ID
Thanks Joe, I have come to understand that there were a whole lot of Marines just like me, maybe not as verbal or able to write about it though.
Thanks for pointing that out…and a whole lot of Army guys too…
Semper fi,
Jim
To Sam & James, personally like the majority of the misspellings, and grammatic license.
They seem to come with an almost Freudian purpose, giving a little insight to what was James mind when he wrote it. Whether a ‘double entendre’ or not I get it.
Thanks James for letting us get to see the ‘fresh’ versions. ENTHRALLING! KEEP EM COMING.
Just to confirm any suspicions, this is coming from a guy to young to have ‘been there’ but just old enough to never had a draft card. My older buddies were not so lucky, but it is hard for them to explain the depth of why. I hope this continues to the chapter where Junior tries to explain his recovery.
I am still deep with anticipation for what’s next.
A truly unique criticism couched as a wonderful compliment, as I am taking this. I am glad you were too young, so that you would be there to say stuff like this about my writing!
Semper fi,
Jim
Another great part to the coming book. Love it.
Thanks Birch, much appreciate the compliment…and your patience…
Semper fi,
Jim
Glad you made it home, thanks for the good reading.
Thanks Mike, and I am pleased that you have written this on here. I feel the good will….
Semper fi,
Jim
Hello Jim (lt). Please tell me how I can buy the earlier books you have written and this one also when published. I served 4 years as an active duty Marine 1955-1959. Started out in the ground pounders E/2/7 1st Mar Div FMF.
Left as an 2533 (Radio Telegraph). Missed Vietnam for which I am grateful.
Sam, Thank you for your support.
All of my books currently published are available on this website.
The first two books of 30 Days has September oare available autographed paperback or as eBooks
and if one buys the two-book ‘special’ they will get a discount on Third Ten Days when finished and published.
Visit this page and look around
James Strauss’ Books
Semper fi,
Jim
As this story is winding down I feel a need to start another one. Your story telling has kept me mesmerized for a long time now. I’ll start sampling some of your other books for my next chapter. Thank you so much for telling it like it was!
Well, there are some other stories on the Internet at Amazon and Barnes and Noble.
Life was not over following the Nam and I will be writing that story, the time after,
when I am done with 30 Days. thanks so much for wanting more. It makes me want to write more…
Semper fi,
Jim
Well, we’re all as content as kittens with cream. Interesting how you interleave story cycles, Jim. There are some typos and errant sentences but I’ll leave them to your army of editor/commenters. With completion in sight, I’ve gone from anticipation to a twinge of sadness.
Write on. NB.
Thanks for pointing out my own exact problem in the writing Nick.
Yes, the sadness thing. The memory thing. But I will continue on to attempt to
make the 30th of September the amazingly coincidental finish of the work.
Semper fi, and thanks for the extra motivation.
Jim
Another heart stopping day and you’re still with everyone. I’m guess the shit is going really hit the fan soon as only 2 more days to go, anxiously awaiting the next few days but not going to be able to cope with what is going to happen to you. The suspense is killing. Wondering if you got any intelligence from outside units about your enemy you are facing, we had lots of voice and radio intercepts on the units in that area.. Semper Fi Lt.
Down in our area of the A Shau, even with how great the P-25 radio was, we
had a hard time just reaching battalion. Our radio traffic many times was second hand
through the arty batteries that were up on the ridges. Thanks for pointing that out.
Semper fi,
Jim
By the time I got to the Corps, the Prick-25 had been replaced by the Prick-77, basically the same radio but with updated solid state internals. They worked pretty good with the whip antenna screwed on, though we called them bullet magnets, much better than with the tape antenna that pretty much was like a section of a tape measure. They worked best with a two-inner-two antenna that was mounted on a pole or up in a tree, they were only used back in the rear(with the gear) not out with the grunts humping. And another stellar chapter LT, I cannot imagine how hard it is for you to write this. Thanks again for sharing your story with us Sir. Semper Fi.
I’m doing okay, thanks to guys with comments like your own. Thanks my friend, for the thought and the experiences you have laid down here yourself.
Semper fi,
Jim
Sweet Mother of Pearl…. I can breathe again…
Thanks for the great compliment. The next segment is already being written as I write this, as I proceed to the 30th of September…
Semper fi, and much appreciate your continued support…
Jim
This is a great read as usual with a little field graveyard humor also it is amazing how I feel like I’m there with you!
Thanks for the neat compliment and ‘getting it’ as you read. Much appreciate the motivation it gives me to keep going.
Semper fi,
Jim
Thank you James, outstanding chapter.
Thanks James, means a lot to me to hear from you, as you must know. And the compliment didn’t just slip by, either.
Semper fi,
Jim
James, thanks for the most recent chapter. Your descriptive writing is the piece that continues to paint such a vivid picture of chaos and the flexibility required on your part. I continue to highly recommend your series to my cadets here at the Institute – those especially wanting to lead infantry units. They need to have picture of what it can be like and not the Hollywood version that so often paints an unrealistic expectation and experience. Member, Tonkin Gulf Yacht Club ’72, BZ Sir!
High praise from someone who not only knows but teaches what he knows.
I continue to write on buoyed up by comments like your own.
It’s a lonely thing to come home after having learned so much and then trying to suppress it all because it was socially unacceptable,
even at the VA, to try to tell what happened.
I am taken back now to the riveting last part of Blade Runner where the clone bares his soul about what he’d been through and how said
that his rendition of it would never be known…
but, because of people willing to ‘help me along’ and carry me, my rendition is at least going to be known
by some.
Thank you from the depths for this comment and what it means to me.
Semper fi,
Jim
This segment has been polished up nicely. The story flowed without my stumbling on the inevitable first-draft errors in grammar. Nothing for me to do but enjoy the narrative, which sets up the impending clash. I hope the FuckingNewGuys do what they’re told!
Much appreciate the analytical compliment Floyd as I went over it a few times this time.
Thanks for the comment too
Semper fi,
Jim
Bring it on Jr , anticipating the next move , get to ” Walking in the Rain ” !
Funny how much rock and roll songs influenced me and us over there…and to this day when I hear the songs.
Semper fi and thanks for wanting more…
Jim
Another riveting installment! If this ever makes it into the silver screen ensure the integrity in kept intact. My selfish regret is that you are reaching the conclusion of your experience.
The segments will continue, as the adventure changed but definitely continued…
Semper fi, and thanks for wanting more and writing about that here.
Jim
WWII was the Big Band/Swing war. Years ago, I forget in what context, I heard Vietnam described as “our own Rock and Roll war” While the memory may not be the first thing to go (I think joints are) I find some things a little fuzzier now I have reached 70.
Keep up the good work Jim, and thank you once again.
Yes, the rock and roll war…the songs were so weirdly appropriate and special, yet almost none of the people who
wrote the lyrics served at all!!!
Semper fi,
Jim
It was worth the wait. I am really getting tense.
Thanks for that terse compliment Robin…means a lot to me to have guys like you so interested and waiting for more.
Semper fi,
Jim
James, I thought Huntzler got hit when Macho Man got hit. What day was it that the Gunny found you? I have read and reread all the previous chapters but I don’t remember him finding you like that. Was that when Barnes got hit? Excellent chapter as always. I will reread the chapter later tonight. Good luck walking in the rain!!!!!!
The Gunny ‘found’ me on the first night I went into combat and was dropped into the company under fire,
if you will recall…
Semper fi, and thanks for the compliment and the read…
Jim
But James the first night you were dropped into the company you were by GoNoi Island not the A Shau Valley. Sorry, I am trying to nit pick.
I am NOT trying to nit pick my friend.
Your are too attempting to nitpick and I am enjoying the experience..
Your friend,
Jim
Where I was Chuck, is not germaine to the comment that was made, at least not the way I read it.
Yes, it was Ga Not and not the A Shau, of course and I hope I did not give the impression otherwise, but here,
as in other cases when people write me, they do not give orientation of what comment they are necessarily making some criticism about.
I am happy to field any question because the books are mostly from memory. I can be wrong and have been a very few times, but mostly I have
been spot on…
Your friend,
Jim
Thank you my friend.
You are too much, my friend…a class act….
Semper fi,
Jim
Thank you my friend.
You are most welcome Chuck….
Semper fi,
Jim
Let me know when you get the books…
Semper fi,
Jim
I am a bit confused by what is to me the sudden, unexplained appearance of the the three new officers. I didn’t go back to re-read the previous installment(s), and maybe you just assumed the reader would know that newbies would be part of the re-supply or maybe there was a mention earlier that I just forgot about but it was a bit jarring to read that it is almost night again and 3 newbies have joined you. I feel like I missed something about how long it took for the resupply and Sugar Daddy’s adventure taking the whole day.
As usual you’ve left me hanging….waiting for the next installment. Effective and gripping stuff.
This is the third part of the day, as evening is coming on.
The choppers came in resupplying stuff and the officers further north at the old air strip
and then across the river to pick up Kilo’s dead.
Semepr fi,
Jim
“My back had (s)topped hurting where the leeches…..
Amazing episode James!
Thanks Don, appreciate the compliment and the intense following of the story.
Semper fi,
Jim
Hope these young officers live to fight another day. They seem willing to learn.
They were all different but all the same in ignorance. How they reacted to their ignorance was
just about everything and having time to try to help them. There is no time in combat,
not in the valley back then. We moved and moved and moved to stay alive.
Semper fi,
Jim
Started reading half way thru book one on facebook and have read clear thru to now. Bought books 1 and 2 and read them all the way thru. Once this is finished on Facebook I will have to buy the 3rd book and read it too. Then read it all again. What can I say, riveting.
Thanks for the great compliment Glen and I am working my tail off to finish by the 30th of September because it just seems right.
Thanks for the motivation to keep going…
Semper fi,
Jim