“Why are you saying this to me?” Cherry asked him quietly.
“I guess I’ve been watchin you,” Silvers said. “I feel like I’ve known you for a long time. Like you were my cousin back in the World.” Cherry sighed. Silvers continued. “If I’d just got here and just fired up someone I think I’d want someone to talk to.”
“Thanks,” Cherry said simply. He wanted to return the gesture to Silvers, felt he had to share something with him. At the same time he wanted to be left alone. He just did not wish to think or to be. He wanted to melt away.
“How far should one go to support other human beings?” Silvers asked. “How far should one go to help another striving for freedom from political or economic or religious repression?”
“I don’t know,” Cherry said apathetically.
“That’s really what this is all about, you know?”
“Do you know what I was thinking?” Cherry asked. “I was thinking there’s a meaning to all this. Maybe every man creates his own meaning. Maybe every man’s his own God.”
“No, I don’t think so,” Silvers said. “There’s a balance between fighting and giving way. Between supporting others and letting others be trampled. My mother’s side of the family was in Germany in the thirties and they yielded and they suffered in the forties. That was brother against brother. They were as German then as I’m American now. Everybody just sat back and appeased the Nazis. At some point a man, a people, have to stand up and fight.”
Silvers left. Egan was sitting next to Cherry. Somehow he had arrived, seated himself and removed a can of Cs from his ruck and begun eating, all completely silent and undetected.
“Don’t mean a fuckin thing,” Egan said nodding toward Silvers.
Cherry startled again. “Where’d you come from?”
“CP.”
“When?”
“Couple minutes ago.” It was becoming dark under the canopy. Cherry could still see the perimeter guards but all color had faded and now everything was gray. Light and noise discipline automatically went into effect—boonierats cupped their cigarettes as they smoked, the digging stopped, voices lowered. Egan continued eating something from the C-rat can. He had not heated it. When he finished he cut the bottom from the can and crushed the tin. Then he checked Cherry’s radio. He said nothing. That increased Cherry’s jitters. Cherry had even waited for Egan before eating, expecting to help prepare a meal. Now Egan was finished.
Egan removed from his rucksack the letter he had been writing to Stephanie. He read the last lines and began writing again. As he wrote it became darker and darker. Cherry sat still beside him and in the advancing darkness Egan seemed to fade, dissolve, until his only presence was the faint sound of his writing.
“How can you do that?” Cherry whispered.
“Do what?” Egan whispered back.
“Write. I can’t see a thing.” Cherry was very cautious about the volume of his voice.
“Why do you have to see it?” Egan said. He sounded very relaxed.
“How can you write without seeing it?” Cherry asked again.
“I know what it looks like,” Egan answered. “I know where the paper is and where my hand is so I know what it looks like.”
“You got all the answers to this place, don’t you?”
“What?” Egan said.
“You got all the fuckin answers, don’t you?” Cherry accused. “What would you a done where I was today?”
“Ssshhh. Keep it down. You mean on the water run?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t there.”
“I could a shot him in the leg. I didn’t have to kill him.”
“You could be dead too.”
“I could a just nicked him. I killed him. I killed a man today.”
“You killed a soldier,” Egan said softly. “Since when is a soldier a man?”
“By comin here,” Cherry lamented, “I said I wanted to kill a man. That not only do I condone killing but that I actively support … wanted to kill. I think I always knew that too. I just fooled myself into thinking I came here to observe this.”
“You tryin ta be the good guy?” Egan said snidely.
“I didn’t have to kill him. I think I must of wanted to kill.”
“You’re gettin flaky.”
“I don’t have the right to play God over another man. Nobody’s got that right. I actively supported this killing today. This genocide.”
“Where’d you say you were from?” Egan interrupted.
“Connecticut. Bridgeport.” Cherry said the words deliberately, slowly. He had been working himself toward a frenzy.
“Northeast? Industrial city?”
“Yeah.”
“Arms?”
“Ah … I think so. Yeah, sure. Sikorsky Helicopter. Avco Lycoming. They make the engines for the Hueys.”
“Colt? M-16s?”
“No. That’s in Hartford.”
“Lots a war industry jobs in Bridgeport and in Connecticut though?”
“Yeah.”
“Is building weapons actively supporting and wanting to kill?”
“I don’t know. That’s different.”
“Ever know anyone who said no to doin their job?”
“Yeah. My brother Vic split for Canada when they tried to draft him.”
“Give the fucker my regards. I can respect that. I can’t respect the fuckers makin weapons then callin us baby burners. They eat my shit.”
“I killed a man in cold blood. I coulda’screamed. I coulda fired high.”
“You’d be dead. Look asshole, this is a clean war out here. There’s no villes, no women, no children. No civilians. You got friendly forces and enemy forces. There’s no My Lais up here. When someone’s killed he’s a combatant. And whether he wanted to be here or not he decided to condone the rules of the game and he best ass goina abide by the consequences.”
“Shee-it.”
“That’s the way it is, Breeze. Nice-en-clean. Nobody here but soldiers. Man-to-man. You beat your man today. Maybe he’ll beat you tomorrow.”
“Fuck you.”
“Ha. Can’t see gettin blown away for a piece a land nobody wants, huh?”
“That’s right.”
“Well, get yer fuckin weapon then.”
“Lamonte,” Brooks whispered. In the dark he had left the CP and walked the six or seven meters to Lamonte and George’s sleeping position.
“Yes Sir,” Lamonte answered. George was surprised the commander knew their position.
“Lamonte, are you and George on the clearance record at theTOC?”
“Hell yes.”
“With 3d Brigade?” Brooks questioned.
“Hell no,” Lamonte muttered. “1st Brigade.”
“We’ve been opconned to 3d. They can’t find a copy of your security clearance. The Old Fox wants me to confiscate your film and send you in with first resupply.”
“Confiscate my film? What’s that asshole think we’re doin out here? You gotta be kiddin.”
“Nope. That’s what they told me.”
“Aw, L-T. You know me. Can’t you tell them to check it out with Division PIO? We’re on record with Division.”
“They said they did. Division didn’t know you were out with a 3d Brigade unit, they said. I told them you travel with us all the time. They said not in 3d Brigade’s AO.”
“Aw fer Chrissake.”
“Lamonte, it’s nothing to worry about. 3d Brigade’s just pulling a power play because they think you’ll scoop their story.”
“Oh, fuck this shit. I been humpin two days out here. Come in on the CA. Workin my ass off to get some decent shots and they want to confiscate my film.” Caribski, the correspondent, crept closer to get the story. Brooks returned to the CP, and Lamonte and George and Caribski and the PIO escort from 3d Brigade discussed the situation and Caribski and Lamonte agreed to meet in the rear to discuss censorship. Then they all crept over to the CP for the nightly meeting.
The ground mist was thickening and in lungs the heavy moisture combined with cigarette smoke residue. Tiny muffled coughs sporadically broke the stillness at the CP. It was dark and impossible to see. The moon had just begun rising. Behind the dense cloud cover the moon was gray-yellow, amorphous. With the exception of Egan, Jackson and Thomaston, all the platoon leaders and platoon sergeants and the regulars were assembled. Cahalan recited a review of the day’s intelligence. “At 0640 we discovered a bunker complex comprised of approximately 50 bunkers with overhead cover and 150 fighting positions,” Cahalan said. “The complex appeared to be complete on only three sides of the hill. All bunkers with overhead cover were destroyed along with significant amounts of enemy ammunition and equipment.
“Intelligence reports from battalion say we are about sitting in the middle of the 5th Infantry Battalion of the 812th NVA Regiment.” Cahalan paused. There was a round of muffled coughs. “Brigade reports a definite troop flow between this valley and the Firebase O’Reilly area. They say they’re not sure which way the major flow is going.”
“That figures,” Egan said from outside the circle. He, Thomaston and Jax had approached undetected in the darkness. “They don’t know their ass from a hole in the ground.”
“Shut up, Sergeant,” Caldwell ordered.
Cahalan continued. “Brigade figures the dink we got today was part of the flow. A LOH fired up a sampan on the river at 131324, that’s about a klick en a half downriver from that big tree that sticks up. Aircraft from 2d of the 17th spotted an estimated two companies of opposition three klicks west of here. Air strikes and artillery were employed with unknown results. Bravo engaged three gooks. They followed blood trails until dusk with unknown results.”
“Sir,” Pop Randalph whispered in his high hoarse voice. “Sir, I bet they goan hit us tonight.”
“Probe us,” Egan said. “They’ll probe us first. They don’t know enough about us yet. They’ll probe us to figure out our setup and number.”
“It’s my feeling,” Brooks said quietly, “they’re withdrawing right now because we’re an unknown element.”
“Yeah,” Egan agreed. “They’ll want to probe us first.”
“We’ve had a lot of air activity,” FO inserted. “And you’ve been patrolling all over the place at once and still maintaining people here in their complex. They may think there’s more of us than there is. They know we had people here today and over at the LZ and on that peak to the november whiskey. My guess is they think we’ve got two companies right here. We’ve had enough birds to bring in two companies.”
“So they’re pulling back,” Brooks said. “Pulling back to pick at us, nibble on our flanks, then dig in later.”
“If that was a mortar squad the water run shot up this afternoon,” Thomaston spoke slowly, “they’re probably from that infantry battalion. Nguyen’s being pushed. He’s being pushed down and concentrated. He’s making a strategic withdrawal. He’s going to stop and fight someplace.”
Caldwell coughed. “Why don’t they just bring in the B-52s and cave the valley in?”
“Hey,” Brooks said. “Listen. We’ll work west down this ridge first then go down there, maybe cross the river and work the other side of the valley coming east. We’ll be real cool and spiral down toward that knoll in the valley floor and take a look. GreenMan’s made that our ultimate objective.”
“That’s one fuck of a hump, Mista,” Doc warned.
“We don’t have to jump right in there,” Brooks said, “but we’re going to move quick. We will move a lot. I don’t want to get bogged down on tee-tee caches while they snipe us to pieces. Let’s try to keep up the illusion that there’s two hundred of us here.”
While the meeting was in progress Minh had been analyzing the documents taken from the NVA soldier Cherry had killed. Minh had been just outside the CP circle. When darkness came he covered himself with two ponchos and continued reading and translating by flashlight. Two men had been stationed beside him to insure that no light escaped from the poncho hootch. Minh emerged into the meeting. “Lieutenant,” Minh called softly to Brooks.
“Minh,” Brooks looked toward the sound of the tonal voice in the dark, “have you found anything in those docs?”
“Oh, yes Sir,” Minh said. “Lieutenant, I believe this man to be an important honcho. He was to carry instructions from the 7th NVA Front to the K-19 Sapper Battalion. The documents speak highly of the K-19 Battalion. They say K-19 is part of the 304th NVA Division and is now op-conned to the 812th which is same-same 5th Infantry. K-19 is part of an elite homeguard unit from Hanoi. They say K-19 guide carries battle streamers from the battle of Dien Bien Phu.”
“They’re going to hit O’Reilly,” Lt. Caldwell said. “My guess is they’re going to use the sappers to overrun O’Reilly.”
“What else do they say, Minh?” Brooks asked.
“The documents say it is important to the liberation effort for the 7th Front to combine with the siege of Firebase O’Reilly also many American deaths. They say this is very important for public reaction to hasten American withdrawals. They say the American assistance here is a blessing.”
There was a long pause. It was very quiet and no one even dared to cough a muffled cough. The ground mist was becoming thicker. The moon was slightly higher though still murky behind clouds. The jungle floor was intensely dark. Everyone was waiting for Brooks. He broke the silence. He spoke quietly yet very firmly. “Get back to your people,” he said. “We’re moving out in zero-five.”
SIGNIFICANT ACTIVITIES
THE FOLLOWING RESULTS FOR OPERATIONS IN THE O’REILLY/ BARNETT/JEROME AREA WERE REPORTED FOR THE 24-HOUR PERIOD ENDING 2359 14 AUGUST 70:
AT 0640 HOURS COMPANY A, 7/402 ENTERED AN NVA BUNKER COMPLEX AT YD 193304. THE COMPLEX COMPRISED OF 50 BUNKERS WITH OVERHEAD COVER AND 150 FIGHTING POSITIONS. CO A UNCOVERED A CACHE OF OFFICE EQUIPMENT AND PRINTING FACILITIES ALONG WITH SIGNIFICANT AMOUNTS OF SMALL ARMS AND MORTAR AMMUNITION. THE EQUIPMENT AND BUNKERS WERE DESTROYED. CO C OF THE SAME BATTALION DISCOVERED FIGHTING POSITIONS WITH OVERHEAD COVER ON HILL 711 AT YD 145296. THE POSITIONS WERE DESTROYED. AT 1117 HOURS TWO KILOMETERS WEST OF FIREBASE BARNETT CO B, 7/402 ENGAGED THREE ENEMY WITH UNKNOWN RESULTS.
ELEMENTS OF THE 1ST INFANTRY DIVISION (ARVN) SPOTTED TWO COMPANIES OF NVA REGULARS 800 METERS WEST OF FIREBASE O’REILLY. ARTILLERY WAS EMPLOYED WITH UNKNOWN RESULTS. THE 4TH BN, 1ST REGT (ARVN) CAPTURED AN NVA SOLDIER TWO KILOMETERS EAST OF FIREBASE JEROME.
AT 1430 HOURS THE C & C SHIP FROM THE 7/402 SPOTTED A SAMPAN BENEATH THE FOG OVER THE KHE TA LAOU RIVER. THE PILOT ENGAGED THE TARGET WITH ORGANIC WEAPONS FIRE WITH UNKNOWN RESULTS.
AIRCRAFT FROM THE 2D BN 17TH CAV SPOTTED APPROXIMATELY 150 NVA SOLDIERS ON THE SIDE OF HILL 636 FOUR KILOMETERS SOUTHWEST OF FIREBASE BARNETT. AIR STRIKES AND ARTILLERY WERE EMPLOYED WITH UNKNOWN RESULTS.
CO A, 7/402 AMBUSHED AN NVA SQUAD THREE KILOMETERS SOUTH OF FIREBASE BARNETT AT APPROXIMATELY 1540 HOURS RESULTING IN ONE ENEMY KILLED.
THERE WERE NO SIGNIFICANT US OR ARVN CASUALTIES.
CHAPTER 19
15 AUGUST 1970
It was two hours past midnight. The moon was rising behind fast tumbling clouds and the sky was illuminated with eerie turbulence. The ground fog was thick and sticky. Alpha was in column, moving, stumbling, bitching. They had humped off the east side of the peak, then, following a compass course, they circled the peak to the south then west and finally northwest where they picked up the trail along the flat ridge down through the shallow draw and up toward the isolated peak that 2d Plt had reconned with helicopter at point the previous afternoon. From there until they reached their objective eleven days away the inertia of their forward motion would keep them in motion, never stopping, never slowing, gradually accelerating in their spiral descent into hell.
The path of Alpha’s movement was very dark because of the ground mist. The soldiers felt insecure moving in the blackness, feeling their way toward a possible ambush. They bitched. They we
re tired. They had been working since before dawn. They had stopped long enough to dig in and set up and now they were moving through the unknown.
Night vision is a gift but a gift which each receiver must develop. Brooks had excellent night vision as did Jackson and Numbnuts Willis, who never let anyone know. Part of the ambient knowledge within the infantry was how to exploit the gift. To see at night it is necessary to look NOT directly at the object of sight but to look left or right of it about 15°. That way the image passing through the eye’s lens hits the side of the retina where the rods, black/white receptors, are concentrated and not the center of the retina where the cones, color receptors, are clustered. Cherry knew all this but he had never practiced it before and on the night march he was nearly blind. Oh God. Oh God. This is fucked. Oh God, this is fucked. He was shaking.
As important as night vision is kinesthesis, the ability to comprehend the signals of the muscles, tendons and joints and to know the precise location and movement of one’s body and bodily components. It is through the understanding of those sensory experiences one knows one’s environment and one’s position in it. Cherry knew this also. He had had enough psychology and physiology classes to know in detail the theories and even the history of their development. But the knowledge without practice was nearly useless.
Egan had scant knowledge of the theory of night vision and only slightly more knowledge of kinesthesis. But Egan was a mole. He had an immense amount of practice in night moving and he took considerable pride in his ability. He asked, volunteered, cajoled and forced the L-T to allow him to walk point. Behind him was Pop Randalph and behind them the bitching was universal.
The column was in a black cave of unknowns. They groped for the contours of the trail, the slope, the holes, the protruding roots. They stumbled forward in a long line, trying to be silent, listening to the swishing soundlessness of the good infantrymen, listening to the quick slip, topple—” Oooophs, oh shit! Fuck this, Man”—of the bad. They followed Egan into dips and over crests, generally downward toward the valley then generally upward toward the peak.
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