by Pete Lister
Ashley came up and sat down next to Drew. “What was that all about? John was in the Army and you were a Marine. How do you know about his outfit and his battles?”
“Remember when we saw that movie, ‘We Were Soldiers’? That was Pop’s outfit. That was probably the most famous battle of the Vietnam War. While we were sitting in the theater, eating popcorn and watching that movie, I never realized that it was a battle my pop was in. He was lucky he got out of Nam without a Purple Heart.”
“Well, he certainly was wounded.” She pointed out. “Did you see his face while he was talking about it?”
“Yeah, and I’m glad Dianne’s out there with him.”
§ § §
The next morning broke clear and refreshingly cool. There was just enough breeze to see the trees trembling, and the birds were singing. Slowly, the campground was coming to life, and the muted sound of RV doors could be heard coming through the woods.
Dianne had cooked breakfast outside, and the Sherrys were gathered around the picnic table. John looked around the table while everyone looked back at him. Slowly, a broad smile spread across his face.
Dianne walked over behind John and leaned over his shoulder. “I’ve thought about it all night,” John said. “Now does anybody else feel like making our next project a trip to Vietnam?” Instantly the clamoring erupted, and they began to lay their plans. “I thought we’d fly into Seattle the weekend before the flight and relax in the city. Then, we can fly direct into Hanoi and meet up with the rest of the outfit, before flying down to Da Nang. You guys sure you’re up for this?”
“John, I think it’s a fine idea,” Dianne told him. Drew and Ashley nodded assent.
“Okay, then,” John told them. “I’ll make the reservations this morning.”
§ § §
Ralph di Stasio walked into Shiv’s office, carrying a sheaf of papers in a manila file folder. With a flourish, he dropped it in the middle of Shiv’s desk and flopped into an easy chair.
“What’s this?” Shiv asked him.
“Funny you should ask, Shiv. Did I ever tell you that I was in the Army?”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Well, I was. As a matter of fact, I was in George Armstrong Custer’s old outfit, the 7th Cavalry.”
“Ralph, is this going somewhere?”
“God, I hope so. I’d hate to think I was wasting your time, here.”
“I’d hate that, too.”
“Anyway, I got an e-mail from the retired colonel who runs the regimental reunions. Seems like this year, we’re honoring our Vietnam veteran brothers-in-arms. They’ve set up a website for guys who were in the outfit and wanted to go back to Vietnam for a special tour. I hadn’t planned to go, ‘cause I wasn’t in Vietnam, but, I thought you might want to send a team to tag along.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Check the list of attendees who’ve already signed up.”
Shiv picked up the manila folder and opened it. Lying on top of the stack of papers was a clipping, obviously printed directly from the Internet. Below that he found several pages of names of former members of the unit who had already signed up to go. Flipping through the stapled pages, he read aloud:
“Shawl, Clark
Sheldon, Dennis and 1
Shelly, Ernest and 1
Shelton, Royce W. and 2
Sheneman, William
Sherry, John and 3
Ralph, does this mean what I think it means?”
“That’s what it means. John Sherry and 3 guests will be flying to Hanoi, where there will be a gathering of the 1st of the 7th, and the group will then fly directly to Da Nang, Vietnam, for 5 days of tours of fifty-year old battlefields.”
“So if I send some boys over there they’ve never seen before, it should be like shooting fish in a barrel?”
“I’d say that’s an apt analogy.”
“Ralph, you’ve made me a very happy man. Take an attaboy out of petty cash.”
“Thanks, Hawkeye.” Both men began to laugh.
“Jack, I want you to find me two guys, sharp cookies, who can work on their own. They gotta have passports. I want them to go to Vietnam.”
“What’s in Vietnam?”
“The Sherrys are going to Vietnam. I want a couple guys who can go there, snatch them, and find out where my stuff is. Then, I want them to not come home.”
“Our guys?”
“No, the Sherrys. I want them to go to Vietnam, and never come back to the states, again, ever.”
“And you don’t want me to go?” Jack looked hurt.
“Jack, there’s nobody I’d rather have go for me, but I promised Wendy that I’d leave you home for a while. Besides that, they’d recognize you. You know you’re my guy, Jack, but she’s my sister. She don’t ask much, and she don’t complain when I send you traipsing all over the world, but I promised her I wouldn’t send you on this one. Okay?”
“Okay, Shiv, thanks. I understand, and I appreciate it. I’ll find a couple of guys they won’t recognize.”
§ § §
The flight from Seattle to Hanoi had been smooth, with everyone too excited to sleep. Noi Bai International Airport in Hanoi was a modern, western-style airport that could have been dropped into any modern large city in the states, except for the signs in Vietnamese.
After deplaning, they were greeted with a large banner identifying the gathering place for the reunion. The veterans were treated to drinks and snacks, meeting old friends and making new ones. The Sherrys were enjoying a round while John explained to the girls why they had flown into what was once enemy territory, when a booming voice rang out, silencing all conversation among the troops. “JOHN SHERRY, YOU OLD SONUVAGUN! I NEVER THOUGHT I’D SEE THAT UGLY MUG, AGAIN!”
A mountain of a man, easily six seven and well over three hundred pounds, was lumbering across the lobby. John spun around, handed his drink to Dianne, and launched himself across the room. The two men threw their arms around each other and both of them started crying. They stood that way, wrapped around each other, for more than five minutes, before slowly drawing apart, smiling at each other.
The Sherrys watched as a woman, obviously the mountain’s wife, drew close, and was introduced to John. Then the three of them returned to where Drew and the girls waited.
“Paul, Tracy,” John said, “I want you to meet my wife, Dianne; my son, Drew; and my daughter-in-law, Ashley. Family, this is my very dear and long-lost friend and brother-in-arms, Paul Choaté, and his wife Tracy. I haven’t seen Paul since Ia Drang.”
“Good thing he spotted you,” Drew said. “As small as he is, Pop, you could easily have missed him.” While they all laughed, the flight to Da Nang was announced.
“Tracy,” Dianne said, “why don’t you sit with me and we can let the boys catch up on the bad old days?”
“I’d love that, thanks, Dianne. To tell you the truth, while I couldn’t be prouder of him, I can only hear these stories so many times before the novelty wears off.” Arm in arm, the two wives headed for the gate, while their husbands and Drew and Ashley trailed behind.
After landing and checking into their hotel, the Bamboo Green Riverside, they showered and the three couples headed into town for lunch at a local restaurant, highly recommended by the hotel’s concierge. The six of them were the only foreigners in the place when they arrived, although a couple of American businessmen came in shortly after they arrived. The sign on the front said Trúc Lâm Vin.
§ § §
After they ordered, Paul took over the conversation. “Drew, did your dad ever tell you what he did at Ia Drang?”
“Paul, until last week, I didn’t even know he was there.” Paul looked at John, surprised.
“Johnny, you never told your family?”
“Honestly, Paul? I guess I didn’t have as much fun as you did.” Paul guffawed, drawing looks from the other patrons.
“Drew, are you a vet?”
“Yes sir, I was in the Marine Corps.”
“See any action?”
“A little.”
“Don’t let him bullshit you, Paul.” John interrupted. “Two tours in Iraq and a tour in Afghanistan. He won’t talk about it, but his fruit salad goes up to his ear.”
“Spoken like a proud papa,” said Paul. “Well then, son, you’ll understand what I’m about to tell you. We were dropped into LZ X-ray, your dad and me, and four hundred and some others. They sent us up this little hill to look around, about thirty of us.”
“Twenty-nine.” John put in.
“Okay,” Paul said. “Twenty-nine’s about thirty. Anyway, we were taking a break on this little hill, and all of a sudden, the world turned to lead and we were under heavy fire. I believe there were two or three million NVAs up there, and every last one of those little fellers was after the twenty-nine of us. We were up there a little over twenty-four hours, I think. See, I can’t be sure. Some time about four hours into the thing, I took a slug in the chest. I dropped like a sack of wheat, and your dad ran, didn’t crawl like any sane person, but he ran, from where he was to where I was, dropped his M-16, and tore off his shirt.
“Stuff was dropping from his pockets, and he whips out his bayonet and starts cutting up his shirt. Our medic was a little busy, as I’m sure you can imagine. Anyway, Johnny takes a couple of pieces off his shirt and stuffed both sides of that hole that went clean through my chest, and cut the rest of his shirt into strips. He had just finished wrapping me up when the medic finally showed up. Doc took one look at my olive drab wrappings, nodded, and took off.
“Your dad stayed with me for the rest of the night and the next day, too. Every time they attacked, he was shooting for both of us, used all of his ammo and most of mine. All I could do was lay there and watch, trying to breath. The next afternoon, they broke through to us, and we were evacuated back to the LZ. Your old man handed off both of our M-16s and carried me all the way to the chopper. Now granted, I wasn’t quite as heavy then, but still…” Paul just stared at John, shaking his head.
“Pop,” Drew asked. “Wouldn’t it be easier for two guys to carry a wounded soldier?”
John smiled at Paul, then back at Drew. “There were only seven of us who hadn’t been hit. We didn’t have two guys available for each one who had to be carried. This fat bastard was mine.”
Paul and Tracy were from San Diego, where Paul oversaw a maintenance facility for the Navy, but that part of the conversation received short shrift, and no one interrupted the flow as the two old buddies, rather than catch up on what they had been doing since Ia Drang, talked about that one experience. They sat and talked for several hours, before realizing they had to return to the hotel to get ready for this evening’s welcoming party.
§ § §
Doug Lincoln and Preston Child were sitting at a table near the door of Trúc Lâm Vin. “I hate this shit,” Lincoln said. “There’s a Vietnamese restaurant down the block from my place, and I tried it once, right after I moved in. No wonder these people are so small, they don’t have any food fit to eat.”
“I know,” Child told him. “It’s like Thai food. They put these restaurants in all over the country, and everybody thinks it’s exotic. It’s crap, is what it is. Give me a roast beef sandwich any day.”
“I looked at the itinerary.” Lincoln told him. “They’re going to be touring battlefields for the next two days, but I assume they’ll be back at the hotel each night. If they walk when they go out to eat, like they did today, we should be able to pick them off without too much trouble.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Child said. “Those broads are hot. If we pressure one of them, we should be able to squeeze the guys to find out where Shiv’s stuff is hidden.”
“Even better,” Lincoln said, “If we snatch the older broad, I’ll bet squeezing the younger one would be even easier.”
“That’s cool. Okay then, that’s how we’ll do it. We’ll tail them after they get back each night. It’ll be better if we can grab them after dark, anyway. Hang on, they’re leaving. Let them get ahead of us.”
§ § §
The group decided to walk back to the hotel, quickly pairing off with John and Paul still in front, followed by Dianne and Tracy, with Drew and Ashley bringing up the rear, again. “The last time we walked this street,” Paul told the group, “there was a hotel across the street, where that park is. Remember that, Johnny? We were just about where we are right now when the whole ground floor blew out.”
“That was the only time I ever got up here,” John told him, “I slept for almost the entire three-day pass. I think I had one bottle of beer before we had to get back.”
Tracy turned to Dianne, “Did you guys have to put anything on hold to make the reunion?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Dianne said, laughing.
§ § §
Before dawn the next morning, the group packed overnight bags and boarded a bus for Pleiku, where they toured Chu Pong Mountain and the Ia Drang River Valley, with a walk-through of the famous battle site. Paul and John were amazed at the extent of the tunnels dug into the side of the mountain that had faced them during that battle. The docents were all veterans of the battle, former NVA troops who were no longer hostile toward the Americans they had defeated. After the tour, the group checked into the Hoang Anh Gia Lai, or HAGL Hotel, for one night, planning to return to Da Nang the next afternoon.
§ § §
Lincoln and Child were sitting in the lobby of the Bamboo Green Riverside, drinking bia hoi, draft beer over ice.
“You know, Preston, except for having to get used to sucking your beer through ice cubes, this isn’t bad stuff.”
“I could get used to it,” laughed Child. “Did you find out what time they’re supposed to be getting back?”
“Yeah, I talked to the guy at the desk. They won’t be getting back ‘till tomorrow. Apparently, this outfit, the first of the seventh, whatever that means, was in some famous battle near here, and they went to see the place while nobody was shooting at them.”
“So, we get a night off on Shiv’s nickel, eh?”
“That sounds good. I don’t know if the commies allow hookers, but to be honest, I’m a little scared to find out. I’d hate to have to call Shiv and ask him to bail me out of the Da Nang Hilton.” Child laughed. “But there must be some place in this town to at least score a steak.”
§ § §
The tour had been interesting but John had to admit, he didn’t recognize any of the places he had seen that day, except the knoll where he had been pinned down for most of his time in the Ia Drang Valley. Even LZ X-Ray didn’t look familiar.
They were standing in the middle of what had been John’s position during that long twenty-four hours on the hill when one of the docents approached. He watched John pointing out positions to his son before approaching them.
“Excuse me,” he said to John. “You were here?” John stared into the man’s eyes.
“I was.”
“November 14, 1965?”
“Yes sir, that was the date.”
“Were you with the platoon that was stranded on this hill?”
“Yes sir.”
“Were you wounded?”
“No sir, I wasn’t.”
“You were one of seven, I believe.”
“Yes sir, seven. Were you here?”
“Yes sir, I was. I was with 1st Battalion, 33rd Regiment PAVN, under Gen. Loc. Where were you?”
“Right here, where we’re standing.” John told him.
“That’s very interesting.” The man walked some thirty feet away, stepping down out of sight just past a small hillock. Suddenly, his head popped up. He was smiling. “I spent most of that fight right here.”
The man climbed back up and rejoined John and Drew. “I was wounded in the second charge on your position, and I laid there for most of the night, before my comrades found me and carried me back to safety.” He smiled at John and stuck out his hand. “My
name is Le Duan Trahn.”
“John Sherry.” John said, taking the man’s hand. “I’m sorry if I was the one who shot you.”
“There is no need for an apology, Mr. Sherry. You should be proud of the way you and your comrades held this place. But you did me a favor, if it was your bullet. You hit my lung, and I was sent home to recover. I could not rejoin the army, and I spent the remainder of the war in a warehouse in Haiphong.
“It was many years after we captured Ho Chi Mihn City that I came here to see the place I was wounded. When they learned that I had been here for this battle, I was offered this job. My family and I have lived well because of this. I thank you for that.”
John laughed. “In that case, I hope it was my shot that dropped you.”
Drew quietly withdrew as the two older men continued to reminisce. He walked over to where Dianne and Ashley were looking around.
“It’s hard to believe what happened here.” Dianne said softly. “I remember feeling like this when I toured Gettysburg. It would have been even more poignant if a veteran of that battle had been there to tell us about it.”
“Maybe someday,” Ashley said, taking Drew’s hand as she looked at him. “We’ll be able to tour Iraq or Afghanistan this way.”
“Not a chance.” Drew told her.
“Why not?” she asked.
“I don’t like sand. I don’t even want to go to the beach. You can only spend so much time sleeping with sand in your shorts before the fascination wears off.”
“We’ll see,” she told him.
“YOU!” Drew turned in time to see Paul Choaté walking up to John and Mr. Trahn. The Vietnamese gentleman’s eyes were wide as he stared at the big man. “I killed you!”
“I don’t think so.” Paul told him. “I think I’d have remembered that.”
“You were standing right over there, and I shot you. I remember telling my lieutenant that I had killed the biggest man I had ever seen.”
“Well, partner, that’s exactly where I was shot in the chest, but I didn’t die.”
