Sand in the Wind

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Sand in the Wind Page 38

by Robert Roth


  3. The Arizona Territory

  During the night, Echo, Fox, and Golf had joined Hotel Company on the hill. It was barely light, but already a line of men completely encircled the mess hall and stretched fifty yards away from it. Their faces displayed no fear or anxiety. In less than two hours they would start boarding the helicopters, and there was no longer time to worry. The men were constantly spotting friends from other companies, shouting greetings and kidding remarks to them as they all waited in line.

  Right after breakfast, Kovacs sought out Kramer to wish him luck. They walked together to the platoon hootch. Kramer mentioned that Valdez had somehow had an ammo crate dropped on his hand, and that he’d have to be left behind. Kovacs had heard a different account of this, but he didn’t mention it to Kramer. When they reached the hootch, the men were already busy filling their packs. Kramer knew that most of them had a better idea of what to expect than he did, so he stayed out of their way as they bustled around the platoon area. It was Tony 5 who gave the few orders that were necessary, and he did so with a demanding self-assurance reminiscent of Kovacs.

  Hamilton’s main concern was making sure that Fuller packed his gear correctly. He’d check on him every few minutes, then walk away as quickly as possible to avoid hearing again how glad Fuller was to be headed for the “Arizona Territory, right off.” Fuller directed all his questions to the extremely receptive Payne. This made Hamilton more uneasy, and he strained to hear the advice Payne offered. Rabbit, Alpha’s other new man, asked very few questions; but instead watched the men in his fire team, especially Forsythe. Having expected Roads to be the most friendly towards him, Rabbit found him appreciably colder than either Chalice or Forsythe.

  Ramirez was the fourth man that morning to remind Childs to bring his hammer. As the men began to stage their packs outside the hootch, Valdez approached sheepishly with a large bandage on his hand. At first Tony 5 gave him a sideways glance, but then walked over to wish him well. Soon a large group of men had gathered around Valdez commenting about his “accident” and slapping him on the back.

  Childs avoided the group. The men began to call out jokingly for him to come over and say good-bye to Valdez, and he finally had to do so to silence them. Most of the men were sincerely glad that Valdez wasn’t going with them. Thinking that someday they would also be in the same position, they drew from Valdez’s example a vicarious sense of relief. There was also the feeling that with each man they saw leave Vietnam, their own return dates drew closer.

  After all packs were staged outside the hootch, word was passed that Captain Hindman wanted to speak to the men before they left. Nearly a third of the battalion stood in front of the chapel when Hindman began.

  “First of all, let me say that I know you men have things to do, so I’ll make this short. Nobody told you that Vietnam was going to be any picnic; and for those of you who’ve never been to the Arizona, this operation will prove it isn’t. Nothing worthwhile was ever gained without sacrifices, and for the next few months it will be your turn to make these sacrifices. The weaker of you might see things that will cause you to question your faith, but remember that the Lord works in strange ways. It is not our job to question these ways. Instead, we must always keep in mind what we’re fighting for — freedom, yes, but freedom under God. Through our faith in God we will overcome our enemies, for this is the one powerful weapon they can never capture from us.

  “I don’t have to tell you how much I wish I could fight alongside of you, but that’s not my job. When God chooses our life’s work for us, he does so with far greater understanding than we could ever have. While you brave men are fighting for your country, you can rest assured that I will be fighting for your souls; and I’m not bragging when I say my victory will be greater than yours. But remember, we’re all Americans, and a victory by each of us is shared as a common victory.”

  Colonel Nash had stood restlessly listening to Hindman, but finally had to step up and whisper something to him. Hindman continued: “I guess I’m going to have to wrap things up, but let me say one last thing. There’s a lot of people back home that don’t understand why it’s necessary for us to be fighting here. When you write home, tell your folks what we’re doing, and have them tell others. In fact, if you have the time, write a letter to your hometown newspaper. We’re Americans, and this is one of our rights.

  “There’s no reason a good soldier can’t be a good Christian. Don’t lose your faith in God, and as you make sacrifices, remember the sacrifices made for us by Our Savior, Jesus Christ. God bless you, and good luck.”

  As soon as Hindman finished speaking, the harsh shouts of platoon sergeants rang out over the hum of the men’s voices, ordering them back to their staging areas. They returned in time to hear the order given to “saddle-up.” There were the usual moans and complaints as they helped each other put on their packs and equipment. As soon as the men were ready, Captain Trippitt and Gunny Martin appeared. Trippitt retained his somber, disapproving appearance as Martin yelled out the order to form up.

  Soon the entire battalion was strung out in two columns along the edges of the road. Echo Company paralleled Hotel, and they would be the first to board the helicopters. It was only a few minutes before the first one was sighted. Hotel Company watched each succeeding copter boarded until all of Echo Company was off the hill. It was now Hotel Company’s turn. The men were already divided up into different loads, and there was no confusion as the helicopters were filled.

  Kramer didn’t look out his window until he felt the chopper descending. They were headed for a small patch of high ground surrounded by a kilometer of rice paddies. He could barely make out the irregular circle formed by the men of Echo Company who were serving as security for the landing. The chopper touched down in the middle of this circle, and Kramer now saw that the patch of high ground was the remains of a small, burned-out ville. A man from Echo Company waved them by as they rushed off the copter. They didn’t stop to form up until they were standing in two feet of water. Kramer waited impatiently while the choppers brought in the rest of Hotel Company. As each succeeding helicopter took off, he and his men were overcome by the sense that they were now stranded.

  In less than an hour, the entire battalion had been choppered-in. Hotel Company was given the battalion point, and Second Platoon the company point. Soon the battalion was heading towards some high ground a kilometer away. Hotel Company moved in a single column. Headquarters and Supply Company, with Colonel Nash and the rest of the battalion officers followed behind them in two columns. Echo Company, in a single column, took up the rear. Fox Company, also in a single column, marched as flank security fifty yards to the left of the battalion’s main body. Golf had the same position on the right.

  By the time they were halfway to the tree line, the men were exhausted and already staggering under their heavy packs. Alpha was the lead squad in the column, and Childs the battalion point man. Chalice was now remembering the agony of marching through rice paddies, doing so the only way possible, by experiencing it. Each step he took seemed to be the final one before collapse. His pack straps dug into his shoulders as if they were a gradually tightening tourniquet. The sharp edges of his ammo can kept banging into his sides, and he was continually trying to adjust the sling to prevent this. The familiar thought came to him that no one in the platoon could possibly be experiencing the agonizing pain that he was now enduring. For the first time since he had been in Vietnam, the absurdity of this thought became apparent. The cause of this realization was the sight of Rabbit staggering in front of him. For the first time, he felt physically superior to another member of the platoon. The reason for this was not the belief that he was less tired than Rabbit, but merely the knowledge that he’d had some idea of what to expect. A smile crossed his lips as he imagined Rabbit’s thoughts. Chalice was able, at the same time, to sympathize with Rabbit and yet to receive some pleasure from the example of his suffering. In a voice, the strength and assuredness of which surprised h
im, Chalice called forward the same helpful lie he had heard so often from others. “Take it easy, Rabbit. You’ll get used to it.” Kramer was also exhausted. As he watched those in front of him staggering through the rice paddies, he found reason to again ask himself what caused his men to endure such suffering, not admitting that he was actually trying to figure out why he himself was enduring it. Sweat dripped from his face, and he began performing that now familiar idiosyncrasy of using his forearm to cock back his helmet, knowing the advantage gained from this would be negligible. Before drawing his arm away, he roughly brushed the sweat from his face. It was then that he heard the faint, almost moaning sound of someone in front of him singing. His disbelief quickly turned to amazement that someone would have the energy to even attempt to sing. Kramer strove to hear it, and was barely able to make out the words sung by the straining, off-key voiee.“If I had a hammer, I’d hammer in the mor-or-ning./ I’d hammer in the evening, all over this land./ I’d hammer out da-an-ger. I’d hammer out war-or-ning./ I’d—”

  “Who is that?” Kramer asked the man in front of him. The singing had already stopped by the time word was casually relayed back to him that it had been Childs. Kramer felt like laughing, but was too exhausted to do anything more than smile. Now that no one was singing, he passed the word forward to tell Childs to “knock it off.” As Kramer heard his message relayed up the column, he tried to think about the incident disparagingly. Despite himself, a feeling of pride took hold — ‘A singing point man, a singing point man — what an unbelievable platoon.’

  Two hundred yards from the tree line, Colonel Nash gave the order to halt. The companies on flank security were told to draw even with Hotel Company. When this was done, the first elements of each of these companies turned at right angles and marched parallel to the tree line until all three companies were on-line and facing the high ground. Headquarters and Supply Company remained behind Hotel, and Echo in turn behind H and S Company. The order to move out was given, and the three forward companies moved on-line towards the high ground.

  It was now that the men’s thoughts shifted from their own pain to their fear of contact. Not one head hung down. All eyes remained focused upon the tree line in anticipation and dread of what it might be hiding. Each step closer increased their fear, even after they had passed the point where they would have been most vulnerable.

  They did not stop upon reaching the tree line, but immediately began to sweep through it as fast and as carefully as possible. The men constantly raised and lowered their heads, alternately looking for an ambush or booby traps. A few hundred yards into the tree line, Hotel Company came upon a large, burned-out ville. Every deserted hootch had a bunker beneath it, and now began the troublesome job of fragging and entering each one. The entire battalion halted as Hotel Company methodically checked out each bunker.

  Hardly a minute went by without the warning “Fire in the hole,” and then the sound of an exploding grenade. They found no sign of the enemy, and many of the men remembered having gone through these same procedures, in this same ville, with the same results during the last operation in the Arizona.

  As soon as all the bunkers had been checked, Hotel, Golf, and Fox Companies resumed their sweep through the high ground. H and S Company made camp in the ville, while Echo acted as rear security. When the three sweeping companies reached the far edge of the high ground, they backtracked until Fox and Golf had made contact with Echo Company. These four rifle companies then formed a perimeter around the ville and H and S Company. Word was soon passed to take a half hour for lunch.

  During this break, the company commanders were told to report to H and S Company where they found Colonel Nash waiting for them. He went over the plans for the next three days. The battalion would retain its camp in the ville. Each day three rifle companies would go out on separate patrols while one would stay behind as security for Headquarters Company. After explaining this, Colonel Nash nodded to an unassuming-looking man wearing thick glasses. Major Lucas rose to his feet and held up a map of the area. He then explained the routes of the different patrols to the company commanders. Although he had the appearance of a bookkeeper wearing a set of oversized jungle fatigues, his voice was sharp and possessed a concise, military tone. Nash had only given him a rough idea of what he had wanted. It was the major who had planned the patrols, as he would plan all future movements of the battalion. Lucas finished his explanation by asking if there were any questions. The satisfied look on his face unequivocally indicated that he felt none were necessary.

  Trippitt hurried back to his company and explained the day’s patrol to his platoon commanders. Its object was to search for signs of the enemy by sweeping a small patch of high ground two kilometers away. Hotel Company moved out almost immediately. Rabbit and Fuller were glad to be able to leave their packs behind; but after a few minutes of walking through rice paddies, they were just as exhausted as before. Fuller marched directly in front of Hamilton, and his every action made Hamilton sorry he had chosen Fuller over Rabbit. He staggered through the water as if he were crushing grapes; and even though there was nothing but rice paddies for a kilometer in any direction, Fuller shifted his head warily from side to side as if he expected a company of Viet Cong to pop up in front of him. Hamilton realized that Fuller was trying to impress him, and this made his actions even more ludicrous.

  As Hotel Company approached the high ground, the men became increasingly wary and uneasy. Eyes straining, they searched the brush for any sign of danger. The company was in two parallel columns. When it came within a hundred yards of the high ground, the forward elements peeled off at right angles until the entire company paralleled the front edge of the tree line. The men then moved towards it on-line. Chalice glanced nervously at his blooker, wondering whether he and the other blooker men would be ordered to fire into the brush in preparation for the sweep. No such order was given.

  The patch of high ground was crisscrossed by worn and recently used paths. The men warily avoided these paths for fear that they might be booby-trapped. As sure as they were that the Viet Cong had been there, they were just as sure they weren’t there now. A careful search affirmed this. Trippitt headed them back towards the camp, and they reached it in time to heat some C-rations.

  As the sky darkened, most of the men took occasional glances at the all-but-hidden sun, experiencing at once the anomalous feelings of camaraderie and isolation. No one needed to be told to dig his foxhole deeper. Soon they were surrounded by blackness, but the more experienced men knew that at any instant it could explode upon them. Nash had decided that hootches would make too easy a target, so the men were prepared to sleep on top of their ponchos. The damp air retained the smell of insect repellent as bottles of it were passed around.

  Forsythe noticed a man already in his foxhole, and immediately realized it was Fuller. Out of curiosity and amusement, Forsythe walked towards the foxhole. Fuller stood leaning forward with only the top of his head protruding above the lip of the hole. He constantly shifted it from side to side while holding his finger on the trigger of his rifle. “How’s it going?” Forsythe asked in a purposely loud voice.

  “Okay,” Fuller whispered.

  “See anything,” Forsythe asked with mock concern and in an even louder voice.

  “Not yet, but I’m ready,” Fuller answered in a whisper.

  “Well keep up the good work.”

  “You can count on me.”

  While most of the men went to sleep expecting to be awakened by the sounds of rifle fire or incoming mortars, the night passed quietly, disappointing no one. Two more days went by without contact. Instead of becoming lax, the men became increasingly edgy. They felt that each day without contact merely increased the likelihood of it coming the next day. Their uneasiness was also heightened by the fact that they were now experiencing something they hadn’t expected.

  The battalion moved out at dawn on the fourth day. They marched without stopping until noon. After a short break for lunch,
Golf Company was left as security for H and S Company, while the other three rifle companies headed for the different places where they would make camp that night. Hotel set-in an hour before dusk.

  Trippitt called together his platoon commanders in order to go over the daily plan that would be used for the next few weeks. They would move out each day at dawn and march until noon. One platoon would remain behind with the CP, while the other three went on separate patrols. They would return before dark; whereupon two of the platoons would send out ambushes, while the other two placed listening posts fifty to a hundred yards outside the perimeter. Before Trippitt dismissed his platoon commanders, he relayed the news he had just heard over the radio. The commander of Echo Company, his radioman, and one other soldier had been killed by a booby trap.

  When Kramer mentioned this to Tony 5, his reply was, “We had him for a couple of weeks before we got Trippitt. He was almost as shitty . . . Too bad the other dudes got killed.”

  “Seems kind of funny that they only got three men and one of them was the company commander,” Kramer mused.

  “Not funny, just smart. It was probably a command detonated booby trap. The Gook waits till half the company passes, then pulls the cord to detonate the booby trap as soon as he sees a radio. Has a pretty good chance of bagging himself a lieutenant, maybe even a skipper. He just hit the jackpot this time. . . . I wonder if they got him.”

 

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