THERE BE DRAGONS

by Peter Hallett

  Maxwell swallowed. “Sure.”

  Stephens turned back to Cook’s body. The Doc was now leaning on the dead man’s shoulder, exhausted from his work. “Get him down, Doc.” Stephens patted the Doc on the shoulder. “Jacobs, I need a word.”

  Jacobs and Stephens walked away from the men just as Diaz exited the tunnel. “What happened?” he asked.

  They both ignored him and moved out of earshot.

  “There was nothing I could have done for that man, Sergeant. I warned them to not touch anything,” Jacobs said.

  “You’re right,” said Stephens.

  “Command has given me new coordinates. We’re on ambush tonight. In the morning we move out to search a village.”

  “Okay, but at the moment I couldn’t care less about ambush,” Stephens said.

  “You wanted to speak to me?” asked Jacobs. “Make it quick. The chopper will be here to pick Cook up soon, I need the men to pop smoke.”

  “What was you doing sending Diaz in that hole?” Stephens said through gritted teeth.

  “We heard a shot,” said Jacobs.

  “I tugged on the rope. Cage knew I was safe.” Stephens pressed forward.

  “I wanted to make sure, I didn’t want to lose my sergeant.” Jacobs took a step back.

  Stephens took a step forward. “You almost got Diaz killed, we coulda lost two good men today instead of just one!” The sergeant placed a finger on Jacobs’s forehead. “Think, will you?”

  Stephens turned from Jacobs and shouted orders. “Jackson, get ahold of yourself! I know you two were boyfriends, but we need to pop smoke for the chopper. Get on it!”

  Jacobs breathed a sigh of relief. Stephens heard.

  “LT,” said Diaz. “I need a word.”

  “Make it quick, Private.”

  “I had a good look around in the tunnel, it’s free of enemy. Well, free of living enemy. It was a place to bring the wounded. The room was full of hammocks containing dead NVA. Nothing unusual about that, except one of the men looked to have been attacked by an animal. Bitten. I also found some medical records. It said a dragon had attacked him. I just thought you should know. Just in case we run into a dangerous creature out here.”

  Jacobs lost the small amount of composure he was holding on to. He screamed into Diaz’s face. “I have enough to be dealing with here, Private! I don’t want to be hearing stories about mythical animals!”

  Stephens smiled at that moment.

  “Yes, sir,” said Diaz to Jacobs.

  • • • • •

  That night, back at the LZ, Jacobs was stood with Buttons on the edge of the perimeter. Their faces illuminated red from a flashlight Jacobs was using to view his map.

  “Okay, that’s the route,” Jacobs said as he ran his finger over the path. “I’ve been as careful as humanly possible planning the journey. I’ve examined every possibility. I’ve picked out what I think will be the quickest and quietest route.”

  “Nothing more you can do, LT,” said Buttons.

  “Okay. Radio command and inform them of the route I’ve marked on the map.”

  “Yes, sir.” Buttons took the map from Jacobs and got on the horn.

  Jacobs went to stand with Maxwell, who was clicking a new roll of film into his camera with

  sharp motions. “How you holding out?” the reporter asked.

  “I’m still hurting over losing my first man. A man whom I had harsh words with not long before his death. I can’t forgive myself even though I know it wasn’t my fault. I’d given the order to not touch anything. You heard me.” Jacobs looked to Maxwell for acknowledgment.

  The reporter replied with a nod.

  “But I still feel horrible. Will it always feel this way … losing a man?”

  “I’m sure it gets easier.”

  “I can’t bear the load of any more men’s souls. For something so intangible, a lost soul sure does weigh a lot on a man.”

  “Can I quote you on that?” asked Maxwell

  “My father was a soldier, and my grandfather before him,” Jacobs ignored the question. “They have never mentioned the responsibility of a life, and what it feels like to lose one. Maybe it weighs on them too. Maybe it haunts them to this day. Maybe I’ll be haunted by the same ghosts my family are.”

  “I wish I could offer you some advice. But I have none.”

  Stephens joined them. He glowered at Maxwell.

  Maxwell moved away, playing with his camera and looking nervous.

  “You okay, LT? You look deep in thought.”

  “I’m fine.” Jacobs cleared his throat. “I have our route planned. The position of the ambush point is some old temple ruins. There will be heaps of cover for us, not so much for any passing enemy.”

  “I couldn’t help but hear you say, our route. Ambush ain’t the place for the lieutenant. You should stay back at the LZ,” said Stephens.

  “I understand that, but I want to do this. It will be a good learning experience for me.” Jacobs couldn’t look Stephens in the eye.

  “Well, I wouldn’t wanna get in the way of a good education. We’ll keep you safe. Put you with Buttons, in the back. If you get lost in the dark, don’t start yelling. Sit tight and we’ll find you.”

  “Okay.”

  “I have the men selected and we’re ready to go.”

  “Put Diaz on point, he seems to know what he’s doing,” said Jacobs.

  “Already have done,” said Stephens.

  • • • • •

  Diaz started them into the jungle.

  Maxwell was standing by a foxhole taking pictures of the men as they passed by, the flash from the camera lighting the faces of the soldiers for a brief seconds.

  Cage gave the reporter a dirty look.

  Teacher and Smith smiled for the camera.

  Jackson didn’t acknowledge it and said under his breath, “That guy really is a world class dickhead.”

  The Doc didn’t acknowledge it either, and some other men whose names Jacobs didn’t even know.

  Buttons walked with Jacobs. “I’d like to shove that camera up his ass,” he said.

  “LT, anything I can quote you on?” Maxwell asked.

  “Life insurance. What about a life insurance quote?” Jacobs kept his eyes focused on the dark jungle.

  “That’s a good one,” laughed Maxwell. “I haven’t had that response before.”

  • • • • •

  Wind hissed through the jungle canopy. A heavy rain was falling. As the drops hit the leaves, the noise seemed to beat on Jacobs’s eardrums and echo around his mind.

  Stephens had put Jacobs, Buttons, and the Doc at the rear of the ambush. All three men wore ponchos and sat in puddles of mud behind a worn and battered temple wall.

  The other men were moving into position.

  Jacobs saw Jackson setting up his M-60 towards the left side tip of the horseshoe-shaped formation. Two more men positioned another M-60 on the right tip of the horseshoe.

  Smith placed the spare five hundred rounds of ammo by Jackson, who checked the fifty-round teaser belt in the gun to make sure the bolt was to the rear.

  Smith checked that both of the claymore mines he’d set up were properly positioned then joined Jackson in position and plugged the arming wires into the firing magnetos.

  Jacobs could see Stephens with Cage and Teacher at center right.

  Teacher was on one knee. He had braced himself against a tree and was loading his Remington 12-gauge shotgun.

  Stephens was prone in the center of the three men. He had laid out spare magazines and grenades within easy reach.

  Cage was on one knee behind the fallen head of a Buddha statue. The rest of the statue was nothing more than rubble under his feet. Cage had his M-16 slung over a shoulder. Its spare mags rested on top of the head. He was loading Cook’s Blooper.

  To the left of that position was Diaz with another private. The private was trying to gain some form of comfort in the rain. He wiped the water from hi
s face to have it covered again in an instant.

  Jacobs did the same. “It’s hard to see the men in the dark of the jungle’s night,” he whispered.

  “That’s the idea,” Buttons whispered back. “Even if the rain is an annoyance to our visibility, it’s also an annoyance to the enemy’s. The sound is also good cover for us moving into position.”

  A mist formed across the jungle floor. It moved around the debris of the temple and engulfed the men.

  The mist brought hordes of mosquitos that buzzed around Jacobs’s face. He swatted some away

  and saw a silhouette of Cage doing the same.

  Jacobs took a second to listen to the chirrup of tree frogs then removed a Starlite Scope from his webbing. He placed the device, which looked like a telescopic rifle sight, to his eye. It took a few seconds for his vision to adjust to the light-intensified magnified jungle.

  He could see some glowing green shapes in the dark but nothing he could call enemy.

  “Any use?” asked Buttons.

  “Not really. You need the weather, power, and ambient light to be just right for this thing to be of any use. All I can see is a greasy green smear.” Jacobs placed the Starlite back in his webbing.

  He checked the mud by his feet with his hand and found the detonators for the claymores. The electric firing devices were shaped like miniature staplers. Each one had a wire clip placed under the handle to prevent accidental firing.

  Jacobs whispered his way through the sequence. “Flip back the clip, squeeze the handle. The jolt of electricity travels down the wire and sets off a blasting cap in the mine. The C-4 torches inside the body of the device and a hail of ball bearings is sent out in a range of seventy yards.”

  The rain stopped.

  The thud of the heavenly waters hitting the rudder-like leaves of the jungle was gone.

  The sound from the swarm of mosquitos had ended.

  The chirrup of tree frogs no longer floated through the temple.

  Jacobs held his breath. He tried to make himself as silent as the sleeping jungle. The eeriness of the location chilled him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

  Then ahead, through the mist, a shadowy figure.

  “Is that a man? Or just some bushes playing tricks with my eyes.” Jacobs turned to Buttons.

  The RTO had his eyes shut, looked asleep.

  Jacobs glanced at the Doc.

  The Doc was busy checking his equipment.

  He looked back at the figure. “Has anyone else spotted the figure? Yes or no?”

  The shadow moved slightly. Jacobs saw the shape of the helmet.

  The Soviet-styled helmet.

  The NVA helmet.

  Jacobs could feel and hear the pulse in his temples pounding hard. Sweat ran down the tracks on his face that the rain had left.

  The figure walked forward.

  Jacobs saw his AK-47.

  The shadow motioned behind with his rifle and waved more men forward.

  Soon the line of trees was full of the shadowed and faceless NVA.

  Jacobs flipped the click and squeezed the handle. A hail of ball bearings exploded on the enemy.

  The other men triggered their claymores and the sound of explosions filled the jungle.

  Red and orange flashes illuminated the NVA or consumed them. Jacobs saw one NVA explode like a water balloon full of thick red liquid.

  The platoon opened fire.

  The M-60s were deafening. They tore up the jungle and enemy. They cut through both bark and flesh.

  Jacobs fired at the muzzle flashes he saw from AKs ahead of him. “I can’t tell if I’m hitting anything,” he said.

  The soldier with Diaz was on one knee cycling through ammo fast. His rifle was on full automatic and he was spraying fire across the tree line, left to right, right to left. He expelled a magazine, clipped another in place and continued.

  Jacobs could see Diaz prone, firing in controlled bursts.

  Diaz waited until he saw a figure or a muzzle flash, then when there was a light explosion, like a new star forming, spitting a bullet forth, he would fire three rounds. If there was no reply from the star’s creator Jacobs figured it meant death or retreat.

  Then Jacobs saw something that made his whole body shake with freight.

  An enemy grenade had rolled to Diaz from the bush and come to a stop by his elbows.

  Diaz dropped his rifle, picked up the grenade and threw it back at the enemy.

  Diaz hit the deck and covered his head with his hands as dirt and branches fell on him. He removed some of the dead jungle from his body then picked up his M-16 and started to shoot again.

  The soldier with Diaz removed another empty mag. “I’m out!”

  Jacobs could barely hear him above the rattle of AK fire.

  Suddenly the solider grasped his chest and fell to the mud.

  “Doc!” Diaz waved towards Jacobs’s position.

  The Doc charged forward. He jumped over the fallen wall Jacobs used as cover.

  Jacobs made sure to lay down heavy fire to suppress the enemy long enough for the Doc to get to the fallen soldier.

  The Doc landed in the mud. It took him but a second to realize the soldier was dead. “He’s gone!”

  “Get back to the LT, I’ll cover you!” Diaz kept up his fire.

  “Okay, but fall back to the same position! Don’t stay out here on your own. You’re a dead man if you do!”

  “I know, Doc. Now get going!”

  “Diaz, Doc. Move it!” Jacobs lost his patience.

  The Doc jumped up and ran back towards Jacobs.

  Diaz got up to one knee and switched his rifle to full automatic. He fought against the recoil as he sprayed the enemy line before him.

  Jacobs loaded in a new mag, chambered a round and then fired through the mist beyond the ambush site.

  He saw a figure drop.

  “I’ve downed it,” he said to himself. “I’ve done what you asked in Long Binh, Lynch. I now have a definite answer to your question.”

  The Doc fell down by Jacobs. Bullets thumped into the mud by his body. The Doc rolled to cover but another shot managed to hit him.

  It pinged off his helmet.

  “Close one, Doc,” said Jacobs.

  “Too close, LT.”

  Diaz started to run to Jacobs’s position. An enemy grenade exploded behind him. The force of the blast blew Diaz forward, off his feet.

  He hit the mud and his helmet rolled away from him. He shook his head and held a hand over one of his ears, as if it was ringing. He felt around for his rifle.

  Jacobs went to leap up but Buttons pulled him back into cover. “You can’t help him! Stay in cover. Don’t be foolish! We need you alive, Lieutenant!”

  Diaz found his gun and pulled it to his body. He took a deep breath and charged forward again. He ran as if his legs were jelly.

  He tripped by Jacobs and hit the deck again.

  “You okay, Private?” asked Jacobs.

  “Yeah … I think so.”

  Diaz rolled from his back. Set himself on his front, took aim with his rifle and was back in the fight.

  Teacher’s shotgun broke up the sound of automatic fire.

  Jacobs could see the farm boy still leant on the tree, using its thick trunk as cover. The tree had taken many hits and had cracked open in several places. Lighter wood protruded from the cracks.

  Sawdust spurted as more bullets hit. Teacher didn’t pay it any attention. He just fired at the lightshow of weapon muzzle flashes, shells ejecting from his weapon to his right and flying over Stephens’s prone body.

  Stephens dropped his rifle and stood up. He jerked the pin from an M-26 frag grenade and threw the weapon. He dropped back down.

  The frag exploded and before the debris had settled, Stephens had his rifle back to his shoulder, firing.

  Jacobs let out a spurt of fire over Stephens’s head. “Stephens’s position is getting hit hard! They need all the support they can get. Covering fire!�
� Jacobs shouted at Buttons and Diaz. They followed the order.

  Cage was pinned down. Enemy fire chipped away at the head of the Buddha. Stone and dust flew.

  Jacobs tapped Diaz on the shoulder and pointed at Cage. They both fired at the trees beyond him.

  Cage jumped to his feet and fired the Blooper.

  A cluster of NVA bodies separated into the air. Limbs tumbled down through the foliage. Blood-tails behind them like a failed NASA rocket hurtling to earth.

  Cage placed the Blooper on the Buddha’s head and took ahold of his M-16. He fired on full automatic. It was a crazy series of shots. Once the mag was empty in the M-16, he took ahold of the Blooper in his other hand and ducked back down into cover with both weapons. Bullets peppered the head again.

  Jacobs and Diaz continued to give supporting fire.

  Cage placed the Blooper on the ground and expelled the empty mag from his rifle. He clicked in a new one and fired off some rounds around the side of the head.

  Stephens threw another frag, then got back low. He reloaded his CAR-15.

  The explosion from the frag threw an NVA into their position.

  The dead body landed across Stephens’s legs. He turned, wiggled the body off himself, and kicked it away. It rolled, leaves sticking to the bloody charred flesh.

  Stephens was quickly back shooting. He took out two more NVA with controlled bursts.

  Jacobs was empty. He expelled the mag then removed another one from his webbing. He clipped it in and chambered a round. He then looked over to check on Jackson and Smith.

  Jackson was laying down a steady spread from the M-60, the power of the gun vibrating through his body, making him jitter with each shot.

  The weapon cut up jungle, flattened growth and made Mother Nature bleed, and NVA bleed too. A group had their legs chewed by the powerful gun. Their bodies fell and lay over each other becoming a blended human barricade.

  An NVA jumped the bodies and fired his AK.

  The bullets hit the ground near Jackson. The shots were close enough to force him to look from his line of fire, to guard his eyes from the muddy water kicked up from the impacts.

  Smith fired a single shot.