the Last Run (1987) (26 page)

Read the Last Run (1987) Online

Authors: Leonard B Scott

BOOK: the Last Run (1987)
10.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Thumper raised his head and stared into Matt's eyes for a moment, then winked. "Deal!"

Woodpecker swung his legs up to the bed and leaned back. He'd been talking to Black Eagle for several minutes and shook his head in bewilderment. "Damn, Preach, that's a helluva reason to join the Army. Gettin' to be a warrior so's your people will respect you. Sounds all turned around tome."

Preacher smiled and began taking off his boots. "My people are different in ways you can't understand. Why did you join the Army?"

"I didn't. My draft board joined me up. Didn't matter none. I didn't have no good job or nothin'. I needed the bread and three squares a day. I went to jump school cause it kept me outta Nam a litde longer, plus the extra fifty-five dollars a month. Man, I'm gonna buy me a Harley when I get out and see the country. Ya see that flick, Easy Rider? That's me, man."

"Motorcycles are dangerous. You know how to ride one?"

"Are you kiddin'? You know how much a hog costs? Shit, I'll learn how. And when I do I'm gone from Monroe."

"You would leave your family like that, just leave?"

Woodpecker smiled. "We're a different people, and you wouldn't understand."

"What would you look for when you left your family?"

Woodpecker lay back on his bed with a distant stare. "Me, man. I'd be looking for me."

Russian walked into the barracks and glanced at Rose's empty bunk. "Where is the crazy one?"

Preacher tossed his boot to the floor. "He's in the third barracks listening to some tapes."

Russian frowned and turned around. "I will get him. It is time for sleep."

Woodpecker raised up to his elbows when the Czech left. "Russian is a big mama looking after his kids, ain't he?"

Preacher raised his head up. "He is a great..."

"Warrior, I know," blurted Woodpecker, finishing the sentence. Woodpecker threw his pillow at Preacher. "I hope you hurry up and get to be one of them warriors you think so much of so you'll quit talkin' crazy."

Preacher casually picked up the pillow and suddenly let out a war hoop and jumped on Woodpecker's bed. "A red-haired scalp is what I need!"

The two men wresded and laughed for several seconds before realizing they were being watched. Wade stood at the end of the bunk with Thumper.

Wade shook his head. "Thump, I think I selected us some real weirdos."

Thumper nodded his head solemnly in agreement, but broke into a smile as he replied. "Glad you picked 'em and not me."

Political Officer Le Xuan Can stepped out of the darkness into the light of the kerosene lamp. Before him squatted the hamlet elders of An Chon. The thirty-two-year old soldier took off his wide-brimmed French slouch hat and squatted down, meeting their gaze. "I come with joyous news, my friends. The Provisional Revolutionary Government has declared your hamlet part of the new liberated zone."

An old man wearing a cloth tied around his head spat and looked at the others, snickering. "Another government's words."

Le Can smiled. "Yes, I know you have seen many governments, and all have brought promises; but this time, I bring more than words. I bring truth. Is it not true the puppets claim this a strategic hamlet? Where are the puppets? Do they help you? They cower in their base, miles from here. I am here and will bring medical support and a teacher. These are truths.

"The New Provisional Revolutionary Government is already victorious. The Yankees have ceased their search-and-destroy operations and now stay in defensive positions. The North is no longer being bombed, and the PRG sits in Paris at a conference as the genuine representative of the people.

"I come to consolidate the government's power. We must show the world we are powerful and hold most of the country in the liberated zone."

The old man shook his head. "Politics mean nothing to me. All I have are my water buffalo and my grandchildren. You come to take our rice and sweet potatoes to support your government."

Le Can sighed and lowered his head. "It is not my government, old one. It is your government, and we ask for nothing but that your hamlet proclaim its liberation. I am here-what more truth do you ask? I am now assigned to this province from the District Committee. Your hamlet will hold elections and elect a Peasant Liberation Committee and establish your own priorities so that we may help you with them. What do the puppets offer?"

The old man said nothing, but Nguyen Thi Thanch rose to her feet beside him. She was frail and her hair was closely cropped. "Old Bao has lost his sons to the struggle, as all of us have. We are tired of this war and only want to plant our rice in peace. Bao has lost hope; but what you say is true. The puppets do not help. Promise you will not take our children, and we will join with you again."

Le Can stood and bowed to the woman with respect. "We need your . Youth to stay here and help you. I promise they will not be asked to volunteer. Your decision to help us will be received with great joy. I will return to your hamlet in two days with a teacher and medical team to demonstrate our help. Tell the people this and receive us with open arms and hearts, for it is the new beginning for An Chon."

Le Can stood in the darkness with the hamlet chief as the old ones returned to their huts. "You did well, Comrade Huu. Your mother spoke with authority."

The chief stared at the closest hut. "Yes, she understands the needs of our home; but your promise not to take the youth must not be broken. They are all we have left."

Le Can turned to his two men, who were escorting him. "Tell Comrade Huu what they call me."

The closest soldier stepped closer. "Le Can is known as Thach Sanh'- the peasant knight. He speaks die truth and keeps his word."

Le Can put on his French Legionnaire's hat and placed his arm around Huu's shoulder. "You will be rewarded for your efforts. When I return in two days, introduce me as Thach Sanh. Have the whole hamlet waiting for us. Young and old must take away a lasting impression. It will help the cause and give them hope to have a hero address them."

Huu knew Le Can was indeed a hero of the Liberation Army. He had been awarded the Valiant Fighter Award, Third Class. The French hat was a symbol of his past exploits.

"A hero does not impress those who are tired of war," Huu said. "The medical team and teacher are what they need and should be introduced with great words."

Le Can squeezed the chief's shoulder tightly. "You are wise, Huu. I hear what you say. So it will be. I will bring a red banner for you and ensure you are elected to the hamlet committee. Good night, my friend. In two days, you will be a hero yourself."

Chapter 12

23 September

Fire base Mustang was shrouded in the red dust cloud kicked up by the departing deuce-and-a-half trucks. Childs stepped out of the tactical operations center and hollered out to the assembling Ranger teams, "Team sergeants report to me! Assistant team leaders move your people to the tents across the road!"

Childs and the communications platoon had come out earlier to the ARVN camp and set up the TOC.

Childs walked into the laige underground bunker, followed by the team sergeants. He had a map hanging from the thick- timbered wall. You received your team area of operations before coming out, right?"

The sergeants all nodded and took out their maps.

You've got the rest of the day to plan your routes and coordinate them with me. You'll be going out at dusk at staggered times so we don't have anybody running into each other. This is different than you've been trained, because you're not being infilled by chopper, and you'll be moving at night. When you drove up you saw that this fire base looks like a big tit. To the west is rice paddies and in the other directions are open rolling hills leading to the mountains. You'll cross the open areas and reach the mountains tonight so you won't be seen. Tomorrow afternoon, after resting up, you'll establish ambushes. The whole idea is training. You'll get used to each other and have time to work out the glitches. But remember, there are dinks out there! Follow the rules we taught you. Don't be half steppin' or Charlie is gonna light your ass. The ARVNs haven't been too active, so Charlie thinks he can walk around with no problem. You're here to convince him he done fucked up thinking it was over. Stay alert, and kill me some dinksl Sergeant Wade, you stay a minute. The rest of you start planning your routes."

Wade moved closer to the map as the men filed out. Childs waited till they departed and motioned to a chair.

"Sit down, Wade. You have a village in your AO, so take it easy and don't blow away any civilians."

Wade didn't like the mission and let out a sigh. "Sarge, I've never worked in such an open area before, and I sure as hell haven't been around any villages."

"I know that," retorted Childs, "but you got more experience than the others. That's why I picked your team. Just skirt around the village tonight and set up your bush in the foothills past the rice paddies. Anything that moves at night is bad guys, so grease em.

Wade shook his head. "It's a long hump tonight, at least eight klicks. Hell, we don't move at night in the mountains!"

Childs studied the young sergeant's face for a moment. "It ain't like you to complain. Whatsa matter?"

Wade lowered his head a few seconds before looking up. "I'm good in mountains. I know what's got to be done up there, but this open stuff is new to me. Here I am, supposed to be training new men and now I'm just as cherry as they are. Not a very good example, huh?"

Childs, realizing his sergeant wasn't feeling his usual confidence, leaned back in his chair. "Wade, you'll do fine, believe me. I was with the Cav my first tour and this is all we did. I wish I'd had your experience when I first got here. Look, it's no different. Instead of jungle you got the night to protect you. Once you get past the vill, it's like a regular mission."

Wade felt a little better from telling his sergeant how he felt. He looked at the map more closely and smiled. "Well, Sarge, the village of An Chon better not have any sleepwalkers 'cause they gonna pay big-time if they do."

Wade spat a brown stream of tobacco juice into a Coke can as his team studied the map he'd spread out on a foodocker. "I marked the route. Does anyone have any suggestions?"

Rose looked up. "Yeah, forget it. It's all rice paddy, man. I ain't got duck feet."

Woodpecker ran his finger along the line Wade had drawn and tapped the village location. "It's gonna depend on wind direction if we're gonna get that close to the village before we go around."

Wade was surprised how the redhead had spoken so knowl- edgeably and leaned over the map. "Why?"

"I was with the Second Battalion, 503rd for awhile before going to the Aviation Battalion, and worked an area with lots of vills. The dinks have dogs and water buffs that'll smell us a klick away."

"Water buffs?" asked Thumper, smiling.

"Yeah, their buffalo can smell a GI bucoo far away and then goes dinky dau. The dinks put their buff pens on the outskirts of a vill and when the buffs start snortin' and stompin' around, the dinks know they got GIs coming. The dogs are inside the hootches and when they get wind of us, they'll start howling, lettin' everybody know, too."

Wade patted the redhead's thin back. "I knew you were good for somethin'."

Rose leaned back, mumbling. "The dude is full of shit, man. We gonna have to hump farther to get around the vill now."

The sun had just disappeared below the horizon when the first six teams passed through the perimeter gate. Wade's team 3-1 was the first out and headed due west toward the rice paddies.

Woodpecker had experience negotiating the narrow dikes and moved easily while the others slipped and fell in the rice paddy's two feet of muck. Initially they moved slowly, but by the time the darkness came, the rest of the team had gotten the hang of it. The paddies were interspersed with islands of high ground thickly vegetated with soaring bamboo thickets and other growth. The half-full moon reflected off the water, silhouetting the team and making them perfect targets.

After moving for an hour, Wade halted the team alongside one of the islands to regain his composure. He'd been in some hairy situations, but he'd never felt as nervous as he did right now. The team, walking along the dikes in the moonlight, would be powerless if they were ambushed, with no place to go and no cover. A Ranger team lived on stealth and depended on its senses, especially those of sight and sound. The night stole the team's sight, and the crickets, frogs, and damnable creaking and moaning of the bamboo took away their hearing. They walked along the dikes with only one hope-good luck, and luck was a nonfactor to a professional.

Wade knew they were getting close to the village. He took several deep breaths to control his shaking and upset stomach, then licked his finger and held it up. The wind was out of the east. At least they were downwind and wouldn't have to walk so far to skirt around. He took another deep breath, praying their luck would hold for another hour, and began walking again.

Le Xuan Can sat by the firelight and, with a smile, set down his diary. The peasants of the local villages here had done exacdy what those in Binh Dinh Province had done; they complained of the hardships of the struggle and begged that the youth not be taken. He always promised the peasants not to take their young, but he knew what would really happen. The old teacher would fill the young hearts with the fiery words of Ho Chi Minh. Soon they would overcome their parents' fears, and they would beg to serve in the struggle. They would become a youth regiment in the People's Army; the peasants would then work harder to feed their children and their comrades. He had seen the phenomenon too often not to know the eventual outcome. Only time was needed, time and patience. The puppets and Yankees had left the peasants alone to hold their roads and cities, while the liberators of the true government held the people's hearts. Tomorrow, he, the Thach Sanh-peasant knight, would begin his slow march to victory, and the children of An Chon would soon . . . very soon, be marching along with him.

Other books

A Hundred and One Days: A Baghdad Journal by Asne Seierstad, Ingrid Christophersen
Cellar Door by Suzanne Steele
WarriorsandLovers by Alysha Ellis
Throy by Vance, Jack
Winter's Torment by Katie Wyatt
Here by Mistake by David Ciferri