Chapter 12

Stars... thousands of them in the clear night sky over La Jolla. It was a little after one in the morning and I was outside by the pool laying on one of the lounge chairs. I was wrapped in a large cotton terry robe Susan had given me some weeks before. It helped ward off the night chill. It was almost unbelievable that not that long ago I had been looking at those same stars in Vietnam. I had been awakened by the same dream. There was nothing I could do to bring back Swede but I had to keep replaying it as that invisible hand had flung him aside just 100 feet in front of me. Doc Richardson said the dreams would fade soon. Not soon enough for me.

It was hot. Christ it was always hot. Swede wasn't even supposed to be with me on this patrol. Since we both made Sergeant we had been assigned for the first time to separate squads. We were both squad leaders. I had lost two people to rotation and hospital and Swede had gotten two people in on rotation. They were pretty green so he asked I take them out and get them some experience. He decided to tag along. We had 13 people when we left the firebase. Some lucky 13. It wasn't supposed to be any big deal. Just a quick three-day patrol out to a downed CH-46 helicopter to check on remains and to see if there was anything we should destroy. Swede and I had already completed an initial 13-month tour but we talked each other into a 6-month extension, grabbing the 30 days of free leave. We spent 30 days in Sweden with Swede's relatives and several horny cousins and their friends. It seemed odd now that we had put our lives on the line for 30 days leave. We were young - what did we know? It was September 1968.

Swede had the point - he always wanted the point even though as squad leader he wasn't supposed to be out there. We were on our way back to the firebase and had just moved into a tree line - a tree line of banana trees and other tropical foliage on the edge of abandoned rice paddies in a valley south of DaNang. We had to move about 200 meters to another tree line. I checked it out with my binoculars. "Can't tell shit from here!" Swede grinned, "Well guess we'll just have to go check it out. That's the way home". "Okay everyone saddle up. Flak jackets zipped and chin straps fastened." That elicited groans from a few of my people. We usually wore the hated and very hot flak jackets unzipped over a green t-shirt and our helmets with chin straps unfastened. We had to carry everything in the 90-degree heat and the jackets and helmets were unappreciated unless someone was bringing some serious shit down on us. A helmet feels comforting when someone is trying to drop a mortar round on your head.

Swede took off at a trot. It was no time to stroll since we would be exposed out there with only decaying paddy dikes and foot tall grass for cover. I was about 50 feet behind him. It was about two - pretty much the hottest time of the day. "Swede... this is not a fuckin foot race!" I panted after the first 100 meters. I looked back - the squad was strung out behind me but all keeping up. Swede had moved out about 100 feet ahead, M-14 rifle at the ready, head swiveling, looking for trouble. He and I had the only M-14s since they had been replaced by M-16s. The M-14 was much heavier but it fired a round that packed more punch and in our minds the M-14 was a real rifle not some Mattie Mattel piece of shit.

Our objective was the flank of the shorter of the two tree lines. The idea was if there were NVA in there we would roll up their flank towards the middle of the L made by the two tree lines. We ran diagonally toward that short tree line. I knew this was a perfect place for an ambush and also knew we had to get across the killing ground quickly.

When Swede got about 50 meters from the end of the tree line, an invisible hand swatted him sidewise. It was almost comical as he was snatched up and then disappeared into the grass, almost before the sound of the explosion reached me. I had heard people use the expression, "then all hell broke loose". Well that was a good description of what came next. I was on my face probably before Swede hit the ground thanks to reflexes honed by almost 18 months of combat. There was an enormous amount of fire coming at us from both sides of the L in the tree line. Bullets cracked over my head, making my ears ring they were so close. At least two machine guns were working us over and several RPGs came our way. I hunkered down behind a 12-inch high patty dike and then heard the comforting sound of Jones's M-60. Jones was an enormous black man who carried the M-60s, 26 pounds like a toy. Then Nape opened up with his M-79. Bloop, pause, blam, bloop, pause, blam! The NVA had screwed up the ambush I thought. Some rookie had tripped the Claymore too soon. That was little consolation; knowing Swede was up there, probably dead. But it had saved the rest of us. Danny Davens was right behind me maybe 50 feet. I couldn't see him but I could hear him calling for a "fire mission". He was our radioman and was calling for fire support from our 81 MM mortars at the firebase. I needed to get to Swede but couldn't move.

A noise behind me caused me to swing around - rifle at the ready. "Doc, for Christ sake you liked to scared the shit our of me!" He gingerly pushed the barrel of my rifle out of his face. We were head to head, both using the dike as cover. Doc. Rosen was the only New York Jew I had ever met. He was our Navy Corpsman and as brave as any man - probably braver than most. I never learned why he decided to drop out of college and become a Corpsman. He did say his parents were furious. "Swede down?" I nodded, "Over there about 100 feet." The NVA fire seemed to have lost its intensity, partly because there were now so few targets. Jones would fire off a belt and crawl to a new position. Same with Nape and his M-79. "As soon as the 81's start in I'm going to get him. I'll bring him back here." "No, I'm going with you." I tried to dissuade him but I knew I couldn't win this one. Swede was Docs friend too and could probably do a damn site more for him than I could.

"Danny, where the hell are those 81s?!" I yelled. "Soon... and the skipper wants to know what's going on." "Tell him it looks like we have a reinforced NVA company right where we want them!" I smiled at my own joke. If those 81s didn't start soon we were all going to be dead. "Shot out!" yelled Davens. I knew that he was in no position to direct their fire so I was going to have to raise my head when the first round landed. I heard the round for a split second and then blam! I poked my head up and could just see the smoke on the other side of the trees. A machine gun opened up on me. Rounds thudded into the dike. "Danny, tell them to drop 50 and fire for effect!"

"How many?" Doc asked. "A company at least with lots of heavy weapons... maybe 100 to 125." He just nodded. "Shit Doc, nobody lives forever!" He smiled, "I'll settle for tomorrow." "Danny... Doc and I are going to get Swede as soon as the 81s start in. Tell them to repeat with smoke. Pass the word that once the smoke starts, everybody back to the tree line where we started. Jones and Nape to cover. And get us a medivac! - the LZ will be just behind those trees. Got that?" I had to yell to be heard over the din. Jones had spotted one of the machine guns and was trying to take it out. "Got it - smoke, pull back and medivac!"

We had four tubes working for us that day and they poured rounds into and around that tree line. There was a lull from there while they ducked for a change. "Go!" Doc and I ran crouched low. It took us only seconds to get to where I had seen Swede go down but it seemed forever. I kept expecting a bullet. A rifle barrel and a wide-awake Swede greeted us. "Thought that was you but couldn't be sure," he croaked. "About fuckin time." He was also snugged up against a paddy dike. He was covered with blood from the waist down and a trail led from where he had been hit. There was lots of blood. He had his field dressing around one thigh. It was soaked through. "Glad to see you Doc." Doc stuck a needle into him and went to work cutting off the remnants of his camouflage trousers.

"What ya think, a company?" I nodded. "Hope those 81's kick the shit out of them." I heard Jones and Nape firing, everybody else okay?" "So far, I think. Now shut up and let Doc work. I've got to see what's going on." I ventured a peek over the dike. No rounds came my way. We were a lot closer now to the trees. Our mortar fire tapered off. Where was the damn smoke? I spotted movement to my left in a portion of the trees that had escaped the mortar barrage. An NVA officer was rallying his troops. I carefully lined him up in my sites. These guys were going to flank us. I didn't want to give us away yet and I wanted them out of the trees before I fired. Where's the damn smoke? "Doc, when the smoke starts get him out of here. I'll cover you." "Can't - it's going to take both of us." "Okay, but I've got to take care of some of these guys first."

About 20 NVA soldiers came out of the trees. I don't think they knew where we were. There was no firing yet. Breathe, relax, aim, slack, squeeze, bam! The rifle recoiled into my shoulder. I squeezed off the first round and the officer went down. Breathe, relax, aim, slack, squeeze, bam! Two. Breathe relax, aim, slack, squeeze, bam! Three. I was a killing machine. It was almost like I was still at Edson Range at Camp Pendleton. I hit what I pointed at. They fled back into the trees. Two came out with cover fire to get their officer. I killed them. Then the smoke rounds started coming in, and Jones opened up again.

I slung both weapons over my shoulder and we dragged Swede to his feet and with his arms around our shoulders we started back across the paddies. I could see my guys hightailing it back toward the trees, which seemed very far away. Three were being carried or dragged. We passed Jones. "Let's go Jones - we're done here!" He was on his own, his assistant gunner, Akers was dead next to the gun. Jones' helmet was gone and he was bleeding from a head wound. He fired the last of the belt as we went by. The NVA were waking up and rounds started to crack around us. Danny appeared out of nowhere. "What the fuck... ?" "Sorry, no... medivacs... for... an... hour..." he panted. "Get on the Army push and see if they have anything nearby!" I said. He ran off toward the trees handset to his ear. The fire was getting heavy now. Jones and Nape were dragging Akers as they brought up the rear. We were only a couple hundred feet from the trees when something hit me. It felt like a baseball bat in the butt. I fell. I couldn't get up. Doc crouched over me. "Sorry Doc, tripped, I'll get up." I couldn't. He stuck a needle in me.

The rest was pretty hazy. A couple of crazy teenage Army pilots flying Hueys came in and worked that tree line over good and then one set done between us and the NVA as rounds blistered the place. Jones and Nape had stayed with me and Doc and Swede. Our own little Alamo I thought as the morphine started to take over. The Army door gunner nearest the NVA kept the suppressing fire going from his M-60 as Jones fired his last belt. I could feel and hear the rounds smacking the aluminum skin of that helicopter. Nape and Doc loaded us on along with Aker's body. Doc looked back toward the trees, knowing there was more wounded there. He stayed. The door gunner dropped a couple of cans of M-60 ammo on to the ground for Jones when he refused to join us. He kept wiping blood from his eyes. Moments later we were on our way to the Naval Hospital at DaNang.

I would never forget those crazy Army pilots with the big yellow 1st Cav patch on the nose of their aircraft. More balls than brains, but God bless them.

I didn't know Swede didn't make it until several days later after I had arrived at the Naval Hospital in Japan.

And then there was Mary.

I woke and slowly raised my head. I was face down in the hospital bed. My right hip and thigh and buttocks throbbed. I had been in surgery for the second time - once in Vietnam to patch me together and again in Japan to finish the job. I felt like I had been hit by a truck. There was a gorgeous woman standing in front of the windows. The sun was streaming in. She turned toward me, the sun framing her. God, she was beautiful!

"Are you real? That was the only thing my drug-fogged brain could get out of my mouth. I really wasn't sure that she wasn't a dream or hallucination.

She started to say something, changed her mind, smiled wistfully, and simply said, "Yes."

"I thought you were an angel... come to take me to heaven." That caused her to smile again.

She was about 30, shoulder-length auburn hair framed her beautiful Nordic face. Her eyes were ice blue. She was tall and even under the blue smock she wore I could see the outline of full firm breasts and a trim waist.

"May I have some water... please?"

I watched with rapt attention as she moved toward me, poured the water, found a straw and held it to my lips. I moved my hand up to help steady the glass and my fingers covered hers. She didn't try to pull away. I was fascinated by her red nail polish and the coolness of her fingers where our fingers met. I finished the water.

"Thank you." I wanted to stay awake to talk to the angel but I couldn't keep my head up. I slept.

I was dreaming that I was home and my mother had made delicious soup. I could smell it and I was so very hungry but she made me wait. She also had a different perfume on. I pleaded for a taste of the soup.

I woke.

My angel was sitting in a chair under the window, reading, a slight smile had her full red lips pulled up a bit. The sun appeared to be in the same spot. She was dressed differently - this time there was no sign of a smock. She had an ivory colored silk blouse, a blue pleated skirt that just covered her knees, tan stockings and matching blue high-heeled pumps. Her jewelry was a simple strand of cloisonné beads that was around her neck and fell between those gorgeous breasts.

She looked up. Her smile replaced by a look of concern. "Why concern?" I thought. Am I that bad? I just looked at her... drinking in her beauty.