The Amulets of Power II: the Kennedy Wars
Chapter 6

Copyright© 2010 by Uncle Jim

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 6 - An unsuspecting Sergeant Bill Baker has been chosen by the Amulets to be their visible representative against the North Vietnamese, while they continue their clandestine work against the Vietnamese invisibly. Bill has been trained in several Army schools and given a girlfriend to help him. Now it's up to him. This is part 1 of the prequel to The Amulets of Power.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Science Fiction   Oriental Female   Military  

I had just started to open the shipping case in the commo bunker when Meadows came in.

“I want to see what this thing looks like,” he told me, as I opened the locks on the case and removed the top. The main unit was in the middle of the case surrounded by foam and the other modular units. Spare parts, manuals and tools were in the bottom under these units.

“Are you just running code here?” I asked Meadows.

“Yes, that’s all we can do with the GRC-109. What will that baby do?”

“You can run code or voice; AM or FM; regular or Single Sideband (SSB). There is even an encryption module for really sensitive data,” I told him.

“You can run voice with that!?” he asked. “Over what kind of distance?” he wanted to know.

“Eight hundred miles at least,” I told him.

“Is that the new PRC-74?”

“I’ve never seen the PRC-74,” I informed him, “but it wasn’t called that at the school.”

“Is it a new Collins? You said that it had SSB.”

“No, I don’t think so. It doesn’t have a manufacture’s name plate. The people at the school would say very little about where it was made or what designation it had. It was always referred to as ‘the Radio’. They seemed to be afraid to say much about it. Security there was tight. I mean really tight. We didn’t even get to talk to guys in the other classes. The people in charge treated everything like it was Top Secret. They even read our mail before it went out. We had time off, but couldn’t leave the school compound while we were students. The compound was pretty nice. At least the parts that I saw were. They were just really up tight about everything,” I finished.

“Just damn!” Meadows commented.

“Yes,” I added, “and when we graduated, we had to lug these things around with us.”

Meadows helped me set up the radio in one corner of the bunker. There were calls from the patrol going out on the PRC-25 and he handled those while I worked on the radio.

“We’ll try this baby out tonight,” he told me. “I’ll send in my regular report to the B Detachment, and then we’ll see if this thing can get through to them.”

“Where is the B Detachment?” I asked.

“It’s in Ubon,” he replied. “There is another one up in Nan, a third one in Sakon Nakhon near the Nakhon Phanom Airbase, and a fourth one on the peninsula at Trang. The C detachment is in Lop Buri at Camp Pawai. We also talk to the guys across the boarder in Nam some. We get support from them sometimes and pass on news about action on the Ho Chi Minh trail.”

“Who do you talk to?” I asked, interested,

“Usually Ben Het, Dac To, and sometimes Kontum. We also talk to the other camps here in Thailand along the boarder with Laos. There are several camps in places where it’s easy to cross the mountains from southern Laos. There’s about 125 miles of boarder through the mountains here, but only a few good valleys or places where there is an easy passage. There are four other camps between here and the Kong River. It flows out of Laos and Charlie likes to use it and the Mekong to move supplies. There are Seals and the Thai Navy and Marines on the rivers making it difficult for them there,” Meadows explained.

Right then the GRC-109 started spilling out code and Meadows had to break off and answer them. I was finished with the radio for now and it was almost 1000 hrs, so I headed over to Operations.

“Oh good, Baker,” Sawyer said as I came in, “The old man is ready for you. Go over and sit by the map board. He’ll be with you in a few seconds.” I went over and looked at the maps they had on some sheets of plywood against the wall of the bunker.

“Can you read a map well, young man?” a voice behind me asked, startling me. I turned quickly to see Capt. Warren standing behind me.

“Yes, sir. We had a lot of map reading in Ranger and Pathfinder school,” I told him.

“Good. The Army doesn’t always stress map reading enough to the younger people,” he said, and then launched into his briefing.

“We’re here,” he said, using a pointer to indicate our position, “which is right where the NVA wants to bring supplies and men through to South Vietnam. There are four other camps further west along the border with southern Laos, here, here, here and here,” he said, using the pointer to indicate the locations along the boarder, “where there is easy passage through the mountains.

“There are also Special Forces camps in South Vietnam at Ben Het, Dak To, Dak Pek and Polei Kleng, among others. We are all trying to keep the NVA from infiltrating people and supplies into the South,” he didn’t indicate where these were, but there were pins in the map indicating their locations, just as there had been pins indicating the locations of the other camps here.

“The NVA have a big supply base up here at Attapu in Laos. They use the Kong River to move supplies and people south out of Laos. If the Thai Army and Navy weren’t here, they would have an easy time of it as they have intimidated the Cambodians to our south. The Seals and the Thai Navy have bases all along the river where it’s the boarder and also on the river once it’s inside Thai territory.

“Because of all of that, the NVA wants us out of here, so they can move supplies and men down through the Plie Trap and Ia Drang valleys and also through Ratanah Kiri province into Lower Cambodia,” he had indicated all of these locations on the map. “That’s the reason we were being mortared every night. We have 200 trained strikers in two companies here. We have another 50 men in two platoons in training. It’s not a large force, but adequate for our position. We try to keep a patrol out at all times, but it isn’t always possible with the attacks. They tried a couple of infantry assaults on the camp also but lost a lot of people, as the only good approaches are from the two saddles between the mountains, the one at the front of the camp and a much more difficult one from the rear of the camp. The sides of the plateau are too steep for a good assault, but they have tried sneaking sappers up them in the past - not very successfully, I might add,” he finished with a chuckle.

“There is also supposed to be a base camp area near here, Area 609 for the 66th NVA Regiment and other units. If it’s here, it’s very well hidden and they keep an awfully low profile, as out patrols have seen nothing of them. The local people know this area very well and we would have spotted them by now if they were here,” the Captain finished. “Any questions?”

“Yes, sir. What am I expected to do here. I know about running the radio but what else?” I asked.

“Well,” he started to say, but we were interrupted by SFC Meadows.

“Excuse me, sir. I thought you would want to know about this. I’ve been in touch with a number of the other camps. They saw the explosion last night and were wondering if we were still here. They thought that the NVA had gotten us. I assured them all that we were OK,” Meadows finished.

“All right, how far away were these contacts?” Captain Warren asked.

“Dak To was probably the furthest one.”

“That really must have been some explosion then,” the Captain stated, and added, “Last night was rather unusual, Baker. Don’t judge things by last night. We all live in bunkers for a reason. That reason is the daily heavy mortar attack that we get.

“Also, we don’t get a lot of support out here. Sometimes we get aerial support from the Thai Air Force at Stung Treng, and if we report really juicy targets on the trail we can get U.S. Air Force support out of Korat. We have even gotten South Vietnamese Air Force support out of Pleiku on occasion, if they slipped in to the south,” the Captain told me ending the briefing. I was no wiser than I had been before on what duties I would have here.

I went back to commo and worked on the radio until lunch and then ate hurriedly and returned to relieve Meadows for lunch. Nothing of importance came over the radios until late in the afternoon. I had ‘the Radio’ all hooked up and tested by then and was ready to operate.

“Golden Badger, Golden Badger, this is Golden Badger 5, over” came out of one of the PRC-25s about 1530 hrs. Meadows and I were both in the main commo bunker at the time discussing radios and procedures.

“Golden Badger 5, this is Golden Badger 3 X-ray, over,” Meadows transmitted.

“Badger 3 X-ray, this is five. Is Badger 6 available?”

“Badger 5 this is Badger 3 X-ray. I’ll have to get him. Wait one,” Meadows transmitted and the turned to me. “Go get the old man,” he instructed.

I returned a couple of minutes later with Captain Warren

“The LT is on the horn, sir. Wants to talk to you,” Meadows told the skipper and handed him the mike.

“Golden Badger 5 this is Golden Badger 6 - go.”

“Badger 6 this is five. We’re at the site now. You wouldn’t believe the mess here. We can see the camp from here with binoculars. We’re about three plus miles as the crow flies from you. They were set up on the back side of the ridge just below the crest and there is a nice hole where they were.

“There is a much bigger hole further down the backside of the ridge. It looks like they had some kind of supply base here. It’s all gone now though. We’re taking pictures and measurements, and will move out of here soonest, but don’t expect us to be back until noon tomorrow, over.”

“Roger, Badger 5. Keep in touch. We’ll see you tomorrow. Badger 6 out.”

“Well,” the Captain said after a few seconds, “that may be why they saw the explosion in Dak To. Apparently most of it was on the back side of the ridge.”

“We’re going to be short handed again tonight, Captain,” Sawyer said. He had been listening from the bunker entrance, as it was crowded with three people in there along with the equipment.

“Yes,” the skipper answered, “we’ll need to spread the remaining people out some. Beef up the front and rear gates at the expense of the sides. If they can come up those steep embankments, they have gotten a lot better. We’ll also need to have more of our people out to supervise, too.”

“You think they’ll attack tonight?” Sawyer asked.

“Not likely, but you never know with the NVA. With their support gone, I doubt it but it’s best to be prepared,” the Captain answered.

Later at dinner, Sawyer handed out the assignments. I got to stay in the main commo bunker, as Meadows was needed out on the perimeter. I was beginning to feel left out.

After dinner, we all went to our assigned locations. It was dark but the moon rose around 2030 hrs. and cast shadows from everything. It had been really quiet all evening. No mortars, no thunder and no attack - yet. The generator was off and only the glow of a very few cooking fires could still be seen inside the camp. Meadows came by the commo bunker to check on things.

“This waiting is worse that the mortar attacks were,” he told me. Sawyer came over while he was there.

“You need to send your regular 2100 hrs. report,” he told Meadows. “Are you ready to try the new radio, Baker?” he asked me.

“Yes. I just need to know what frequency to use for voice,” I told him.

“I’ll need to see what frequency they want to use for voice,” Meadows said.

Shortly before 2100 hrs. the generator was started and Meadows turned on the GRC-109 to warm it up once the generator had warmed up and stabilized. He sent the regular report and then asked for a voice frequency. Shortly, he was laughing as he wrote out their reply.

“They think I’m crazy,” he told us, “but they did send me a frequency and call sign,” he added and handed me the piece of paper with the FM frequency and a call sign written on it. I set the frequency on the transmitter and receiver and fired the rig up. Meadows had turned the GRC-109 off, and Sawyer had gone to get the Captain.

“Tasty Rabbit, Tasty Rabbit, this is Golden Badger 3 Zulu, over,” I transmitted.

“Golden Badger 3 Zulu, this is Tasty Rabbit. How do you read me, over?” I looked at the S-meter while he was coming in and then answered.

“Tasty Rabbit, this is Golden Badger 3 Zulu. I read you 4 by 4. How me, over.”

“Golden Badger 3 Zulu this is Tasty Rabbit. I read you 5 by 5, over.” The Captain had come in by now and I handed him the mike.

“Tasty Rabbit this is Golden Badger 6. Is Tasty Rabbit 3 or 3 November available, over?”

“Golden Badger 6 this is Tasty Rabbit, wait one.” Shortly another voice came on the air.

“Golden Badger 6 this is Tasty Rabbit 3. What do you have, over?”

“Rabbit 3 this is Badger 6,” the CO started and gave the preliminary report on what had happened and what we knew so far about the explosion last night and when we would hopefully have more information.

“Roger, Badger 6. Keep us informed. By the by, how did you manage this anyway, over?” Rabbit 3 asked.

“Rabbit 3, I got a new radio operator. He came with his own radio, over,” the CO told him.

“Badger 6 this is Rabbit 3. We could use one, also. Let us know if you find another one. This is Tasty Rabbit 3, out.”

“Damn,” the CO said after passing the mike back to me, “that’s a lot better than sending all of that in code.”

 
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