Chapter 11

It was nearly sundown when I heard the commotion coming from the front gate and went out to see what it was. The three Chiefs had returned with the holy man. He was an older man dressed as a Buddhist monk, but his rob was very faded and worn, and he seemed very agitated about something, as they came through the front gate.

“What’s up?” I asked Tweed, as I walked up to him.

“Don’t know yet. The old guy seems really upset,” Tweed said, as one of the interpreters came toward us.

“What’s wrong?” Tweed asked him.

“Holy man, he verly upset. He asked why he brought all this way when we have someone here already who could conduct ceremony. Men no understand and get upset.”

“He isn’t upset about coming into the camp, is he?” Tweed asked.

“No, it not that,” the interpreter said.

“All right, what’s going on here?” the CO demanded, as he came up to us.

“The holy man is upset,” Tweed answered.

“And?” the CO asked.

“Don’t know,” Tweed replied, as we were joined by Lieutenant Tamusarit.

Shortly the Platoon Leaders brought the holy man over to introduce him to us. He bowed and waited, and spoke to Lt. Tamusarit in Thai.

“This is Ajaan Bua,” the Lieutenant told us, “he is a monk of the Kammatthana, or Thai Forest Tradition. He wanders and meditates in the forest seeking enlightenment. He has been in this area for several years now staying in various locations.

“He agreed to come with the Chiefs to perform a ceremony of cleansing and thanks. Yet as he neared the front gate, he sensed the presence of another holy person, and demanded to know why the three Chiefs had requested him to come here when there was already one here who could perform the requested ceremony. The chiefs have no idea who he means and neither do I,” the Lieutenant finished.

As he finished speaking, Suenee and Sophie approached us. The old Monk’s face instantly lit up. He waied and bowed to Suenee, who returned it, and he began speaking rapidly to her in Thai for several minutes. Suenee blushed big time.

“The reverend Monk pays me too high a complement by addressing me as a holy woman. I have assured him that I am but a humble servant of the Amulets, and not a holy person. He insists, however, that I assist him when he conducts the ceremony tomorrow. He will lead the men and I the women at the ceremony. Until then he will rest, as it was a long trip.

“Would he like something to eat?” the CO asked.

Suenee spoke to the Monk again and then turned to us.

“No, he has eaten for today, but he thanks you for the offer. Some cool water would be nice, or perhaps some fruit juice, as it was a long trip,” she informed us.

“Yes, certainly,” the Captain answered. “Come to the mess hall. I’m sure that we have several kinds of fruit juice in the refrigerator.” They all left for the mess hall, but Suenee stayed with me, and we returned to commo.

“So, are you really a holy woman?” I asked, not knowing what to expect as an answer.

“No, I don’t feel like a holy woman. It wasn’t me that he sensed. It was the presence of the Amulets here with me. I am just their humble servant,” she whispered. After dinner we sat on top of the commo bunker while the sun went down and darkness crept over the plateau. There was no mortar attack again that night.

The contact with the B Detachment that night was very short, as neither party had much to say, and I closed down commo after that for the night.

Imagine my surprise on returning to our bunker, to find Suenee and the holy man, Ajaan Bua, sitting on the floor four feet apart facing each other with lit candles on either side of both of them. They were in what, I was quietly informed by Lt. Tamusarit, was the lotus position and were meditating.

I guess our whispered conversation at the entrance disturbed them, or perhaps they were finished. At any rate, they soon rose, and Ajaan Bua bowed and waied to me. I quickly returned his greeting.

“Bill, venerable Bua has been teaching me meditation techniques for the last little while,” a very enthusiastic Suenee informed me, as she came over and gave me a little kiss on the cheek.

“I believe that I can leave now,” Lt. Tamusarit informed us. “It has been a very instructive time, and I even managed to read some more of this history of Thailand and the Amulets.” He was holding up the old book that his uncle, the Thai Special Forces Colonel, had given him.

The Lieutenant obviously saw the confusion on my face then, because he explained further.

“Monks are not allowed to be alone in a room with a woman. It is a very strictly enforced prohibition. With you here now, I am no longer needed.”

After the Lieutenant had departed, Suenee explained what else was to happen that night.

“Venerable Bua will be spending the night here, Bill. We will be unable to do anything tonight. I will make it up to you tomorrow,” she whispered, and then blushed big time.

“Where will he sleep?” I asked, startled and looking around the bunker.

“He said that the ground here is very soft compared to the rock floor of his cave,” Suenee told me.

“We have the third air mattress,” I volunteered, “he could use that.”

“Yes, but let me check with him first,” Suenee said, as I pulled the extra air mattress out of its resting place, while Suenee spoke to the monk.

“He says that he has never tried one, but will see what it is like,” Suenee told me.

I put the air mattress on the floor, and demonstrated how to use it. He sat down on it for a short time, and smiled over at us. We were sitting on the floor at the time, as Buddhist tradition insists that our heads not be higher than the monk’s. Following that he said something to Suenee and rose from the air mattress and appeared ready to leave.

“Where is he going?” I asked.

“Outside,” Suenee replied. “He doesn’t sleep inside, even when staying at a Wat. He sleeps on the porch there. He has assured me that he will be perfectly fine,”

“Well, OK,” I said, not sure at all that it was OK. Following that, we got ready for bed. Suenee kissed me some before we retired to our individual cots, but that was all that we did that night.

“Rise and shine in there, Baker,” I heard the next morning. “Say do you know that you have a holy man sleeping on top of your bunker?” Sgt. Ingles asked.

“Yes, he doesn’t sleep inside,” I answered.

“Better him than me,” Ingles said. “I like my creature comforts, like walls and a roof.”

We were all soon up and went to wash our faces and brush our teeth, not to mention a pit stop.

A number of the local women came by with offerings of food for Ajaan Bua after we returned to the bunker. He gratefully accepted them, and said that he would eat there, as apparently being inside the mess hall made him uncomfortable.

Sawyer had an announcement this morning at breakfast.

“Listen up,” he started, as we ate. “To allow all of the local men to attend the ceremony and participate in it, all U.S. personnel will be on guard duty in the towers and at the gates just prior to, during, and just after the ceremony. There is a roster with your assigned position on the bulletin board. Be sure to check it before you leave.”

“Where will you be, Bill?” Suenee asked shortly.

I checked the roster and found that I was on the north tower at the rear gate and let Suenee know.

I know that this may sound silly with all of the things that were going on that morning, but I was off duty. I wasn’t scheduled to take over in commo until the afternoon. Consequently, I was kicked back in the shade of my bunker watching all of the preparations for the ceremony that were goings on that morning.

Suenee was off organizing the women for the ceremony. There was much cooking and cleaning going on in and around the perimeter bunkers. There were a group of village chiefs gathered to shave the head of Ajaan Bua. Monks traditionally have shaved heads and it had been a while since he had his shaved, and he had some stubble when he arrived here.

It was quite a surprise then when Hadley ran up to me slightly out of breath.

“There’s a chopper on the way in, and he’s asking for you specifically,” he stated.

“ME?” I asked, startled.

“Yes, grab your shit and come on.” I got my ruck and weapon, and hurried over to commo.

“What’s up?” I asked Meadows, as I came in.

“TSF has a chopper on the way in, and the pilot asked specifically for you,” Meadows said, and handed me the mike. “His call sign is Air Cobra 17.”

“Air Cobra 17, this is Golden Badger 3 Zulu. Over.”

“Badger 3 Zulu, this is Cobra 17. We have a special delivery for Lieutenant Tamusarit, but we will not be landing. I repeat, we will not be landing. I need you to pop smoke on your perimeter, so I can judge the wind direction. Then I want you to guide me in over the cleared area behind your front gate. We will winch down the special delivery while I hover. Can you do this? Over.”

“Cobra 17, Badger 3 Zulu. Roger. I understand. When you are ready, I will pop smoke and guide you into the cleared area behind the front gate. Give me zero five to clear the area. Over.”

“Roger, Badger 3 Zulu. I will be in position to make my approach in zero five. I will advise then, wait.”

I left my ruck and weapon in commo, grabbed a smoke grenade, the PRC-25, and my flags, and headed out to the front gate. Hadley was waiting for me outside of commo.

“We need to get the area behind the front gate cleared. They are going to bring that chopper in there,” I told Hadley and Sawyer, as he joined us.

For the next couple of minutes we were very busy, as we cleared the area between the bunkers and the front gate. It was a large clear area, where they usually held formations, inspections, guard mount, and where patrols formed up before moving out.

I was busy trying to judge the wind direction by looking at the flags (Thai and American) when Tweed ran up.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Chopper coming in. I need you to pop smoke over by the perimeter bunkers when I signal,” I told him, and handed him the smoke grenade. The wind was very calm at present, as the flags were just hanging down, and Tweed had already gone over to the north perimeter.

“Air Cobra 17, this is Golden Badger 3 Zulu. We are prepared for your approach. Over.”

“Badger 3 Zulu, this is Cobra 17. I am on final approach, and will be over your location in zero one. Pop smoke.” I signaled Tweed, and he popped the smoke.

“Badger 3 Zulu, I identify red smoke. Over.”

“Roger, Cobra 17. Red smoke. I am on the far side of the compound from the smoke, and will guide you in. Over.”

“Roger, Badger 3 Zulu.”

As the chopper came in I could see that it was a CH-34 with TSF markings, but I wasn’t sure if it was the same one as previously, since it was rigged for rescue work with a beam out the door and a winch. As I guided him in, the chopper came to a hover in the center of the cleared area about twenty feet above the ground.

There was dust and grit flying all over the place from his downdraft, as they started lowering a good-sized crate to the ground. As it touched down the chopper rose some, but then released more cable and the crate settled back down. Ingles hurried in and released the cable from the sling attached to the crate, and the chopper rose again, relieved of the weight.

“Badger 3 Zulu, this is Cobra 17. We’re out of here. It’s been a pleasure to serve you. Out.” The chopper was rising to flight altitude, as the pilot spoke, and was gone in no time.

Meanwhile, there was great excitement on the ground. With the chopper gone, the dust and debris quickly settled, and we all went to inspect the delivery.

Lieutenant Tamusarit was already talking with several of the Platoon Leaders when I got there. To my surprise, the crate contained a pig - a large 400-pound, or so, pig. There were several large bags of rice on top of the crate along with baskets of vegetables, and a package wrapped in paper. The CO got there just as I did.

“All right, what is all of this?” he asked in wonder.

“I contacted Thai Special Forces last night and requested an offering and rice for the ceremony today. It isn’t an unusual request in our Army,” the Lieutenant explained.