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I was just a kid from a small town in southern New Jersey. My uncle was a Rabbi in Pittsburgh. Before his retirement, he and I took a 30-day trip to the holy land, Israel, with members of his congregation. At the time, I had a full ride to Rutgers
After serving in Vietnam, I worked at Edward’s Air Force Base. My friend and battle buddy, Doug, was living with us at the time. We decided one day to go to the local VFW. It was 1972 or 1973, as I recall. We walked into the building and sat down,
I hear rustling in the brush, I look over, and my eyes are locked with a giant serpent. I reach for my weapon but drop it into the muddy water. The snake’s huge head stops moving, but his forked tongue darts in and out. I slide slowly backward without taking
In 1968-1969 Vietnam, I was part of a MACV SOG Unit, a recon unit with missions “across the fence.” That was the term used to describe going across the border into North Vietnam and the countries of Laos and Cambodia. Areas where the U.S. Military was not supposed to be.
I watch the lone shadowy figure clad in black garments cross the third fence. He’s less than thirtyfive feet from our position. He has now entered our kill zone according to the guidelines from Control. “Waste him,” Sergeant Adams whispers. “What?” I flinch, turning towards him. “Why me?” I freeze, my mind suddenly blank. Sergeant Adam’s sarcastic whisper rings in my ears, “Cause it’s your turn, Newbee.”
As I stretch out under the shade of foliage, I hear branches slapping together across the river. The hair on the back of my neck stands up. I focus on the area and spot movement in a large chestnut tree just behind the banana plants. SNIPER! My heart leaps, and my pulse rate increases. I can hardly see him, but if he can see us, he can probably count the hairs in our noses with his scope. As I work to get a better view, I finally focus on the most giant monkey I have ever seen. He has a huge comical nose and wags his tail like a happy puppy. Thankfully, not a sniper.
We were assigned to Angola. We mainly went there to see what the Cuban fighters were like. The Cubans were fighting in Angola on the side of Angolian insurgents. We were sent over there to teach them ambushing and other tactics. The Lieutenant we were with said every day or so this tank would ride to the overlook, which was probably a thousand meters up, and fire two or three rounds into the village there, and then it would just back up and leave. So, we decided that would be our ambush training. We decided that is what we will do: we will ambush that tank.
We all get knocked to our knees, bottoms, and faces. We stagger up and attempt to crawl out and follow this thing out – we are the ‘Chase Team’ and we are supposed to “Chase the Bundle”. The bird makes another loop and below is this great big open field. Another 100 or so jump out behind us. Well, it didn’t work.
We all get knocked to our knees, bottoms, and faces. We stagger up and attempt to crawl out and follow this thing out – we are the ‘Chase Team’ and we are supposed to “Chase the Bundle”. The bird makes another loop and below is this great big open field. Another 100 or so jump out behind us. Well, it didn’t work.
We all get knocked to our knees, bottoms, and faces. We stagger up and attempt to crawl out and follow this thing out – we are the ‘Chase Team’ and we are supposed to “Chase the Bundle”. The bird makes another loop and below is this great big open field. Another 100 or so jump out behind us. Well, it didn’t work.
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