By Ken Smits
“We’ve got an interesting one this time, guys.” Sergeant Billings’s face is filled with trepidation.
We gather around the picnic table behind the barracks as Billings pulls out a small notebook. I look at my watch; it’s 0700 hours.
“Heavy enemy contact was made ten kilometers from our operation area,” he goes on. “Intelligence reports divisional-size NVA activity. Gentlemen, this could be a bad one. Enemy contact is possible. There are no friendly forces in the immediate area. Three companies of ARVN and four companies of Korean soldiers are engaged in heavy fighting with enemy units near Binh Khe Pass.”
We are further informed that an American Cavalry Battalion is being airlifted to support the ARVN units that are pinned down and taking heavy casualties. An additional American Armored Battalion is moving up Highway 19 to support the battle. Two companies of American Airborne units are being held in reserve to support our operation or the battle at Ninh Khe Pass.
As for fire support, we have both field artillery and air available, but only on priority mission. All available fire support is engaged in the skirmish near the pass.
“The mission is to find and destroy a USAF OV-10A Bronco aircraft that was shot down early this morning. We’re to blow the plane in place; location 773891.
“Execution: Smitty, you’ll blow the aircraft and equipment on board with comp C-4 and electrical delay fuse. Clint, your boys will provide perimeter defense at the site. You’ll also provide point and rear-guard during movement and at danger areas. Primary route Yellow, alternate route Red.”
Ration lists, signals, and radio call signs are given, but Billings appears nervous as he completes the orders. He seems to be struggling to appear relaxed. I wonder if he’s not telling us something.
The USAF Kaman HH-43 Huskie helicopters descend out of the clear blue sky, dropping A-Team off one element at a time. The LZ is a small clearing large enough for one chopper to land.
The security element disembarks first to set up a protective perimeter at the landing zone. Within seconds, the demo element exits their slick. As the wap-wap-wapping of the Huskie’s rotors drift away, the team’s already moving south along Route Yellow.
Tex takes point, followed by Loverboy, then me. The demo element is next, trailed by the rear guard of Worm, Stoney, and Frenchie.
As the sound of the choppers fades away the exploding sound of bombs, rockets, and mortars can be heard off in the distance reminding me of thunder. The team of eleven men moves carefully and quietly along the trail. The foot path follows the course of the river through the long winding valley.
The jungle is too quiet and still. I pass the word through the use of hand signals to stay alert. The tension builds inside my body, my heart rate increases, pounding in my chest. With the death of Willie less than a week ago, these strolls down jungle trails take on a new frightening dimension.
The team stays close together. The interval between each man is fifteen feet. Tex, the cowboy wannabe from Pawnee, Texas, looks out of his element as he walks point. His slow leisurely pace keeps the team moving cautiously along the trail.
He’d never been more than one hundred miles from his hometown prior to joining the Air Force. Now he leads A-Team through the jungle—a world away from Pawnee.
Being on point is the most nerve-racking duty. Looking for booby traps, you have more area to cover with your eyes, including the ground in front of you. Plus, there’s always a chance that if we run into the enemy, you’ll be the first to see them. Or they’ll be the first to see you, which can mess up your whole day.
Out of nowhere, the silence is broken. Hell has come to this trail in South Vietnam.
To be continued…..
