After Hue, Hotel Company went back to patrolling near An Hoa. A large enemy unit had been spotted near the fire base. Hotel Company would try to find the enemy and engage them in battle. Mac had just finished his meal of C rations, instant coffee, cheese, and crackers when the first wave of helicopters landed.
Mac was an infantry squad leader now. He had fought in Hue and survived. There was no information on the landing zone, so the marines assumed it would be hot. Mac and his men filed onto the choppers and sat down. Knots formed in their stomachs. Mouths were dry. Men avoided making eye contact because they were afraid and didn’t want the other men to know. The birds lifted off and it was quiet except for the thumping of rotor blades. Each man was alone with his thoughts.
After forty minutes in the air, the choppers began their descent. The marines braced for the bullets that might come ripping through the hulls of the helicopters. The choppers touched down, and the ramp door came down. Men jumped to their feet and ran down the ramp into the landing zone. Mac burst out of the chopper, and his legs were churning into the sunlight. He relaxed a little when he realized there was no incoming enemy fire. A hasty perimeter was set up around the helicopters until they left. Then the company formed up in a column and moved out.
As he walked, Mac thought about his new radioman, Jimmy. He was a good-looking kid from New York, with black hair and dark eyes. Jimmy was nineteen years old and new to the squad but had already proven himself to be a very adept radioman. Mac had a bad feeling about this kid. For some reason he sensed Jimmy was not going to make it. There was no way Mac could predict who would live and who would die, but he had this feeling. Got to keep an eye on that kid, Mac said to himself. He was also thinking about Bleachman, who was short. Bleachman was due to go home soon, and he was getting sloppy. That was dangerous. Bleachman was from South Philadelphia. He was a homely man with a pockmarked face and stringy hair, but he had been a good marine and squad leader.
Hotel Company patrolled through the villages and rice paddies all morning with no enemy contact. The captain called for a rest break. Marines spread out and opened canteens and cigarettes. Mac noticed a young-looking marine from another platoon wandering around. He told the kid to get back to his squad. There could be booby traps. The company moved out. There was an explosion. Mac moved up the column and found the boy he had just been talking with. The kid was lying on his back, hands over his face. He had stepped off the trail and grabbed a vine running up the bank. The vine was booby-trapped, and the blast hit the boy in the face. Mac got to the kid first. He knelt down and cradled the boy’s head in his arm. The boy was coughing blood and trying to speak, but too much of his face was gone.
“Medic! Corpsman, up! Corpsman, up!”
It was too late. The young marine convulsed and died. A helicopter came and took away the body. Hotel Company moved out.
About an hour later, someone spotted enemy soldiers running across a clearing. The captain decided to sweep through the area with a platoon on-line, followed by the rest of the company in column. Second Platoon would be the platoon on-line. Mac’s Second Squad would be on the right, with First and Third squads on his left. The platoon would be sweeping through tall elephant grass, across open ground, through a tree line, and into a village. It was a great place for an ambush, and Mac knew it.
“What do you think, Bleachman?”
“I don’t like it, Mac; it feels like a trap.”
“Mac, I see enemy movement to our right front,” Jimmy said.
“Get the lieutenant on the horn,” Mac said.
“Hotel Two, Hotel Two, this is Two Bravo, over,” Jimmy barked into the handset.
Jimmy handed Mac the handset.
“Hotel Two, be advised I have enemy activity on my right front, over.”
“Understand, Mac, move forward, over.”
Mac realized he was in serious trouble. The lieutenant and the skipper both knew it looked like a trap and they were going to march the men into it anyway. Damn officers, Mac thought. We’re going to get hurt bad if we do this. The platoon moved out of the elephant grass and into the open.
Mac looked at Bleachman and was about to say something when Bleachman’s head exploded. A machine-gun bullet ripped through the top of his skull, splattering pieces of bone, brain tissue, and blood on Mac’s face and flak jacket. Bleachman was lying on his face. Mac knelt down to feel for a pulse and looked over at Jimmy. He was about to tell Jimmy that Bleachman was dead when he saw Jimmy take a bullet in the forehead. Jimmy was dead.
At that moment, Mac knew he was going to die. He was surprised, because he wasn’t afraid. He just felt tired and angry that he was about to die in some dirt field at the age of eighteen. Mac gave the order to pull back and started dragging Bleachman’s body to a small ditch just inside the elephant grass. The enemy was using mortars now, in addition to the small-arms and machine-gun fire. Mac knew his situation was not good. He had two dead and two seriously wounded out of seven. First and Third squads were taking heavy fire also. Mac knew the enemy soldiers would be trying to flank his position and come through the elephant grass. He organized his men in a small defensive perimeter and borrowed a machine gun from one of the wounded. Mac fired the gun into the tree line to his front and into the elephant grass on his right. A bullet whizzed past his ear, close. Mac turned and saw the enemy soldier running through the grass, firing as he came. Mac squeezed off a quick burst of machine-gun fire, shooting from the hip. The burst hit the enemy soldier in the chest and knocked him over backward. Mac was firing the rest of his machine-gun ammo when the mortar landed beside him. The concussion picked him up and slammed him to the ground. There was a roaring in his ears, but the shrapnel had missed. Mac located a grenade launcher and started lobbing grenades at the enemy. A second enemy soldier came running through the grass. Mac hit him with a grenade, and the soldier’s body flew apart. Mac picked up a rifle with a bayonet attached and started through the elephant grass. He met an enemy soldier and tried to fire his weapon. The rifle jammed. Mac lunged at the enemy with his bayonet. The blade sliced through the soldier’s shirt and into his belly. The enemy looked stunned, then scared, then in agony as the bayonet plunged deeper into his guts. Mac tried to pull the bayonet free, but it would not budge. He cleared the piece and fired a round, freeing the bayonet.
Mac returned to his squad. The fighting died down and the enemy withdrew as darkness fell.