Thank you,It is from actual experience.
Action Adventure / A Hard Place by Jacamo Peterson
The plan called for five of us, (Myself, George, More, Harold Sessions, Dana Ford and Rico Rodriguez) to depart at 0400 tomorrow from the Rosemary’s Point helipad on a Huey slick from 122nd Avn. We will fly out to the drop point, about an hour away, which will put us on the ground about 8 clicks from the objective. We will then have two days and nights to move up, observe and execute the operation, leaving one day for making it to one of three selected pick up points.
I go around the platoon area to let everyone know what is coming down. Sgt Lott is to be in charge of the platoon in the interim. I had a meeting with the four others going on the OP. Everyone is to gear up for four days in the bush, just in case. We went over what we were going to do, received the maps and then each set about getting his gear and weapons ready, packing our rucksacks for four days, drawing ammo and grenades, all the “normal” stuff.
I hit my rack about 2030 and set my alarm for 0230. I actually sleep pretty good for once. When my alarm goes off I am immediately awake. I get dressed and go to the Mess Hall for early chow, to the usual stares and comments from the cooks. We cordially invite them to come along but they all decline.
At 0330 or O-dark-thirty as it is commonly referred to, we load our gear and ourselves into a waiting ¾ ton for the ten minute ride to the helipad. While waiting for the chopper to fire up we put on our war paint, smoke the last Camel for a while and check weapons and gear.
The Pilots and Ground Crew finish their preflight checks, start the engine and wave us on board. We have flown with both of the pilots and the crew/door gunner before and they still look at us and shake their heads, “like just what are you idiots up to now?”
0400, exactly by my watch, we lift off in the cool morning air to the popping of Huey blades and the smell of JP-4 aviation fuel. All of us are looking at each other wondering if this is our final flight to the beasts lair.
As we climb out of Chu-Lai, the south China Sea is sparkling in the East, but the bird turns West into the predawn darkness. It is a smooth flight. No one is talking. We are up pretty high for a while, half an hour later dawn in beginning behind us and the pilot descends down to about 300 feet or so. He is working around some hills then all of the sudden it’s full light and all the details on the ground can be seen. Five minutes later we are crossing a long open field at about fifty feet. So far so good, no movement, no ground fire, just before the tree line at the end of the filed, up close to the trees, the pilot cuts the speed. The ship “flares” sort of tail down to about six feet from the ground. We throw out our rucks and step off the skids for the drop to the ground.
As we hit the ground, the chopper is already pulling up and away to the left, and then he’s gone over the tree tops. We are already moving into the tree line scanning all around us. Still it is all quiet. We take a moment to check our weapons, hoist up our rucks. I do a quick compass check and we move off in to the trees at a trot for a couple hundred yards. Then we go to ground and listen. The chopper can no longer be heard. After a couple of minutes in which we hear nothing and sense no movement we move out to the West. We are moving at a good pace using brush and under growth as much as possible, crossing three good sized trails running North/South and a small stream. We cover three Ks in under two hours. Halting then, to get our bearings on the map, we make our first commo check on the hour to let the rear know we at least are this far without being spotted.
After a good twenty minute break, neither hearing, seeing or sensing any human activity at all we move out again. This time moving at a slower, much more careful pace. Again using as much cover and concealment as possible, even detouring around a couple of large open areas. We still have close to 12 hours until full dark. We only have about 5 Ks to go until we are “danger close”.
We fully expect to begin sighting both civilian and combat personnel before late afternoon. This area is both Viet Cong and N.V.A. territory and has been for a long time. This goes back to the days in the early 50’s when the French were here, only then Charlie was called “Viet Minh”.
At noon we go to ground in a large thicket. This time though, we have only covered another 2 Ks in a straight line, but we have been over, around, under and through. I assure you this distance is a lot further than it shows on the map.
Lunch for me today is my usual bush meal, 2 cans of C-Rat (Ham & Eggs chopped, 1 can of cheese and crackers, a C-Rat Coconut “hockey puck” candy bar and half a canteen of water. We all take our daily “malaria pill” which we know full well is actually a stool softener, which is good because this is a bad place to be anally retentive.
We are well hidden and even manage to relax a doze a bit. In an hour we are up again. We try to hide all traces of being here or even our passing.
Moving again, this time even more careful, we are within 3 Ks of the first village. We haven’t covered more than a couple hundred yards when we hear the first human sounds. Muffled but recognizable are the sounds of motor scooters and cyclo-carts (sort of a cargo trike). Moving up another 40 yards we spy a hard-pack dirt road, about 12-14” wide. There is traffic including bicycles, motor bikes, carts, water buffalo and people walking (normal traffic not heavy).
The road is damn near invisible unless you are right on top of it, even from the air. It’s big enough for trucks or even tanks, if they had any! Only a few civilian types carrying guns, a couple of Chicom SKSs, a Russian Moisen-Nagant bolt rifle, and one US 30 carbine.
There is just enough traffic on the road to make it too dangerous to cross right now. There will be a lull in the traffic around 3 or 4 o’clock and then later at night runs of equipment and supplies coming down off the Ho Chi Minh trail will begin. The civilians will be long gone before that starts.
We move into a thick brush area on a small raise about 100 meters from the road. The area in front of the rise and down to the road is pretty much grass, dirt patches and small scrub, so we have a good view. We just hunker down and wait taking turns nodding off for an hour or so.
By 1600 the traffic is way down and at 1700 there is none. We wait another half hour for any stragglers, and sure enough there are a few. The last one is an old bow legged man walking a bicycle with at least a 200 pound pig, on its back with it’s legs sticking up, tied to it. What’s more the pig is alive!
Fifteen minutes later we move down next to the road where the brush is the thickest. Seeing no movement in any direction we cross the road one at a time. If anything the brush is thicker on the other side. Moving slow and quiet, single file with Chico on point, Harold is next with the M-60, then me. George is behind me and Dana is riding drag.
We are really in Charlie’s back yard now, literally. These three small villages are in a small triangle situated East, West, and North. They are just about equally a little less than 2 Ks apart. This is heavily traveled area with 3 roads coming in one from the North, one from the West and one from the South. Lots of Charlie’s supplies from the North arrive in this area and are then broken down and transshipped on south into the central highlands.
If we were to get caught out here, we would die very hard. If we get caught out here trying to snatch one of their honcho’s we would die even harder. We are aware of that, and try not to think of the possibilities. A modicum of fear produces caution. Living in total fear profits a man nothing. The skein of our lives was woven by the all-father long ago. Hide in a hole if you will. You will not live a moment longer. Run from your fate if you will, you will only die tired.
It’s still light out so we are moving very cautiously. So far nothing, it’s a little spooky, it’s like most of this area is empty. It’s hot and fairly still, off in the distance a fuck-you lizard is up in a tree sounding out his call. A few small birds are flittering about in the bushes.
Chico is frequently checking his compass. We are moving South of the two bottom villages in the triangle, trying to reach a central position and then move up into the middle of the triangle, provided there’s not a couple hundred N.V.A soldiers camped in there.
Now we are beginning to see lots of sign, trail paths, foot prints, tire marks, broken down bushes and plants. We are about half a mile south of the first village. It’s light but beginning to feel like evening. We can smell the village now, like a barn yard and charcoal burning. In the distance some kind of motor is running. Except for on the main road we have seen no live people, a little odd.
Half an hour later, light is now beginning to fade. We make our turn to the North to get up inside the triangle, moving on into the area as it gets dark. There are paths and trails going in every direction, some narrow, some wide with small patches of thick brush and trees between them. Three times we have to go to ground as people are moving through the area going from one village to another. This inner area is obviously deemed as “safe” because the people are moving about with a normal air and talking and laughing.
Intel has determined that our target is most likely staying in the largest house in the western village, a place called Cau-Ahn. By 2000 hrs we are 200 meters north east of the village, in the brush, watching. They have no electricity, all the lights come from lanterns, flashlights, or the headlight on a motor bike.
The house in the center does have guards by the front door. There aren’t more than 20 houses and buildings in the place. There are quite a number of armed military moving about and a couple of small groups on porches playing cards and smoking by lantern light, some drinking beer.
There are basically two rows of houses facing each other across a hard pack street about 30 feet wide. We are looking down the street. There are a number of bicycles and motor bikes, sort of like horses at the hitching rail in old Tombstone. At the far end of the street, about 250 yards straight in front of us, behind the houses there are smaller sheds or animal pens, and storage buildings. There are a number of cargo trucks and a couple of jeeps parked in between and behind buildings.
Beyond the large house there are two storage buildings and a few more trucks. The only movement in the area is the village. They don’t even have any guards posted, except the two posted in front of the “big house” which is only a one story, just a little larger than the others.
We move 50 yards closer for a better view. The whole area only covers about 10 acres of land. Just as we get into position there is some activity in front of the “big house”. A number of men come out of the front door and are taking turns saluting and half bowing to a fellow dressed in Khaki’s, bloused boots and a pistol belt with a side arm, no hat and he is smoking a cigar. Obviously he is the ‘boss’ and most likely the guy we want.
After paying their respects and smiling and bowing they all move off toward other houses. Our guy is left standing on the porch, smoking his cigar and looking right at us, and of course we are looking right back but he can’t see us. Since we have no pictures of this guy we are assuming this is him. If not, well we will apologize later.
After conferring a bit on how to proceed, I decide to try and drive him towards us. George and Chico set out around the south end of the Village to place a couple of satchel charges up against the two storage buildings on the back side of the big house. We will move forward another 50 to 100 yards while they are doing this.
Hopefully when the charges blow they will try to get the “boss” out of harms way. Thinking they are being attacked from the west all of the good soldiers will head that way and the “boss” man will run this way.
A couple of minutes after George and Chico take off, we move forward to an unused dirt and sandbag gun position that will give us good cover and concealment. Figuring about 30 minutes for Chico and George to work around the village, get up to the buildings, set the charges and the get back to where we have moved to. It only takes us 10 minutes or so to move up to the gun position and get in it.
It’s still pretty hot from the heat of the day. A slight breeze coming from the west and we are all pretty much soaked with sweat. The salt from it stings the eyes. The adrenalin level is up now along with the acrid metallic taste of fear in the back of the throat. Even the smallest sounds seem to be amplified. Some of the enemy are now less than 50 meters from us. The moon is up, it’s a bright night. How in the hell can these guys not see us? They are in garrison mode, not even on yellow alert. There are no posted sentries.
We crouch down inside one of their own gun positions, watching, sweating, and just knowing that any second now something will give us away and then alarms will be sounded. Fifteen of the longest, hottest minutes of my life go by, very slowly. Finally off to our left I see George and Chico working their way back, moving from cover to cover to where we are.
Just as they both get to the backside of our position there is one bright hellacious explosion from behind the “big house” immediately followed by an even larger one. It is bright orange and hot, the fireball seems to engulf the whole damn place. We are all knocked down as the blast and heat rolls over us. I feel like someone kicked me in the chest. All I can hear is an extremely loud ringing, even after the initial heat wave is gone, and it is still very hot. My vision is blurred and I can’t seem to get up off the ground. A good 30 seconds passes before I realize the wall of the position has been blown in and there are sand bags on my legs. As I begin to get control of my faculties again and begin pulling myself up, there are secondary explosions going off in the village and bright flickering fire light.
I look around and all of us are at least moving. George and Chico are pushing sand bags off the rest of us. I am digging around for my weapon and my hat. After a minute or so Dana hands me my weapon and says “what the fuck was that?” He is right next to me, we are both on our knees in the rubble and he sounds like he is in the bottom of a well.
I flop down on the pile of sandbags looking into the village. The whole damn place is burning. There are a large number of non-moving bodies in the street. The “big house” and the two storage buildings are no more and the next four or five housed coming up the street are flattened. Only the last 3 or 4 are standing and all are on fire. There are only half a dozen people still up and moving and they are all running towards the north east, probably headed for the other village.
The air is hot and embers are falling all around us. Small explosions are going off in several downed buildings. “Far Fuck Out!” says George. “Those fucking hootches must have been packed full of explosives and fuel or something. Jesus, what a blast!” “Yeah mother fucker, if there had been just a little more in there, we would be some dead niggers” says Harold.
After checking ourselves out we find only a few cuts and bruises. Harold has the M-60 set up but there is no one to shoot at. I tell Dana to take charge and pull back the way we came about 50 meters to get out of this heat.
I’ve got to go in by the big house and see if I can verify whether or not the target is down. “I think you’re totally nuts” says Dana “nobody lived through that!” “Well I’ve got to check anyway. If I’m not back in 20 minutes take off and get back to the LZ.”
I still haven’t found my hat, so I leave my ruck, pick up my weapon and crouching over because of the heat I jog right down the middle of the street, jumping over and round dead bodies some are totally blackened. Others look like there is nothing wrong with them. The smell of burning human flesh is everywhere, a couple of times so thick that I am gagging on it. It’s a smell you never forget.
The closer I get to the “big house” the hotter the fires are. Just as I start to turn back because of the heat I feel the passing of a couple rounds and hear POP POP POP from a handgun coming from my right. I hit the ground rolling and from a prone position I fire about half a mag of 30 carbine at where the shots came from between two burning houses. I roll over two or three more times. I get to my hands and knees and crab crawl to the next space between houses toward my left.
The wind is picking up now, flames are starting to blow. It’s getting hotter by the minute. I scoot in between the two houses. It is so hot in this little alley way I just continue to run until I’m past the major flames. I hear the POP of the pistol a couple of more times, but right now I am more worried about real fire than gun fire. I duck to my right as I clear a small shed and run around a truck whose canvas has caught on fire from embers. A few more minutes and the whole truck will be burning.
I cut back to my right again at the rear of the truck. I run down the length of it and up beside a shed that is not burning, not yet anyway, past the shed and back between two of the houses that are burning but still standing. I start to clear the front side and hear the POP POP POP again from that pistol and the rounds are hitting close. Then I hear Harold open up with the M-60 off to my left and I know he is trying to give me cover fire.
Back between the two houses to the alley way, I hit the ground as I go around the corner to my left, the heat is now getting to be intense. I crawl about ten to fifteen yards down the alley to the back of the next house. I smell hair burning and realize the hair on my arms and my head are both being singed. The smoke is thick and lungs are burning, my vision is fucked up, I can hear the fire crackling and roaring really loud. I realize I have to get out of here right now. I get up to my hands and knees so I can try a crouching run between the two houses and into the middle of the street, turn left and I should be able to make it.
As I get up to a crouching position and start to turn another crouching figure runs out from between two vehicles. I’m raising my weapon to fire when behind him there is a secondary explosion and the debris hits him and knocks him down.
I see by the firelight that it is the guy in the Khaki’s and pistol belt from the “big house”. He has a Chicom 9mm Tokarev in his hand that was the popping I heard.
Change of plan. I run to where he has fallen in the alleyway behind the houses, grab him by his shirt front and hoist him up on my shoulder. He is out like a light, so I just run straight up the alleyway and out into the open where it is one hell of a lot cooler.
Holding my carbine with my left hand and a dink on my right shoulder I head to my right where my guys should be. Dana and George run out to help me while Harold and Chico cover us. There is no firing and a couple minutes later I’m in a good concealed position trying to catch my breath while Dana pours a canteen of water over my head and on some smoking parts of my uniform. The hair on my eyebrows and forearms is completely singed off.
Harold looks over at me, sniffs the air and says “smells like somebody scorched the laundry and somebody should take the pistol out of the dink’s hand before he wakes up!” Chico takes the pistol from our prisoner saying “thank you! Senor Dink. I needed a new pistola.” A search revealed only two extra mags for the Tokarav and a wad of money. The guy is out, breathing ok but he’s got one hell of a goose egg on the left side of his head. Quickly binding his hands and feet we are up and moving. Our prisoner only weighs 140 or so, so for now, we take turns carrying him for five minutes each and begin to unass the area moving as fast as we can.
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catluckey reviewed Version 2 -
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This 290 word review has not been unlocked.
jtthehunter reviewed Version 2 -
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Not bad. The flow was good, the content tight and the characters developed into beleivable characters. Overall, a good story and obviously as you stated, published.
However, there are some minor issues to address. In the story you have the characters carrying rucksacks ala ALCE packs. When they reach the LZ, they still have them yet when they reach the objective, there is no mention of them ever dropping them off at a cache or rally point. When the primary character enters the village to search for the target, he rolls when fired at. With a ruck on, thats near impossible to do especially if its a VN era ruck due to the metal frame which is commonly known as the ‘kidney killer’. Was he carrying an M16, CAR15 or some kind of carbine? He mentions a carbine but what is it? If this is written for a Vietnam era reader, that kind of info is essential to the story. Who was the grenadier on the team? Any kind of ‘over the fence’ op such as described would have included some mention of either taking it with them or leaving it behind. When the target is retrieved, how if he is knocked out by the nearby explosion is he able to retain a grip on his sidearm?
While this may seem like a nitpick, these are all issues that should be reviewed and addressed even if this is a fictional account. It would add more realism to what is already there.
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oneshot92 reviewed Version 2 -
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You had me sucked in from the very first word. Would like a little more description on the Characters though. Also would like a little more of the smells and sounds of the jungle. Other than that, amazing work. You took me back to a time in my life when friends were brothers and everyone else wanted to kill me.
MeGgiE reviewed Version 2 -
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Good start getting the reader right into the action. You’ve definitely given us great wartime visuals, and have set the pace for what’s to come. My only suggestion would be to give us a little more as far as the characters go. I know exactly where we are, what it looks like, smells like, feels like, but I’m a little hazy on the characters themselves. We get their names of course, and a sense of who they are through their speech, but it would be nice to have some more physical description. Of course I don’t mean just tall, short, blonde, brown eyes, etc. but mabe something that would personalize each man (like the fact that Chico’s constantly checking his compass). I know this will probably come about further on in the story, but it might hook the reader faster if there was just a little bit of a tease into why we should care about these men we’re going to go on a journey with. Anyway, that’s just my initial reaction, great job so far! I’m interested to see what happens next. :)
Reignman reviewed Version 2 -
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I’m not a fan of military procedings, but I do like how you threw the reader directly into the action through the eyes of the nameless narrator. The action, once it got started was furious and it even made me sweat a little. I’d read the rest of this, as it’s very well written.
doktorsarcasm reviewed Version 2 -
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I like this. It is written with from either experience or very good research, and the language you use accentuates the urgency of it. Very well done.
NikkiOneEve reviewed Version 2 -
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page 8 acrid metallic taste of fear seems off putting to much emphasis in the sentence maybe just saying the sure taste of fear was metallic.I know you said you didn’t need a english lesson but putting the story in a steady flow tense matters page 9 I feel like someone kicked me how about I felt like. Page 12 the smoke is thick and lungs are burning who’s lungs are burning?I am saying that the story has some substance but the few places you get off course and that can bring the whole story down.When the agent reads your first few pages if they have to think harder on what is meant or said they will trash the rest and send you a rejection letter. not that you are sending it for review you said it is on amazon but the war story has potential to be better possible revision on the book so it could be a number one seller.
draculachronicles reviewed Version 2 -
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I’m not sure of the point of the exercise here if it is already a published work, but I will give my opinion of what I read. I took on board what you said in your forenote so the use of jargon didn’t bother me although I thought there was a lot of it. But in the context of what the story is, it is appropriate.
You paint a good scene. I was able to develop a good picture of events in my mind. I enjoyed the build up and the action scene was good.
The only criticism I have is that I was unable to form any sort of a bond with any of the characters. There are no descriptions or any information describing the main players..just their names. In light of that I would wonder why you chose this piece from the book to use as an extract. But I enjoyed it regardless.
Shane O’Neill
BigMama reviewed Version 2 -
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I like the way you have written this story.
The action is well paced.
I love military stories, since I am a fan of all of the military branches.
The imagery alone, i could feel the humidity and the sweat. I don’t mind the language or whatever anyone has complain about. Because, even though have watched movies on these subject, nothing ever phases me.
Continued Success.
Deacon_Eddie reviewed Version 2 -
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Very well written. Good flow, kept me reading. I can see why you got picked up by Amazon. Great read.
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