When it sounded like the barrage had lifted, the cries of wounded civilians and those in agonizing pain began in earnest. Just as Captain Long poked his head above the foxhole he had been hiding in, a slew of machine-gun fire overtook the screams of the wounded.
“The Chinese are attacking! Return fire!” yelled one of the sergeants maybe twenty meters in front of Long’s foxhole. To his right, maybe a hundred meters away, one of the M240s opened fire, spraying the jungle to their front with streams of hot lead. A loud explosion shook the air as one of their Claymore mines tore into the attackers.
Boom! Boom! Explosions rocked the machine-gun position seconds later, and the M240 went silent, replaced by the roaring yell of hundreds of voices running right at Long’s right flank.
“Holy crap! They're going to overrun us!” he thought as he heard the loud screams of the enemy charge.
“Shift fire to the right! Reinforce those positions now!” Long yelled over the company net. “The Chinese are trying to move around us!”
Another explosion rocked his right flank, and then he saw several RPGs fly past his soldiers’ position and hit a few trees further behind them. One exploded right in front of three Marines who were moving forward to shore up their defenses, killing them outright before they even knew what had happened.
Turning to the group of five Marines near him, Captain Long ordered, “Fix bayonets and follow me.”
The Marines collectively looked at each other, seeming to ask themselves if they’d really heard what they thought they had. Then their instincts and training took over, and they grabbed their bayonets, attaching the blades to the front of their M4 rifles.
Captain Long changed his magazine, placing a fresh thirty-round one in his rifle, and then lifted himself out of his fighting position. He dashed forward in the low ready position with his rifle aimed in front of him as he moved to reinforce his right flank, ready to shoot the first Chinese soldier he saw. Seconds after he left his position, the other five Marines got up and quickly followed him, lining up almost abreast of him as they advanced.
The chattering of both rifle fire and machine-gun fire was constant now as both sides threw more and more men at each other, trying to gain an advantage and fire supremacy. Another RPG flew over their heads, exploding somewhere behind them. The fighting zone in front of them was becoming hidden by the amount of smoke from grenades, RPGs, and Claymore mines going off. The smells of cordite, sulfur, and feces permeated the air.
Charging forward into the roar of gunfire and screaming men, a cloud of smoke wafted in front of Long’s men, temporarily obscuring their view. As they ran forward through it, they tripped and stumbled over the dead bodies of fallen Marines intertwined with dead enemy soldiers. Several Marines were rolling on the ground in a desperate hand-to-hand fight to the death. One Marine swung his entrenching tool wildly as he hit a Chinese soldier in the face repeatedly, either not realizing the man was dead or simply overcome by his emotions.
Long rang toward one of the Marines, who was being straddled by a Chinese paratrooper who was desperately trying to drive his knife into the Marine’s chest. In one smooth motion, Captain Long used the butt of his rifle to hit the enemy soldier under the chin, causing him to lose his balance and fall backward. As the man fell, Long lunged his bayonet into the man's abdomen. He pulled the bayonet out and thrust it into the soldier’s gut again, twisting the blade before he pulled it out this time. The enemy soldier went limp.
The Marine who had been on the ground fighting for his life grabbed his M4 and fired several rounds into a Chinese soldier who had charged at Long, nearly running his own bayonet through him. Just as Long went to say, “Thanks,” the Marine was shot in the cheek and the bullet summarily exploded out the other side of the man's face.
“Look out, Sir!” one of his Marines yelled. Long ducked just in time to place his shoulder into the chest of the man who was charging right at him. In that instant, he felt the man’s armor plate in his body armor and a twinge of pain in his own shoulder. He lifted up and backward with all of his might, throwing the enemy soldier over his shoulder to the ground below. Turning quickly to face him, Long fired several rounds into the man's upper body and face, killing him instantly.
“There’s more of them coming!” another one of his sergeants yelled as even more of enemy paratroopers burst through the jungle in front of them.
“My God, that’s a lot of Chinese soldiers,” he thought as he saw yet another wave charging forward with their guns ablaze.
One of the five Marines that had charged forward with him jumped into the blown-out fighting position that had the M240 in it. He leveled the gun at the storming soldiers and opened fire. In seconds, he raked nearly a hundred rounds across the charging horde, wiping out the attacking force. As Long moved toward the Marine to help him keep the gun going, an RPG flew out of the jungle, blowing up right in front of the machine gunner. His body was ripped in half from the explosion, and the force of the blast knocked Long to the ground with a hard thud.
Captain Long struggled to catch his breath after having the air punched out of him from the fall. He felt a strong pair of hands grab the back of his IBA and pull him hard backward, toward the rest of his men. While he was being dragged, Long saw several enemy soldiers charging after him. He took aim with his M4 and fired as quickly as his rifle would let him, gunning them all down. Then he crawled behind a tree and took aim at the enemy soldiers, who were still trying to press home the attack.
“We need to fall back, Sir. We can’t hold this position,” said one of his sergeants.
“Someone, get on the radio and tell Fourth Platoon to double-time it to our position now! Also, see if you can raise battalion and find out if we can get some fire support from the gun battery or the mortar platoon!” Long screamed to be heard over the relentless sounds of men and machine.
Minutes after placing the call, another twenty-six Marines rushed forward to join them against a cluster of now fallen over trees and other odds and ends they were using for protection. The added firepower appeared to be enough to cause the enemy to pull back, and the two sides settled into still firing at each other without actively trying to overrun each other.
Sergeant Gerald Phillips arrived at Fort Mag on one of the many CH-53 Super Stallions that had been delivering supplies to the base just prior to dark. His squadron of Super Cobras was going to rebase on Fort Mag so they would be closer to the actual fight, rather than having to waste fuel flying from the amphibious assault ships to support the ground pounders. The infantry was in near-constant contact and desperately needed the gunships.
When he arrived at the base, the first thing he noticed was how shot up the place was. There were several downed helicopters near the edge of the runway, along with numerous other enemy vehicles. A fair number of dead bodies were still strewn around the area, which further added to the macabre scene before him.
“Sergeant Phillips, get the tools and other equipment set up over near that section of the taxiway!” shouted his lieutenant.
Just then, a pair of Cobras settled onto the taxiway, shutting down their engines. Trudging toward the helicopters and the area where their platoon leader wanted them to set up as their repair section, Phillips saw the pilots climbing out of the helicopter.
“Sergeant!” exclaimed the pilot, waving him over. “I think my tail boom took a few hits on our last attack run. Can you guys check it over and make sure nothing major was hit while we get some food? We have to get back into the air as quickly as we can.”