Ninety minutes out from the jump, Sergeant Price roused the men from their slumber so they could begin to get their equipment ready. They all went over last-minute tasks and objectives for what felt like the hundredth time. Thirty minutes from the jump, the Rangers psyched themselves up for what should be an easy jump. Their past few jumps had been on hostile airfields that had been heavily protected, but the airborne gods appeared to be throwing them a bone with this one, or so they hoped.
Sergeant First Class Conrad Price walked the row, making sure his platoon of soldiers was ready for the jump, checking their equipment and also making sure the squad leaders were ready. The responsibility of his new position still weighed heavily on him. When their company had been pulled from the front lines in Taiwan back to the airfield, one of their trucks had hit a landmine, killing their first sergeant and his platoon sergeant in one fell swoop. It had been a devastating loss, especially since they had just been ordered to the rear. A few days later, Staff Sergeant Price found himself in the company commander’s office being told he’d been promoted and would be taking over the platoon, along with a handful of new replacements fresh from training.
A week later, their unit was sent back to the front to do some deep reconnaissance for the Allies as they continued to hunt down the remaining PLA forces on the island. After spending another month in the field, they were pulled from the line and officially sent to Indonesia.
The memories were all jolted out of his mind as the jump master yelled out, “Five minutes! Get ready!”
Price walked up to his spot in the line, making sure he’d be one of the first to jump. He felt it was his job to make sure he was one of the first guys in the platoon to hit the ground and figure things out. The platoon leader would be the last to jump, making sure everyone got out the door, which suited their captain just fine. Not that he was a bad guy or anything, he just wasn’t one of those types of officers who charged out in front of his NCOs in combat.
The next thing Price heard was the jump master shouting, “Go, go, go!”
He quickly followed the two guys in front of him out the door. The first thing he saw when he exited the plane was the runway below them.
“Wow, they’re putting us right on the tarmac!” he thought. An extra adrenaline rush flooded his system, and his heart pounded wildly.
In minutes, his feet hit the ground. He tucked and rolled just like the previous jumps and came up ready for action. He quickly unsnapped his parachute and grabbed at his drop bag, pulling out his rifle and pack. With the basic essentials ready and no visible signs of danger, he wrapped up his chute and ran to a spot just off the tarmac, where he dropped it. Looking around, he saw a number of soldiers following his lead and heading toward him, rallying on him and dropping their parachutes there as well.
When he’d collected a dozen Rangers and still they hadn’t received any enemy fire, he signaled for them to follow him quickly across the taxiway to the parking ramp and the actual airport terminals.
“Thank God we’re doing this at night,” Price thought. He was sure the place would have been crawling with people in the morning. He and the other Rangers continued to run toward the terminal, which still had half a dozen aircraft parked there. A dozen or so civilian ground crewmen were doing their nightly work on the aircraft.
As they approached the terminal, Sergeant Price’s men swiftly took the airport workers into custody and secured the area. With one squad handling the prisoners, his other three squads made their way into the structure and started to clear the individual rooms and the terminal as a whole. Another platoon made its way around the outside of the terminal as they moved quickly to the airport entrances. Their goal was to lock down the entry points and ensure no one else tried to enter the facility.
Within an hour, the entire battalion had landed and secured not just the airport, but a several-block radius around it. Price’s platoon found themselves perched on a hilltop that overlooked the entire airport, the Trichy-Chennai Highway, and the southeast side of the city. It was a lot of ground to have to secure with just a single platoon. Once the 82nd Airborne started to arrive, two additional companies of soldiers would take over control of the area, and his platoon would act more like a quick reaction force or QRF for them.
Already, a heavy weapons platoon was trudging up to join them with their equipment, bringing with them several mortars, antitank missiles, and several M2 .50 heavy machine guns. In a few hours, they’d turn that hilltop into a well-defended firebase, able to provide good support to the surrounding area and the airport.
The Stryker vehicle jostled a bit as the LCAC made its highspeed run toward the beach. First Lieutenant Slater figured they must be breaking some sort of rule or Navy policy, riding in their vehicles while packed on this hovercraft.
“If this thing takes a hit or starts to sink, we could all drown,” he thought. Looking up through the troop hatches, he could see the moon was still high in the night sky. “At least everyone should be asleep when we land.”
Seeing the nervous faces looking back at him, Slater knew he should say something. “It’s going to be OK, guys. This is just like Indonesia. No one knows we’re coming, and there won’t be anyone waiting for us on the beach. We’ll land, we’ll head to our targets and we’ll secure the area and await further orders.”
The soldiers seemed to be put a bit more at ease and they nodded their heads. So far, their company had been lucky — they hadn’t lost many soldiers in Indonesia and they’d been spared some of the heavier fighting in Asia thus far. The unit wasn’t chosen to head into Malaysia or take on any of the Chinese units, the ones who would undoubtedly fight back. They’d been saddled with the Australian and New Zealand Task Force, and up to this point, they hadn’t had to fight it out like the soldiers in Taiwan, Korea or Russia. For that, Lieutenant Slater thanked his lucky stars, but that could easily change now that they were the tip of the spear in India.
Within ten minutes of leaving the troop ship, their LCAC neared the beach. One of the Navy personnel announced, “We’re almost there.”
Then the hovercraft left the water and gently glided over the sandy beach as it made its way up to the edge of the road that separated the beach from the city. Once they’d reached the end of the shore, they dropped the front hatch, and the four Strykers and two JLTVs of his platoon sped off. With his platoon off the LCAC, the hovercraft spun up its engines again and darted back to the sea to pick up the next platoon and bring them forward as well.
Slater ordered his men, “Move forward into the city as quickly as possible.”
Standing up so he could see outside through the troop hatches, he got his first glimpse of the city they had just invaded.
“What a dump,” was the first thought that came to his mind. As they raced down the narrow road, he saw clusters of dilapidated shacks, stores, and run-down houses that lined the street and dotted the beach area. The next thing he noticed was the stench.
“Holy crap, Lieutenant. What the hell is that smell?” moaned Private Leiter, his heavy gunner.
The smell of feces and other unknown decay bathed their senses in its putrid odor, causing some of the soldiers to retch at first while others used a cloth to cover their noses.
“Get used to it, soldier,” remarked Slater. “It’s raw sewage. You see those steep cement cuts next to the side of each road?” he asked. The soldiers instantly looked down. “Those are the sewage pipes.”