“Yeah, I tell you, you’re a bunch of lucky shits to be going to I Corps,” Slim Brightly was saying to no one in particular and everyone in general. “You all are gonna have a great time up there. No more of these endless, fruitless searches for our elusive foe, no, sir! ‘Cause up there Charlie really is behind every rock—shit, there’s a fucking million of ’em in I Corps. And no more of these beat-up Korean warvintage war trophies. Up there you’ll be getting bright, shiny new AKs, the ones with plastic stocks. Awards and decorations, you ask? Shit, they’ll be bringing ’em out by the bucketful with your C&D every morning. And promotions! There’ll be all kinds of vacancies to be promoted into once you start seeing action ‘round Hue.”
For a moment, I thought of tactfully asking our young artillery lieutenant if I might have a word with him in private. Then I saw, and it should have come as no great surprise, that those listening to him were enjoying his monologue mightily. And so was I.
“Now, men,” he continued, an aura of seriousness about him, “I had hoped I could be with you as all these glories unfold. However, as you know…” A broad smile began to radiate across his face. “I just have three fucking days ‘fore I take command of my battery!”
Then, pointing to Lieutenant Moseley, our new FO, who had arrived with the C&D bird that morning, he said, “So I want you men to make sure my cannon-cocker replacement here has ample opportunity to get one of ’em plastic-stocked AKs and his own bucket of medals.”
“Hey, LT,” Sweet Willie asked, “what you gonna be doing while your ‘placement here gets all them medals? Mean, don’t hardly seem right, what with you a being with us so long and all, that you ain’t gonna share a bit in all ’em good things what’s gonna happen to us in I
Corps.”
“Ah, yes, Willie,” Brightly answered. “But such is the way of life, and such is the way of war. However, rest assured that while I’m sitting there in that secure fire base, in the evening, after a hot shower, Johnny Walker in hand, waiting for that doughnut dolly to make fact of my every fantasy, my thoughts will be with you of Charlie Company as you go forward to smite our ungodly foe, whenever and wherever he may be found.”
“LT,” one of those listening said, “you can have the hot and the doughnut, but how ‘bout sending the JW out to us?”
“Goddamn right!” Lieutenant Brightly replied, now serious indeed.
“If the Six here would permit it, I’d have a fucking case of the stuff on every log bird flying!”
What he didn’t say—but I guess he did, in his way—was that he was going to miss the men with whom he had served and suffered for the past six months.
Arriving on time, the hooks picked us up and then ferried us northeast to a newly constructed airstrip not far from the coastal city of Phu Cat. Upon landing we were met by one of Major Byson’s menials, who told us to set up adjacent to the runway and prepare for an early morning departure via C-130s. Our destination was to be the city of Quang Tri, a province capital thirty miles north of Hue.
We rigged our poncho shelters on a muddy embankment beside the runway and settled in for the night. Shortly after dark, as I sat atop an empty mermite enjoying the first of my two cans of beer, First Sergeant Sullivan joined me for our evening parley.
“Pull up a mermite and pop a beer, Top.”
As he was doing so, I asked, “And what is the state of the command tonight, First Sergeant?”
“State of the command is good, Six. Troops are still in the fucking mud, still sleeping under ponchos, and still need a shower, but morale is high ‘cause battalion sent ’em their mail and two cans of beer per, and ‘cause they’re going to I Corps tomorrow. And though none of em know what the fuck that means, they know it ain’t Binh Dinh, and they’re fed up with Binh Dinh.”
“Great. Your assessment of the command’s state parallels mine to a tee.”
“They’re also in high spirits ‘cause I… uh… perhaps prematurely lifted the two-beer limit tonight. I hope you concur in my decision to do so.”
“Well, I can hardly countermand it now, can I?” I retorted, annoyed at him for not having come to me first. After a brief, somewhat awkward pause, I said, “Aw, shit, it was a good call, Top. They deserve a blast, and no one’s gonna bother us here tonight.”
“Should’ve talked to you first, sir. Sorry.”
“Forget it. But where are they getting the beer? Make a run on the Air Force club ‘cross the way there?”
“Naw, villagers have a stand set up outside the gate. Sergeant Marvel rented’ himself a jeep somewhere and is running a shuttle service. Some of our snuffies did ask if they could visit the Air Force’s establishment, you know, ‘just to have a quiet beer and watch the go-go girls a bit, Top.” Well, I gave a firm and final no on that one. Wouldn’t be in that club ten minutes ‘fore our boys in blue thought they were in the second Tet offensive, if indeed they saw anything of the first.”
“Well, I support you on that call.”
“Yeah, they’ll be fine right here tonight,” he continued. “Bunch of ’em will end up with a little buzz, some of ’em will get laid, but all of ’em will be fit to travel at first light. And that’s ‘cause they’re young. Youth recoups a lot quicker than us old.”
“Laid!” I said, interrupting him. “Who? Where? How?”
“Huh? Oh. Well, you saw them villagers assembling ‘round the outer fence ‘cross the field there just before dark, didn’t you?”
I nodded.
“Well, Six, them girls ain’t selling ice cream. They’re probably working their way through the wire right now. Shit, I saw it at English; them whores can penetrate wire barriers that’d stop a VC sapper cold!”
“Yeah, but shouldn’t we try to stop our soldiers…”
“And, Six, the best thing to do about it is just look the other way. I mean, if snuffie can smell it, he’ll find a way to get at it, and ain’t nothing we can do to stop him ‘cept maybe look like fools trying to.”
He was right, of course.
“Okay, Top. Tonight it’s see no evil, hear no evil. But you better tell Doc Heard to prepare himself for several cases of ‘lower urinary tract infection of an unknown origin’.”
He smiled and said, “Not to worry, Boss.”
We sat in silence for a while, listening to the faint rumblings of what was probably a locally hired rock-and-roll band coming from the base’s club in the distance. The base, in the light of day, appeared to be little more than a couple of tented maintenance facilities, several sandbagged POL (petroleum, oil, lubricants) points, some communications vans, and a bunch of tents with wooded and screened sidings.
“See, that’s what I mean, goddamn it!” the Bull exploded, ending our repose. “Here we sit on a fucking mermite, in the fucking mud, while those goddamn Air Force wimps over there are drinking their booze, eating their barbecued steaks, and diddling their maids. And they won’t even let us use their goddamn shower facilities!”
Where had I heard this before?
“Hey, Top, we’ll be at Camp Evans by noon. Should be able to get everybody showered tomorrow.”
“Yeah, but still.” he grunted in response.
After another brief pause, he asked what I thought we’d be doing in I Corps.
“Beats the shit out of me, Top. Guess same thing we’ve been doing in Binh Dinh—looking for Charlie and killing him when we find him.
‘Course, really don’t know how accurate Brightly’s assessment is regarding our greater opportunity of doing that in I Corps.”
“Think we’ll be going into Hue, Six?”
“Hell, I don’t know. Come on, Top, you know as much about what the powers have planned for us as I do.”