Mekong! by James R. reeves

Author:James R. reeves
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 10

The camp was tucked away in a patch of extra-thick bamboo and ferns on a side tributary of the main stream. It was built at the base of a horseshoe-shaped ledge that hung over a spring. The trees were pretty tall here, and the VC had cleared out a little patch of underbrush to put their hooches on. You'd have to fly right over the spring in a helicopter to see the camp, and they'd cleared the underbrush back from the ledge, too, so no one could slip in and spy on them from that direction without being seen.

Hercules and Mike slipped on in closer to get a better look. After an hour, they came back and said there was a better spot on the south side of the clearing, so we moved over that way.

We had to cross the trail leading in, and we were hardly ten meters beyond it- I was bringing up the rear this time—when the VC sent a patrol out. It wasn't hard to avoid them. They were chattering like a bunch of school kids. There were ten of them -an awful lot for a perimeter patrol. Hercules listened to their monkey chatter and said they were a foraging party going to get rice, probably from the village down the creek.

It was only a matter of time, then, until they found out about us.

We moved on around to the spot they'd picked, and this time I slipped in with Hercules and Mike to look at the place. There was a sentry close by, and we had to be really quiet, but we sneaked in close enough to get a good view. We needed to count the people and to see how often the sentries were changed. If there was an ammo dump or something in the camp, we wanted to know about that, too. Hercules would try to listen in as they talked, to pick up anything important they might be saying.

There seemed to be three or four sentries around the camp, at first observation. Two or three other fellows standing around with slung rifles were probably sentries, too, guarding something inside the camp. They were lax, and we were pretty sure this camp hadn't been hit in the past.

We kept watching all the rest of the day. They changed the sentries every two hours, and we finally figured out that, counting the patrol that went out, there were forty-five or fifty men, plus a few women and children.

About 1800, a runner came up the trail the patrol had gone out on, and there was immediate excitement. While he was catching his breath, Hercules slipped in as close as he dared, to hear what the runner had to say. There was a lot of arm-waving and chattering, and then someone who was obviously in charge sent out eight men. They went out with their weapons unslung, and two of them carried what looked like rolls of canvas over their shoulders.

Hercules worked his way slowly back to where Mike and I were crouched, waiting.

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