My Confessions from Vietnam by Mark Miller & Brooke Hall

Author:Mark Miller & Brooke Hall
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-08-17T23:00:00+00:00

January 3, 1970

After four days in VC Valley, it was my turn to take my squad out for a night ambush. We were told to set up half a klick from the company perimeter, next to a trail.

The Jew found a good place to hide in some thick grass near the trail. Grandpa suggested the ambush should be set up in a circle so the enemy couldn’t sneak up from behind us. Tex set up the claymores facing the path.

I settled into a night position in the middle of the squad, close to Gook and his radio. I laid out my grenades, rifle, and glasses so I could find them in the dark. I remembered that first night on LZ Larry when I couldn’t find my glasses or rifle. I had learned a lot since then.

It was a beautiful night and the crickets were noisy. Grandpa said it was safe when the crickets made a fuss. When the crickets were quiet, you had better be in a deep foxhole.

Charlie Brown woke me up. “Sarg, I see flashlights and I hear movement from the path.”

My first reaction was to ignore Charlie Brown, who was always going on about seeing flashlights. But then I heard movement from the path, too.

We poked the rest of the squad awake and listened. It was very dangerous to blow an ambush. The enemy knew where you were. And running back to the company perimeter in the dark could get you shot by your own people.

Gook radioed the company, telling them we had movement and we were contemplating blowing the ambush.

We strained our ears listening for any sounds from the direction of the path.

A dry, fallen twig broke loudly, directly in front of us. I pulled the pin on one of my grenades and lobbed it toward the path. The grenade exploded with a bang, and it signaled the Garbage Squad to blow the ambush. The claymore mines were detonated, and we each fired a clip from our M16 rifles in the direction of the path.

We then held our fire. The guys awaited my signal. I grabbed the radio and yelled “Coming in!” into the handset, and we began running toward the perimeter.

Just after we took off, Charlie Brown moaned, “Help, I’m hurt!”

Brian and I stopped running and moved toward Charlie Brown’s voice. We found him on the ground holding his ankle.

“I fell in the dark and screwed up my ankle,” he gasped.

We grabbed him under the arms and dragged him back to the perimeter. The company was quiet, listening from the ambush. The night had become very still. No crickets chirped anymore.

Doc, our company medic, tended to Charlie Brown’s ankle.

I gave a report to CO Point, and it wasn’t until I started talking that I realized how scared I was.

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