The Ba Nha Incident: A Viet Nam War Novel by David Allin

Author:David Allin
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2017-02-22T00:00:00+00:00

After leaving the small clearing behind, Samples and his small patrol had continued their sweep through the forest, winding through the trees and dodging around thorny vines and sticky bushes. They had crossed a couple barely-discernable paths that were probably game trails, but had seen nothing else of importance. Soon they came within a hundred yards of the smoldering remains of the Cobra chopper.

“Better not get too close,” Samples warned the others. “There still could be ammo ready to cook off.” Even from this distance and despite the intervening trees, they could see how devastating the crash had been. The chopper was now no more than a tangle of blackened aluminum with tendrils of smoke drifting up through the opening in the forest canopy the crash had created. While the area around the crash site was scorched and devastated, trees and bushes beyond the circle of destruction remained green and thriving. Samples had noted before that forest fires seemed impossible in Viet Nam. He had been on missions where the American soldiers had deliberately tried to start grass or forest fires using pyrotechnics and even flame-throwers, all without success. The foliage here seemed impervious to conflagration.

The men all stopped a minute to get a drink of water and marvel at the destruction of the Cobra. Samples put his canteen back into its cover and prepared to order the sweep forward again, but then he heard the pop. All five men immediately dropped to a prone position, but Samples didn’t immediately become alarmed, assuming a round had just gone off at the crash site. A simultaneous “pow-thunk” sound as a bullet buried itself in the trunk of a tree right next to Samples’ head convinced him otherwise.

“Behind us!” Montoya yelled, scrambling like a crab to take cover on the other side of a tree. Likewise the others low-crawled or scooted to turn around and seek shelter.

“Where’s it coming from?” Samples demanded once he was prone behind a tree trunk, his rifle held around the side.

“Can’t tell,” Montoya answered.

“Then shoot anything that looks suspicious.” Samples stuck his head around the base of the tree and fired three evenly spaced shots at a bush that looked like it might hide a sniper. The other four men also began firing, peppering the spaces between the trees with bullets to at least force the enemy to keep his head down. As they emptied their magazines and reached for new ones, Samples called, “Cease fire!” There was no return fire, and the only sound was the snaps and clunks as full magazines were jammed into place and bolts released.

“How many, you think?” Axelrod asked. Samples looked over to his right, where the temporary RTO was huddled under a bush.

“Have you reported to the LT?” Samples demanded.

“Uh, just getting ready to. What should I tell him?”

“Tell him we’re taking sniper fire. Probably only one gook. Nobody’s hit.”

“Roger.” Axelrod held the handset to his face and began calling.

“Now what, Sarge?” Montoya asked.

“I’m thinking,” Samples replied. He suspected the sniper had come out of another tunnel entrance somewhere, maybe back at that little clearing.

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