The Sniper by Jim Lindsay

Author:Jim Lindsay
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

* * *

It was a nice cool day, cool for Vietnam anyway, when Chuck saw a helicopter approaching the perimeter. Chuck was curious what it was bringing. Mail? Cigarettes? Fresh water? Ammo?

The helicopter landed on the LZ. Two marines jumped out, neither wore a helmet, one had an M14, the other carried a Remington sniper rifle. A sniper team!

Camaraderie was high between snipers. Though it was not uncommon for a company to have more than one sniper team, Chuck rarely saw one outside of An Hoa, where he went only once a month.

Chuck called over to Wayne and they hurried out to welcome them. After introductions, Chuck and Wayne showed them where they could pitch their tents. The spotters got busy putting up the tents, leaving Chuck and Louie time to get acquainted.

“How’s everything going out here?” Louie asked.

“We’ve been busy.” Chuck pointed to a circle of huts built on a rise about six hundred yards away. “There was a shoot-out down at that village yesterday.”

“You get a shot?”

“No, Wayne and I were in the wrong place—watching a trail—missed the whole thing. But it’s secure now. The CO told me the VC are either dead or gone.”

“Let’s take a look,” said Louie. “They might have left a souvenir, like a gun or something.”

So Chuck and Louie slung their sniper rifles and started a leisurely trip down to the village while visiting and feeling a cool relaxing breeze on their necks. As they stepped through a tree line and approached the village, things seemed normal. Kids were playing, women were cooking and washing clothes. The village was calm. It seemed like the war had taken the day off.

But when they stepped into the village, it turned quiet. The villagers wouldn’t look at them, then suddenly they were gone—disappeared like ghosts. Chuck and Louie raised their rifles and, back-to-back, scanned the area, expecting automatic rifle fire any second. Chuck knew they didn’t have a chance with their long-bolt-action rifles and said, “It’s time to leave.” Louie didn’t argue; they turned to run. AK-47s tore into the red dirt at their feet. Chuck and Louie sprinted through the tree line with VC on their tails and raced for the perimeter. About two hundred yards to go, they were met by their spotters and a squad of grunts, shooting back at the VC. When the VC saw the cavalry coming to the rescue, they lost interest and disappeared into the brush.

Chuck recalled another lesson: never, ever, leave your spotter and his M14 behind.

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