The Ville (Vietnam Ground Zero Military Thrillers Book 9) by Eric Helm

Author:Eric Helm [Helm, Eric]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sapere Books
Published: 2021-02-20T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 7

THE MEO VILLAGE, LAOS

Long before dawn the men assembled near one of the corner bunkers. Work on them had been continued the day before, although most of Bromhead’s and Gilman’s time had been spent getting the ambush patrol ready. Those villagers not involved with it had been assigned to the bunker detail, and although the progress had been slow, two of the bunkers had been finished and eight more had been started.

At two in the morning, the last of the scouts returned. He went directly to Beu’s hootch, who escorted him to the weapons hut where Bromhead slept. The man was filthy, covered with dirt, sweat and a hundred scratches. He had lost his crossbow but he had found the enemy. A column of soldiers moving to the south following a small, ill-defined trail. When questioned about the number he would only say, “Many. Many,” and then “beaucoup,” one of the few French words he knew.

Bromhead finally sent the man away and used a map to determine how far the enemy was and his route of travel. Showing the scout a map did no good because the man couldn’t read it. The symbols were so much nonsense to him. Gilman and Bromhead plotted a course, figuring where the enemy column would be the next day.

Afterward, they went through the equipment one last time. They unpacked several claymore mines, hand grenades, and anything else they thought might be useful in the ambush. Bromhead wanted to do more, but while standing in the litter of equipment he could think of nothing else. At best, they would be gone the majority of one day and at worst, two. A few cans of C-rations, an extra canteen or two, and that was it.

Bromhead finally settled down to rest. He slept fitfully, waking up with a start every few minutes. He would jerk awake, his nerves screaming, his senses alert, as if he had heard something outside. Finally he got up, moved to the outside of the hootch where he could sit on the edge of the floor in the doorway and watch the world.

The moon was up, giving the surroundings the strange, black and white look of an old movie. There was a light ground fog that hugged the low spots and almost no breeze. Bromhead pulled at some of the thatch and wrapped it around his finger, watching the jungle. It was a black, ominous place beyond the grassy plain. A foreboding place that seemed to beckon him. He felt chills up and down his spine as if he were looking at the moors in England where the phantom had just vanished. All he needed was the howling of a wolf in the background and it would be the perfect setting for a horror story.

But he didn’t move. He turned so that he was looking at the village. The rows of hootches, each up on stilts, the bare ground under it visible. There was a flickering of firelight and he saw a dog trotting along.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.