Walking Point by Perry A. Ulander

Author:Perry A. Ulander [Ulander, Perry A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: HIS027070 History / Military / Vietnam War
ISBN: 9781623170134
Publisher: North Atlantic Books
Published: 2016-03-20T16:00:00+00:00

5

THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW

We were about to head out when a small boy ran up to McCoy with a bag containing several unexploded M79 rounds. Others followed, each with a small cache that he or she had hidden away. We were happy to see the growing pile of munitions, including grenades, rifle rounds, and two dud 81mm mortar rounds. To us, the stuff was worthless, but the NVA were adept at transforming it into deadly and effective booby traps. The pile represented several lives and many lost limbs. While McCoy was on the radio calling for assistance in disposing of it, two old papa-sans trotted up with a 105mm howitzer round suspended from a bamboo carrying pole. This alone could have wiped out half of our platoon.

While stuffing my pack, I overheard McCoy getting his ass chewed out by some lifer in the rear. He was reminded in no uncertain terms that we had not been authorized to give our food away to the villagers. The lifer also groused about the logistical problem of removing the ammunition, as well as the time delay this would cause, which would screw up the execution of our next mission. It was outrageous that the man could complain about having to dispose of the cache, which was as deadly as anything we could have captured from the NVA. When I looked across the perimeter to see how McCoy was taking it, I saw that he was holding the handset of the radio at arm’s length, laughing, and shaking his head in disbelief. His years of experience had taught him to see the humor in the ignorance, gall, and absurd behavior of our superiors in the rear.

I was surprised at the effectiveness of our accidental exchange. Our initial presence in the village had been met with closed doors and shuttered windows, but the simple act of sharing our food had eased their fears and opened a line of communication. Their response to our openness and trust had been greater than anything we might have been able to solicit through intimidation, arm-twisting, or political rhetoric. The war had placed the villagers in an impossible, no-win situation. First the VC would arrive and steal their crops and anything else of value, and then GIs would storm their homes looking for VC. Being unarmed, their survival depended on their ability to placate the current bully on the block, and I realized that their display of preference required real courage.

A chopper flew in to haul the munitions back to the rear, and once again we disappeared into the jungle. I continued with most of the disciplines that I’d developed early on. Usually, at the start of a new mission, I would have to force myself to repeat the mechanical motions—look down the trail, left, and right; scan the trees for snipers. After a time, I noticed that when my attention was completely focused in the present, the pain in my body from carrying a gargantuan pack would seem to fade away.

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