When It Rains In Hell by Harry McCoy

Author:Harry McCoy [McCoy, Harry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2013-01-01T18:30:00+00:00

231 days left in country.

Chapter 13

I Lose A Great Friend

Can Guioc-July 1968.

There is a harsh sound of static on the radio and then a chilling message. It is from Sergeant Reynolds and we can hear the fear in his voice. He is working to control the fear, and the radio transmission comes through loud and clear.

“This is Romeo Recon. Charley has blown a mine, I have one KIA and two wounded. Location checkpoint 2-7. Stand by to send dust-off chopper when contact is broken. Will inform, over.” We hear the answering affirmative from TAC. The radio goes silent, a deafening silence.

All of Juliet Recon platoon rises from our mattresses now. We have been half-asleep in the building trying to get a little rest. It is around midnight, or 2400 hours in military time. We gather around the radio, willing it to tell us something. Our brother recon platoon is out there, several very long miles outside the camp. We know all the men in the platoon, and now we know one of our friends is dead. We do not know how badly wounded the two men are.

We turn the radio up and gather our weapons quickly. I slip on my flak jacket and check the two grenades I carry on it. Next, I hang seven hundred rounds of .30 caliber machine gun ammo around my shoulders. I finish with several wraps of belted ammo around my waist to keep the rounds in place. I place the machine gun by the doorway so I can retrieve it quickly. We work by feel and the little bit of moonlight coming through the open windows. This is a sparse forward base and we have no electricity.

All around me, my friends have also been preparing to go out to help our fellow platoon. No one really wants to leave our safe area and go out to the ambush area. It would be much better to stay here and not face the blood and death beyond the perimeter. Our friends are out there and we do not let a fellow soldier down, so we prepare to go when the order is given.

The radio comes to life again. In the background, we can hear several weapons firing on automatic, then a pause. There is a thunk as an M-79 grenade launcher sends a round toward the enemy. Several seconds later, not far away, we hear the explosion. We hear bursts of AK-47 fire interspersed with chattering M-16s. It is hard to listen to this without bolting for the door and heading south toward the firefight.

“Request backup gunship. Two clicks south of base. Home in on tracers. Standing by for orders. Estimate ETA,” Sgt. Reynolds breathes into the mike. His voice is calmer now, but I detect the stress in the voice. The sergeant sounds royally pissed off. Someone has hurt his men and knowing him as I do, I suspect dawn will reveal some VC bodies. It will not bring back the dead man, but it might even the score.

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