Charlie Company was conducting a B-52 BDA (bomb damage assessment) on a cloudy Spring day when it humped out of the jungle to a five acre field. The small trees scattered in medium-high grass reminded me of the field where I first took point. A field like this would be unremarkable to most, but not to us - we preferred to be snug as a bug in the jungle.
It was early afternoon, but we were told to set up for the night here where sparse cover could invite rocket and heavy weapon attack. The lack of wildlife and bird songs made us uneasy. Hopefully, the enemy will be just as scarce, but we would need to dig deeper.
As we were scooping out foxholes with our entrenching tools and filling sandbags with the earth, we noticed that water was slowly seeping into the holes. Within five minutes they were full of water. We had the makings of a hot tub instead of a foxhole!
We had never run across terrain where the water table was so high. The guys wondered if they would float away on their air mattresses during the night.
Damn the unexpected!
We had all these sandbags full of dirt, so we piled them up in a shallow defensive arrangement. If attacked, we could lay on the ground behind them, place our weapons on top and fire away. It was better than a stick in the eye.
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| Bobby Parris (L), Terry McClish (C), Carlos (Buck) Howley (R) |
The place was perfect for snakes (not many), scorpions (too many) and the ubiquitous “fuck you” lizards (named from the sound they made).
While preparing our NDP (night defensive position), such as it was, a Bird Dog (the Cessna O-1 single-propeller two-seater) popped up in the distance. It caught our attention, because they were often used for FAC (forward air controllers) or recon. We didn't want more surprises, like nasties from F-14s or artillery dropping on our heads.
O, the appalling diversity of Vietnam!
Most of us stopped what we were doing, stood up and waved. Dangerous? No! The NVA Air Force was nonexistent. When the pilot dipped his wings back and forth in a friendly gesture, we knew he got the message. Good thing – these pilots were gutsy and the most decorated in the war. Over four hundred Bird Dogs were lost in Vietnam.
It was no KOA (Kampgrounds of America), but once we setup for the night, the guys used the extra time to read, write letters, and shoot the shit.
Others went on a war against the tons of scorpions. In an attempt to clear their sleeping areas, catching scorpions became job one. They put 'em in steel pots, squirted lighter fluid on 'em, set 'em on fire and listened to the snap, crackle and pop. Don't tell PETA.
It made at least a temporary difference. I was not aware of anyone stung during our stay, although Bobby found a six to eight inch scorpion under his air mattress after he slept on it. Scary.
When morning came, we humped back towards the jungle, leaving the scorpions behind.
Good riddance!
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