Jocko Podcast - 457: Slogging Through Ambushes and Booby Traps. GUNS UP!!! With Vietnam Machine Gunner, Johnnie Clark

Episode Date: September 25, 2024

>Join Jocko Underground<Company A, First Battalion, Fifth Marines. Johnnie Clark is an American author and Vietnam Veteran, best known for his 1984 Vietnam War memoir Guns Up!. Many of his works fall into the genre of non-fiction military and contain a tough, no nonsense portrayal of combat, courage, and camaraderie. Support this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/jocko-podcast/exclusive-content

This is Jocko podcast number 457 with Echo Charles and me, Jocco Willink. Good evening, Echo. Good evening. The hollow thumping of a mortar round leaving the tube echoed across the hilltop, bringing a wave of quiet over the chattering Marines. Some men looked up while others flattened against the rocky surface of the hill. The first round exploded against the base of the small hills southern side. The second round hit 15 meters up the slope of the southern side. I stuck my face into the dirt and put my hands over my helmet.

I wanted to hide, but there wasn't even tall grass available. The third round hit the crest of the hill. I heard a scream. I clawed into the rocky earth with my fingernails. I heard another thump, followed by a faint whistle. Then a violent explosion shook the ground I was trying to become a part of. I peeked from under my helmet just in time to see another explosion 10 meters to my right. rocks and dirt came down on my back the mortar rounds walked across the top of the hill like a giant's footsteps mangling anything in their path i shoved my face into the dirt and waited for the pain guns up guns up the command came from the other side of the hill red jumped to his feet with the m60 in one hand and ammo belts in the other come on boot guns up

And that right there is an excerpt from the incredible book Guns Up by Johnny M. Clark, who was a Marine Corps machine gunner in Vietnam. This was a position that not many people wanted because there's no stronger bullet magnet in a gun fight from the enemy than a belt-fed machine gun. in that situation the enemy will concentrate their fire on the machine gun and that means the machine gunner and they'll keep doing that until they have eliminated it that being said a machine gun is what keeps the squad and the platoon alive in a contact and it takes courage and tenacity and skill to stay on that gun and make it sing and johnny clark did that over and over and over again as a member of Company A, First Battalion, Fifth Marines. He was wounded three times by mortar, grenade, and gunshot.

He was awarded three Purple Hearts, Combat Action Ribbon, the Vietnamese Cross of Gallantry, and the Silver Star. And it is an honor to have Johnny M. Clark here with us tonight to share his experiences and lessons learned. Sir, thank you for joining us. Thank you for having me. It's a great honor to be here. No, the honor is 100% on my side of the table.

I can guarantee you that. I am a huge fan of machine gunners in general. So to have the machine gunner, the iconic machine gunner that you are here to tell your story and talk about it. Just reading through the book again. And it's just, it's an incredible book. The way you, the way you explain things, the things that you guys went through.

It's just an incredible book. And what you experienced is the way you captured on paper is, makes it hard to believe. And yet I know it's true. So, thanks for coming out. I guess before we jump into the book too much, let's talk a little bit about, where you came from. So what year were you born? 49. Okay.

Yeah, I came from Charleston, South Charleston, West Virginia. So I was a hillbilly and grew up in a pretty serious poverty. My dad was blind. And he was in a car wreck and lost his eyesight and was crippled. They didn't think he'd live, but he lived seven more years after that. So my mom had, me and my sister, and she had two other kids, my half-brother sister, Jimmy and Judy, and their dad was killed in the Battle of the Bulge in World War II. So my mom has really been, she really went through it. She had six purple hearts. So she saw it all.

So, yeah, I grew up in some, we live. lived in a garage. First, it was a log cabin, but I was too little to remember that. And then it was a one-car garage. And it was, as a kid, though, I was, you know, poverty didn't, it didn't face me. I just didn't think about it. You know, you're a kid. So I was just having fun. In spite of everything, I was always having fun. I would bring people in. My dad was in a full body cast for a year. And, you know, this is 1954. I was five years old when it happened. So he's in a full body cast, and we didn't have a bedroom in this garage. So we had a curtain around him. And I'd bring other kids in there just to look at it, because he looked like the mummy. So I'd bring,

and I'd charge him. They charge him like a nickel to come in and see my dad, the mummy. Yeah. But, yeah, so I grew up, a lot of our food, came from. from big green government cans, you know, from World War II, which is kind of funny because in Vietnam, I was still eating World War II food. But yeah, so, yeah, but they were bigger cans with my mom. Yeah, but my dad died when I was 10, and we moved to Florida. Mom had to give up the other kids because she couldn't feed them.

So my sister went to live with my grandpa, grandma out in Lincoln County, West Virginia. That's up the holler from the McCoys and down the holler from the Hatfields. And she ended up marrying a McCoy. She's married to Kirby McCoy right now. And my half-brother and half-sister, they went with grandparents from their dad's side and lived in Kentucky in Wilmore, Kentucky. So it split the family up.

I was a baby, so Mom kept me. and you know there's always some guilt about that you get to stay with your mom and everybody the others don't but uh but they got to eat and then you moved down so you moved down to Florida yeah and so how old were you and you moved down to Florida uh almost 11 okay and then when you got down there you just what was your mom doing she was working at a web city a big it was a big famous place in st petersburg at the time doc web's web city what's what's website. I didn't know what it is.

Well, it was the biggest, uh, uh, it was the biggest, uh, drugstore in the world. Okay. And,

but they had entertainment. It was gigantic. It covered like a city block. And, uh, you got haircuts there, you know, I got cheap haircuts. So I got all my haircuts,

buzz cuts, you know, uh, anyway, yeah, she, she worked there and, uh,

and then, uh, she ended up, uh, eventually when I was 14, she married, uh, uh,

Paul Lampey. He was, my stepdad for until he died and uh he um he was golden gloves boxer hell's kitchen new york and navy vet in world war two and uh good good guy a tough guy and i kind of needed i needed a tough hand i was i was a fighter quite often i was getting in trouble here and there and and uh i needed somebody who could smack me around and you know and he taught me how to box early on you know some need old boxing tricks.

So he was good for me. He was good for me. So now you're 14, 15 in high school. Are you, how's your grades? In the book, I was one of my, you say, you say you were, quote, no danger of being classified a genius. I graduated because I was, we had a great football team. And I was, you know, I was no superstar, but we needed bodies.

We only had like 20. After a bunch of injuries, we had about 24 guys on the team. And we were playing Clearwater High, you know, in Tampa, Hillsborough. These guys, they had 120 players. So they needed me. So one of my coaches was my math teacher, and I was taking business math. And I was going to fail. And that's the easiest math you could take.

And I was going to fail it. And he was a big old guy. He had played for the Chicago Bear. So big old horseman. And he grabbed me, you know, he could pick me up with one hand. He goes, you know, if we didn't need you, I'd fail you. And so he gave me a D-minus in business math. And got me, you know, I graduated.

And then it was the same in English. I didn't know. And now from a verb, but, you know, they kept me on the team. Were you thinking about, at what point did you start thinking about the military? Oh, well, from the time I was about six years old. Okay, so you had that plan. Oh, yeah, I was joining the Marine Corps from day one. I had one uncle who was a Marine.

Like I said, a lot of poverty. It wasn't a lot to look up to. But this one uncle was this Marine. He looked a lot like you. It was one of those no neck guys, you know. I'll take that as a compliment. Oh, no, it is. He would knock people out with head butts.

So I always looked up to Uncle Bobby. And so I always wanted to be a Marine. So were you just waiting to graduate? Yep. Yep. That's all I was waiting. What year did you graduate? 67.

So Vietnam's in full, full effect. Oh, yeah. Yeah, it was full, full war. And you were one of the probably very, very, very few people rolling down to the recruiting office saying, hey, I want to enlist in the Marine Corps? Yeah. There were three guys from my football team that were going to join the Marines with me. I had kind of talked them into it.

Only one showed up. Me. So they had our bus ready and everything. They were going to Jacksonville. and get inducted and nobody showed up. So they went different directions. So 67, the hippies aren't really out yet. Is the anti-war movement happening yet?

No, it wasn't real bad. Not really bad yet. No, it was real bad when I came home. And I got a couple of stories about that. So as you go to the recruiter, the recruiter, was this the most elated recruiter of all time that you walking and say, hey, I want to be, I want to go to, I want to go to Vietnam? Oh, yeah.

You're in. No, I, I did early entry. I joined when I was 17. And so they had an early entry program back then. So I had already, they knew I was coming, you know, I was already in. I just needed to get out of school and take off. How was boot camp? Well, before I got to boot camp, they were going to 4-F me in Jacksonville.

They weren't going to let me in. How come? And I'd already said. say my goodbyes, man. You know, you know, I can't go back and say I didn't make the team, you know. So I, uh, they told me I had a hernia. Well, I'm telling them, and all the, it's all these Navy doctors, you know, and they pulled me in a room and they said, look, kid, this is you're out, you know, you don't have to go to

an arm. This is you're out. Uh, you got a hernia. And I'm, I start doing one arm pushups. I was pretty fit, you know, high school football and stuff. And I'm backflips and I'm doing, you know, I'm doing everything. And there's nothing wrong with me. I'm going in.

You've got to let me go. And they all had a little conference. And they said, you're so crazy. You should be in the Marine Corps. So you're in, kid. And back then, there was no job selection. Did you have any job selection whatsoever? Nope.

They told me, you're going to get an M-16? Well, no, you're going to get an M-14. You're going to get an M-14. You're going straight to NOM. And I said, okay. That's Jack. All right, so now you show up to boot camp.

Yeah, boot camp was eye-opener. I mean, boot camp in 1967 was a lot rough from boot camps are today in the Marine Corps. I mean, a lot of things are doing. I saw him PT, a fat body. That's what they call guys that were overweight, you know, and they couldn't get the fat body to lose enough weight. And I had two D.I screaming at this guy that, we're going to drive you out of our Marine Corps. You're going to go to NOM and get guys killed.

So we've got to get rid of you. And they were just telling him, we got to get rid of you. And they PTed him, made him do leg lifts until he ruptured. He had a hernia right there in this. And then they carried him. We had these old wooden World War I barracks, you know, in Paras Island. And they're cussing him and carrying him downstairs and cursing him while the corpsmen are taking him away. we told you we'd drive you out of our effing marine corps we told you and you're out of here it was we had a guy one guy climbed up on the water tower at PI and threatened to commit suicide if they didn't let him off paris island and so uh the di's lined up the entire battalion around the water tower they marched us we don't know what they're doing they marched us all out there

and we weren't allowed to look around if they saw you look right or left they'd hit you And I mean really hit you You know 1967 they'd hit you And so we We were scared I was scared anyway Maybe some guys tough enough

To look around I was scared to death So I'm looking straight ahead I didn't know where I was going Or why I was going there I was just going And pretty soon I realized I'm on grass

And we're lying Here's all these Marines All around the water towel And now The Marines Yell HADs up And so we all look up

And now You see this poor sap up on the water tower and the drill instructors are screaming at the top of their lungs. All right. My Marines are ready. If you don't jump off that water tower, we're going to kick the hell out of you when you come down. He came down.

He didn't jump. And they beat him up pretty bad. I don't know if they drove him off the island or not, but they would drive guys off the island. That's a fine line, though, because they still need guys to go over to Vietnam. And they have draftees coming in if a draftee doesn't want to be there. Yeah. In 67, there weren't very many draftees in the Marine Corps.

They were still, you had to join. They were starting because they were taking so many casualties. And so they were starting a draft. But I never saw a draftee. We never had any with us. Everybody joined. So these guys coming back from Vietnam were all the drill instructors. They were all combat veterans coming back.

and they were not playing around. No, they were not playing around. My senior drill instructor was the only one who wasn't a non-Vet. But the other two, another no-neck guy. I mean, just built like a spark plug. And he hit me one time. I was trying to, we didn't get to read our mail.

We didn't get a second. I mean, I had letters from girls. And I wanted to read the freaking letters. And there wasn't any time. And so, and I think they knew this. But, but, so I, I got my flashlight out one time. And I'm trying to read under the covers. And I'm, I got about two lines.

And all of a sudden the rack gets knocked over. And I'm in the top bunk. And now I'm, I'm at attention on the floor, you know, and I'm scared to death. And this, this, this, this no neck guy hits me with a, we call him spear hands. And he hit me right at between these, these, in the, in the, neck and grabbed these two bones and pulled me to a standing position. I was black and blue until I got off Parasana. I was black and blue. But yeah, these were, these are tough. They were mean guys, but they really wanted us to keep alive. And, you know, when I got the nom, boy, I saw, I saw

the benefits of him. I mean, you know, we were, I was on a three-man killer team one time where 200 NVA walked by us. I mean, we could smell the garlic. These guys were walking by us. I could see their hoaching ins, you know, flopping by me. And if one of us even sneezed, you know, we were dead. There was no, three Marines out there, 200 NVA, you know, you're dead as a doorknail. And we were getting eaten alive by ants and mosquitoes. Well, all it would take is one idiot, you know, slapping. And boy, it came back to me, Paris Island. It'd stand in the Chow hall, chow line, you know, and

at Paris Island, you've got sand fleas. It's just miserable. And they'd eat you alive. And if you slapped one, after you got up from a D.I. knock in your flat, the whole platoon would suffer and make them all lay down and say,

see this, you killed your whole platoon. And then you'd have to dig a grave for the sand flea, and after you finished digging it with an e-tool, and they'd come up and they'd go, okay, we found the dead, Sanflee. What sex was it? You're dead. So now you're going to dig another grave.

That means you killed two of them. Yeah, they were pretty mean. But they got your attention, you know. Was there anything that was challenging for you? On Paras Island? Yeah. Oh, yeah. Did you fail anything?

I was, you know. You'd think, being from Florida, I mean, you know, you'd think I could swim. But we had to stay in the pool, this great big pool, with full combat gear. Yeah, the boots and the helmet. I don't remember if they had flag jackets or not. But anyway, all the gear. And a metal rifle, metal M14. And you had to stay in there for, I forgot how long it was.

But I couldn't float. I never learned how to float. So I almost drowned that day. And if you grab the side of the pool, well, they'd break your hand. I mean, they come with combat boot. Just stomp your hand. So guys were trying to grab just for a second. Usually you were too late because there were DIs all around the pool

and they were just waiting to stomp on your hand. But I almost drowned that day. That was scary. What did you weigh? I weighed about 1.30. when I got the PI and I weighed 160 when I got off. Dang. Got some real food in you, I guess, for the first time.

Yeah, yeah. And if guys needed to lose weight, they lost it. If guys needed to gain weight, they gained it. Yeah, they, because you didn't have any choice. You went through the chowel, you know, and they would put the food on your plate, and you were going to eat every bite. Yeah, I mean, you didn't have any choice.

All right. In this book, you know, a lot of times in books, They'll have a whole, they give their whole kind of personal historical background. And then they get to, you know, boot camp and boot camp takes another three chapters. And so you got, you're already five, six chapters deep in a book before you get to, you know, going to war. Your book is like page three. We're in Vietnam. So let's get there.

You say this, and this is now you're flying in and you fly in in a Braniff Airlines. 727, which was an old airline company. I guess they chartered it. Was it all Marines on there? All Marines, yeah. Yep. So you roll in there. And here we go.

The one comforting thought I had was that I wasn't alone. The plane bulged with young Marine Corps faces. Private First Class, Richard Chan was the only one I knew very well. We had been together since Paris Island, the Marine Corps boot camp. Chan had been born in Red China. His father and mother smuggled him out as an infant. He wasn't your average Marine. Besides being American Chinese, he had his pre-med degree from the University of Tennessee with a minor in ministry.

He could have been playing doctor in New York, but he joined the Corps because he felt that he owed the country a debt for taking him in. Corny as it might sound, he also wanted to be the best, a Marine, a feeling we all shared. We couldn't get away from each other. Bunkies at Paris Island, bunkies at ITR, infantry training regiment school, bunkies at Jungle Warfare School in Camp Pendleton, California. Now we sat beside each other on a plane landing in Denang. The blistering sun stung my eyes as I reached the first step of the drab gray departing ramp. I tried to be ready to duck.

Scuttlebutt had it that one plane load of Marines had gotten hit on the runway, but I couldn't hear any gunshots, just some moronic sergeant screaming, move it, move it, move it. By the time I reached the bottom of the ramp, my eyes adjusted enough to see a hot blue sky without a single cloud. A sleek, impressive camouflage, phantom jet. Wined to a stop nearby, thundering artillery echoed across the airstrip. The Marine in front of me whistled, man, they mean business. God, I thought, this is the real thing.

I'm in war. I mumbled a quick prayer, something I hadn't done since I was 14. So you're pretty lucky to be going to war with your buddy, Richard Chan, who did you spend all this time with. Yeah, yeah, we from boot camp on, you know, alphabetical, Shannon Clark. Yeah, we were, we were stuck in everything together. And then at machine gun school, you know, I mean, he was smart enough. He was a smart guy. He could have done anything. He should have been an officer, but, you know, this is what he wanted. And, uh, but at machine gun school, I wanted to go, I wanted to go recon. We fired expert with the M60, you know, and they needed machine gunners, but we, yeah, we weren't aware of anything.

I was just doing what they told me to do. But I wanted those little gold wings. It were chick magnets. I mean, if you had those little gold wings, I knew I was going to pick up women with those little gold wings. And so I talked Chan into it. So we were going to go recon. And recon would go by our barracks once in a while, and I was getting all psyched out. They do pull-ups off the water tower, off this pole sticking out of the water tower.

And, you know, I was just all over there. I said, this is great. And in the middle of the night, I put on our transfer orders, and I talked to Jan into this. And we were going to transfer over to recon. We had an old sergeant, and he was an older guy. He's probably been in World War II. He had his office at the end of the barracks. These are the old wood barracks, the World War I, you know, Camp Lejeune barracks.

They've got a few of them there, but they're mostly gone. But at the end of the barracks, you know, the staff sergeant, gunnery sergeant, whatever, he would have his office here. He came out about 0200, you know, it's some crazy hour, and he throws a metal garbage can, because we only had the old galvanized cans here back then. He throws this galvanized garbage can down the squad bay. and starts screaming, guns up, guns up, guns up, and so all the guys, you know, hop out of the racks,

and we're standing at attention, our skivies, and we don't know, what the hell's going on? You know, we're shipping out early. And he grabs me, and he goes, Clark, here's a piece of chalk, draw a line down the squad bay. And I, you know, and I'm now, I'm going to, I don't like the looks of this. So I draw this line all the way down the squad bay,

and he says, all right, everybody put the, put their toes up on that line. And so all the machine gutters are lined up on this thing, toes on the line, standing at attention. And he starts in, okay, I thought you men joined my Marine Corps to kill the enemy. I thought you came here to fight. But if you didn't, you're not Marines. You're something else.

He goes, some of you evidently just want to find the enemy and then tell us to go kill them. So for those men who want to transfer out of machine guns, the most important, dangerous position in every platoon. It goes, I want you to step over the line. I tell you, it was like being in the Alamo. Okay, all you guys can leave. Well, that was the end of my golden wings. My chick magnet was gone.

Check. Going back to the book here, the TED Offensive was in full swing and the Battle for Way City had covered the front page of every newspaper back home. On TV, the house-to-house. writing looked like World War II films. Chan stood in front of me in alphabetical order. The line of Marines filing past a loud dispersing officer.

Each man handed him a set of orders, which he grabbed quickly and stamped with a big rubber stamp as he screamed, Fifth Marines. I tapped Chan on the shoulder. Why is everybody going to Fifth Marines? They can't need this many replacements. Chan looked over his shoulder with one of those, boy, have I got news for you looks. Oh, I think they might have accommodations for us. That's the regiment that's taking away City.

So Chan was How was Chan maybe 22 or 23 or something? I think he was 23 Just a little bit older Yeah A lot smarter Oh

He was a genius You know I got stuck with a freaking genius Yeah Oh that's classic But he does know what's going on A little bit more familiar With what's going on in the world Probably had read newspapers and stuff like that

Yes Move it move it Move it Move it The sergeant shouted A moment later, the big rubber stamp came down on my orders, like the authority of God, Fifth Marines. From there, you guys go, and, hey, listen, I have read a lot of military books.

I'm obviously, can't read this whole book right now. This is one of the best first person accounts of Vietnam I've ever read. So if you haven't got the book guns up, go and get it right now. It's just outstanding. It was so hard for me not to just turn this into just me reading the entire book. an audio book for the podcast. So I wish they'd get you to read the, they're doing a new audio.

It'd be great if you did it. That's awesome. We'll get this book. This book is awesome. So I'm going to fast forward a little bit. You guys go to get on a C-130. You fly to Fubai. Fubai is the base camp for Fifth Marines.

It's about 15 miles from Way City. Going back here, we were taken to a large tent where an old, crusty-looking master gunnery sergeant with a giant silver handlebar mustache. screamed attention. The chattering tent went silent. I am master gunnery sergeant O'Connell. I will help you in your indoctrination on the fifth Marine regiment. The old sergeant gave his great mustache a slow, proud, twirl, and turned towards a large

blackboard behind him. This is the most decorated regiment in the United States Marine Corps. He spoke as he wrote French Forteget at the top of the blackboard. Some of you may remember hearing about Bella Woods in boot camp. The fifth took the woods in 24 hours of hand-to-hand combat. You will wear on your dressed uniform the French fortage. We are the only Marines in the Corps allowed to wear any item other than Marine Corps issue. The Fifth Marines have taken Guadalcanal, New Guinea, New Britain, Palau, Okinawa, Tinsin, China, Pusan, Incheon, in Seoul, Korea, and the Chosen Reservoir.

Now it's Way City. He put his hands on his hips, standing with his boots, more than shoulders. or width apart. He beamed with pride as he stuck out his barrel-shaped chest. We have the highest kill ratio in Vietnam. The colonel does not intend for that to change. Unless we are given permission to invade the North, we shall continue fighting under the rules now in effect. You will not kill people who are not in uniform unless you are being fired upon by them. You will kill anyone in a North Vietnamese government uniform. So there's your welcome aboard. How'd that make you feel?

Nervous. Yeah. You know, I was scared, but I was excited, too. I mean, you know, come on, what's more exciting than that? But, yeah, I was getting scared. I think I really got scared, though, you know, when I started hearing the life expectancy of the machine gunners. Yeah.

Yeah, you know, I mean, they told us at machine gun school, but you don't believe, you know, they tell you a lot of crap. You know, you believe half of it. And so I didn't, it just didn't make any sense. Seven to ten seconds, I'm going, you know, how could there be any machine gutters left? It's impossible. But I found out, found out how that works. When you showed up in country, you didn't know what battalion you were going into? No. So you could have gone to any of the battians that were in country? And I'll tell you, the Marine Corps learned from that, too. Yeah, that was a terrible mistake. Yeah. That's sending guys in piecemeal, you know, whoever's got the most casualties, they got the replacements.

Now, after NOM, because that caused so many problems in so many different ways, they would send you over as a unit and bring you back as a unit. And that was a terrible mistake that the Marines made in Vietnam. Yeah, the Army did that too in Vietnam, and they changed it as well. So that was the way we've been fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan was your whole unit is going over there. And, of course, you're going to get some replacements, guys get wounded and killed, you're going to get replacements, but you get to deploy with your whole unit

and you get to come home with your whole unit, which I think is also important. And the bond you build with guys. You know, I mean, when you were a new guy walking in to, you know, I'm walking into a bunch of guys that have come out of Way City. You know, a lot of these Marines, you know, a lot of them have already been wounded more than once.

You know, they're hardcore. And they don't want to deal with a new boot. You know, they don't want to see his new boot. He's going to get in the way, killed and until they found out I was a machine goater then they loved me but yeah so I I think it was a terrible mistake sending us over piecemeal um going back to the book here a truckload of Marines drove by covering us with a solid layer of dust the men in the truck howled with laughter at us some shouted friendly insults about our stateside utilities we stuck out like big green thumbs every person we'd

seen so far was dressed in jungle utilities the men in the truck low They looked hard. Their jungle clothes were tattered and torn. The men hadn't shaved in a long time. Their skin was dark from the jungle sun. They looked lean and mean like Marines are supposed to look. We look like fat, happy kids, clean-shaven with side-walled haircuts and spit-shied stateside boots.

You get it put in this. And again, I'm just reading some highlights. You get put in this tent. There's some rows of cots in there. And you see this one guy asleep on the tent. He's this giant red-haired guy. and you say he looked like a giant Viking, a big red mustache matched his hair. He was the most handsome red-headed man I'd ever seen, a real billboard Marine.

I leaned closer to tap him on the shoulder as he rolled over the cock creaked under the strain. I knew one thing for sure. I wanted this monster on my side when the fighting started. He opened one large blue eye which focused on Chan. What's this gook doing in here? Chan jumped to his feet. He rambled off a series of insults, some of which included the biological background of the big red heads parents his speech his looks his smell and his

intelligence so let me just interject right now an explanation about the offensive slur word gook the origin of this term is it's not completely known where it comes from but it may have come from the Marines in the Philippine-American War, which was in 1899. There was a similar term, Goo-Goo, which was used to refer to Filipinos. This term was also used by Marines in Nicaragua in 1912 to refer to the locals. And it was used by Marines to describe the native populace in Haiti in 1920. So originally this term was used to refer to any non-American. And in World War II, it was used on the Pacific front to describe natives in the Pacific Islands.

And then by the Korean War, it increased usage, one theory tracing it to American servicemen, misinterpreting the Koreans use of their term, which is Magook, which means American. Douglas MacArthur actually banned the word because he didn't want to alienate the Koreans, but the word stuck. And by the Vietnam War, it was used, continually used, initially to describe the communist soldiers, but eventually as a general slur used to describe any Vietnamese person. And this was not good for the mindset of the Americans or the relationships with the Vietnamese people. So the word was again discouraged by American senior leadership in Vietnam, which made use of the word an act of rebellion against senior leaders,

against official policy, and in many ways, against the war itself. So the word was used extensively during the war, and it's used in this book, and I've kept the usage of the word to preserve the context and the atmosphere, which at the time was racially tense, jarringly dehumanizing and brutally raw,

which actually makes the bonds of these Marines across racial, social, and economic lines even more powerful. With that, let's get back to the book. The big red head opened both eyes fully as if he couldn't believe his ears. I wanted to calm things down, but couldn't find the words. A friendly smile appeared from behind the large red mustache.

He laughed deep and strong, then stuck out his hand. Chan hesitated for an instant, then shook it. My name is Red. They call me Big Red. You look like boots. We are, I said. We just got in today. What platoon are you in?

He rolled back to a comfortable position. Second platoon, Chan said. First battalion, Fifth Marines. That means you're with me. What's your MOS? Military occupational specialty is 0331, Chan said dryly. We're both 0331s, I said. A big smile stretched across his face.

Both gunners. Oh boy, they're sure going to be glad to see you two. Why is that? asked Chan. I'm a gunner too, he said. I got hit on the first day of Operation Way City. And when I left, I was the last gunner with machine gun MOS in the whole company. They were grabbing mortar men and sticking M-60s in their hands. And believe me, they don't like humping through the bush with grunts.

Do you remember that crap they told you in machine gun school about the life expectancy of a gunner after a firefight begins? We nodded in unison. Well, they meant it. Seven to ten seconds. Don't get too worried, though, Red said. I heard we might invade. If we do, this war will be over in a couple of weeks. Just don't panic out there.

Go at it, gung ho. If you're too careful, you'll just make a better target. He goes into just the full-on, like, welcome aboard. You probably ought to take your dog tags off the chain. They make noise at night. It'll get you killed. If your head gets blown off, they probably won't find your tags, and you won't buy identified.

String them into your bootlaces. The boots usually hold together and they won't make noise and color them up with something so they don't shine with the sun or moonlight. If you got anything you want to keep dry, put it in plastic and stick it between your helmet and helmet liner. He pointed at the grenades lying on the cot. Bend the pins on those frags right now. When you hump through the bush, sticks get caught in the ring and pull out the pin and you'll get blown away. Red's advice made me realize for the first time all of the assorted ways I could get myself killed in this place. His information scared me, but I knew it was important and I was thankful for it.

Don't ever take off your boots unless there's in some area like food buy. Put your crap paper in plastic if you want any hope of keeping it dry. Writing paper too. If you don't put halazon tablets in each canteen of water, you'll get dysentery by the first drink. When it's 120 degrees out, you'll drink a lot of water. Take your malaria pills every day or you'll get malaria and they'll stay with you even if we go home. The salt tabs too. Forget your salt tabs and you'll pass out from heat exhaustion and take your helmet off when you get the chance.

I saw one boot get his brain fried because he left that pot. on all day when it's about 120 degrees. Ask whoever's writing to send you some care packages with Kool-Aid and stuff like that won't spoil in the heat. Does the M-16 rifle malfunction consistently under jungle conditions as projected? Chan asked with a usual overdose of vocabulary. Red looked at me quizzically. Does he always talk like that? I nodded the affirmative. Red chuckled then answered, no, not if you keep it clean. Clean it every single day or it'll jam the M62 use lots of oil during the monsoon season your weapon will start to rust every few hours if you light up a cigarette at night you can kiss your butt goodbye if the gooks don't kill you

another marine probably will more important than more important for you two than anything else is this when you hear guns up you got to get that gun to a firing position and open up welcome aboard welcome to vietnam red putting out the word he was uh he was uh he was was a great Marine. He was, he was, he was, he was a, he was a bouncer in one of the, uh, toughest bars in Cincinnati when he was 15. He had been, he had been raised by, uh, he'd been raised by, uh, an old Marine that served under General Halsey. Yeah, tough guy. He had been abandoned and this old, this old Marine kind of raised him that, sort of abandoned. It's kind of a sad story, but Yeah, he was, he was all-marine.

So now you're, I imagine you're getting even more nervous as this, as you're hearing this. Oh, yeah. Start writing letters real quick. Fast forward. Again, get the book. Fast forward a little bit. The third day, the whole group of boots, you're herded into a big tent. Atmospheres very serious.

A guy walks in. You're getting indoctrination upon indoctrination. This guy comes in. You are members, I think he's a major. Yeah, he's a major. You are members of the 5th Marines. The 5th is now completing Operation Way City. The 5th Marines have been given the job of retaking way,

which was occupied by the NVA on 31 January. By February 9th, the enemy dead count had reached 1,053. It is estimated that two enemy battalions have been destroyed. By that point, all we have left can be considered mopping up. That does not mean people won't be shooting at you. Now, I know you all have a lot of questions, but this is all you have to know. You are United States Marines

that finest fighting men in history of the world. We have never lost a major battle. No other fighting unit on earth can make such a claim. Now attention. The tent of full white sidewall haircut snapped to attention. Repeat after me. Yay, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

the course of our youthful voices stuttered out the words like they had never heard them before. I shall fear no evil. We repeated the second part more clearly, for I am the meanest mother in the valley. I loved it. I didn't quite feel right about using the Lord's word in vain, but I felt psyched enough to go all the way to Russia and stop this crap where it started. Saddle up. Saddle up is a term that's used throughout the book.

It's like, we're rolling. Yeah. I just heard it constantly. It seemed like constantly. Did you hear that in boot camp? Did you hear that in infantry? Did you hear it when you got with Fifth Marines? You know, I'm not sure.

I'm not sure. I didn't hear it. I don't think I heard it in boot camp, but I'm not sure. That's a good question. Yeah, it's weird because different units, they kind of develop their own little languages, you know? Yeah. And you don't.

To me, because I really, I've done a lot of reading of military books. and that you just saddle up as we're getting ready to go. And you used it a lot. So I figured it maybe at that time with this group, you know, maybe it was a colonel, maybe it was the gunny, you know, someone that has that word, that they kind of inculcate into the platoon. Yeah, it could be.

It could have been. It could have been because we had some old salts, you know. We had an old sergeant major. It had been in all three wars. And, yeah, so we had some real old salts. 10 minutes later, you're in the back of a deuce and a half. Just driving up Highway 1 towards away. I think no one pictures that.

You know, it's funny, when we were before 9-11, we would do like training missions, and we would get in the back of deuce and a halfs and drive out to our target. But we would call them helo trucks, meaning this is just simulating a helicopter because we would never just drive, It didn't make sense that we would just drive a vehicle to a target.

Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. And then the actual war started. I was in it. I never, I never rode a helicopter to target. I only rode vehicles. Whether it was deuce and a half, six buys, or Humvees, that's what we, that's what we did. So here you are showing up and in the back of a deuce to half.

Yeah. And as you go down Highway 1, you know, there'd be other vehicles that have been blown to bits off the side of the road. Yeah, you got a real feel for what's covered. They have sandbags in the bottom of the vehicle? Some of them did. Yeah, some of them did. But not very many.

Yeah. We would put steel plating on the sides and we'd line the bed with sandbags just to try and give some survivability. Luckily, they're just huge, just big vehicles. But you hit the wrong kind of IED, it doesn't matter. Well, those, you know, those numb, it was. guys that rode the guard trucks for the big tankers and stuff. Most of them were Army, I think.

But they were famous for, as a matter of fact, they helped, I guess, guys in Iraq, the military. They taught them some of the lessons they'd learned. But there's a neat thing on the history channel of the truckers of Vietnam, and it shows what they did. I mean, they did things that, of course, with the Army, the Marine Corps, we didn't have this. they got many guns and you know they got everything on the back of a freaking truck and it was it was a bad truck I mean they put they was and it and they would they would you know like like you guys did they put metal on the sides and it had sandbags all over the place and uh but yeah I wasn't I wasn't any part of that I you know I was always out in the bush You end up

You're going to get bridge duty Meaning watching a bridge And someone says It's skate duty, slack duty You don't have to hump through the bush Except for a few patrols And sometimes you get beer or coax off the trucks going by Take advantage of it, man

It won't last long You'll know what war is when you start Humping 30 clicks a day in the bush With two hours sleep a night Fast forward a little bit 20 questions later We pulled off the road in the outskirts of the city Spiratic gunfire echoed from somewhere up ahead

an old gunnery sergeant ran by our truck shouting get off those trucks and spread out move it move it The there's a little bamboo hooch that ends up being your battalion headquarters And then it's I'll go to the book here a tall lanky character spotted red first his pitted face opened into a wide Ugly smile as he ran up with his hand out he smelled worse than he looked you big mother He shook Red's hand and slapped him on the back man you missed some real heavy crap how was the hospital getting he cross girls it's good to see you sam i thought i heard you were out here a young officer looked as if he were just out of college stood grinning at the door of the hooch have you been lieutenant red gave a casual salute a lot better now the lieutenant came forward with his handout they exchanged a quick

firm handshake who do you have with you the lieutenant looked at me boots said red oh three 31st outstanding sam take red and those two down to the chief squad so we turn to follow the ugly Lee Sam, I noticed something was pinned to his camouflaged helmet cover. Whatever it was, it was covered with flies. I moved closer to get a better look. It was an ear. A human ear. It looked brittle and baked grayish

green from the sun. I wanted to ask him about it, but I hesitated trying to remember his name. Sam, I said, before I got another word out, the lieutenant started speaking. And Red, send that stupid mortar man back to mortars before he kills himself with a gun. Break in the boots. They're your new gun team. Sam, I said again. Is that an ear pinned to your helmet?

Yeah, man, I used to have more, but they drew too many flies. I saved this one to suck on. Want to lick? I laugh, no thanks. While I do, he took his helmet off and unpinned the ear, then stuck it in his mouth and sucked on it like a lollipop. I don't even know what my face looked like, but my mouth had no response. Even Chan was left speechless. He was nuts.

Yeah, he was nuts. But I tell you, that nutty guy, he was there when you needed him. You know, he wasn't going to run. Where was he from? I think he was from North Carolina. I'm not sure, but I think he was, yeah. But I'm not positive. Yeah.

But he was crazy, but he was so brave, you know, just you wanted him on your side. You know, and he could hit anything with that blooper gun. He could hit anything with the M79. I saw him hit an NBA officer one time, square in the forehead, and he shot him, but it was so close, or for some reason, it didn't explode. Didn't arm. Yeah, it just was embedded in his head. Sam thought that was the funniest thing you'd ever seen in his life, and we're all standing around, and a lieutenant, you know, goes, you morons, that thing can still go off. because it hadn't exploded.

So, yeah, Sam was, he was good. He could hit anything with that silly blooper gun. Sam, Sam the blooper man is his nickname. Yeah, there used to be this shirt. So, you know, one of the, I guess, mascots of the SEAL teams is this thing, Freddie the Frog. It's like a little frog-man-looking thing. And guys would sometimes have little pictures that had Freddy the Frog inside of a glass,

like under Glass and it says, in case of war. or break glass. And that's a real thing because, you know, a guy like Sam who might not do very well back in regular the world, you know, he's probably going to be getting fights. He's probably going to be drinking, gambling, doing what he's going to be wild. In jail. Yeah, in jail. But if you're in war, you want and need people like that.

Yeah. It's true. It's true. Yeah. And I don't know if they seem to gravitate towards the Marine Corps. Some of them anyway Yeah, there's so many great characters that you introduce in the book Get the book so you can get them all

But Sam's one of them Back to the book here Suddenly a machine gun opened up from the city I hit the ground with a splash When I opened my eyes I discovered Chan and I were the only ones ducking The rest of the squad stood looking over the cement wall And laughing, Chief Red shouted That's a 50, I thought the city was cleaned up

You thought wrong, a deep voice answered It belonged to a tall, dark-skinned corporal with a nose like a Romans and a chin that looked like it had been cast from iron. Though the closest I'd ever been to a real Indian was Tonto, even I could tell this guy was the real thing. He was the only one not laughing. There's still a couple of 50s left. They chained them to the walls so they couldn't run. They're too doped up to surrender. The big Indian looked bored.

So there's another character that's in this whole story is this guy. guy chief. Swift Eagle. Swift Eagle. Sounds like he's right out of central casting. It was his real name, too. Yeah. I didn't believe it until he proved it. He gave me crap over my name, Johnny. A little Johnny.

What are you doing in the Marines, Johnny? You know, give him, and so I'd give him grief back. And nobody in this world is named Swift Eagle. So you're probably running cat or something, you know. And I would give it, we'd go back. Well, he had a paycheck and had his name on his paycheck. It was, his real name was Swift Eagle. Where was he from?

Do you remember? That, people have asked me that, and we tried to track him down, you know, after NOM. Guys, everybody to look for him. And the last word anybody, somebody had looked for him, I think they got a, they got somebody professional looking for him. And the last place he had been documented. and it was in Miami. But he was from, I always thought he was from one of the Western tribes.

You know, I thought he was out west somewhere. But one of the guys, one of my buddies said, they thought he was Cherokee. They thought he was from the other half of the country. So I'm not sure. Well, hopefully somebody listened to this. Oh, the guys in the outfit. They've been looking for him for years. Yeah, nobody's been able to find him.

Swift Eagle. Fast forward a little bit. Early the next morning, the company's bouncing down Highway 1 away from Way City. You stop at a large old steel bridge. The big Indian corporal jumped out of our truck and started shouting, Troy Bridge, second platoon, get out, move it, move it,

hurry up, you're making a great target. And this is where you end up being for a while. I mean, when I was getting ready for this podcast, I was just going circling whole pages of things to read because there's so much in here. This is up. You guys settle in for the night. The darkness was shattered by three violent explosions. One right after another.

Bullets of fluorescent red light rifled through cracks of the boarded up windows. I was instantly awake. I scrambled for my rifle and got to my feet waiting for instructions. Another series of explosions shook the building. The door was yanked open, bringing in more red light and filtering through, clouds of dust. Confusion filled the room. Someone screamed mortars. Two men ran out the open door. The slow, fluctuating rhythm of an older machine gun opened up with long bursts. Shouting Vietnamese ran by the door. A loud voice screamed, guns up. I thought I saw red dart through the door and into the

eerie red light. I followed him into a world of chaos. Vietnamese were running in all directions. Panic had overwhelmed the compound. And Arvin ran into me, entangling the bearer. of his rifle in my machine in my machine gun ammo belts as we struggled to free ourselves our faces came together for one terrifying moment he stared into my eyes and screamed vc he pulled his rifle away and sprinted in the opposite direction from the bridge my instinct said to follow him but just then another flare popped to open above the bridge and i saw red running into the back door of a cement machine gun bunker 20 meters in front of me behind me on top of the three-story sandbag bunker an old 30-calibre machine gun was going crazy, raking every inch of the surrounding barbed wire.

Another machine gun opened up from the sandbag bunker on the cement piling under the center of the bridge. Arvin's manning positions on the south side of the bridge stopped firing and ran wildly to the other side, dropping their weapons as they went. The only Arvin returning fire was the gunner on the three-story bunker. The rest were in retreat. A blast of M-60 fire from the cement bunker blew one off the bridge. I ran to the door of the bunker and screamed in at Red.

You're shooting at Arvins. Shut up and feed the gun. I dropped my M16 and linked a belt of ammo as fast as my shaking hands would function. Two more red flares popped open over the bridge, revealing shadowy figures, crawling through the wire directly to our front on the opposite side of the road. I could see more shadows turning into people on the south end of the bridge. Red started firing 20-round burst southwards. I tried to fire at the men coming through the wire into our road.

our front, but my weapon wouldn't work. A ripping explosion behind us caused Red to cease firing. Another explosion to our right popped my right ear. My ear started ringing. My head felt like I was inside of a bass drum. I felt warm blood trickle out of my ear and down onto my neck. Red, I screamed. Red couldn't hear me through the constant blast around us. The bunker filled with dust and smoke. Red, I screamed as I shook his arm. My rifle won't work. Take the safety off, boot. I felt for the safety. It was on. God, what an idiot. Now the M-60 on the cement piling opened up on the south end of the bridge. Hundreds of muzzle flashes erupted from the blackness. I put my rifle on full automatic and started filing. No, you idiot, Red screamed. Semi-automatic home. You'll run out of ammo.

Link up more ammo. Quick. Red started firing as I linked up another belt of ammo. A series of explosions started pounding the north side of the bridge. Then explosions walked down the road in 10-yard intervals slowly zeroing in on the three-story bunker. Red screamed, mortar. Red screamed, mortars and started firing on the south end of the bridge. Shrapnel slapped against the side of our bunker and the red light died. Red stopped firing. Enemy muzzle flashes illuminated the darkness like hundreds of deadly lightning bugs. Suddenly the explosion stopped. Then the night was silent. A green flare popped up above the bridge and swung down slowly under its tiny parachute. Five men sprinted onto the bridge from the south end. I couldn't see any weapons. Another flare burst more light on the battle. Now I could see that. each had satchel charges taped to his chest and back. Sappers, Red screamed and opened fire on the five men now weaving toward the center of the bridge. The M60 on the cement piling in the 30 caliber opened up on the sappers at the same time. Red did.

Orange tracers ricocheted in a thousand directions as bullets bounced around the five sappers, yet they kept coming. Then the three dropped at the same time. One of them struggled back to his feet. His legs were cut from under him again. He began crawling toward the center of the bridge. The remaining two staggered like drunks, jerked spasmodically as the machine guns found their mark and finally collapsed. Suddenly our position came under murderous small arms fire from directly across the road.

Pieces of cement and dirt stung my faces, bullets chipped away at our bunker. Wining lead tore through the gunslits. It looked like the flashes of another hundred rifles were firing straight at us. Red ducked bumping helmets with me. My stomach pressed against my spine. I mumbled a quick prayer. Lead smacked against the outside wall of the bunker. Bullets flattening with solid thuds ripped away precious inches that was keeping us alive.

Then the firing stops. We peeked through the gunslits in time to see another group of five sappers jog onto the south end of the bridge. I started firing this time single shot. I hit one. I knew I hit him, but he kept coming. I hit that sucker. Go for the legs, Red screamed as he opened up again. They're doped up.

You got to knock him off their feet. They're inside the wire. Red pointed as he yelled over the clamor of the screaming NVAs. Silhouettes moved across the road towards our road. right, shoot anything that moves. I knew the position to our right were being overrun. Self-torturing thoughts of hand-to-hand combat darted through my mind. I'd rather get shot than bayoneted, I thought. God, I hate knives. A fleeing Vietnamese ran by our door. Red turned and fired a burst through the opening, dropping two Arvins five feet from the bunker. I couldn't believe what was happening.

I stared at the dead Arvin for a couple second until Red started firing again. I only watched the tracers of the M-60 ripping to the sappers on the bridge. Only three still stood. The others tried to crawl forward. At the center of the bridge, just over the piling where the M60 team was still firing, the three sappers put their arms around a steel support. Five seconds later, a violent explosion lifted the huge steel superstructure into the air. It surged 10 feet above the cement piling, twisted slightly, and crashed back down on the gun team. For 20 seconds, the firing ceased as if the climactic destruction had ended the battle.

Then an American began screaming in pain from the bridge. Until that moment, I hadn't been sure it was a Marine gun team out there. Chan. Red slapped me across the face. It's not Chan. It's a cap unit. They work with the Arvins. The voice of the dying Marine drifted through the damp night air.

I felt more helpless with each piercing moan. Red, we got to do something. The firing started again. Red opened up on muzzle flashes across the road. I linked more ammo with each low in the shooting. The torturous calls for help from the wounded Marine ripped at my sanity. Red slapped me hard on the back, then patted my helmet. Charlie will ditty mal now before daybreak.

It'd be suicide to go out any sooner. What's ditty mal mean? He'll run. Charlie has two chances against us in daylight, slim and none. And then this puff the magic dragon, the C-130 shows up. During the next two hours, sporadic exchanges of fire continued, but as daybreak neared the shooting slackened to an occasional sniper round, the first shafts of sunlight brought a command from the Indian corporal. Listen up.

I couldn't see where the voice was coming from, but it was loud and clear. This is Swift Eagle. I'm going after him. The big Indian was on the bridge before I even spotted him. The wounded Marine had stopped calling for help an hour ago, but I still had hope. The Indian moved quickly and gracefully like a cat. Then he jumped from the twisted bridge to the piling and out of sight. A few moments later he reappeared.

I knew the man was dead. I expected to see hundreds of dead NVA scattered about as the sun grew brighter, but this is my first lesson on just how good the enemy was at dragging away the dead and wounded. Every inch of me itched, a layer of gritty sand mixed with sweat that felt more like glue had somehow covered my body. I wanted to see the dead men. I had to find Chan.

Johnny, a voice that brought joy and relief to my heart resounded across the compound. Red, that's Chan. Chan, I screamed through the door of the arid bunker. I ran out of the bunker and into a bear hug that nearly crushed my ribs. Well, I'm sure glad you're okay. I escaped the bear hug to see who was talking. It was the big Indian. This guy bugged me all night worrying about you, the chief said.

We've been together since boot camp, I said, feeling a bit embarrassed. He's like my brother. Chan removed the smile from his face and went back to looking sophisticated, looking too sophisticated for a show of emotion. Well, he said, as he took one step back and straightened his flag jacket, I did promise your mother I'd keep you from doing anything foolish. Let's go, Swift Eagle said. Where?

I asked. A body count. We followed the stone-faced Indian to the perimeter wire. There and around the bridge and compound we counted 64 dead NVA. We found one wounded in both legs by machine gun fire. He was taken prisoner. Out of the 15 Marines killed, 12 were from the Civil Action Patrol unit. I didn't know any of them, and I was glad I didn't.

I never heard how many Arvins died. The official report says that the Troy River Bridge was attacked and overrun by an estimated 300 NVA regulars and 100 sappers. The bridge was destroyed by suicide squads carrying satchel charges. It says nothing about the Arvins falling asleep on the lines and then abandoning fortified positions. There were two guys that got killed that night that I didn't have in the book. They were, one was Rosalie, Corporal Rosalie and Tedesco.

and both them were corporals and both of them were they were old salts. They didn't know me, you know. But they were, they had finished Way City. As a matter of fact, Rosalie had been put up for a battlefield commission in Way City. But their tour was up and they're both going home, you know, and they're 13 months. And that was saying something if you last 13 months. But they were supposed to go home.

They were at Fubine. They were supposed to fly out, and they decided to come out to Troy Bridge and say bye to the platoon. And they got there and were hanging out with the guys. They brought in some beer. Then the bridge got hit. And Tedesco and Rosalie tried to get out to that machine gunner on the bridge, and they were both killed. I actually worked with a colonel Tedesco in the Battle of Ramadi. he was the colonel in charge of the 137.

Outstanding. Outstanding. I'll have to review and see if there's any relations there. It's not a very common name, Tedesco. This, seeing the, seeing the Arvin flee like that. Did you have any expectations that they were going to be better soldiers than they showed to be on this occasion? Well, you know, I had no reason to think they wouldn't, but, you know, I found out pretty quick. That was pretty common.

They were pretty bad about that. I mean, there were some good Arvin units. There was a, the Arvin Marines, I was told, were pretty good. Well, I never saw them, but I was told they were pretty good. And so there were, there was some good ones, but yeah, they, yeah, not, not too good. And what was this like your fifth day in Vietnam, your sixth day in Vietnam, something like that? Yeah. But this was, you know, this story, this, Big Red. I mean, this is really about Big Red. This is Big Red's story. He

I mean, he's the one who did everything. This guy was, I was just a warder. You know, I mean, other machine gunners would have just stopped firing. You know, guys, I mean, there comes a point where you just stop firing.

Red, Red never stops firing. He would just go until they killed him. And he did. And he did. Yeah, that story's about red. Seeing this massive attack, and this is a big attack by any standards, you know, if you have, you know, three or 400 enemy attacking,

you must be thinking yourself, is this what is going to be happening on a regular basis? And by the way, you also got told that this is slack duty, watching the bridge, real easy, no, don't worry about anything. Yeah. So like a contradiction here to have this go down. Well, it was supposed to be, you know, if you, If you have bridge duty, of course, we weren't the only ones that happened. A bunch of Marines, a place called Liberty Bridge, had bridge duty.

And they were, I think almost all of them were killed. Like 40 guys died, 48, something like that. But a lot of them died because they had, it was early on, it's before I got there. And they had the M16s that had just been issued. And they all jammed. And when they found these guys, they had just used. used those M16s as it's baseball bats. They were a piece of crap.

You know, they changed the bolt in the M16 around 1968. It might have been earlier. I don't know the exact date. But the bolt they had in it in the humidity of Vietnam would warp. You know, we're in the water all the time. And, you know, you can't have a bolt that's going to warp. And so by the time they fixed it, a lot of guys died because that, M16 was a piece of crap.

But they got better, you know. And you, would you carry, you'd carry the ammo when you were an A gunner? Yeah. You're carrying the ammo and you'd carry your own M16? Yeah. And the 60 gunner. And usually as a gunner, I'd carry 45. Yeah.

And the gunner himself is carrying just the M60. He's not carrying an M16, is he? No, just the 60. Yeah. 24 hours later, Troy Bridge was the CBs were out there and they're constructing a pontoon bridge

and then 48 hours later they're starting the permanent bridge so CB's getting in the game. Another guy named Stryker, another character you got here. You say he wasn't overly friendly. He's distinguishing characteristic was a huge black mole positioned right between his eyes. And at one point,

you he has like a disagreement kind of an argument you have a little argument with him and it's about chan and i'm just going to go to the book you got something against chan or god i don't know about i don't know either one i ain't sure i trust people who sit around reading bibles i don't trust people who don't my tone wasn't friendly nor was it the look nor was the look that went with it don't tell me you believe in that crap too he laughed i felt my face getting flushed. I looked at Stryker's tanned arms and chest. He was lean and mean just like most Marines. It was going to be a good fight, I thought. I stood up slowly. Stryker looked a little nervous as I reached my feet, still not taking my eyes off him. Johnny, I turned away from Stryker to see

Red standing behind me holding a deadly green Claymore mine in one hand and a small roll of wire and the other. Come over here a minute. He walked, he walked me a few feet away from Stryker and began speaking quietly. I saw what you were thinking. Don't do it. I started to explain and don't bother explaining. I overheard some of it. It doesn't matter what a jerk striker is. You don't make enemies in the bush. You've heard of fragging. If somebody wants to blow you away out there, all they have to do is drop a frag on you or shoot you in the back and say it was an accident and heat of battle. You hear what I'm saying? I nodded and we walked back to Stryker. I filed Red's warning permanently in my memory brank. I knew he was right.

So it's the Wild West, and also you've got to basically play political games for lack of a better way of saying it. If you make enemies with somebody and you're in a gunfight, the guy can kill you. It's true. It's true. And I want to tell you, right there is one of the things that I think if they sent us over as a unit where we've really trained together all through boot camp. and, you know, and machine gun school, you know, infantry school. If we did all that together, I think you grow closer. It builds a better bond.

But you're a new guy. Your new guys popping in, you know, and it just, I think it really hurt relationships, you know. I think you could depend on each other more if you knew each other better. You know, you're going to back a friend. But if it's some guy you don't really know, you know, things happen. And so I'm glad the Marine Corps doesn't do that anymore. And the Army too. I mean, I've heard some terrible stories about stuff like that.

Fragging was real. It wasn't wholesale or anything like that. Well, we'll get to it in the book. You got a fragging that takes place and we'll talk about that. Fast forward a little bit. How old are you, John? He handed me my flack jacket and spit out a shot of tobacco. 18, Gunny. Why?

Just curious, I got a boy with a baby face like yours. He's 18, too. He's in his senior year. Didn't you just finish high school? Yeah, I graduated last June. I started when I was five. When did you turn 18? He handed me my cartridge belt and canteens. I wondered what he had on his mind. This was the first time he'd ever talk to me. October 12. Did your parents sign for you to get in the core? Yeah, it took some fast talking too. He shot a stream in tobacco juice at a large antihil besides the bunker, then stepped up close to me. Put his right hand on my shoulder and stared me right in the eye. Deep wrinkles stretched across his tan forehead and all around his dark blue eyes. He suddenly looked very old and solemn.

You can't be 18 anymore, John. You have to think older if you want to come out of this hole alive. Do you know what I'm trying to tell you? I think so, Gunny. He bent over, picked up my helmet, and put it on me. There ain't many Marines better than Big Red. You do what he says when he says it. I was a real eagle too. That Indian is all marine. Watch him and learn. Is this as tough as World War II, Gunny? They told me you were on Iwo Jima. I was at Chosen Reservoir too. This war is the worst yet. We ain't trying to win and we ain't trying to lose. We could stop it in a month if we invaded the north. He took a couple quick steps as if he were too angry to stand still. Every war stinks, but I ain't seen this kind of stink before.

You stick close to red, you'll be okay. He slapped me on the back. Saddle up. I got a picture of Gunny McDermott in the book. You don't have the book with the pictures. And Big Red, you know, a lot of these characters say, I found their photos here and there. Gunny McDermott was, he, they, he'd been,

they told me he'd been put up for the Medal of Honor after the last time I saw him, he was wounded pretty bad. And I want to talk about that story because it's pretty, it's really touching. You know, when he got wounded real bad, but another machine gunner lost both his legs, Jesus Quintana. And he ran up to Jesus. He was bleeding really bad. The gunny was bleeding really bad.

And Jesus just wanted one thing. He had his helmet had been blown off, of course. He said, get my helmet, and Gunny gets his helmet, and he says, okay, I get my Bible out of the helmet, and he opens his Bible for him, and Jesus goes, I'm going to make it. And he did, and Gunny told me that story later, because I, I had a, you know, we had a cover. I, you know, I had the other gun, at me and Chandler and the other gun, and now this whole gun team just got blown to bits. so I couldn't be there and watch it but Gunny told me that years later

and I told Jesus that and I don't even know if he remembered it but yeah gunnery Sergeant McDermott he died not too long ago and he he went back to Nam when we thought he was finished

he went to the States they made him a gunnery sergeant and at Paris Island or never mind they gave him I think he may be a, I forgot his rank. He was up a little bit higher, but he was a D.I. And they told him he could never go back to NOM. You know, the war was winding down kind of stuff, you know.

He got back to NOM and he was with an Arvin unit, as an advisor with an Arvin unit. And Samar and U.S. soldiers. And he got, he did something. I mean, he was a maniac. He was just totally gung-ho, crazy guy. We called him Gunny Magnet because he always drew lead. And he looked for lead.

But he did something with that Army unit and got put up for the Medal of Honor. And then he got in a fight. And they busted it down to a solar star. He was just Marines Marine. And if you see the picture of him, I think it's in that book. I mean, he looks like Clint Eastwood. You know, he looks the way you'd expect him to look. And he carried a, I got a picture of him in the book with his pump shotgun.

He's the only guy there that carried a pump shotgun. I love that guy, man. Yeah, and these comments that he makes about the comparison to World War II in Korea, this is something that reminded me, there's a guy named Colonel David Hackworth who wrote the book about face. Yeah. And he was in Korea, and he wasn't World War II. But he was in Korea and he was in Vietnam. And but he came in the army right after World War II and was underneath those, you know, the World War II veterans.

And he would say that definitely compared to Korea, he said Vietnam was, as horrible as Korea was and it's freezing cold and all the misery. He said Vietnam was worse. It was, I always found that interesting. And again, I'm not here to judge or, or. It makes any kind of determination. But I always kind of thought the jungle is a little bit nicer because, oh, the jungle, at least it's warm, you know, the worst case scenario, you know, you sweat. But then I think about the times when I was a young seal going out and training in the jungle. And we wouldn't do like you're doing.

We'll get to the book where you're doing 28-day patrols and all this stuff. The jungle's miserable. Oh, yeah. It's miserable. Oh, yeah. It eats you alive. You know, I went from 160 down to about, I don't. think I even weighed 120 the first time I got hit. But I'm still, I'm not sure if I would, Korea

was, you know, when I wrote, you know, some of my other books, I wrote about some of the, some other guys, and I wrote about a bunch of guys at the Chosan. And one of them was a guy named Wynne Scott. He was a machine gunner with Fifth Marines at Chosin. And they built their, they built bunkers out of frozen dead Chinese, you know, because they would freeze almost instantly. And all the guys, most of the guys in his outfit and his, in this one battle, they weren't wounded by bullets. They were wounded by bone fragments because incoming fire would hit these human bunkers, Chinese soldiers that they stacked into like, you know, like sandbags. And the bullets would hit, hit these dead Chinese and splinter off bones. And all these guys were getting, they're all,

had wounds, but they were bones. I didn't go through that. So, I mean, it's hard to compare wars, but I, in my own estimation, in my, I can't see anything worse than the Chosin. Yeah. I mean, I just think about the Chosin and holy mackerel, what those guys did there. Absolutely unbelievable. Yeah, it really is.

And I spent a lot of times with those guys. I was at the christening of the USS. Chosen. And that's where I met a bunch of these guys. I want to talk about some of them if we get a chance. Guys like Francis Hugh Colleen, he was the regimental bagpipes player.

In the 7th Marine Regiment at Chosen. I didn't even know we had bagpipes players. I did not know that either. It's news to me. Some of their stories, I mean, they're just incredible. Just incredible. I wrote a comedy of using a lot of his stories. It's called

Section 8. And it's about all these Marines who were Section 8 guys. You know, they're all crazy. And they were in China. And it's a nutty comedy, but the stories were true. These guys did this stuff. They did insane stuff. So he was chosen as a bagpiper?

At what point he had pickable rifle like the rest of them? Well, his lieutenant got the Medal of Honor. I think his name was Mitchell. But when the Chinese first entered the war, and I can't remember the name of it, you know, where it was, but it's in the book. But when they first entered the war, the Marines were all online, you know, and somebody shoots up a flare,

you know, they thought they heard something out there, and they start shooting up flares, and he said, he thought the mountains were moving, you know, and the flares, the mountains looked like they were moving. And it took them a while to realize the mountains were moving. That was that many Chinese coming over the mountains. And so they start shooting up flares, of course. And this lieutenant, the Chinese would signal their troops with horns and whistles.

And so the lieutenant, this lieutenant Mitchell, got really pissed off about hearing all these horns and whistles. And he said, get that damn clarinet player up here. And it was it was Gunny Killeen. So Killeen comes up there with his bagpipes that starts playing the bagpipes in response to all these horns and whistles. and he promptly got the bagpipe shot through his throat. And he had cancer in his throat when I was interviewing him and spending time with the guy. And he had to write everything in letters because he couldn't talk much anymore. So he wrote it all to me.

And he was the most Irish Marine. Even in his letters, he would say stuff like, now Johnny Milat, it may have dawned on you. How does a man defecate when his 30-70 below zero? You know, and he said, this, well, let me be telling you because it doesn't come out easy. And he would write all this stuff. He did the things these guys did.

Yeah, I mean, talk about colorful. I had to write, I had to write Section 8. It's all his stories, mostly his stories. So when you write in the book Section 8, is it a story kind of fact? Is it like, is it fiction based on the facts? It's fiction, but it's based on facts. And it's when the Marines were sent to China to help Shanghai Shek at 1946. And the communist, you know, were overpowered Czech, but the Marines were there supporting him.

And they were in Tintin China. Well, when the Marines came in, they took over this giant warehouse system. And that became their barracks. And it was their training area. You know, they had tanks. They had everything. The whole First Marine Division was sent there by, by troops. Truman, because he was trying to get rid of the Marine Corps.

He hated the Marine Corps. And he was trying to disband the Marine Corps. They all told me this, too, that some of the things, Truman, he's not a favorite of the Marine Corps. But so they took over Tenthen, China, and they took over this giant warehouse system, and that was their barracks and their training areas. But when they moved into Tension, these German, these German P-O, they had eight German P-O-Ws. They were German engineers who ran their. the city of Ten Chin for the Japanese.

Yeah, they were the brains behind this run in the city. So when the Marines came in and they took prisoners and they had these eight German POWs. So this Killeen, gutty clean and a couple other nutty cases in the Marine Corps broke these guys out of their own brig. They busted them out of their POWs. They put them in marine fatigues. They kept them in their big barracks. It was the North Asian Swedish Transfer Company. That was their barrack.

And they kept these Germans in their barracks, and they rented them to the city of Ten Chin. They made a profit off of them. Yeah, so they ran the city, and they would drive them to work, and they'd drive in and pick them up and bring them back. You can't make this up. I mean, these guys. So, anyway, that's part of Section 8. Yeah, and here you are, and you've got. got this gunny that was at Chosen.

I mean, that's just, that's incredible. Fast forward a little bit. There's the mortar attack that I actually opened the podcast with. That takes place. You hear the guns up, guns up. I got to my feet with my M16 and two belts of ammo for the machine gun. Red shouted gung ho at the top of his lungs and darted up the slight incline toward the crest of the hill. His shout went through me like a shot of adrenaline.

Suddenly I wasn't terrified anymore. The emotional high that comes with light when life, death is on the line swept all fear to the back of my mind. An odd sense of exhilaration, almost pleasure pounded through my system as we weaved across the top of the hill. More explosions behind me heightened the thrill. I was Superman and John Wayne. I could, nothing could stop this dash.

I heard myself screaming, ye high, like a cowboy on a bronco. I could see the lieutenant ahead pointing at another hill 100 meters to the south. Red hit the dirt and opened up on the hill. As quickly as it started, it stopped. the mortars ceased. We had no target. One man was wounded. Sudzy, the radio man called for a medevac. The wounded man's name was David Blaine. He was from Kentucky. His butt was peppered with shrapnel. He didn't seem to mind a bit. It was a painful ticket out of Vietnam. I felt a bit of envy. I started daydreaming of ticker tape parades and a hero's homecoming. Hey, John, that's a hardcore way to lighten your load.

I turned away from the bleeding marine who was calling me. It was red. He was holding something up and laughing. What is it? I move closer to inspect the object of his laughter. I think you need a new pack. Red tried to restrain the laughing when he saw that I didn't think it was all that funny. My pack was in shreds, a direct hit. My writing gear food and my little instomatic camera gone. Red gave me a helmet. I gave my helmet a couple of paths. Don't worry about it. You better thank God you didn't have it on. A sharp burning pain on my right thigh stung me so badly that I bent over. What's wrong with you? asked Red. I don't know. I felt a warm, slow trickle of blood running down my leg. Two small holes in my trousers near the groin

were the only evidence I needed. Red, I'm wounded. I've been hit. What? Where? Red dropped this pack. In a flash, he was kneeling on one knee in front of me. Unbutton your pants, stupid. Let me see how bad it is. I wonder why I didn't feel it sooner. It just happens that way sometimes. Wow, my own little red badge of courage. This could have been real tough on your love life. Are you hit anywhere else? Will I get a purple heart red? Are you sure you weren't hit anywhere else? What's this? He pointed to a tear in my left chest pocket. What's in that pocket? My Bible, pull it out.

I unbuttoned the flap of my pocket and pulled out the small Gideon Bible. A hole right under the word holy sent a stream of goosebumps down to my toes. The hole went three quarters of the way through the little book. A splinter sharp piece of shrapnel one quarter inch long

had made it all the way to the book of Hebrews. Could that have killed me? It took us an hour to find out what killed my last, A gunner. A tiny slid. of shrapnel went under the back of his helmet and into his brain. It was in his hair so he couldn't even find any blood, but it killed him. Will they medevac me? No way, not for those two little holes. Go see Doc, tell him to put something on it before it gets infected. I did what Red told me to do.

The doc, our cormon, tweezed out two splinters of shrapnel while I looked through my little wounded Bible. On the inside cover, someone had written a long passage in red ink. It was Chan's handwriting. I didn't know anyone else who could print that small. I wondered when he'd written it. I started reading it and each line made me feel a little better. Romans 835 to 39. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation or distress or persecution or famine or nakedness or peril or swore? Just as it is written. For thy sake we are being put to death all day long. We were considered as sheep to be slaughtered. But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through him who loved us.

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Romans 828. And we know that God causes all things to work together for good, to those who love God, to those who are called according to his purpose. So the Bible saved your life.

Yeah. In more ways than one. Yeah, in more ways than one. The little Bible, the little Gideon, was wrapped in plastic, you know, because it's the only way to keep anything dry. So I had a bunch of plastic around it that made it fatter. Fast forward a little bit. At 1900 hours, the 17-man column stopped. We dropped one knee and waited to be placed in ambush position.

Corporal Swift Eagle swept through the column, taking the three men at a time and quickly placing them in position for the night. When he finished, we had a textbook L-shaped ambush. Fast forward a little bit. Red woke me up with a stiff elbow to the shoulder. Do you see movement? Where I asked? Straight ahead.

Keep looking straight ahead. I strained to see what he was now aiming at. Then I saw movement. Shadowy figures silhouetted by evaporating light. looked to be moving 30 meters away. I felt myself trying to crouch lower as I took aim. I covered my mouth and whispered in the direction of the Marines on our left. Gooks. I started linking up ammo for the gun. Suddenly green tracers shot across our position from the left flank. Then another burst of fire came at us from straight ahead. Seven khaki-clad NVA appeared from the shadows in front

of us. They were led by an officer who suddenly ran toward us firing a pistol. The others carried AKs. They looked surprised, maybe as surprised as we were. A couple turned. and ran from us, but the others followed their leader. Red opened up first, making us the only real target they had. The officer was lifted off his feet and blown backward with the first 20 rounds. The gun stopped firing. I started firing my M16, but the targets disappeared. All firing ceased. I knew Red was hit. My face was wet with blood and it wasn't mine. He was slumped forward onto the gun. I rolled him off the gun. Two dime-sized holes sunk into one cheek. His eyes were open. lifeless and blue.

I could hear myself calling for a corpsman. My voice sounded dreamlike. For an instant I thought I was dreaming. I'd wake up and none of this had really happened. Swift Eagle flattened out beside me. He looked at the back of Red's head with no expression. Doc slid him beside us breathing hard. He's dead, Doc, Swift Eagle said.

Red? Yeah, put his poncho over him. I'll get an A-gunner for the boot. He only had a month ago, Chief. Doc's voice sounded far away. The night crept by sleeplessly, congested with weird, fully awake dreams of home, friends, and the Marine Corps. I felt numb. It started drizzling.

The sound always reminded me of French fries in a pan. By first light, it was still raining. The air smelled fresh and crisp. It was a state-side rain, not a normal pounding of rain of the monsoon that sounds more like war than war itself. Rain drops form tiny puddles on reds. Reds poncho. His huge Viking boots stuck out of the poncho like a blanket that's too small. I was thankful for the rain. It kept the ants and flies and hid my tears. Kept away the ants and flies and hid my tears. How could he be dead? Men like that just couldn't die. He told me

if you got past the first two months, you'd make it. I wanted to pray. I needed it now, but I just didn't know God well enough to do it right, I thought. Chan always told me you had to talk to him regularly if you wanted to get to know him. I missed Chan. I felt more alone than I could remember ever feeling. The others weren't crying. Maybe they didn't know yet. I remembered the gunny's warning about being 18. I looked around again and the lieutenants was walking my way. His young Annapolis face couldn't hide the loss. No tears, but he was frowning. He pulled back to poncho grimaced and covered him again you're the gunner now marine keep it clean every man here depends on it red said you do all right don't let him down how long into this deployment was this

uh how long was in his his deployment in your deployment oh let's see it was may 20th 1968. I got there, I think, April. I got there in April. So May, April. So it's something like a month, six weeks, something like that. Yeah, yeah.

March. No, I got there in March. So March, April, May. Yeah. I got there in March. I think it was early March. And now you're the gunner. They gave him the silver star,

I mean the Bronze Star 30 years. late. Fascinating story, once again, this book. This book's a miracle. I mean, we could talk for hours. I could tell you stories that this book is brought out of other people. And I mean, everything, kids in Ireland come into join the Marine Corps because they read this book.

You know, Lithuanian soldiers writing me because they read this book. It's crazy. It got published in Lithuanian. Lithuanian now. But one of the stories, I got up an envelope, a big old envelope full of newspaper articles. And I just came out of the blue, you know, and I opened it up. And it's all these stories. It's letters home from Vietnam that the Cincinnati Inquirer had done a series publishing, and it's all from this one guy, Richard Weaver. And see, I didn't even know Red's name.

You know, we're just, I didn't know people's names. I was the crazy gunner, you know, I doubt if they knew my name. We just had nicknames and Sam the Bluperman, you know, it's, but I'm reading these newspapers, these letters home, and I told Nancy, I said, you know, honey, this is, this is, these are my stories. I'm reading this. This is like the same stuff I was in. I go, this has to be somebody I know.

And so I finally contacted Cincinnati Inquirer, and I said, hey, look, I don't know who sent me this, this envelope of these articles, but I think I know this guy. And they said, yeah, we thought you would. There's some fans of guns up on the newspaper, and they've read it, and they've read these letters, and they thought this has to be the same guy that you write called Big Red. And I said, it is. And so anyway, I got a guy. I got. that graduated with Red from Indian Hills High School in Cincinnati. Red was the only guy from that high school that had died in NAM. And they had this guy, they didn't know what a hero he was. You know, like I said, he was raised by this old man. He didn't really have any family. They didn't understand what Red really was. So when they read this book, they found out another man named Lon Decker. He was Navy Vet.

He flew me to Cincinnati. One thing led to another. They built a monument to Red. Lawn even bought. He paid for a lot of this, but there's a big monument in a park now to Red. And they had a monument at his high school and they had a copy of guns up in it.

And then they had a parade. They gave him. It's just putting those memorials out. You know, we we do a lot of stuff where one of the things that I do is go to Gettysburg and talking about the the monuments at Gettysburg and how good it is for veterans to have those. And it doesn't really matter what war you're from. I agree. You can still put your hands on those monuments and think and pay tribute to

the heroes. So I'm sure there's some people that can do that in Cincinnati. Yeah. Richard Weaver's monument. Yeah. Yeah. What's the monument? Is it a statue?

Is it? The one in the park, I haven't seen yet. I was just told about it. But the one that was at his school was his medals, had all his medals on it. And, see, I've probably got pictures of it. But I forgot what it said, but it, you know, it gave his combat record and had his Purple Arts on there. He had three. But they didn't, they didn't, I mean, they had the Bronze Star on it then because it, you know.

But 30 years later, I think it was a congressman, Lon Decker again, his buddy got some. Yeah. He got a congressman to, you know, to look into it. Yeah. Well, it's good that he's getting recognized, even if it's late. And it's good to be able to, it's so awesome that you've made such a great tribute to him in the book. Yeah. And, yeah, to be able to sit here and talk about and more people to be able to hear about Big Red machine gunner.

Yeah. Yeah, it's, you know, the first guy I lost was a guy named Mark Lee. and he was the same, just a total stud that, you know, it was very, same type of thing. Like, you don't think a guy like this can be killed. Yeah. And he, Markley, he was also a machine gunner. And it's such a devastating, heartbreaking scenario to lose a guy like that. And what you reflect in the book is the reality of combat.

the war doesn't stop when you lose somebody. You still have to get your gear back on, and you're going to go back, and here comes your lieutenant, you know, telling you that you're, all right, you're the gunner now. That's, we're going to keep moving forward. We're to keep doing missions. So that's the, a lot of times people,

that doesn't get reflected or people don't think about that fact that just because you lose a guy doesn't mean the war, stops the war the enemy's going to keep coming and you're going to you're going to have to get your gear back on and you're going to have to keep going um and there's oftentimes there's not you know the the time to mourn isn't even a thing you know um and also i don't know that we're the best at it you know as americans you mentioned the irish earlier i i always bring up the irish because the irish seem to have a like a protocol on what to do when someone dies. Yeah, I don't follow it.

I'm Irish. Yeah, I don't follow it. But they have like a protocol. You know, we're going to have the wake on this day. We're going to get drunk on this day. We're going to bury in this day. And then we're going to kind of move on in America because we have so many, such a melting pot of different cultures, right?

Yeah. That's kind of lost. And I think that hurts because we don't really know how to properly, you know, mourn. go through the ceremony and then okay we've done what we have to do and now we move on we don't really have that the military we don't like i said don't get a chance to do it overseas maybe you'll have the you'll have some kind of a memorial service if you're lucky and then it's back to the fight yeah yeah um did you feel like you had the experience now that you'd been there for a month and a half to handle the big gun no no no i didn't

I felt, but I didn't have much choice. There was no choice. Fast forward a little bit. John, this is PFC Doyle. He's boot. He's 0331, so he'll be your A-gunner. Teach him what he asked to know as fast as you can. The lieutenant turned and walked away before I could speak.

I knew my mouth was hanging open as I stared at PFC Doyle in disbelief. Teach him what he asked to know. It kept echoing through my stunned brain. I didn't know any more than he did, I thought. My God, if there was ever the blind leading the blind. Hi, Doyle stuck out his hand. I shook it and a nervous but friendly smile pushed up his fat cheeks. He sure didn't look much like Marine.

I'd never seen anyone out of boot camp with that much baby fat. Had to be a Hollywood Marine, I thought. Your MOS is 031, I asked. Yep, that's me. He pushed his glasses back on his pug nose and then promptly slid back down. slid back down and they promptly slid back down. I tried to remember some of the things Red told me. Well, the most important thing you have to remember is this.

When you hear guns up, make sure you're on my tail no matter what. What was Doyle? Tell me a little bit about Doyle. Just young kid? Yeah, just a kid. He was barely any, probably about the same age as me. You know, he was a kid. And he was beefier.

You know, everybody, you lose so much weight in Nam. I mean, there were no beefy guys. Nobody was beefy. And so him coming right in, you know, he still had that stateside fat on him. And he was from Colorado. And he was a great guy, you know, really fun, funny guy. Everybody really liked him. But he had glasses.

And I just, honestly, I just don't know how anybody, could get through non with glasses. It was, you know, it was tough. I mean, you could, I don't know how you could do it. I don't know how you could do it, but he did it. And then when he lost him, you know, one time, he lost him. He ran into a B-52 crater, and he couldn't find his way out. And he couldn't find his glasses.

And, of course, the monsoon rains had filled this B-52 crater. It was like a giant swimming pool. and you know how big B-52 craters are they're huge I mean you can put a house in some of those craters and he was he was stuck down in there in the middle of a firefight

and he's trying to get out and it's all mud and he doesn't have now I can't find his glasses and what a nightmare it wasn't any fun for me either because at the time I you know I was taking a lot of fire

you needed an ammo yeah I did but he was a great guy a great marine. Fast forward a little bit. Sam the blooper man. What a character, Doyle said. He told me not one machine gunner has rotated out so far.

He carefully adjusted his glasses over one ear at a time and looked me in my eyes for the truth. What? I stalled. He said since he's been here, not one gunner has done his 13 months and rotated home. Is it true? I guess so. They told me the same thing. Doesn't that bother you?

I try not to think about it, but sometimes it sneaks up on me. How can you not think about it, Snap Doyle? Not all those gunners are dead. Most were probably just wounded. To tell you the truth, that's what scares me more than dying.

I don't want to go home without any legs. I just as soon die. That's enough of this crap. If God wants you, you're going one way or another. I guess that's true, but being a gunner seems to be a surefire way of rushing the process.

Yeah, that's not the best debate of saying, well, look, most of those gunners aren't dead. Most of them are only really badly wounded. I don't think that gave me any security. Yeah. Well, it's kind of hard to cheer somebody up when you're trying to cheer yourself up at the same time. Fast forward a little bit. We stumbled along a rocky trail as the deepening night replaced any vision left over from the dust. Doyle and I were in the center of a 16-man column.

the position from which we could respond to guns up from either end. It was on nights like this that I relished the best part of being a gunner. I never walked point and I never walked tail. That was the first time I thought of that too. So at least you didn't have to walk point because you had the pig. Yeah. Yeah. Without warning, successive cracks of AK-47 fire reverberated from the front of the column.

Quickly, the firing increased until it sounded like we'd made contact with a battalion. Everyone instinctively hit the ground. Doyle had a grasp on my foot. He repeated, oh God, oh God, in a panic. Bullet ricocheted all around, whining as they went overhead and thudding into the earth nearby. Guns up, guns up, guns up. The call sounded more urgent as each man picked up and passed it back. I was already moving, crouching, stumbling, and running into the darkness ahead.

I felt an arm under my foot. Then a curse. I started up a small knoll. Now I could see muzzle flashes. Get down. Lay down some fire. It sounded like the lieutenant's voice. I fell to the ground just on the other side of the small knoll and started firing it.

flashes directly ahead. Immediately more flashes opened up from our left. I carried a 50 round belt in the gun at all times. The ammo was gone quickly. I turned and screamed for more. No one was here. Doyle, I need ammo. Enemy fire increased on our flank. I tore a hundred round belt from around my shoulders and loaded the gun. And any machine gun opened up on the left flank and a bit below us. Our high ground was saving us. I started firing at the enemy gun, hitting low first, then walking my tracers up to the target. The green tracers of the enemy arched high into the dark sky, then ceased. You got him, someone shouted. Bullets thudded and flattened all around me. I crawled back over the knoll for cover and then a sudden uncontrollable, unaccountable silence cloaked the battlefield.

I wasn't sure which was worse. At least when they were shooting, I knew where they were. We backed up 20 meters moving like blind men to our new position. There we sat in a perimeter and waited nervously for the safety of sunlight. I passed word around the perimeter for Doyle. He finally showed up mumbling something about falling into a hole. I decided to wait until morning to talk about his disappearance. Part of me wanted to punch his lights out, but I knew I should give him a chance to explain. I wanted him to know that men had been shot for less in Vietnam. Morning finally arrived. I woke him up with a solid thump to his helmet. You better have a good reason, you fat little. I fell into a crater. One of those B-52 craters. It knocked my

glasses off. By the time I found up, we stopped firing. I pondered his excuse, trying to to see a lie in his face. Honest, he said, holding up his right hand as if he was swearing in. I want to believe you, Doyle. I almost got killed last night because I didn't have an A-gunner. Life and death are about a hair apart in this armpit of the world. You have to be dependable. I am, I swear, I fell in a hole.

I paused, staring at his dirty, chubby face. Okay, I'll drop it. I wanted to believe Doyle. I liked him. He was a little scared of being a gunner, but he was quick to laugh and as jolly as a man could be over here. New guy. New guy.

Chan, Chan's back. I'm taking over as your A-gunner. I'm taking over as A-gunner, Doyle Chan said. The lieutenant informed me that you're now assigned to the chief squad just temporarily until some replacements arrive. Then you're back with us. I couldn't tell if Doyle was glad or sad. So Chan comes back as your A-gunner again.

Yeah, he got sent away to... Oh, that's right. Language school. Language school. Yeah, because he was smart. You know, he was, he could pick up languages pretty quick because he had a big brain. But he, he, he, they sent him to China Beach for the language school. And, uh, China Beach, you know, I mean, that's like R&R for us.

I mean, they'd still get rockets and stuff, but, you know, it was R&R for us. And, uh, so, of course, we rassed him to death. You know, I mean, he just been in a, he came back all healthy, he'd gained some weight, you know, And he could speak a little bit of Vietnamese now. And it paid off a little while later. You know, we got a couple of prisoners, and Chan was able to actually talk to him a little bit. They thought he was one of them.

They thought, yeah. If you called Chan Vietnamese, Arvins made that mistake a couple of times. If one of the Vietnamese called Chan, same, same me. We had to pull him off him. I mean, he would kill him. It was like the ultimate insult. And, you know, I said, okay, okay.

Take it easy to share. Fast forward a little bit. 20 minutes later, our packs were on our backs heavy with new food. We got more ammo than we wanted to carry. I felt 10 pounds heavier as we began to walk. It started raining. An odd glow covered the mountains to our front, a yellowish tint like that given by the two.

sheep sunglasses. Then the yellowish tint disappeared as an enormous black and gray clouds rolled sheets of rain across the mountain peaks. The rain lashed against our tiny columns so powerfully that for an instant we stopped shielding our faces. The rain changed from lukewarm to ice cold. By nightfall, the pounding storm had beaten against my helmet until all I could feel was a concussion-sized headache. We crossed a swift chest-deep river carrying our weapons above our heads. Once on the other side, word filtered, filtered back to set up a perimeter. Chan and I sat down shivering in the mud. That's always, again, you don't really think of that, freezing cold.

I think people in the military can find the discomfort. Like you're in a jungle and you're freezing. Yeah, yeah. Well, you're wet. You're wet all the time, you know. Wet, cold, and miserable. Fast forward a little bit. We caught up to the column as it moved back toward the river.

A violent thunder clap followed closely behind each brilliant streak of lightning. We started back across the jungle river. This time the water reached my chin. Fast forward a little bit more. I stopped and looked back on this patrol. I stopped back and look at Chan's face. You know where the last ones in the column. What's the matter with you?

Chan gave me a little shove. Keep moving. I was beginning to think his normally witty mind was waterlogged. Five yards later, He tapped me again on the shoulder. Chan, I don't pass the word up. We picked up an extra squad. His voice was calm, too calm.

I peaked over my shoulder. What'd you say? We picked up an extra squad. I looked back. And sure enough, you guys had a enviable. It was, I mean, this is a one in a million bad thing that could happen, but it really happened. We crossed this river a couple of times because I don't know why, you know, I never knew what was going on. We'll blame the lieutenant. Yeah, the lieutenant. Well, he, he knew where we were going,

but I never did. So we went back and forth across this river, and, but one time we dug in. And, I mean, while we were digging, the monsoon was so heavy, our holes were, I mean, we'd fill them with water. You could drown if you fell asleep. I mean, it was, you know, it'd fill up. Monsoon rains, or, you know what they're like. I mean, God. So we got the word. there's an NVA battalion coming this way. Well, we were one platoon. I mean, we've just, so somebody said, pack up. We're going back across the river.

You know, we're trying to find all our crap in the water and the mud, and I got the machine gun, you know, and all that ammo. It's a mess. We'd get our packs. By the time we got up and moving, we were tail in Charlie. So we crossed the river and we came up. What we didn't know is this trail on the other side. side of the river, evidently, their column had gotten split up in this monsoon rain, too.

And so we came up in the middle of their column. And nobody knew. We didn't know. They didn't, the guys up front didn't see anybody. I didn't see anybody. And then Chan finally says, yeah, there's pith helmets back there, man. They're not ours because it would lightning every once in a while. And he caught flashes of lightning and saw those are American helmets. And yeah, so we literally were walking in the middle of a battalion of NVA. Fast forward a little bit. Prepare to fall off the side of the trail. Hit him as they pass.

So you guys are going to set up basically an ambush on these guys, just drop off the trail. Let them walk by and ambush him. My heart sank into my stomach. I passed the word to Chan. I tried to take the gun off my shoulder without being conspicuous. I only had a 50 round belt linked up. Striker fell off to the left of the trail. Then Jackson.

I dropped to the side of the trail. Chan followed. Chan pulled the pin on a grenade and held the spoon with his hand. I pointed the gun back down the trail and started praying all this mud and rain wouldn't jam it. Then the incredible happened. Fifteen meters back, the NVA fell off the side of the trail too. I didn't understand it. A shot of lightning hit a tree nearby.

Chan jumped nearly dropping the grenade. We looked at each other in disbelief. Jackson passed the word up. They dropped off too. A few moments later, the word came to move back out. Panic grit my stomach. I think I started to urinate. Either that or the rain was getting warmer.

I felt ashamed and tightened my stomach to stop myself. We stood up bowing our heads in an effort to look shorter and hide the shape of our helmets from the flashing thunder. I kept the gun on my hip this time. They're following. Chan's whisper sent visions of hot lead ripping through my back. What are we doing? If the lieutenant was back here, he'd come up with a better plan, then move on. Suddenly some grim possibilities came graphically clear.

We might be in the middle of an NBA battalion. I felt a tap on the shoulder. they're staying back about 20 meters. Why don't you walk backward and show off that Chinese face? He didn't laugh. The column veered right off the trail. We started moving faster. The train got steeper with each step.

We were going up a hill covered with thick brush and thorn bushes. Jackson voice came from the darkness head. Run for it. Run, Chan. The thorns tore through my trousers, ripping my soggy skin. Rain smashed against leaves and brush, sounding like grease in a frying pan. I stumbled and crawled and crawled and crawled. crawled and clawed up the dripping hill and near panic, sliding back one step for every two forward.

Near the top, Jackson struck out, stuck out his big friendly hand and pulled me up to him. Chan was right on my heels, still clutch clutching his grenade. Swift Eagle appeared beside Jackson. Hurry up, set up the gun. I fell to the ground and took aim back down the hill. The chief pulled the pin on the grenade and screamed, now. On that command, everyone threw grenades down the hill. I opened up with a gun, firing into the darkness, probably hitting nothing more than rain.

15 sharp explosions rattled the bottom of the hill, then silence. Only the rain could be heard. The night ended in a previous perimeter, in a nervous perimeter around the top of our newfound friend, an unknown hill in a land of unknown hills. The hot sun was more than welcome. The morning body search brought negative results except for Jackson, who found a nests of snakes. For no sane reason the day started by crossing the same river for a third time. We did it just in time, too. Some of us had almost dried out from the night before.

After three hours humping, we finally reached the first of the densely forested mountains that I had gazed at and curiously dreaded since my first day on the bridge. The temperature dropped 10 degrees when we entered the cover of the massive sheltering trees. We climbed up conspicuously well-used trail for 2,000 meters when the column stopped. You guys were marching all day, basically, all day every time. Yeah, we'd hump all day, set up ambushes all night. You know, that's all we do. And then sometimes in the middle of the night, you know, the word would come in like it did that night there.

There's an NBA battalion coming towards you. So word would come in and then we'd get up and hump at night. So it was nonstop. It was nonstop. And there's no way you couldn't lose a lot of weight. You know, and you get dysentery. You know, we'd go, I mean, more than once, we'd find a mess. mountain stream or a stream somewhere to get some water, fill up your canteens, you know,

and you're throwing down the halosone and the salt tabs and going upstream and there'd be five or six dead bodies laying in the stream. And you know you're going to catch every, and when the first time I got wounded, I had lost so much weight and they did all these tests. And I just found those old medical records the other day. I had every worm you could come up. I mean, I had hook worms and this worm and that. I mean, just full of worms. Yeah, I was a mess. So you keep patrolling.

At a point where the trail leveled off, we entered a tiny village of four grass huts. Inside the first, Sam found three half-empty bottles of Vietnamese beer and three bowls of rice. The second hut held two tons of rice, thousands of rounds of AK-47 ammunition, and enough C-4 plastic exploration. to blow up a major portion of the Nang. The third was empty, but the fourth was a big surprise of the day. The fourth was a shelter over a dirt stairway that led down into the side of the mountain. Candles were burning, providing the only light in the damp underground room, which looked

about 30 feet long and 15 feet wide. It was furnished with 10 bloodstained, six foot long wooden tables. Chan found a small wooden box filled with medical instruments, morphine, and bandages. Okay, let's get out. Lieutenant Campbell said we're going to blow it. We continue to search the area while demolitions were set. By 1,500 hours, we had crossed the same river for a fourth time and reached an area of rolling, rock-strewn hills with no trees in sight.

The temperature zoomed to well over 110 degrees with not a single cloud to slow its merciless rays. A faraway whistle stuck in my ear. I felt groggy from the heat. At first I thought I was hearing things, but it quickly grew louder, too loud to be my imagination. It became a shrill like a dog whistle. Whatever it was, it was coming in fast, bewilderably fast. The column stopped. We looked up.

All eyes gazing in dread, all mouths gawking and disbelief. I pulled my shoulders up trying to cover my head as my knee started to bend instinctively with the approaching whistle. Then I actually saw them. Three small black objects blurring by 20 feet overhead, forcing air out of their way like tiny jets. The site froze us in place. Then, like a rocket burning out, the sound stopped and a ripping explosion followed. Hit the dirt. Shrapnel wished by.

I clutched the shuddering earth. Rocks landed all around. More whistles. I could hear someone cursing. Sudzy. We haven't talked about Sudzy yet. Sudzy is your radio man. Yeah, his real name was Bob Carroll.

Okay. Where do you get Sudzy from? Do we know? Yeah, I use friends names. Got it. Yeah, this was a martial arts friend. Then the lieutenant, someone tugged on my foot. I pulled my face out of the dirt and looked back.

Chan's face was spotted with bits of loam that were sticking to a sweat. Did you see that? Yeah, I answered. I didn't know you could see artillery rounds. I didn't either, but it's illogical. Presuming your position in proximity, the people who he's always given on these verbose. The people who see him don't get to tell anybody. I interrupted precisely. You stupid son of a, you're shelling alpha company. Lieutenant Campbell's curse could have been heard and fru by without the aid of Sudzies radio. It was over. Someone cursed the Marine Someone else cursed Vietnam. Shots echoed through the steaming heat. I saw flashes on the crest of a barren hill 100 meters to the left. Guns up, guns up, guns up. I grabbed the gun and ran zigzagging toward the voice as little clouds of dust spit out of the ground around me. Then I heard the gun. That's an M60.

I dove to the ground, flipped the bipod legs down, and took aim at a wavering stream of orange tracers floating my way. Chan slammed to the earth beside me, knocking a solid grunt of the air. air out of him. I opened up. Chan linked up a belt of ammo like a pro holding it out of the dirt with his left hand and firing his M16 with his right. The enemy tracer stopped. I kept firing in 20 round bursts. We got him ducking. Chan shouted as he linked up another belt. Get him Johnny. Someone screamed nearby. Then yelped like a cowboy. Blow him off that hill. Cease fire. Cease fire. Cease fire. It's B company. They're Marines. Sudzy screamed. I released my sweaty. grip on the gun and my insides churned and panicked. Did I just kill any Marines? I shouted as I jumped

to my feet and ran at Sudzy. He kept talking on on the radio. Are they hit? I grabbed him by the shoulder. What's going on, Sudzy? They thought we were gooks. He turned from me and spoke into the field phone again. No, that's negative. No one was hit. Alpha Company. He looked back at me pulling the phone away from his mouth. They thought we were gooks. They called an artian opened up. That's brilliant. Just brilliant. Saddle up, Lieutenant Campbell shouted his grimacing face red with anger. Blue on blue. Yeah.

Yeah, you know, friendly fire. You know, but I, nobody died. Nobody died. I might have wounded somebody in B company, but nobody died. I had a friendly fire incident in Ramadi. And we, I had a group, an element of my SEALs were in a Overwatch position, actually with some, with some Iraqi soldiers as well. And basically there was some confusion on the battlefield. And one of my, my SEALs engaged, Iraqi soldiers killed one of them, friendly Iraqi soldiers, killed one of them, wounded a couple more.

It took a while to get it figured out. you know obviously huge investigation and all that to figure out what happened but the um there was a a seal officer who had been a Marine in Vietnam and he was in the tail of Way City and he talked to me and and you know a friendly fire like that in the seal teams especially in the 80s and 90s when there's no war going on is like unheard of right like that could never happen and here where here I was out on the battlefield with a company of U.S. Army soldiers actually a company plus of U.S. Army soldiers a company plus of Iraqi soldiers enemy fighters by the way right because there was all a bunch of insurgents running around I had four elements out there myself included all of us

engaging enemy and there's this is this kind of thing that can happen. happen. But what was the the this individual who is a who is a seal officer who is a marine in Vietnam, an enlisted Marine in Vietnam and he and he said hey I was at the tail in away city and there was all kinds of friendly fire incidents and he wasn't telling me that oh it's okay he was just giving me some understanding that when you are in when you are in very intense combat these kind of things can happen and we need to be very careful to avoid them as much as possible, obviously. But I guess it was more of just he was giving me some understanding, you know, as a, as a inexperienced guy. I mean, look, I'd been on deployment to Iraq before,

done a bunch of direct action missions, which, you know, you go out, it takes an hour. Like you leave base, you go out, you hit a target, you grab a bad guy, you come to back to base, and you eat dinner. Like, it's, it's, you would laugh at those operations. you would laugh at a matter of fact i was just having a one of these conversations i was telling one of my seal buddies that you were coming on the podcast and we were joking about you know doing missions that take 40 minutes you know what i mean they take 40 minutes and we'd we'd make sure we'd get back for midrats right like hey we better leave it this time to go hit this target so that way we can come back and get dinner like that's how that's how easy our operations were but i did a deployment

like that fast forward to 2006 a battle of vermadi there was intense sustained urban combat And there was a lot of fighting, a lot of close fighting, a lot of insurgents, insurgents embedded with civilian populace, Iraqi units, army units, Marine Corps units. It was a lot more, was much more complex. And that's why when I took over training, when I got back from that deployment, I amped up the training where I caused that kind of confusion all the time with our seals that we were training. and we got I'm not we got a hundred percent of the guys that I put through training a hundred percent of those units had had friendly fire incidents in training and that's what I wanted them to do I mean I don't want them to do it but I put them in situations where if they weren't really paying attention they would have those friendly fire incidents in training with paintball or with late we had a laser tag system one of those and they would learn so much from that. And they would realize how, if they're not totally paying attention, these things happened. And there's also a seal platoon in Vietnam that had a bad friendly fire incident, x-ray platoon. And, you know, I had heard that story, but I didn't really hear the story and really understand it until later, much, until I got back from Ramadi.

And I started saying, hey, we need to pay attention to this stuff. So reading this is a nightmare. I can't imagine getting friendly fire artillery dropped on your position. I never knew you could actually, you know, I was 18. I didn't know you could see an artillery round. I really, I actually saw these things coming through the air. And yeah, I didn't know that was possible. I was thinking it was like a bullet.

You know, I wasn't an artie. Yeah. But, yeah, I mean, artillery, it's a whole lot bigger than, you know, mortar rounds. You know, it's, that's serious explosions, you know, and these were, I don't know what they were, but one of the guys thought they were 155 rounds. And, you know, that's a big whole. 155s are huge. They're giant. Yeah, they're gigantic.

And the shrapnel that comes off of those things is, just. I mean, a 105 store. It's going to kill you pretty quick. but 105s in NOM, a lot of times, they were kind of, you know, a lot of the guys thought they were kind of useless. They weren't big enough to go through jungle sometimes. I mean, they just didn't have enough bang. Everybody wanted one-five-fives.

And sometimes, you know, the lieutenant would say, you know, what are they far? He'd want one-five-fives. He would make sure they weren't far on a, you know, battery of 105s. Yeah. Interesting. I wrote a book with my buddy Lafabin, who's one of the platoon commanders with me in the Battle of Ramadi. And as we were writing the book, we kind of wrote, we kind of divided up six chapters each, right? And it turns out of those six, of the 12 chapters total, three of them are about near, well, one of his friendly fire incident that I just told you about. But another one I had a Bradley that was going to engage what they thought were enemy snipers on a rooftop of a building.

and you know they were telling me what building whatever building number they thought they were looking at and they said yeah this building whatever building 20 do you have any friendlies on there we didn't have any friendlies on building 20 and we had building we had friendlies on building 28 or something and they said well we want to engage these enemy snipers and I said hold on have the Bradley count how many buildings there is between where they are and the target and they counted them and they said stand by oh wait a second no it's actually building Oh, man. And Bradley, I mean, I've never had them far from me.

I never saw them. Yeah, 25-millimeter chain gun is going to do some damage. I've seen them on TV. Yeah. The other one was, the other one that Leif wrote about was he was in a position with his sniper, and his sniper sees a guy in a building with a scoped weapon. And there was a lot of enemy sniper activity in Ramadi. And so everybody, the Army and the Marine Corps, wanted to kill enemy snipers.

And so the sniper, which was Chris Kyle, sees a guy with a scoped weapon in a building and says, hey, I see a guy with a scoped weapon in this building, whatever the building number was. You know, should we engage? And so they start having the conversation. Leif, the platoon commander starts having the conversation, hey, want to confirm, is there anybody in this building?

Is there anybody in this building? And the army's saying, what do you see? They say, we see a guy with scoped weapon. The army's saying, shoot him. It's enemy. Shoot him. We're not in there. And Chris just didn't feel comfortable taking the shot.

and Laif pushed back and you could hear like the frustration with from the Army and we have great relationship with the Army but they were like shoot him like we you know and and Laif just said hey we don't we don't feel comfortable with a shot we're not taking it and recommended the Army hit that building

and the Army said Roger that because again we were all on we all were trying to do the same thing right and as the Army went to hit that building they actually left the building that Chris was looking at. So it would have been a horrible, you know, it would have been a horrible,

uh, friendly fire death. Oh yeah. And living with that. Yeah. Yeah, that's, yeah, I had, I had a buddy had to live with that. And, uh, yeah, that was,

that was awful. Just, he never got over it. I don't think he ever got over it. I never even knew about it. In Nam, he called me up like, gee, was, I don't know, 40 years after the war.

in the middle of the night and told me. Yeah. Oh, man. Well, luckily, in this case, no one died on either platoon or in either company. Fast forward a little bit. We forced March farther and faster than we ever had before. I felt a sense of urgency on our pace. We finally reached an area of flat terrain and small patches of trees that look like undernourished pines.

There I saw the first signs of civilization I'd seen in 17 and 17. days for grass huts huddled together guys is spending so much time out in the field um fast forward a little bit a hundred meters across the field i smelled a faint whiff of smoke i wasn't sure if anyone else smelled it or not chan looking straight ahead moved slowly 15 feet to my right i look quickly to my left jackson had come to a stop he was looking down he was looking down into a large hole in the ground. Ten feet in front of us was the first of the long mounds of dirt, six feet tall and about 30 feet long. I didn't like the embankment in front of me. I looked at it, then Jackson, then back at the embankment. Jackson turned away from the hole and jumped backwards. Three shots followed in

quick succession. I dropped to one knee. Green plastic flew from the hole, followed by a small cloud of smoke. Three men jumped out of the hole carrying rifles. I opened fires. They scrambled over the embankment. My rifle worked. One last staggered at the top of the the embankment then fell forward to the other side. We ran forward, taking cover against the embankment. I pulled the grenade off my cartridge belt, pulled the pin and tossed it over the embankment. A moment later, Chan did the same. We leaned against the dirt, bracing for the explosions. I put a new clip of, I put in a new clip of ammo. Suddenly I realized that they could be doing the same thing. My grenade exploded, then Chan's. I ran around to the end of the mound and fired the entire

clip, full automatic into the prone bodies of the two NVA and dove back behind the mound. I yanked the empty clip out of out and jammed another full one into the m16 adrenaline shot through my system my hands were shaking i gas for air like a panting dog i pulled another grenade off my flack jacket straight in the pin and pulled and threw it over the mound gunpowder and smoke filled the air my second grenade exploded i darted around the end of the mound again unleashed an 18 round burst firing from the hip and jump back behind the mound marines were screaming something 20 yards to my left i pulled out the clip and reloaded My fear had been replaced by the sheer thrill that comes with the life and death situation. The flaw of getting shot when I stepped around the mound had not even occurred to me until Swift Eagle slid in beside me, breathing hard and looking mad.

Don't fire that way again. Some of your rounds almost hit first platoon. They're flanking the gooks. Are you trying to get yourself killed, boot? I don't know what happened, Chief. I just really got into it. You keep playing John Wayne and you're going to not make it out of here. Cease fire.

We're moving in. Lieutenant Campbell ran over to Swift Eagle and me. Okay, Chief. Let's see what we bagged. Swift Eagle turned and shouted, Give us cover. We're going in for a count. We ran around the mound and spread out.

I could see one body, but not two. I wondered if they got away. How could anyone survive all those grenades? Here's one, Lieutenant. Swift Eagle shouted and pointed out a body I didn't see. This one's been shot. He's yours, John. The Indians expression didn't change.

Business as usual. Looks like a kid. I walked over to the chief and stared down at the dead man. He was face up. His single-shot Russian S-K-S rifle lay beside him. It was a grotesque scene, singularly odd. The skull was split in half like a watermelon. The morbidly yellow-faced yelf lay fully intact but separate from the rest of the skull

and looking up with a ludicrous expression of almost childish shock. I felt riveted to the ground. I wanted to pull my eyes away but couldn't. I could hear voices drifting in and out around me. The gray brains of the dead man slid lazily onto the ground, carried by a tiny river of dark red blood. mouth tasted like bitter cotton sweat streamed out of every pore in my body quit admiring your work and see if he's got any papers on him i didn't recognize the voice but it struck a nerve i turned

around slowly by the time i faced the voice tears were trying to force their way out of my eyes i dropped the m16 and started towards a short stocky corporal with a thick brown brown mustache someone grabbed me in a bear head bear hug don't it was chan it's not worth it chan released me from the bear hug i walk back over to the dead face. For a moment, I felt sick, but it passed. I leaned down to search the pockets, holding my breath to keep from getting sick. I found a thin brown wallet wrapped in green plastic. I tossed it to Chan. Check this out. I took a deep breath and searched his shirt pockets. They were caked quickly with drying blood. From inside his left shirt pocket, I pulled out a scratched up Timex watch. He was only 14, mumbled Chan, still looking at a paper from the dead man's wallet.

But 14? Yeah. I didn't have time to see who made their next remark. Well, at least you know there's someone in this war younger than you are, baby son. The course laugh that followed identified Sam the blooper man. They were down in this whole smoking dope, and they had this green plastic over them. And I guess they were stoned. They didn't even know, you know, because that day it was rare, but we actually had a tank up on the road.

and the tank couldn't get to where we saw, I thought we saw some, some activity out there. So, but they should have heard this tank, you know, and, uh, they were just, they were smoking dope and, uh, you know, shocked when a bunch of Marines walked up on them. So fast forward a little bit. Someone put his hand on my shoulder. I managed to pull away from the dead face to see who was talking.

His name was Jake Ellenwood, a corporal with third platoon. He stood a good four inches taller than me. His face looked round, but he wasn't chubby. Just the slow, soothing tone of his voice calm me. He sounded honestly regretful as if he knew exactly how I felt. You probably shouldn't stare at any longer, John. As it is, I imagine you're going to remember this scene for the rest of your life. How'd you know my name?

You took over Red's gun, didn't you? Yes. I've heard you were going to be as good as he was. No way. Red was a Marine's Marine. I could never be as hardcore as Red. Are you married? No, I said.

That's good. Kamikaze shouldn't get married. Besides, you don't look old enough. I'm not. Why kamikaze? That's what I call the gung-ho gunners. All you're missing is the plane. He laughed, a hearty laugh,

the kind that makes you feel good just to hear it. So you're getting a reputation at this juncture. Young and stupid. Hey, that's also included in the break glass in case of war, right? Yep. Fast forward a little bit. You actually get in some vehicles.

You get back to the road and you get back in some vehicles and you head to, we need a poo-bye for a bar. You guys have a little break and you go to a bar. The animal pit. Is that what it was called? That's what it was called. Yeah.

You roll in, you kind of set the scene. Hendrix is playing. There's pinball machine. There's people drinking. I kind of got to read this. I hate going to bars with this little turd. Chan said to Mike referring to me. I beg your pardon, I said indignantly.

Why is that, Chan? Mike said with his best, with his Boston accent showing. Last time I made that mistake, I got thrown in jail. We got thrown in jail in Tijuana. Mike bellowed out a loud, laughed and choked out the words. Are you serious? Yes, I'm serious, Chan said. Now, wait a minute.

You guys, I said there's a reasonable explanation for these accusations. Yes. and the reasonable explanation is that he struck a giant Mexican bouncer with a chair, Chan said. Mike started laughing harder. Now, wait a minute. You're only hearing one side of the story. That's right.

After that, he managed to involve the entire bar in his brawl, got us arrested by the Tijuana police. The Navy Shore Patrol took us from them. Then the Marine Corps MPs took us from them. And we'd still be in the red line brig in Camp Pendleton if we hadn't had orders to Vietnam. So you guys left for Vietnam the next day, right? Yeah,

or something like that. Yeah, that's how I got out of jail. They, uh, this, yeah, this, that was my last time in, uh, San Diego. I was in the brig. That was the last time. It's been a nicer. Before yesterday when you got out here. Yes. Yes. It's been a much nicer trip. I hope you're having a better time this time around. I was almost innocent. They, they, uh, they tried to charge me, uh, for like 20 drinks or something, you know, and, and, uh, I said, no, no, we only ordered, I think it was four of us. And we only ordered four drinks. Now he's not speaking English.

Of course. And so I go four drinks and he's, and now they're going to force me to, you know, to pay for 20 drinks. So I had to hit him. And then everybody, when the Tijuana police showed up, I was trying to crawl out of there with Chan. We're trying to get out of there because bottles flying.

It was turned into a real. It's like one of those TV. Yeah. So it had gotten very violent. And I wanted out. out there. So I'm trying to get out the front door and the Tijuana police showed up and then everybody said it was him. And away I went busted. Yeah. Also at this bar, there's some Korean Marines in there, some rock Marines. You guys get introduced to them. The sergeant bowed again and steps aside to

introduce someone else. This is Master Dong Queen Park. How am I saying? How much says it's known? Don Coon Park. Don Coon Park. That's my grandmaster's name in Taekwondo. I just used his name. Oh, God. Yeah. He's a very famous master. He's here to train the South Vietnamese troops. A short Korean in the center, even stockier than Kim, bowed politely. I found myself bowing back.

Taekwondo is a Korean version of karate. American Marines are very good fighters, Master Park said. And then stuck out his hand. This time everyone reacted. He shook each hand. His chunky paw felt like a club covered in calluses. Master Park spoke in Korean. I couldn't understand what he said, but it was forceful.

Kim bowed again. Master Park said the Koreans are honored to fight besides. American Marines, he bowed again, then all four Koreans bowed. Now, meanwhile, while this is happening, get the books, you can get the full story. But Sam had left the bar, and he had now kind of snuck back in, and he has a smile in his face that you recognize he's probably up to no good. Then this big army guy comes in. Who stole my M79 ammo? A giant in army fatigues blocked the doorway.

I leaned away from the bar to get a better view. I thought he was standing on top of something. He wasn't. I know it was one of you thieving Marines. Who was it? Who has my ammo bag? Now I knew what Sam was up to. The giant looked impatient. The soldiers in the bar stood up, their chair squeaking against wood floors as they pushed them aside. This is the last time I go to a bar with you, Chan said in a muffled tone. I knew this would happen. Me, I don't have anything to do with this, I said. The giant walked over to us like he just got off a horse.

I quickly debated in my mind the pros and cons of turning Sam in. Couldn't do it. Not to the army. He's even larger than the Mexican Chan whispered. We'll need a bigger chair. So that all happens. Actually, the Korean guy throws some kicks and drops the big guy. So, you know, we didn't have the M79 that the Army had. They had all the really cool rounds. You know, they had the shotgun rounds.

Fossette rounds. Shotgun rounds. Yeah, they even could shoot flares. And, you know, they had everything. You know, Marines didn't have anything. All we got were Army. Just the H.E. Hand me downs.

That's all we got. We just got the hand me downs from the Army. So that's the only way we could get stuff is to steal it from the Army. And the guys were doing it all the time. Chuck. As all this is about, you know, wrapping up. Saddle up. We got choppers waiting on us right now.

What? And you guys are off. There are some green berets having some kinds of issues. You guys get called into a hot LZ. Put out there. You're on patrol. five hours and two mountains later sudsy got word over the PRC 25 that the green braves were safe with no casualties you guys went out just fast forward a little bit the fifth marines had moved to

an hoa valley on april 1st 1968 we'd been there for two weeks now it was like getting used to a new neighborhood after being around the DMZ i thought we would catch some slack but every day was the same humping all day in 100 or more degrees heat and setting up ambushes at night. The valley was a maze of booby traps. My paranoia of going home without legs grew more intense each day. Dying seemed almost easier. Rarely did 48 hours go by without someone tripping your grenade. Even worse were the booby-trapped artillery rounds. Every artillery barrage has some rounds that don't detonate the Viet Cong would find them and make them into booby traps. We'd change the point man regularly so no one would have to play a human mine sweeper too often. The best point man was

Jackson. A keener sense of direction did not exist. So you guys were, This reminded me of, you know, the Iraq and Afghanistan war, and it really got bad in Afghanistan, which I didn't fight in. But the guys that were over in Afghanistan, like, they would get in a contact and couldn't, like, dive for cover because there were so many IEDs. Yeah. Just a total nightmare. And it sounds like, you know, for us, well, this is in Iraq in 2006, certainly IED was the biggest threat. you know, roadside bomb was the biggest threat, especially towards vehicles. They really like to hit vehicles. So every time you're in a vehicle, it's basically, you know, is today the day. Yeah, I mean, I can imagine.

There's nothing scarier than, you know, than booby traps. I mean, the tripwires out in the jungle. There's no way to see it. But the NBA and the Viacong had a, they had a way of marking so they'd know where their binds were. and Swift Eagle tried to teach it to me. He caught onto it right away. I don't know how he caught onto it,

but they would have, you'd be humping along a trail or something, and if you saw three objects that were the same shape in different sizes, like a big round rock, a little, middle-sized round rock and a little round rock, or branches,

he'd know that was there, he'd know there was a pooby trap. And he, he taught it to me, you know, but I still, you know, half the time, you're so tired, you're not looking. You know, it's hard to see that kind of stuff. But Swift Eagle could spot it. He could spot a lot of that. Jackson, too, because he got, he walked point a lot. Yeah, you mentioned that Jackson was good. He was.

Speaking of Jackson, fast forward a little bit. Saddle up, take point Jackson. The lieutenant's command was echoed around the perimeter by court. I was a corporal Swift Eagle. My back hurt. My feet were rotting away. I had dysentery. In other words,

it was a normal morning with the U.S. Marines in the armpit of the world, Vietnam. We headed in the direction of base camp in Anhoa. A thousand meters later, the sharp explosion of a grenade at the head of the column brought us to a halt. I knew it was Jackson,

but I hoped it wasn't. I always liked him. He smiled so much. He'd been accused of being my black twin. We'd named him. We'd been nicknamed the White Teeth Brothers. We waited. Ten minutes past still no sounds.

Hold your fire. We're coming in with wounded. Friendly helmets poke through the tangled brush. Two men carrying one wounded Marine by his feet and arms struggled through knee deep mud. It started raining more heavily. I couldn't see Jackson yet. Then more helmets came through the brush. Three men carried another wounded Marine.

His face streaked blood and white red and white with blood and rain. Then Swift Eagle burst through the brush with Jackson over his shoulder. Corman. Doc rushed over to the chief. and helped him lay Jackson down gently. How are the others, Doc? Cuder looked bad. Swift Eagle's expression never changed, but his tone was serious.

Cudor's dead. The corpsman answered without looking away from bandaging Jackson. I shouted at the chief. How's Jackson? Sudsey tossed a green smoke grenade at the center of the perimeter and started spitting coordinates into his radio faster than any mouth in the core. Hey, Doc, I shouted. How's Jackson?

He's okay. Jackson was the seventh casualty in ten days, and we hadn't fired a shot. It was hard to smile. Out of the other six casualties, two were probably crippled for life, and Kudu was dead. My skin felt like cellophane

holding in anger. I wanted revenge. I was beginning to hate. I forced any thoughts of God out of my mind. I didn't want my hatred softened. The rest of the day drifted into obscurity like the day before and the day after. Each hour went by one step at a time,

watching for trip wires with every, moment, trying to put your foot exactly where the man in front of you put his. It felt like the kid's game of avoiding the cracks in the sidewalk, the only difference being the penalty. Hitting the crack in this game might cost you a portion of your body. Someone in Alpha took the fatal step every day or so. Sudsey picked up Medevac calls over his radio and kept us posted on the bad news. The news never came easy. We all had friends in other platoons. I felt helpless, agonizingly helpless. The feeling was becoming too common. Morale bottomed out. We had started as individuals. We looked at things in a different ways. Some feelings weren't different. They were contagious. Feeling the wet, sticky debris of what was a friend a second earlier hit you in the face after he steps on a hundred and fifty-five round sends hatred through a man like very few things can. That hatred builds when there's no fighting back. After weeks of this, we no longer looked at. anything differently. We became a unit, an angry unit, with no exceptions. We had one intention,

find the little slimes and take names. I hadn't heard that phrase so much since boot camp. It meant find the enemy, in this case, the 308th NVA regiment and kill so many of them that they would no longer be considered a combat unit. Craving for revenge infected us like a virus and built steadily with each new casualty. I wanted to kill as many as possible. I looked forward to it with lust. I felt older each day, 18,

going on 40. When I was in high school, the movie Platoon came out, and one of my teachers was in Vietnam. And one of the things that he told me was, he said that they didn't show in the movie to the extent that it needed to be shown was day after day after day after day

having guys get wounded and killed and wounded and killed and seeing the local populace walk down the same trails and not get blown up and yet you walk down those trails and your buddy gets blown up, your buddy gets killed. And I thought that that little section right there in your writing you start to feel what that feels like.

Yeah, it's, It's war. And fighting a war with weird rules of engagement. Yeah, it's rough. Meanwhile, fast forward a little bit, saddle up. The eternal order sifted through the column. The March to Anhoa felt like an angry funeral procession. The only thing missing was a casket.

I tried not to even think about the lost friends, but it was no use. even my eyes felt violent. The faces near me looked about as unfriendly as I felt. It should have been a routine resupply march. It wasn't, except for the constant marching. Nothing felt routine. The timing was all wrong for 24-hour trip into civilization where typewriter pushers, rare echelon, pogs,

and base camp artillerymen were having an interesting trip to the Far East. They drank cold beer, ate hot meals, slept out of the rain, smoked dope, played with village harlots and wrote the folks back home more war stories than Ernie Pyle. I was jealous and bitter and I knew it. As we entered the village of Anhoa, we looked as if a giant rock ape had dragged the platoon through the swamp by its heels. Vietnam had its own unique way of ripping, rotting, and eating away your clothes, your body, your sanity. There was constant rain, mud, blistering heat, and hungry insect life. There was the stink of the Vietnamese jungle and the sickening sweet smell of rotting dead.

A touch of malaria was burning my body. The bottom of my left foot looked like raw hamburger from a rotting fungus infection. And, of course, there was the fatigue, marching all day and fear of death at night induced utter weariness always. Some of the men were half naked. I was one of them. I had torn the seat crotch, the seat and crotch out of my trousers because of dysentery. No stopping for head calls. I drained as we marched. More than clothes got tattered. I was walking on my morale. The men's faces looked drawn with fatigue. Each had the same menacing stare like drunks about to get nasty. Some had full beards. Others just looked hard. We hadn't used soap and water for a couple months.

toothbrushes cleaned and oiled your weapon. Your weapon was your life. As the old gunny so aptly put it, our breath could knock a buzzard off a crap wagon from 20 yards. Our appearance and odor were nothing new, but the tight murderous faces had just been unwrapped. It went beyond the gung-ho Marine look. Revenge became personal. Each brow pinched as though straining under a heavy invisible burden. Anger clearly stamped into each face. Not. one man smiling it was visible to the children of Van Hoa I never I'd never once seen them miss a chance to beg sea rations off of returning Marines not this time they ran at us as usual yelling you okay GI others others just yelling like any other kids in the schoolyard they stopped cold on the edge of the dirt road as if sensing danger staring silently at our faces filing by one of the Arvins pointed at us and cackled with laughter like we were clowns in a parade. His uniform was tailored and starched. That lit an already short fuse. I hit the laughter with the butt of my M60. For a second, I felt good. I watched as the

rest of the Arvin got clobbered by the men around me. By the time the lieutenant reached the scene, seven Arvans lay in various positions of semi-unconsciousness. I was sorry for what I'd started. The lieutenant stomped out his cigarette. He looked mad. He turned away from the battered Arvans and scanned across the silent faces of the Marines. Swift Eagle, are any of them dead? No, sir. What happened, Corporal? They wondered what it was like to defend their own country, sir.

Are you saying, Corporal, that they requested a demonstration of Marine Corps hand-to-hand combat techniques in order to better defend themselves and their country? Yes, sir. Very well. Move out. 20 minutes later, the company stood a detention in front of the top sergeant for full inspection. beside the top stood the frail office poge supporting another new set of starched camouflage utilities. A fine pair they made, camouflage from head to toe, and with the Marine Corps shine glistening off their new jungle boots.

Corporal boxer shorts now had eyes as black as his boots. I bit my lip to keep from laughing. The top sergeant breathed in heavily and stuck out his lower lip. No man will enter the Chow line Without a Marine Corps cover on his Marine Corps head There will be another inspection before Chow Any man with unshined boots And improper Marine dress will not enter the Chow line

The top rambled on with this insanity Men began shuffling their feet Others started spitting and kicking in the dirt Like angry children being scolded It felt like any positive gains We may have acquired by getting a day's rest It just been negated Chan looked at me with a blank stare

Gassly timing He's obviously uninformed Chan sounded almost sad. He turned his stare back to the top sergeant who was beginning to shout through his list of commands. Every man will have a haircut and shave. By the end of the inspection, the mood was complete. Completely hostile.

We got one good piece of news. We'd be staying in Anhoa overnight. At midnight, I was awakened by the explosion of two grenades. Did that sound close? Swift Eagle asked the question for me. No one answered. Outgoing artillery. serenaded us the rest of the night.

The next morning information, the lieutenant informed us that the top sergeant had been fragged. He wasn't dead, but he'd lost both legs. I knew there would be an investigation, but even Sherlock Holmes couldn't find fingerprints on a grenade. It sure wasn't the first time a Marine got murdered by another Marine, but in this case, it left a bad taste in my mouth. It would have been better if he had died. The whole incident had the smell of pettiness. talking was at a minimum on the way out of Anhoa. If anyone knew who fragged the top, they were keeping it to themselves.

Whoever it was had to be worried. Justice would be swift and cruel in Vietnam. If the identity of the person or persons was discovered, their next firefight would probably be their last. The top sergeant wasn't exactly popular, but he was still a Marine. He had been through World War II in Korea. So we mentioned fragging a little earlier, and there's an incident that certainly appears to be. Yeah, it was.

That one really bugged me. I really, it really bugged me. I never saw that kind of stuff very often. That's probably the only time I actually saw it. I knew much about it. And, yeah, yeah, I mean, that person would have been. Somebody would have shot him if they knew who it was. Somebody would have shot him.

Yeah, and there's such a disconnect between these guys in the rear with the living in comfort while you guys are out in the bush. Well, it certainly made things worse. You know, you'd come in and especially, it sounds silly, but you've been in combat. Something as silly as a uniform. Okay, now the Marines, You've got to be spit-shined all the time.

And Marines are used to that. I mean, I didn't have any problem with that. That's Marine Corps. But seeing the Pogues with camouflage, we didn't have any camouflage. You know, the camouflage was new. See, we just had... Just greens. Just green.

Yeah, just greens. And all the guys, they really wanted that camouflage. We'd see the Army, and, of course, the Army had all camouflage. Everybody had camouflage but us. And so when you see some typewriter pusher wearing camouflage, it did not go over well. The guys got a little heated about that kind of stuff. So it sounds silly now. But in Nam, and another thing, grunts in Nam, this is in Vietnam.

And I don't know what it's like now, but in Vietnam, the grunts were doing most of the fighting and dying. And so you took, you had to take pride in something. You know, you had to take pride in being a grunt. And we did. We took real pride of being a grunt. It's almost like you took pride in looking filthy and, you know, walking around with your pants cut off. You had to find some pride in something.

Because if you thought too much about these guys that are wearing starched, camouflage utilities, you know, back in the rear, yeah, we had to look down on them. They were Marines, but we looked down on them and we enjoyed it. It's also such a good reminder that the war is so much different. All wars are so much different depending on just where you are. You know, my first deployment to Iraq, we were in Baghdad. And Baghdad was pretty nice. And we had our own little base.

And you could go to the big chow hall and they would have, I mean, like a pasta bar and like a burger bar. And we didn't have that on our little base. But then you go out a little further, like we went to some outposts, like there'd be some S.F, some special forces group just out in the middle of nowhere. And they're living on just one MRE a day, just a totally different living environment. And then you'd go to the green zone in Baghdad where they have like restaurants where you could go and take a girl out on a date type thing. Good grief. Yeah. So it really, this was such a good reminder of, of how different it is for different people

in different wars. And even, you know, I was telling Echo before you showed up here, just that, you know, we, we lived in relative luxury. And usually in special operations, we do a pretty good job of figuring out how to live in relative luxury. You know, we set that up pretty well. But, you know, you go down into wherever, you know, whatever outstation, it's a totally different war. You know, a lot of people also when I know this day and age, they may not know that Harry Truman, you know, he really tried to get rid of the Marine Corps.

And read Mike Edson, Edson's Raiders. he actually left the Corps. He resigned just so he could fight Harry Truman in Congress because he couldn't do it as an officer, you know. But Harry Truman had bankrupted the Marine Corps. He was cutting off appropriations to him and all those old Marines, I told you, the old China hands that I interviewed and spent time with.

The Chowhals didn't even have food. He was starving these guys out. They didn't have any new uniforms. There was no uniforms. there was no uniform allotment. What did Truman have against the Marine Corps? Do you think it should be folded in the Army or something? It's a fascinating story.

He was an old doughboy from World War I. And the story goes that he was bitter about all the PR the Marines got after the Battle of Bella Wood. And the French government praised the Marines for saving Paris. And the French War, you know, that Fifth Marines War, all that stuff. And he thought they got too much publicity. He hated the Marine Corps. And then during, he tried to get, he said that the Army could do anything the Marines were doing. We didn't need a Marine Corps.

And he was winning that battle in Congress. And in the meantime, he was cutting off appropriations to the Marine Corps. And then there was only one division of Marines left. He sent them to China to get them out of the country. And that's where my Section 8 story comes from. But then the Korean War. kicked off. And the only combat ready troops we had were the Marines. And we only had the 5th Marine Regiment, basically, and they called it the 5th Marine Brigade, I think, during the Korean

War. But we only had this group of combat ready guys because the Army guys at the end of World War II, and they were falsifying their combat readiness reports and all this stuff. And they were occupation army in Japan. And on a privates pay, you can have a geisha girl. I mean, you, you know, they were living it up, man. They were having a, they weren't doing. doing, they weren't doing combat. They didn't even know how to fire their weapons. And when the, when the first army soldiers were thrown into the, into the mess in Korea, many of them, when the Russian tanks came at them, they didn't know how to use their 2.5 rocket launchers. And one whole battalion of soldiers was just murdered. I mean, they just got totally killed. I don't know how

many survived, but not very many. And we were losing the Korean War until, because, Arthur said, give me the Fifth Marines. And that's when they sent him into Pusan. They stopped the North Koreans for the first time got beat. It's the first defeat they had during that war, and it was at Pusan. Then he pulled him out of Pusan and did the Enchon landing. And, you know, the rest is history. But, and that saved the Marine Corps. If the Korean War had not started, there wouldn't be a Marine Corps. And but because of that, when Red Mike Edson and these guys went to Congress and fought for the Marine Corps. One of the things they convinced Congress of is if you'll keep the Marine Corps, we promised that we can put a better fighting man in the field for a third

to cost. And that's when Congress said, okay. So the Marines got one third the budget that Army got. And so from that day on, the Marines have been stealing from the Army. But it was all through Vietnam. Tom, it didn't stop, you know, until recently, of course, the inner service rivalry, of course, it's not like it was when I was in the service, you know. It was a little more bitter. Yeah, that's one thing I was, when people try and draw me into the inner service rivalry, I don't, I don't enter into it because the army and the Marine Corps on the battlefield in the Battle of Hamadi was just, we relied on them and they saved us so many times and we did

everything we could to help them. And it was just a real true comrade ship that we had going on there. And so I have nothing negative to say about the Army or the Marine Corps because, man, they were, they were just outstanding over there and made such incredible sacrifices in that battle. That was, well, I know it's that way now. And it was that way even then, you know, it wasn't like you were really anti-Army. But, you know, like the first time I got wounded, the hospital was full, maybe the second time, but the hospital was full at Danang. It was during Tet,

and so there were so many wounded guys that they were laying us on the floor, and they didn't have any medicine. They gave me two Darv on us, and started cutting out shrapnel. And so then they threw a bunch of us, a bunch of Marines on C-130s, and flew us down to Cameron Bay, the Air Force Hospital.

And the bitterness, you're coming out of the bush, and you've lost, you know, you're full of worms, you've lost all this weight. You fly into Cameron Bay, and it was like flying back to the States. They had a white sand beach. Guys were surfing. They had a chow hall. They had air conditioning. They had a movie theater.

I mean, it was like, so you couldn't, you couldn't not get angry about it. We had, we had, I woke up from the morphine and stuff. You know, everybody's waking up and looking around and everybody's, hey, who are you with, man? Seventh Marines, who you with, 26 Marines, who you with, 9th Marines, 5th Marines. It was all Marines. All the wards were filled with wounded Marines. And this one kid, a few beds away from me, wouldn't answer. And we kept saying, hey, who are you with, Ben?

And he said, and he wouldn't answer. Finally, we got it out of him. He goes, well, I'm in the Air Force. Well, the Marines. wounded or not, sit up and start laughing. What did you do? Step on a nail? And so we got to like this kid, though,

because eventually he goes, well, it's my mom's fault. My brother's a Marine. And my mom kept sending me letters telling me, you've got to go see your brother and make sure he's okay. Got to go see your brother. Make sure he's okay.

So I finally did. I hopped a flight up to Danang, and they threw me on a truck and took me out to Anwa. And as soon as I got off this truck, it got hit and I got wounded and I got a purple heart. So, yeah, inter-service rivalry. But, you know, they had it so much better than us.

How could you not get ticked off, man? Yeah, that's that whole story about the saving of the Marines from being disbanded. There's a friend of mine wrote a book about the seal teams and where the seal teams came from. It's a guy named Ben Milligan. He wrote this book called By Water Beneath the Walls, which I always harassed him about being the worst title ever. but it's amazing how it's amazing that the seal teams even exist because why would the why would this commando force for you know kind of hinterland and maritime operations why would it not come from number one the Marine Corps and number two why would it not if it wasn't going to be Marine Corps why not

just make it the army because it's more of a ground thing than it is a water thing and he goes through the whole thing but a lot of it is that political aspect of you know the Marine Corps saying, well, every Marine is elite. We don't need them. And the Army's saying, well, we just, we don't want to have special operations. We want everyone to be a good soldier. And they had the Rangers and the Rangers got used improperly. And they looked at like, well, what's the point in investing all this money in these Rangers? If they're just going to get killed anyways, well, when you use them in that manner, they're going to get killed. So yeah, there's a lot of fascinating stuff around the politics of this. But I'm thankful that for the most part,

in my opinion, it's, it's, it's, it's, it's not. as bad as it used to be, that's for sure. No, absolutely not. I, you know, I talk to young Marines and, you know, no, everything's, it's different now. It's different now. Yeah. There was some, there was some old history there that the Marines held onto it because that's what the Marines do, you know.

Fast forward a little bit. Back on patrol by the time Sanchez reached the opening in the hedgerow, Chan and I had gone 20 meters in the opposite direction, a popping explosion through me to my stomach. I blink my eyes clear and quickly look behind me. Chan lay motionless, flattened to the ground. Blood trickled out of the top of his camouflaged helmet dripping over the greens and browns. I couldn't speak. He looked dead.

The helmet moved. He pulled his face out of the dirt, spitting a healthy portion of it at me. You jerk, I thought you were dead. You don't have to sound so disappointed. I thought so too. Are you okay? I asked. Yes.

How about you? I'm fine. But somebody ain't. I motion toward the hedgerow. Part of it was now a large crater. Chan turned to look. Pieces of bloody flesh hung from the back of his flack jacket. I stood up nudging Chan with my foot. You got blood all over you. I said, I do, Chan retorted. You should see your back. You look like you've been sprayed with red paint. I felt something on the back of my neck. I reached to slap it off thinking it was a bug. It stuck to my hand. I held out to see what it was. An unrecognizable fragment of a man dangled from my fingertips. Vomit came into my mouth. I spit it out quickly hoping no one would see. No one did. Chan stood. up. We started slowly toward the hedgerow, and I saw Sanchez lying 10 feet from the crater. The crater was exactly where I had stopped to argue with the lieutenant. I felt cold. Goose bumps swarmed over me.

Chan looked down and shook his head. Had to be a 155. I walked over to Sanchez. He lay face down. I rolled him over. His eyes opened. He looked fully conscious. I turned to Chan. He's alive. Praise God, Chan said quietly. Then shouted, Corman up. Doc reached us quickly with the lieutenant close behind. Sanchez looked up alertly. I'm okay, Doc, help the others. I'm okay. I'm okay. Simmons. Go check Simmons. Doc began sobbing uncontrollably. He tried to remove bandages from his pack. Chan took the pack from the shaking Corman and removed bandages and morphine. As he leaned over Sanchez to administer the morphine, my heart fell into my stomach. His legs were gone, severed six inches below the waist. I hadn't even noticed, strangely enough, the bleeding didn't look too bad.

Sanchez kept insisting he was okay. No one told him he wasn't. He grabbed Chan's arm with more strength than I thought possible from a man in his condition. Find Simmons. I couldn't hold back to tears. I turned and headed for the crater to find Simmons. Arms and legs lay about the crater. Four men missing, a voice behind me said. I found a hand hanging from the branch of a small tree by the threads of what was a forearm. A flak jacket held the upper torso of one man together, but the legs, head, and dog tags were gone. No one could be identified. We gathered the pieces together and placed him in a poncho. By the time the Medevac chopper arrived, Sanchez was numb with morphine. The rest of us were numb with hate. His real name was Jesus Quintana. Oh, so that's the story

you were telling earlier. Yeah. Yeah, he, uh, and he did survive. Yeah, he survived. Yeah, he live. There's pictures of him in the new version of Guns Up. I got pictures of him three hours before that happened. I don't know who took it, but I, and then I have pictures of him after he was sent home, and he's playing drumsticks on his fake legs. And he, that guy, he's the one that, yeah, that he asked for his Bible and looked up at the gunny and said, I'm going to make it. Jesus was a gun team leader. He was my gun team leader. And when he went back to the States, no legs, could have been bitter.

I don't know how I'd respond. I really don't. I can't even imagine. He goes back to the States and he took in 52 foster kids. He's got two of his own, I think it was two. two of his own, and he shows up at reunion and stuff, and he became a gunsmith, and he made an M-60 machine gun. They just bought him a vehicle that he could go hunting, and it looks like a little tractor.

It's really cool. I don't know where they found this thing, but it's like a little personal tractor, and he can go in and out of the woods and go So, yeah, what a guy. That's awesome. It lives in Indianapolis. Outstanding. Fast forward a little bit. Corporal Swift walked by with harder steps than usual.

He looked more Indian, more intense. His face was darker red than normal. He halted a few feet from us and shouted saddle up. Wonderful. Just wonderful. Let's go see how many booby traps we can find today. I spent the next four hours enjoying the scene beauty of the armpit of the world. No one talked. Every ounce of energy became as vital, became vital as the day grew

hotter just before I decided to faint. The column stopped. The man in front of me turned and said five minutes, then collapsed the ground with the rest of his platoon. Sudzy sat next to Doc. Roger Alpha One, single medivac over. Who got hit, Suds? I asked. He looked up with a frown. Lieutenant Hawthorne, third platoon. He got ticked at the point, man, when he refused to go into an area that looked booby-trapped. Sounded like he took. took point himself trip to 155 cut him clean in half at dusk we set up an ambush the next day started like before saddle up we got 15 clicks to go today swift eagle's command started my feet talking to me obscenity after obscenity yeah so as you guys were out there you got suds who's the radio guy and

you guys are all on some kind of command net where you can hear the whole company each platoon you can hear what's going on with the other companies and the other platoons. And so if you don't happen to take a casualty one day, you're hearing that your brothers and another company are taking casualties. Yeah. Yeah, he kept us, kept us up on what was going on. And, yeah, his real name was Bob Carroll and said he was, you know, the nickname I gave him. But, because I wasn't sure these guys would want their real name.

and the book, you know, when I wrote them. And a lot of the guys, like I said, I didn't even know their names. I knew them, but I didn't know their names, you know. It just didn't happen. We didn't go through training together. We just went through that war together. And I only knew the guys in my machine gun team. You know, you didn't really get to know everybody else.

You're always on an ambush. You're always humping, you know. So I didn't know a lot of their names. But Bob Carroll was, he was a machine gunner in Way City. And he had gotten hit in Way. And when they gave him a chance to get out of guns, he became the radio man. He was a great guy, but he came home. He wasn't, he wasn't, he was still a sweetheart. He, he showed up when they gave me the Silver Star 30 years after the fact. At first time I'd seen him since Vietnam, and he showed up in Cincinnati, where they had the thing, and

just looked exactly the same. You know, he had this real young face, but he spent most of his life as a ranger, a park ranger, because he wanted to be alone. And he was out in, I think it was Yellowstone. But anyway, some park out west, and he was just, like, disappeared for 30 years. Then when he came out of that, you know, he came out, he kept trying to get married and it kept not working. Yeah, we think he was murdered.

They found his body on a back road in Vegas, somewhere in Vegas. And this bizarre set of circumstances, he had sent me an email not too long before that, and he had gone to Russia with this new wife. He was in Russia. Bizarre story, he told me that he had caught. some trouble in Russia. I don't know what he had done, but there was some kind of issues, and he had to get out right away. And I was going to send him some money. Next thing I heard, he was back in Vegas, and then he was found dead on this back road somewhere, and they read

parts of guns up at his funeral. And I wasn't there. I was at another funeral, so I couldn't make it. we marched all day stopping for one meal i spent that time burning off leeches i hadn't mentioned leeches yet you mentioned them in the book but there's leech you're always just the leeches leeches the pace quickened in the afternoon no one talked the sun felt closer my helmet made an excellent frying pan and my brain was reaching over easy with dusk the mountains came closer and closer an arm up ahead motioned us forward into a circle

it would be a textbook L-shaped ambush just like we practiced in North Carolina looked great on paper the night grew black I couldn't see my hand in front of my face the air felt thick I hated not being able to see I'm ready I thought Chan started linking up ammunition

and stacking it on my pack to keep it out of the dirt he gave his M16 the once over put his magazines within arms reach and began straightening grenade pins. It reminded me to do the same. Chan stiffened like a dog ready to bite. His eyes opened wide. Tension sliced through the boredom like a silent alarm. I was strained to see what Chan was now aiming at in the direction of the mountains.

A barely discernible piece of darkness began to move. Another shape appeared from the trees just behind the first. They looked to be 120 meters to our left. meters to our front. A third shadowy figure emerged. Then a fourth. My stomach churned. The four shadows turned into four men 50 meters away and closing. I followed the lead man with my gun sights, making sure my finger stayed off the trigger. One early finger could get us all killed. From the corner of my eye movement, more shadows. Stinging sweat penetrated my eyes. The line of shadows grew longer. My bladder felt like exploding. The column of shadows grew longer and closer. Shadows kept multiple.

from the foot of the mountain. Every other man in the column was bent over to the waist, lumbering weight, lumbering under the weight of huge packs. The men in between the carriers walked more upright with smaller packs and carried rifles. I had a human supply train in front of me. This would be payback, long-awaited payback. My stomach still churned. In a few seconds, I'd kill a lot of people. Doubt strangled me. Fifteen of us were about to ambush a column of gooks I couldn't see the end of. A quick violent shiver shot from my neck to the base of my spine. Bloop. Sam's blooper gun.

I pulled the trigger. Orange tracers spiraled away from me. My first target exploded backward arms and legs flailing. I laid on the trigger for what seemed like an eternity. Frantic screams screeched from the rice paddy piercing even the explosions. I could feel the screams more than I could hear them. The NVA scrambled for cover that wasn't there. Some ran from the machine gun firing directly into the row of M16s, while those,

at the front of the column retreated into a shower of lead from the M60 the crossfire was a human lawnmower I swept the machine gun from one end of the column to the bottom of the mountains the phosphorus ends of tracer rounds broke off bullets and sizzled like miniature sparklers as they found their mark Chan changed clips in his rifle as fast as he could the barrel of the M60 glowed red then white adrenaline and fear pushed me while my whole body vibrated to the rhythm of the gum I became one with my weapon and we were killing. The barrel became transparent from the heat of continuous fire as I poured another hundred rounds into the rice paddy. A fluorescent lamp couldn't have pinpointed my position any better than that glowing barrel. I knew the barrel might melt and jam, but I couldn't

stop. I felt like I did in my first fist fight, scared to stop swinging for fear of getting hit. Chan dropped his rifle and started frantically feeding ammo into the gun with both hands. Sam's M79 blooper explosion sounded consistent, almost automatic. His loading speed was phenomenal. Louder, more powerful explosions of grenades and chikam sporadically thundered above the blooper rounds. The speedy burst of M16 fire mingled with the slower, more powerful cracking of the AK fire in a chorus of insane chaos. Total confusion engulfed the rice paddy. A few NVA fired back.

Others dragged dead and wounded toward the safety of the mountains. A flare sizzled into the dark sky, arcing over the paddy, then popping into a tiny sun and drifting down. The lights were on. The miniature red sun added a 3D effect to an already bloody picture. Chan screamed and reached for his rifle. Three gooks were running at us, bobbing and weaving in a suicidal charge to knock out the gun. They fired full automatic, spraying bullets all around us. They were screaming.

I swept the stream of tracers left to right, bearing down on them like a sputtering laser beam. A chikam blew up 10 feet in front of us, stealing my night vision with a white explosion. Incoming bullets kicked dirt into my eyes and mouth. The barrel melted. The gun jammed. The sweeping laser stopped along with my breathing. I fumbled for my pistol like a drunk and a shootout. My vision turned spotty.

I heard Chan firing. The grunts on my left opened up full automatic. Blurred images of two men 10 meters away came through spots in my eyes. Their heads jerked back like poorly, poorly manned puppets, legs crumbling fast, not knowing the upper half was lifeless. Silence. The loudest silence of my life. My heart pounded the breath out of me faster than I could bring it in.

The bloodlust evaporated into the gunpowder air. Payback. The frustration turned into fatigue. Chan, are you hit? No, are you? No, I'll probably be okay when I see the sun. Praise the Lord, whispered Chan. The night became deathly still.

Dawn finally came lifting pressure from me with each inch of yellow sun peeking up behind us. The first movement came from the chief. He moved smoothly from position to position until he made his way to us. He looked to be always. always in perfect balance. We're going for a body count. Keep us covered. He turned to the tree line and gave a wave.

As the chief started into the Patty, Doyle and Stryker came out of the tree line with their rifles on their hips. Swift Eagle stops. He looked over his shoulder at Chan and me. He gave the nod and a thumbs up. You did good. His stoic face, the same expression it always did.

None. But his piercing black eyes left no doubt. We had just gotten the sea. of approval. We were salts. Old salts. I've had I've had people talk about that the barrel glowing white hot. And I mean, I know you know that, but a lot of people don't realize. The real thing. When you fire that many rounds, it glows white hot. And of course, you don't want to fire that many rounds unless you really got to. You never would. Did your A gunner carry an extra barrel or no?

We didn't have any extra barrels. Oh, there you go. So, yeah, it was, it was, yeah, that's later in this. Yeah, I'll get there. Yeah, but no, we didn't have any extra barrels, you know, and it was more weight to carry. Maybe we were just lazy, but really, we didn't have, my whole time, I don't remember ever having an extra barrel. That's why, another reason we wanted 20, 20 round burst, you know, short burst, so you

don't burn the barrel out because you burn the barrel out, guns gone. You're done. But guys, you know, moments like that, guys, if there was no other way to cool that barrel down, guys would stand up and pee on it, you know, so. You had to report that to the boss too. You go here, my barrel melted last night.

I said, the lieutenant looked at me angrily. His lower lip disappeared as if he wanted to bite it. I thought that was the longest 20 round burst I'd ever seen. He looked away shaking his head and disgust. That's the kind of discipline. and the army. That's a kind of fire discipline. The Army employees, John.

Yes, sir. I should send you over to the seventh. He smiled and looked at the chief. Old Bill's gunner don't like firing in the dark. He looked back at me. Tough night. And then this helicopter comes down. Hey, I screamed over the noise of the rotors.

I need an M60 barrel real bad. You got a spare? The door gunner ignored me and yelled at Sam. Hurry up, dude. Get that stuff on here. We're not waiting. We're not staying for tea. Feeling a bit insulted.

I tried again. I need an M-60 barrel. The gunner leaned out of the door and replied with the nasal New Jersey accent. This ain't no supply train, Jireen. Salmon Doyle picked up the stiff, sidestepped to the open hatch, coordinated the toss with a three-count and heaved the body in. The door gunner struggled to drag the dead weight away from the hatchway, grabbing the end of the poncho and pulling.

I turned to cover it with a large green canvas. I seized upon this moment to remove the barrel from his door gun. He turned, realized immediately what I'd done, and started to curse. His voice sank mid-sentence when he noticed the barrel of Sam's blubber gun pointing at his nose. Sam smiled through his rotted teeth like only Sam could. Don't speak, jerk-face, just take off. We need a barrel a little bit more than you do. I guess the doorgunner could sense that Sam was a bit strange.

He said nothing and motion thumbs up to the pilot. The helicopter got away without being fired on. that's kind of an epic move right there just taking their uh taking their barrel well they they were going to fly back to relative safety did you guys not have boxes did you could you not mount boxes of ammo onto your 60 oh oh no i mean maybe you could okay so like our boxes are 60s had boxes yeah that you could you could basically they were 100 round boxes too so you just put that right on the gun and that way it's no no we didn't have that no yeah now you had to feed it by hand and when you're you know when you your a gunter was killed uh or you know you're by yourself

you had to uh guys would take sea ration cans and you could you could you could rig a sea ration can into the uh where the where the ammo's going in and we'd keep it out of the mud and so you could you know you could feed the gun without an a gunner uh it it it it Yeah. Yeah. So that became a real thing. And they, so they ended up making ammo boxes that carry 100 rounds. Like in the SEAL teams, the M60 is a, is one person weapon.

Like one person carries it by himself. Yeah. And, but they couldn't do that if they had to have, if they didn't, didn't have that ability of just putting an ammo box, like, hangs on the side. There's a little thing that it fits onto. Yeah. So it's a really nice little system. That would be nice. Yeah.

That would have been nice. Plus, you always had to worry about the ammo, you know, because we're always in the jungle or in the water or something. So you had to keep your ammo out of the mud. So guys rigged up all kinds of ways, you know. The sea ration can is kind of a famous one. Well, you could rig it up so that sea rushing can, a little round can is hanging off of it,

just so the ammo will go in and not lay in the mud. Well, they made that for real, like a real. Deal deal. And, yeah. The other thing is sometimes guys would rig backpacks so that they would have like 500 rounds in a backpack all length. Now that you kind of had to help feed in because it's for it to pull that all that ammo. Yeah. It was a little bit hard.

But if you were where guys would do it is setting up an ambush or like a target assault and just put the backpack right next to the gun, you got 500 rounds. Yeah, that'd be great. That'd be great. I think though if you're going to be carrying a net. that much ammo on that gun, all the gunners would have had to be your size. How many rounds did you carry? I'd carry 400, sometimes 500 rounds, depending on how bad things were. But at least 400 rounds.

And then the 60, you know, in the pack, flack jacket, helmet. I mean, it was a lot of weight. Oh, yeah. It was a lot of weight. And then you were supposed to have, I think it was a four or five-man machine. gun team. So you had two ammo humpers who were also riflemen to cover your flank and then an A-gunner. And so all these guys were supposed to be carrying ammo for you. You know, everybody would carry four or five hundred rounds of ammo. In reality, my machine gun team was either just me or me

and Chan. There was, there was, I never saw a four-man or five-man machine gun team outside of Camp Lejeune. Fast forward a little bit. I have to split you guys up. Chan, you're taking over Sanchez's gun. He turned to walk away like he was too busy to talk about. I couldn't believe my ears. Wait a minute, Lieutenant. Why can't somebody else take that gun?

My insubordination surprised me as much as it did him. We've been together since boot camp. Somebody has to take the other gun and you two are the only ones left with a machine gun MOS. I can't put some dumb boot on that gun. Most of these guys can't even take it apart, let alone clean it. has the Marine Corps have anticipated the theoretical need for replacements in this war chan shouted another guy Rogers Rogers had become dangerously cautious Red had once warned me about him since I'd seen for my and since then I'd seen him for myself

I'm your new A gunner his dejected tone told me he wasn't jumping up and down over the idea either let's get something straight right away John I've got 73 days left in this armpit and I don't buy the idea of being of me being by this gun. I'm short, man. I mean, I'm the shortest salt in the platoon. Next to Jack Allen Wood, I'm the shortest man in Alpha Company. 73 days and I'm getting on that freedom burden going back to the world in one piece. And I'm not getting killed because of this gun.

What makes you think you're the only sucker who wants to go home? I asked. Look, just take it easy on the John Wayne crap, okay? What do you plan on doing when some fool screams guns up? Should I say sorry? That looks a little dangerous for me. I seem to remember you screaming guns up a couple weeks back. Just what did you have a plan if I didn't open up?

He paused and dropped his pack. You and Chan go overboard sometimes. Even the lieutenant said you guys were crazy. He thought you needed a Section 8. That one stumped me. I knew the lieutenant thought we were gung-ho, but I didn't think he thought we were nuts. I'm still here, ain't I?

I've lasted longer than any gunner in the regiment. If I'd been running around like a fag on ice, I'd have been dead in the first week in country. Maybe you're dumb lucky. You're dumb lucky and you know it. Maybe, but let's get one thing clear, Rogers. When you hear guns up, you better be right on my butt. That's Rogers, a little nervous, getting short.

That's another thing. And he had a girlfriend. He was going to get married, I think. And yeah, he was a short-timer. And nobody, no short-timer wanted to be around. on the gun. You know, it was, it was well known. Yeah.

He continues on a little bit. Do you know what's going on back, do you know what's going on back in the world right now, he said? Fags and hippies are becoming Canadians. Jane Fonda is telling the world we kill women and children. Do you think for one second, that rich witch reminded the thousands of civilians, the NVA butchered in way?

Our own countrymen are sending money and medical supplies to the gooks. I don't know what you're arguing about. I agree. with you, but you joined the crotch, man. You weren't drafted. I don't know about you, but I've seen enough to know this much. The NVA ain't the good guys. They're bloody butchers.

I know that, he said. And Jane Fonda's talking out of rear end. She's a traitor. I know that, too. I've been here longer than you, John. What I'm trying to say is just who's on our side if our own people aren't. The South Vietnamese aren't worth defending. I hated to admit it, but he was right.

I looked east towards the ominous, mountains. I remembered Red calling them mountains, the mountains outside flew by a gook R&R center. I turned back to Rogers. Maybe I'm getting a little crazy. I don't know anymore, but I want to shoot these scumbags. If I ain't killing them for America or South Vietnam, I'll just kill them for Red or Ponchier Simmons or just because they tick me off. What's this place done to you, John? I knew you when you first got here, man. You never wanted to kill anybody. You were just a kid. You were not even 19. You're not even 19 yet, are you. I will be on October 12th. Maybe I don't really want to kill. I don't want any of this. I want to go home in one piece. And I don't think I'll make it if I get cautious. So it sounds like he had a

little more information of what was going on back with the, you know, back in America. Were you hearing about that too? Yeah. I, you know, I was writing letters home to to girls, you know, high school girlfriends and stuff. And they, there was one girl, her name was Polly, gone to St. Pete High with me. She, she was writing me for a while, you know, and, you know, letters were really important. You didn't get to, you didn't get mail very often, but when you did, you'd have a stack of letters, you know, for the last month and a half or something. And she wrote me a letter, this is just one example, and asked me to, to, you know, to, mail all my letters from now on to her parents so they could forward it to her.

And she was in a college in Missouri because she didn't want her friends seeing a Vietnam address on this, that she was writing a Marine in Vietnam because they were so against the war, and she'd be an outcast. And so that's the kind of stuff that started happening. One, they, Cal Berkeley students, I don't know who they were, but a group of them sent, you know, we'd get care packages. A group from Cal Berkeley one time sent a thing of dog food. And, yeah, this, this was, and then, you know, when I came home, I mean, I wasn't even home, I wasn't even home 24 hours. And maybe I was, maybe, see, a little over 24 hours. and they gave us leave.

I landed in El Toro. They were throwing stuff at us. Yeah, I don't know if you want me to go into that. But honestly, I was pushing a kid off the plane. And I was coming out of Okinawa, and I was strong and healthy now. And I was trained in martial arts. I was, you know, I'd beef back up and looked normal. But this kid I was pushing, lost his legs, probably wasn't going to make it.

I'm pushing him off the plane. And it's a plane load of wounded guys. And there were protesters outside this chain-length fence, throwing tomatoes and eggs and stuff at us and holding up sign and moon in us, you know, and holding up baby killer signs and the whole smear. And one of the tomatoes hit this wheelchair, this guy I'm pushing it. I blanked. And so it started a bunch of the other guys. And we went for them. And there was a whole squad of Marine MPs that were there just for one purpose.

And that was to protect them. because they knew we were going to want to kill them. And we did. But we could, you know, they were behind a chain-link fence. But then I went into this. I went into L.A. with another Marine. And there was a sign on the bar. First place, we wanted to hit a bar.

First place we go to, it's got no Marines or dogs allowed in the bar. And, you know, the anger just, it just kept getting worse and worse. But I'd already heard a lot of this in letters from other people. But then I was home, I wasn't even, I was home less than 24 hours. and I was throwing in the brig again because we're in this marina this marina I went into town with into L.A. He says, you know, he goes,

hey, let's go to my hometown. He goes, it's not like L.A. They'll treat us decent. It'll be different. Let's go see Americans, you know. Let's get out of L.A. And I said, okay, let's do it. And so we went to the Greyhound Bus Terminal

or standing there to buy tickets for a Greyhound bus to his hometown. And these two guys wearing Army fatigues, long hair, hippies, you know. And there weren't that many of those when I left. When I joined the Corps of me, but they came up and they made a couple of comments, one of them spit on my uniform. So I decked this guy. There were two L.A. cops were arresting an old Wino there in the bus terminal.

They dropped the Wino, came over, grabbed me, handcuffed me, threw me in the cruiser, drove me down the street, and they're looking in the rearview mirror to go, uh, fifth Marines, huh? And I knew right away. You're good. Okay. Only a Marine would know what that was. And sure enough, they were both fifth Marines. And they'd become cops. And so they drove me to a bus stop, unhandcooked me, gave me my C bag, said, go, this bus will take you back to El Toro. Get out of here. And we don't mind you hitting these guys, but not in front of cops. So that was my welcome home, but we heard and we were getting, yeah, a lot of the guys knew this anti-war stuff back home.

Yeah, we were being painted as the bad guys. Yeah, a lot of the guys knew that. And you talk about morale and what we were going through and then for our own guys to, yeah, morale went down. Yeah, and then you still got to do your job. Yeah. And they still got to like do this heinous patrolling through the jungle, the whole nine yards. And, you know, you mentioned it earlier, and I think we'll cover more in the book, but this idea that America wasn't actually trying to win. They were just trying to not lose.

And so you have that working against you, your morale. Yeah, it really did. Not trying to win. It was a big deal. When I got a picture in the book of the flag that was raised over away city, Sergeant Stacey Watson, a great Marine, he had the flag. and when they put that flag up over way over the Citadel, they made them take it down

and put up the South Vietnamese flag. So that kind of stuff, it's like, I understood it a little bit, but, you know. There's a better way to do it. Yeah. Fast forward a little bit. I caught a movement out of the corner of my eyes. Someone yelled, Sam fired the blooper.

Three uniformed NBA were running away from us, 40 yards ahead. The sharp white explosion of a boop around hit the trailing man square. He flipped forward and landed on his back. Guns up. Guns up. I ran forward firing from the hip. The other two NVA ducked down and disappeared into the elephant grass. I stopped, stood still and fired the M60 from the shoulder at the area where I'd last seen them. I ceased fire. There they are, Roger Souted. They popped up from the tall grass 30 yards closer to the tree line. I let loose another 20 round burst and as they just as they disappeared. The entire platoon ran forward. Guns up. Guns up. Lieutenant Can Scramble screamed as he ran forward the two NVA were were half carrying half dragging the third his arms draped over the shoulders of his comrades

They dove behind a tree line the lieutenant screamed halt guns up I ran forward with Rogers closed behind a second later chan and his a gunner the pig farmer ran up beside us Recond that tree line the lieutenant's voice sounded unusually high pitched we both opened up firing from the hip pieces of the trees spit in all directions as we raked that area and we where we had last seen the NVA. Cease fire. Move out. Lieutenant Campbell shouted. We reached the tree line. The NVA were gone.

Just on the other side of the grass was a graveyard. Chan opened up. I followed his tracers with my eyes. The NVA were struggling to drag their limp comrade behind a grass hooch 50 yards away at the edge of a thick, dark jungle. Fire on that hooch, Lieutenant Campbell shouted. I ran forward 10 yards to the first round grave mound of dirt and opened up. Orange tracers ripped through their woods and grass hooch.

streaming into the dark jungle behind it. Cease fire, Lieutenant Campbell shouted from the trees behind me. Without warning, the darkening graveyard lit up with green tracers of enemy fire guns, criss-crossing swift eagle squad. One fired from a position 20 meters to the right of the hooch and nearly straight across from me. The other fired from 20 meters on the other side of the hooch. Then a third gun opened up from just to the right of the hooch, raking back and forth and sending tracer rounds whining in every direction.

The dark jungle behind the hooch erupted with muzzle flashes. The lead Marine lifted up and flew backward from the blast of two streams of machine gun tracers, hitting him from the right and left. Fifty yards away, a helmeted NVA stood up beside the hooch and side-armed a canvas satchel charge into the graveyard. The squad dove behind the oval Vietnamese grave mounds. Brilliant flashes of light were followed by clouds of smoke and mud. A chikam exploded. Then another satchel charge overwereux.

the smallest chikom explosion, then three more chikoms, one after another. Our riflemen couldn't fire for fear of hitting the pinned down squad between us and the enemy. I jumped to my feet, ran 20 meters into the open graveyard, and stood on top of one of the round grave mounds. Now I could fire without hitting the squad. Before I pulled the trigger, Chan opened up from the other end of the tree line. His orange tracers pinpointed him. Immediately all three enemy guns shifted their fire from the squad to Chan. Firing from the hip, I opened up on the closest stream of green tracers. The constant recoil of the long burst of fire supported the barrel of the M60 with little help from me. The incredible weapon was perfectly balanced. I guided my tracers into the nearest enemy machine

gun. His tracers shot up high into the dark, rainy sky, then ceased. A hit. I knew it. I saw tracers sweeping toward me. My gun stopped. Ammo, I screamed and looked around for Rogers. He was still behind the trees. Suddenly my feet, suddenly my feet kicked out from under me. I was lying on my face. I felt stunned, but I wasn't hit. A moment later, someone pulled my feet, pulled me by my feet back behind the mound. Rogers. I started to thank him, but didn't. It was his fault. I was out of ammo. Bullets thudded into the small mound. More bullets churned up mud on both sides. We huddled against the grave and each other trying to pull in arms and legs behind the precious dirt. The graves were made in the shape of a woman's womb because the Vietnamese figured that's where you start, so that's where you finish.

I wanted to crawl back in right now. The firing stopped. We waited a few seconds. I peaked over the mound. Small clouds of sulfur's gunpowdered above, but no flashes. Let's go. I grabbed the gun and darted for cover of the tree line. Rogers ran past me like I was standing still.

My foot felt odd, but I didn't dare look down. We dove behind the end tree. I checked my right boot. Look at that, I said. I pointed at the sole. The keel had a bullet hole clean through. Are you hit? No.

Man, you're lucky you still have a foot. Ammo, I shouted at Rogers. Angry they hadn't already started loading the gun and wishing for Chan. Pull back. Pull back. Did you hear that? Rogers tugged on my shoulder. The monsoon rain started pelting us like drops of cement.

The Marines firing at the blooper vanished in the deluse. Pull back. Someone was pulling at my back. I looked up. Corporal James shouted down. Pull back. Pull back to the lieutenant. The rain pounded loudly into the ground, nearly smothering his shouts.

We got three men over there. I shouted back. Pull back. I'll go get him. He ran toward the three Marines. A few seconds later, he reappeared with the Marines following. Halfway back to Lieutenant, the rain eased up enough for me to hear someone shouting. Hold it.

Do you hear that, I said? We stopped and stood still. I heard someone screaming. Help us. We got Marines out here. Help. Barnes is hit. Now the screen echoed from the dark graveyard.

with frightening clarity. The rain picked up again. I ran to the edge of the tree line with Corporal James. I can't see a thing, James said. We've got to help him, I said. We have to tell the lieutenant, come on. He pulled on my arm. I followed him.

We ran through the mud as fast as we could. I kept thinking of Barnes so eager to see war. A vision of the Marine being blown backward by the machine gun fire flashed through my mind. It had been him, Barnes. Lieutenant, James shouted. Here, over here. The voice came from the darkness ahead. Now I could see him.

The rain was so thick, he looked gray. Lieutenant, we still have men out there, James shouted. I know, at least three. The rest are all right. Is that everyone from that end? Yes. Is Chan okay? I asked, yes, follow me.

The company's about 75 meters this way. 20 meters later, Swift Eagle emerged from the rain like a ghost. We huddled around him as the lieutenant spoke. Did you find who's missing? Barnes, Stryker, and Eunerstut. Is that me saying that right? Yeah, his real name was Undumstock. Euner Stute

I can't call in Artie with them out there Let's get back to the rest of the company And see what the CEO says We better hurry that captain the captain has already set up mortars Lieutenant Campbell started running toward the company with the rest of us Where are you? Barnes is hit bad striker screamed angrily from the graveyard I couldn't believe he was screaming

He had to know the gooks could hear him as well Help Barnes is hit he can't move His voice sounded panicky I couldn't stand it. His screams pierced through the driving storm. We had to help. Help! The shout sounded shrill.

I could see men up ahead. Lieutenant Campbell turned his back to Swift Eagle. Show them where the platoon is. I have to see the captain. I'll be there in a minute. We turned right and followed the chief along a line of Marines lying behind a rice paddy dike that flanked the graveyard. Their helmets were sticking above the dike.

Their bodies were half under water. Another forlorned. Hall echoed from the darkness ahead. We finally reached the second platoon all the way at the end of the line of Marines. Set up the gun here, Swift Eagle pointed to a spot between the two Marines. I hung the M-60 over the dike and sank into the muck behind it. Where are we? I asked.

The hooch is straight ahead, Swift Eagle said. He turned to lead the other men to their position. A loud metallic thump echoed through the crashing rains. A rain, a bright flash from an enemy mortar tube lit up their positions right behind the grass hooch. five meters straight ahead. I took aim at the flash and waited for another one. Hold fire. Hold your fire. Lieutenant Campbell ran behind the long row of prone Marines whispering loud enough to be heard by us, but not the enemy. Another thump and flash. For an instant, the enemy mortar men were easy targets for the gun. A mortar round exploded 100 meters to our rear, quickly followed by a second.

What are we waiting for, Chief? I whispered. I got these suckers. They're dead meat. Let me open up. Don't fire. Lieutenant Campbell ran up behind me. Three more quick, quick. flashes and thumps in succession strobe lighted the enemy mortar men i could hit him blindfolded shut up we got marines between us and them what are we going to do i asked he didn't answer he turned to repeat the order don't anyone fire i turned back to the front another series of mortar flashes lit up three separate enemy mortar crews i could see the mortar men turn away from the tube covering their ears from the blast i'm going to open up i said aloud don't rogers grab my shoulder you can't This is chicken, Rogers.

We got guys out there blown away and sitting ducks right in front. A series of mortar blast behind us drowned me out. They think we're back there. If you open up, they'll know right where we are. Not if I blow them away. Another series of flashes and the twanging hollow thumps of mortar rounds, leaving the tubes reverberated through the air around us. This sucks of chicken, man.

Look, Rogers pointed toward the other series of flashes from the enemy mortars. Then I saw what he was pointing at. A man silhouetted against the flash. bent over carrying a rifle and coming our way, 20 meters ahead and to our left. I took aim waiting for another flashing mortar barrage to show me the target. Rogers aimed his M16. I turned to the marine on my left and passed the word. He was already aiming.

A nightmarous version of a screaming human wave assault went through my mind. I shivered. I shook my head to clear the fear and resumed aiming. Another flashing mortar barrage. I tense put my finger on the trigger. There 15 meters ahead, the silhouetted man. Suddenly a mortar round exploded close behind us. The light of the explosion revealed the silhouette for a fraction of a second.

An American helmet, Rogers whispered excitedly. Don't fire. Marine coming in. A voice from the silhouette shouted. Get over here. Get in here. Someone shouted back. Hold your fire.

It's a Marine. The silhouette ran forward, sloshing water as he came. Then he was upon me, stumbling over the rice, over the paddy dike, kicking my helmet off and falling face first with a loud splash behind me. He turned and crawled back beside me, bracing himself. against the dyke. John, Stryker, are you okay? Yeah, he gasped for air and spit out mud. Barnes, he gasped. Barnes is hit bad. He couldn't move. I had to leave him. We have to go get him. He spoke quickly, running his words together. How about Buford? I asked. Before he could answer, Lieutenant and Swift Eagle slid him beside us, covering us with mud and water. Striker, who's still out

there? Swift Eagle rattled off the question. Barnes, he's hit real bad, but he's still alive. We have to go get him. The gooks are right on top of him, maybe 10 yards away. Where's Eunerstute? I don't know. I couldn't see Buford. As soon as that rain hit, I couldn't see a thing. Swift Eagle, Lieutenant Campbell said, go get some volunteers. Stryker, can you lead us to them? I think so, but we got to be real quiet. The go, go, goods are real close.

I could hear him talking. I'll go, Chief, I said, my stomach churned. For a moment, I wasn't sure I'd actually said that. You have to stay with a gun, Lieutenant Campbell. Rogers can stay with the gun. Okay, follow me. Let's see who else wants to go. Swift Eagle answered without looking at the lieutenant.

Give me a rifle, I said to Rogers. No, Swift Eagle said, just take your 45 so you can help carry Barnes. I knew I couldn't hit the ground with that lousy 45 beside. It was probably full of rust. The chief didn't wait for my excuses. He turned and called down the line for volunteers. Ten or more men got up and rushed forward. You four.

The rest of you go back to your positions. You ready, Stryker? Let's go. Stryker said, Lieutenant Swift Eagle said, as we swept over the dike, make sure these guys know we're out there. 30 yards through the flooded paddy, we reached the more solid ground of the graveyard. Stryker seemed to know exactly where he was going.

The pounding rain covered the noisy sloshing of our feet, but each step sounded like thunder to me. The faces of the enemy mortar men were clearer with each barrage. Stryker stopped ahead. Barnes, he whispered lightly. He dropped down and crawled around on his hands and knees. Barnes, Swift Eagle turned to me and whispered, you guys go around in a small circle. We searched for 10 minutes. It was obvious that Stryker had gotten lost or Barnes had crawled away.

We gave up the search and headed back. I thought of Beaufort. I couldn't imagine what terror he must feel. I knew we were nearing. nearing the lines of Marines but couldn't see anything ahead. A mortar round exploded 70 meters in front of us, silhouetted a long row of friendly American helmets 10 meters away. Marines coming in.

Hold your fire. Swift Eagle gave the warning. Friendly's coming in. A voice ahead repeated the warning. The dyke was only a foot tall, just tall enough to lie behind. And it wasn't about to stop any lead, but the first step over it filled my soul with relief. I found Rogers and splashed down beside him. He slapped me on the shoulder.

You deserve a medal. He turned his eyes toward the enemy. I agree. I said jokingly, I mean it. He said, still staring at the mortar flashes. I told the gun you knocked out that gun and took all the fire so the squad could get out of the graveyard. What do he say? He said he's putting you and Chanon for the Silver Star.

Are you feeding me? Honest. Chan's did the same thing you did on the other end of the tree line. We're sweeping across a daybreak. A voice whispered from our right. Pass it on. Two hours before a daybreak, the rain and mortar stopped. I stared into the blackness until my eyes hurt.

The first streaks of morning light brought little comfort. My hands looked like wrinkled paper from being wet for so long. We're moving in. The ward shifted by me on down the line. We were on our feet moving forward. I felt like I was in an old war film online, fixed bayonets. The sky turned pink and blue. The hooch was now clear in the morning light.

I couldn't believe it. We were actually going to storm right over these suckers. 59 days, Rogers mumbled. More to himself than me. Our first steps were slow, cautious, 40 yards away, the pace suddenly quickened. No one spoke. Someone to my right began jogging forward. I started jogging to keep up.

Now the whole line was running. Someone let loose a howl. Now everyone was screaming like banshees. A cracking burst of AK fire rung out across the graveyard. Then another. The second burst was a mistake. I could see the muzzle flash from the roof of the hooch. I opened up with a 50 round burst.

At the same time, 20 others fired upon the hooch. The sniper's body exploded from the roof pieces of flesh and cloth flying in all directions Cease fire cease fire Swift Eagle is finally heard and the firing stopped The hooch was burning black smoke tunneled one way then the other in the swirling wind There's a marine over here someone shouted from my right I glanced over quickly It looked like Beaufort lying face down I looked back at the hooch nothing no firing at all We swept by the burning hooch in ten yards deep into the thick jungle They pulled out, Lieutenant, someone shouted.

We got another body over here. It's a Marine. Another voice called from the left. I ran over to see who it was. Stryker stood over a bloody body lying face down. The chief stood next to him looking down. Who is it? Barnes Stryker said, I don't know how he got over here in front of this bunker.

Not until then did I notice he was lying in front of a foxhole with dirt and wood built up around it. Hundreds of empty 30 caliber cartridges were scattered about in the mud. His pack was ripped apart. His E-Tool had a bullet hole through the shovel end. Stryker bent down. He grabbed one shoulder and rolled the body over. Bullets had torn deep creases under each cheekbone, giving him a huge dark bruises around each eye.

It looked eerie. Dry blood covered another bullet crease under his jaw. Most of the right ear was shot away. I stared at the huge bruises. Suddenly his eyes sprang open. I couldn't speak. I tried to point like a mute with the mouth hanging open. Then a smile spread across his face.

He's alive, Stryker screamed in disbelief. Corman, Swift Eagle shouted. How did you get over here? Stryker said, can you talk? The gooks drugged me over here. They thought I was dead. They crawled out after me right after you left. One of them pulled a knife and came down on me.

Calm down. Save your strength. Dry Eagle said dryly. Swift Eagle said dryly. I thought it was over for sure, but he just cut my bandoliers off. Then they dragged me in front of their gun. God, I thought for sure you guys were going to walk right into it. I almost drowned lying there.

He was still perky. I couldn't believe it. I turned to Chan. He had to see this. I saw him standing near the burning hooch. I ran over to him. John, come here. He raised his hand and waved me over.

Look at this. I looked at the burning hooch. A sun faded tan pith helmet filled with dried blood and gray human brains lay on the dirt floor of the hooch. I bent down and darted inside. the helmet and brought it out. Something in Vietnamese was written on the front. I dumped the brains and blood into a puddle and handed the pith helmet to Chan. What does it say?

I asked. He studied the writing for a few seconds and handed the helmets back to me. It says, we're here to stay. One thing's for sure. This sucker is staying. Understude's dead, Chan said. He shouldn't have been here. I really like that guy.

I found no wounds, nothing. No blood. I suspect heart failure. Barnes is still alive. You have to see him. I led Chan to Barnes. Doc had just finished with a bandage on his leg and it looked like he was losing a lot of blood. How's he doing, Doc?

I asked. He'll make it. Doc stood up and led us away a few feet. He probably won't walk again. I don't even know why he's still alive. I counted 11 bullet holes from head to toe and some shrapnel holes besides. Doc spoke with his usual boring Boston attitude as if the wounded were keeping him from something more important. That's amazing, I said.

What about Buford? All I could find was one tiny little shrapnel wound in his side, but it was so small it was like a pin prick. It couldn't have been what killed him. He died from fright. He had a heart attack out there. Correct. I concur. Doc's face flushed half with anger, half with embarrassment.

He hated being put in his arrogant place. He removed his glasses for cleaning and then turned away without a ward. 20 minutes later, a Medevac chopper settled down in the muddied. Patty Patty. The sun was fully up now like a blazing ball in the copper sky. I watched his barn and Buford were loaded into the chopper. I wanted Buford alive. I wanted him to go home and spit in his family's face. He could have gone home, but he didn't. I thought of the cowards in Canada. That kid, he could have gone home. He was so scared. I guess you read it. Yeah, yeah. We, as I said, I can't read the whole book. Oh, I know.

I know. If you don't want me to... No, no, no. It's good to talk about. The kid was, like, horribly petrified. It just... I never saw another Marine like that. And we didn't know how he even got through boot camp

because he was so scared and it was so nervous, you know. And you couldn't go on ambushes with him. He would just shake and he was going to get somebody killed. And he was just terrified all the time. And so it became clear that... And the lieutenant was going to... to give him an early out. It's going to send him home.

And he refused. He said, I'm not going home until my time is up. And, yeah, that line really struck me when you talked about thinking about the cowards that had gone to Canada. And here's this kid that's so scared. And he didn't, you know, he had told his family, and again, this is in the book, but he had told his family he wanted to serve. and his family all said,

oh, you know, you're not going to make it, you're not good enough. Yeah. And he went and did it anyways. Yep. And that's why you were saying, hey, I wish he could have made it home and prove to his family that he could do it,

and he did have what it took. Yeah, he sure did. And this whole event, I mean, it's chaos. And, you know, I tried to see, I pulled a little bit out of it to not read the whole thing, but in the end, I was just, this whole sequence is so crazy

to read about and to follow what it had gone on. I mean, from the way that you and Chan set up your machine guns and he started taking the fire, and you saw that he was taking the fire, so that you lit up the machine guns that were going after him. I tell you, though, the, you know, I had to

stand on top of the grave mount. But when we went out to try to get Undhamstock, as real name wasn't Barnes, it was sunny. And that guy went home and he lived, the guy with 11 holes in him. He lived while Undhamstock dies of fright, you know, basically. But he went home and became a Virginia State representative or something. Yeah. He, he... He went on in life and did great. But that night it wasn't the guys I screwed up there. It was a guy named Corporal Hewtson when I crawled out in the graveyard to get,

because it was his squad that had been. He crawled out in that graveyard and it was the gunny. So it was us that went out into the graveyard. And I would, you know, trying to remember this stuff. I mean, you know, you do the best you can. Names, I, you know, I screwed up a lot of the names, but a lot of them I did on purpose. But, yeah, that was Corporal Hewtson. To this day, Corporal Heutson, he still has that helmet that we're here to stay.

Yeah, I kind of wanted that helmet. Well, it's interesting. One of my friends that's been on the podcast a few times, John Strykermeyer, a Green Beret saw a guy in Vietnam, but one report when one of their firebases was getting overrun and the sappers had headbands on and when they

eventually retook the firebase and recovered the bodies of the sappers that they'd killed, they had headbands on that said, we came to die. And that was a very familiar or at least close, we're here to stay. Yeah, yeah. The other thing that I found shockingly horrifying

in this was I've only been in one situation where we could hear and see the mortars getting lost. You know, most of the time in Iraq, for me, it was, you know, you get hit from mortars from unseen location. But one time, there was, it was nighttime, and they were launching mortars from a couple blocks away, but there was, you couldn't see because there was buildings,

but they were not very far away. And you could see the flash. And you could see the flash. You could see the spark, like a little trail going up, and you could hear it. You know, you'd hear, fom. thombe. It's terrifying because you don't know where it's going to land.

I mean, you can't see it. Oh, you can wait. You got to just wait. I got a friend named Johnny. And so we were in that situation. They were launching mortars at us every so often during this one night. And another friend of mine, coincidentally named Johnny, but probably the third or fourth time that they sent this salvo of mortars at us. You know, I hear the thump, thump, thump.

Yep. And my friend Johnny comes up on the radio and says, that's three boys, count them out. You know, he's just getting all freaked out. Getting all completely freaked out. Yeah. That's three boys, count them out. So that was pretty horrifying.

But then I was, as I was reading this, I was picturing you, you can see them. Yeah. You can see that they're launching mortars. And you're turning to your bosses saying, guys, let me shoot, let me shoot. And they're saying we can't shoot because we know we have friendlies. out there.

Yeah. And that's one of those judgment calls. I know. I know, I know, you know, the officers, they were squared away guys. You know, they saved my life in Vietnam. We had incredible officers, especially the one from Annapolis that was, you know, he was just a great guy. He went on to become a biggie ahead of the FBI in the Northeast. And anyway, he was a great man.

but I know they made the right decision because if I had an open fire and killed and the guy that that was coming out of the graveyard his name was Pat McCrary he's the reason one of the reasons they gave me the silver star he got a little a bullet wound that night

and he had joined the Marine Corps in Jacksonville and saw me doing all that stuff to convince the Navy doctors that I was going in he witnessed it And he said, I knew you were insane then. And so here he is that night. You know, he'd been wanting to come into combat. They'd had him in the rear.

And he finally gets out in the bush and he runs into this. And so, anyway, years later, he wants a Purple Heart license tag. They had just come out and 30 years. And he wants that Purple Heart License tag. And he goes to get it and they go, we don't have it. We need documentation. And he shows him the bullet hole. And he goes, here's document.

And they're going, no, no, it's got to be on your DD-214 or something, you know. And he goes, it's not on there, but I, you know, I got shot. And he goes, I'm on my, and he threw a fit about this and caused a ruckus and went to his congressman and did all kinds of stuff. I want my license day. Well, they did a big investigation. It was because of Pat McCreary. They did an investigation and found out that he wasn't the only one in our outfits, you know,

that metals, et cetera. A 122 millimeter rocket, one of the big Chinese rockets, or Russian rockets, I don't even know what it was, but had hit the record shack at Anwa and blew it up and killed all the guys in the record shack,

but it blew up all our records. So 30 years later, he opens the can of worms on that, and they start doing research on it, And the company gunny, this was another gunny, wasn't the one that was with me all the time, the company gunny is one of the ones that had ripped me up for the Silver Star that night. Well, he found out that it, you know, it didn't happen.

And now he had retired out of the Corps. I don't know what his rank was, but he rewrote it. He wrote it up again. And my old CEO signed it and, et cetera. And then he died two weeks. later. And if he hadn't done it when he did, I would have never got it. But it was Pat McCrary raising a stink over his Purple Art license tag that made him see that, yeah, you know, there's other medals these guys didn't get. And so that's how I got it. But it was that night, Pat McCrary

getting a wounded. So it was 30 years later? So it was in the 90s when you got over to the Silver Star for this? Yeah, 30 years after. Wow. That's when they gave Big Red. the bronze star, and he should have, and really, Undemstock should have got the silver star. Yeah, that's all. The award system is, you know. Yeah, I know. And the Marines have never been big on handed out medals. Yeah, the Marines are definitely not big.

No, they're not very good about that. And, you know, that's okay. And they'll tell you. Yeah. Did you join the Corps to fight or get medals, you know? So, yeah. But after it's all over and you're an old man, it's kind of nice to have something.

Of course, even after all that, it just, it's still on. We started after the NVA on a forced march. The jungle looked dense in black. The retreat was hurried. And our portman followed it easily. 30 minutes on their trail led us to a snake-infested jungle swamp. The unmistakable, sickening, sweet odor of rotting corpses filled the dance. humid air. I found solace in the stench knowing there were dead gooks. I wanted to shoot more.

I wanted them to pay. We marched on and on, in and out of the swamp after swamp. It was nearing evening when we finally climbed out of the swamps and onto solid ground. The terrain in front of us was rolling hills with scattered patches of trees and brush. Without my even realizing it, we had linked up with a huge column of Marines stretching past one hill and over another. The sun was dying on the horizon. We had to stop soon. I felt like I had to to eat something. Cracking rifle fire broke the silence of the march. It was over as quickly as it started. Corman up. Swift Eagle round by me shouting. Get in a perimeter. Who's hit? Rogers asked. The chief kept running toward the lieutenant. Who's at there helping? Rogers pointed to the three

Marines standing over another Marine 20 meters back. For a moment, I thought it was Chan. I'll go see, I said. I ran back. Who is it? Ellen Wood, Doc answered. Jack? Yeah. Is he okay? I think so. We need a medevac. Let me see my baby. Jack sounded dazed like he was in shock. Let me see my baby. What's he talking about? Doc asked. His voice beginning to show strain. His baby, I know what he's talking about. Memories of Jack calming me down after my first confirmed kill by showing me pictures of his new baby. He came back to me. Give me his wallet. Another Marine handed me his helmet. I fumbled for his wallet.

Here it is. I unwrapped the plastic around it, opened it up and found the color picture of his laughing baby boy. Here, Jack. Here's your baby. It was too dark to see the photograph clearly. but he calmed down just by holding on to it. I wondered why it had happened to Jack out of the 500 Marines and with only two weeks left. Our night ended in perimeter waiting for the medevac that didn't come. The next morning started with the humming noise of 30 to 50 helicopters flying in formation in the eastern sky.

Good grief. What's all that? Rogers asked. I don't know. I said, hey, Swift Eagle. What's going on over there? A swift eagle looked up from his can of congealed Lima beans, lima beans and ham fat he gazed stoically at the huge formation i think it's a hundred and first airborne they get a noon meal hot too what are you kidding john i turned to see doc the arrogance replaced by a solemn face looking down at me jack's dead dead how he wasn't hit that bad he had a stomach wound we didn't find until the morning he could have made it but we didn't get a medevac chopper

Doc spoke as though he was pleading for understanding. There just weren't any choppers. I followed the flight of the Army's armada of helicopters until my vision blurred. Then I cried. That story, another mistake I made, it was a baby girl. It had a baby girl.

And she, years later, she read guns up. I don't know why a girl would read it, Actually, a lot of girls read it. It's kind of funny. But she had read it, and she knew that was her dad. She just knew. And she contacted me, and sure enough, she sent me the picture, and then it came back to me.

It was, I remember that picture. She had that picture that he had in his helmet. And she had it. She said, and his real name was Frank Burris. And he was from St. Petersburg, Florida. So that's why I knew him, but once again, names, you know, but yeah, Frank, he had that baby girl, and she had never got to see her dad. And boy, that guns up really, really got to her, you know. I mean, we spent some time talking about. It really got to me, too.

I couldn't believe the ghosts that kept coming back. But, yeah, we called her Red Baby Girl, because she had red hair. She's a red baby girl. But her mom, then Frank's wife, it was many years later now, and she had remarried, but she called me up and said, yeah, she's never gotten over the fact

she never got to see her dad. And, yeah, it was pretty hard. Yeah, the, um, it really, really did get good in Vietnam, the fact that they could get wounded off the battlefield, you know. Yeah. And then by the time, you know, the Iraq and Afghanistan

wars kicked off. It was like it's such a people understand and it called the golden hour, you know, of this, we're going to get our guys to trauma care like within an hour. Right. And it's just so many, so many more lives have been saved because of that.

Oh, yeah. A lot of it is the lessons that you guys brought back from Vietnam of how important that is. Yeah, I know. And compared to World War II, how many of our guys would have died without those choppers? But, but, you couldn't always get choppers you know you just and a lot of times choppers couldn't land where we were yeah it's uh fast forward a little bit guns up i crawled back out of the bush stood to a crouch

and walked forward firing from the hip first at the bunker then sweeping tracers through the bamboo hooch the hooch caught fire flames spread quickly a moment later the entire hooch burned out of control i moved into the small clearing of sunlight running to the right until i had a straight shot into the bunker door. A muzzle flash spit from the darkness inside the bunker. Bunker, I hit the ground. Chan opened up semi-automatic. I shot a long stream of tracers through the door.

The flash ceased. Suddenly a Chai-com grenade flew out from the bunker, landing 10 feet to my right. Frag! Incoming! I screamed as I shot another 20-round burst into the bunker. I covered my helmet with my arms and nose and nose dived straight into the earth. No explosion. I started firing again. Cease fire.

Lieutenant Campbell shouted. A jungle breeze shifted smoke pouring from the flaming hooch into my face. Chang grabbed my arm. Let's move. We stood, ran right and flattened to the ground again. Short, stocky, corporal James ran up to the dirt bunker, being careful to stay out of the line of fire. He leaned against a wall, put his rifle between his legs, and pulled the pin of his grenade. He let the spoon fly, held for a count of two, stepped out, tossed the frag through the door, then jumped back. I opened fire on the bunker door to keep anyone from throwing the grenade back out. Out of the bunker grenade, the grenade flew anyway. James hit the dirt as the flag exploded, sending shrapnel slapping through the leafy jungle.

James, Lieutenant Campbell shouted, catch. James looked up from the dirt. Lieutenant Campbell threw him another grenade. James pulled the pin, let the spoon fly, and held for another count of two. He threw the frag in, harder this time like an angry pitcher. He dove back against the bunker. I opened up again. Orange tracers streamed into the dark hole.

An explosion shook the dirt from outside the bunker. A cloud of smoke poured from the open door. The bamboo door fell shut just as the stick, holding it collapsed from the explosion. James moved forward. He cautiously lifted the bamboo hatch and started to prop it up with a stick. A Chikam grenade flew out the open door, glancing off Corporal James' shoulder and bouncing to eight feet in front of Chan and me. James dove back, letting the bunker door slam.

We buried our faces in the dirt. I tried to crawl under my helmet with my hands and waited nothing. James, Lieutenant Campbell called again. Catch. He tossed him another grenade. James caught it, then dropped it. He picked it up, pulled the pin, moved back to the bamboo door, grabbed it with his left hand and let the spoon fly.

Counted two, lifted the door and threw in the frag. He jumped back away from the door and exploded and rocked the bunker again. The door blew open in a cloud of smoke, then slammed shut. Lieutenant Campbell moved forward with Sudzie right behind him. Sudzie reached over the shoulder and pulled the antenna. as he ran. The squad circled the bunker. I still couldn't see the chief squad or Murphy's squad. I stood up. Chan got to his feet and quickly linked up another belt of ammo. We moved forward cautiously. Lieutenant Campbell looked around at the squad, then shouted fire in the hole. He pulled a pin on another frag. James lifted the hatch up, out and up. Lieutenant Campbell threw in the frag. James let the door fall shut as they both stepped to the side. The bunker shook from the muffled explosion. The door flew open again in a cloud of smoke then fell shut. Just grenade fight.

Just hucking grenades at each other. Yeah, a lot of the chikoms were duds. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, when you refer to chikoms in this, you're talking about these old Chinese communist grenades that have a tendency to not work. Yeah, kind of like a potato masher, you know.

Like a small potato mash. Yeah, yeah. Let's get a body count. The lieutenant spoke quickly as he pointed to the thumb at the door of the pocket. bunker. James opened the hatch, propped it open with a stick, crouched over, and stepped down and in. A moment later, he dragged a tattered body of an NVA out. His left arm and leg dangled loosely, only held on by a couple of tendons. James pulled him a few feet from the bunker. The smell of gunpowder

filled the air. James stepped into the bunker again. A moment later, he dragged another bloody corpse out by the feet. The body was riddled with shrapnel holes and the head was cracked open from the concussion. James laid him beside the other. That's it, James said with an obvious disappointment. Can't be. Striker blurted out. I saw three of them go in there. Are you sure the lieutenant asked? Positive. Striker looked mad that they doubted him. He moved forward, leaned his rifle against the bunker, stepped down into the hole. Here he is. Stryker shouted from inside. They hit him under the floorboards. Stryker came out near, came out rear end first, dragging the body of another NVA. Hey, it's a woman, James said. She's alive, Sudsey said.

How could anyone live through that? James said in disbelief. She ain't very alive, striker said bending her over checking the wounds oh bad look lieutenant campbell said as he pulled away her tattered shirt her whole stomach's gone yeah no chance doc said from behind me come here and get a closer look doc lieutenant campbell said doc moved forward he bent her over and shook his head she'll never make it i don't know why she's alive now look at all the blood it's coming out of her ears did you hear that striker said her stomach just made an awful sound like a drain opening she's really suffering someone stepped forward with an M-16 pointed out her chest and fired a single shot. The body jumped from the impact. No one spoke. We stared. Her nostrils moved sucking in to get oxygen. Good God. The word struck

something in me. I wondered if she believed in God. He fired a second shot. Again, the body jumped from the impact. We waited. Her nostrils flared again. Then her mouth came open. She's still alive, Doc shouted. He removed his glasses and wiped sweat from his face. Somebody shoot her with a 45. I wondered if she'd ever heard the name of the Lord even as my hand reached down to my side. Chan looked concerned. I wasn't sure why. He handed me a sea rat, can full of smoking hot chocolate. How are you feeling? he asked.

Fine, how about you? No complaints anyone cares about. I looked around the perimeter. It didn't look right. The rise of the small rocky hill on the other side of the perimeter from view, I couldn't remember coming here. I must be turning into a real space cadet. Why? I don't know why, really.

I don't even remember setting up in this place. You remember the mercy killing? What mercy killing, I asked. Chan looked puzzled. I thought for a minute without speaking. Oh, yeah, the woman in the bunker. Are you all right? Yeah.

Other than being in the core, I'm just fine. The dying yellow face of the woman in front of the bunker flashed vividly through my mind. No, I'm not all that good right now. How do you talk to God when you just murdered someone? Years later at a kind of reunion thing, Sergeant Stacey Watson showed up, and he had a bunch of stuff from NOM, and he had that girl's ID. It was his job to search the bodies, get maps, and so forth.

He had that girl's ID and showed it. to me. Yeah, gave, told all, you know, where she was born, all kinds of stuff. It's rough. Seven months in the bush brought on many changes. A lot of friends back in the world stopped writing, including a brother and a sister, most never wrote to begin with. I would never have imagined that a simple letter could be so important except maybe for old people. I remember reading about Vietnam in the paper. It had never seemed like it was really happening. But now, for me, Vietnam was no longer some bizarre fantasy war on Walter Cronkite. The jungle, with all its death and fatigue, was the only thing that was real.

Flushing toilets, cars, and knives and forks didn't exist. Civilization was the fantasy. I felt ready for a cage. I had to have R&R soon. If not, certain parts of my anatomy might never operate properly again. Female water buffaloes were looking better all the time. No one bothered explaining why Chan and I had gone so long without an R&R. Men who were boot to us had already gone and come back.

We guessed they were waiting for more gunners to show up before they trusted the gun to a rifleman. We did a lot of guessing. Like we tried to guess why we were still PFCs after so many months in combat. I had more than one friend in the Army, three to be exact. All three were sergeants after six months and they were still stateside. So you're not getting any R&R, which is kind of crazy. And not getting any promotion. I don't know if I wrote, I don't know if I wrote that part in the book or not, but did you read how I finally got promoted?

Yeah. Okay. Yeah. Yeah, you get promoted like that. Yeah. Yeah. Well, we'll get there. Fast forward.

suddenly an NVA soldier emerged from the cover of the trees. He wore the usual green pith helmet. It looked greener than most. Brand new, I guessed. Fresh troops from the north. My heart started pounding. He paused at the stream and looked both ways like a kid crossing a busy street. He carried his AK-47 with both hands.

Something was missing. No pack. He finally crossed the stream. Two more pith helmets appeared. My heart joined my Adam's apple. Chan tensed up. I tightened my grip on the gun. I put the lead man in my gun sight.

Someone started digging into the rocky earth behind me. The man in my sight turned. He stared straight into my eyes. I heard my teeth grinding. The noise didn't matter. It was too late. I squeezed. The first orange tracers seemed to go right through the lead man like he was made of

paper mache. The first burst blew him back, arms flailing like a mannequin thrown into the air. I kept firing and firing. Cease fire. Cease fire. Chezs fire. like he was waking me from a hazy dream. My lip hurt.

Blood, a generous piece of my lip was wedged between my teeth. Guns up. Let's get a body count. Got some ammo, ass, Chan. We're ready. I stumbled down the hill following Corporal James squad, plus a couple extra men for support. We reached the stream.

One man lay in half in, half out of the water. His right arm and part of his shoulder had been torn from his corpse and were lying on the legs of another body three feet away. Crimson pulsing blood colored the crystal water. of the stream good shooting John he looks like Swiss cheese Sam said a painful groan brought our attention to the NBA still alive he lay on his stomach then he shuddered in pain corporal James cautiously rolled him over with his foot while pointing an M16 in his head no weapon everything looks safe James knelt on one knee and removed the pith helmet

long shimmering black hair tumbled across the face of an exceptionally beautiful Vietnamese woman it stunned me the last thing in the world I expected to see was a beautiful woman. Wow, how old do you think she is? Someone said. 20 at the most, said Corporal James. I bet she's half French. Yeah, she's too fine to be all gook. Chan and I were speechless. We appeared to be the only ones who were. All I could do is stare. A flawless complexion matched her beautiful features. Her striking eyes more round than usual gave a hint of a Eurasian background. She wore the same khaki uniform that most NVA did and the same hochi men sandals made from American tire tread.

I wanted to throw up. I knew I'd probably just killed one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen. No one took their eyes off for her. The closest thing to a female any of us had seen in months were the two women who had popped out of that hut on a search and destroy mission. Village women looked haggard or hawk-faced. Most were toothless and weather-beaten from years in the patties. This woman was a flower in the desert.

We gathered around her in a semicircle. Her khaki shirt, which was quickly sopping. up. Her dark red blood had two holes just above the beltline. The semi-circle of Marines moved a step closer. The moment felt dark, primitive. We stared hypnotically. She clutched her stomach in pain, looked up at us and said something in Vietnamese. She repeated again. Her eyes squeezed shut. Then she said it again, this time with her eyes opened, steaming with defiance. I recognized only one word, Marines. Corporal James broke the trance. Chan, what she saying? She says Marines are murderers and animals.

Sam dropped the blooper gun. His eyes bulged. His coarse, dirty, furrowed skin matched the strange personality perfectly. He suddenly looked very old. In an instant, before anyone could stop him, he fell to his knees and ripped the woman's trousers down to her thighs in one violent motion. I was stunned. No one moved.

By the time we reacted, Sam had ripped her bloody shirt up over her head. I lunged forward with two others, grabbed Sam by the shoulders, and threw him onto his back. He gasped out of breath and panting. The woman started cursing us. Large glittering tears trickled down her face. Chan yelled, Corman up, then knelt beside her.

He quickly tore her shirt in half and tried to stop the bleeding by tying two pieces around her waist. How bad is she, Chan? I asked. Looks like three hits by the gun. Can she make it? I don't know. Looks like one round went through her back and outer side.

It's the most serious. The huge hole in her side gushed blood each time she cursed at us. Sam jumped to his feet. Why don't we all get her before she bleached to death? Sam shouted. Yeah, why not? Someone added. That would be a mistake. Chan snapped at Sam. Then stared at him, almost daring him to respond. For a helpless moment, it looked like a fight. I knew Sam was just crazy enough to grab his weapon. I took two steps back and put my M-60 on my hip. Sam paid no attention to Chan or me. He

kept a fixed stare on the naked girl. I could hear my teeth grinding. Stryker and Jones appeared from the brush. They stared at the woman without speaking. Well, where's the gook? James barked. Couldn't find him, Stryker replied. His eyes glued on the naked girl. He's in bad shape, though.

There's blood everywhere. Hey, what's this? We're going to bang her? Keep it cool. She's probably dying, James said. Oh, well, Stryker grumbled. Ain't enough of her anyway. Stryker looked at Chan, then down,

as if he was embarrassed or maybe just regretting his choice of words. An hour later, a MEDAVAC chopper appeared overhead and lowered a basket for the wounded woman. A wave of pride swept through me. It wasn't the first time I'd seen Marines risked their own lives to save a wounded enemy, but this time I felt wonderful. I wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because she was young and beautiful. Maybe it was because she thought Marines were animals.

Or maybe because I was the Marine who shot her. Whatever the reason, I felt proud of being an American. the chopper that came in and got her. We were real close to the Ho Chi Men Trail that day, and a ton of NVA. And it was almost suicide to call in a chopper there. But the guys, they wanted to do it. I mean, they had that moment of insanity,

but they wanted to try to save this girl. And, of course, the lieutenant, and he did it. He called him in. They had to hover above, and I can't remember. It might have been one of the jolly greens, but it was, it might have been a Chinook, but it was a pretty big chopper, if I remember, but he had to hover above these big trees. And almost, you know, it was hitting the trees and stuff. That chopper could have gone down.

All those guys risked their lives to save that girl. I never heard if she made it or not, but they, you know, they lowered a basket. We put her in the basket and hoisted her up real slow, but it took a while. You know, every NBA soldier in Cambodia knew we were there. So the guys really risked their life. And, yeah, when she said what she did about Marines, Sam went nuts, but they got over it.

You know, they acted normal after that. As a writer, yeah, I wrote it. But yeah, they wouldn't have done anything. Fast forward a little bit. An hour past, the rain lightened from a downpour to a pore. Something sizzled bright colors like a sparkler moving in circles. Stay awake, I thought. I have to stay awake.

The sparkler exploded into the mud on my right. Incoming, another B-40 rocket sizzled overhead, exploding 20 meters behind us. Guns up! I opened up with the M60. There's a flash. Chan was shouting and pointing. 10 meters left. My tracer zeroed in on the last fly.

the last flash ceasefire chan said do you see anything no ow chance something just happened me hit me in the helmet felt like a brick a numbing explosion blasted me forward a fraggot hit my helmet and bounced to the ground nearby the flash stayed on my eyes i'm hit god i'm really hit this time my back's burning i rolled left it's the barrel chan johnny are you okay god i'm glad to hear you yeah no i don't know there's a lot of warm stuff running down my leg and it ain't rain another rocket exploded to our right throwing mud around us. Can you see? Not yet. Are you hit two? Yes, Chan said. Listen. I don't hear anything. Neither do I. Think we should call for Doc. Can you see yet? Chan asked. No. They might be on top of us. Have you got your rifle? Yes. I think I'm bleeding from the groin too. Bad? No, I don't think so.

Chan, feel my legs. Are they okay? Chan moved closer. He hit my boot. I felt it. Thank God. They're bleeding, but still there. See if you can get the gun ready. I'll call Doc. I oriented myself and pulled the M60 to me. She felt like solid mud, but nothing was out of place. I still saw spots. Memories of being timed, memories of being timed, taking the gun apart and putting it back together, blindfolded, came back to me.

The only sound around us was the pounding rain. The gun's ready. I don't know what good it'll do. I can't see her here. Corman, Chan's call scared me. A moment later, the call was echoed by the position to our left. I tensed. I tried to straighten my left leg.

It hurt. A sense of total helplessness swept over me. Then panic. I'll never run again. I blurted. What? I can't play ball. Hold it.

You're okay. Am I crippled? If you avoid catching frags with your fat head, you wouldn't be lying here, bleeding, having this absurd conversation. The exact words I needed. My panic subsided. I found myself giggling and feeling ashamed.

I always wondered how I would react if I got hit. Now I knew, and my pride hurt more than my knee. Heavy boots splashed into a puddle of mud behind me. My night vision was still useless series of yellow of spots from the blast. I can't believe it. Hit you right in the head. Chan started giggling. Oh, it hurts to laugh. He laughed again, trying to smother the sound with his hand. As always, the laugh was contagious. I started giggling and crying at the same time. If one of you isn't wounded, you will be soon. The threatening whisper of belong to Corporal Swift Eagle. Another pair

of feet hustled up behind us. Who's hit? Is that Doc Chan asked? Yeah, we're both hit. Check John first. What's funny, Swift Eagle said. The frag, Chan started to giggle. Hit me right in the I started snickering. I couldn't talk. Let's get him back to the C-P, Swift Eagle said. Grab an arm. Think they're in shock? No, they're both too crazy to be in shock.

Chan, you in much pain, Doc? Yes, Chan sounded weak. How bad is he, Doc? I asked. Doc lit a match and quickly removed it all around Chan, looking for wounds. A few shrap-o holes, but he'll be okay, Gunny. Hold a match over my pouch for a second.

Gunny lit a match. Doc fingered through it, his pouch until he found what he wanted. Okay, got it. I sat up and took a look at my leg. My trousers were covered with red mud. Wow, I've lost a lot of blood. A moment later, Doc stuck something into my leg. This is morphine. You won't feel anything soon. You guys got wounded, obviously. I'm going to fast forward a little bit. I felt like a caveman. The electric lights fascinated me. The air felt abnormally cool. Maybe the loss

of blood I thought. Air conditioning. Chan, it's air conditioning. Where were you hit, Marine? I looked to my left to see the harried face of a young Corman, my legs. He reached for a large pair of scissors and started cutting up one of my leg trousers to the hip. A grenade fell out of one of the trouser pockets and bounced between the Corman's feet. He turned pale, then he lost control. You jar-headed moron. What are you doing with a grenade in here? His panicky scream startled everyone around us into silence.

He was still too stiff with panic to pick up their grenade from between his feet. Haven't you heard, squid? I said with as a threatening tone as I could muster. There's a war going on out there, and frags are tools of my trade. The frightened corpsman squatted slowly, delicately picked up the grenade with a four finger and thumb, and round out of the room holding it at arm's length. You guys are clearly in the hospital now. PFC Clark, that is not a dream.

That is a nightmare, I thought. I opened my eyes. A stern-faced major dressed in dressed greens looked down at me. Yes, sir. I'm presenting you with a purple heart medal on behalf of the United States Marine Corps. A young red cross girl handed him a purple box, then focused on me with a camera. He opened the box and showed me the medal. Would you like me to pin it on?

He asked. I looked down to discover I was wearing blue pajamas. No, I'll just lay it on the box by me. As you wish, this young lady here wants to take a picture. We suggest you have the photo taken to send to your folks back home and let them know you're okay. Marines will come to their door with a telegram informing that you're next of kin that you have been wounded in hostile action. So there you go. I still got that picture.

Oh, really? Yeah. That's awesome. This is just a note. According to your records, you've lost 42 pounds. So what did you say? You were 160 when you showed up there? Now you're doing 120.

Yeah. Carrying the freaking M60s, 25 pounds or 26 pounds. Yep. I know. It was a common joke in the Marine Corps that the smallest guys would end up with the heaviest gut. But, you know, I was, I was, always real strong, but that's before I lost 40 pounds. And mostly, that wasn't all just

bad food. You know, sea rations, but it was getting the worms. Yeah, dysentery all the time. We're always getting dysentery. Yeah, you couldn't keep weight on. But not everybody lost as much as I did. Yeah, I don't know, my metabolism or something. So you got some good medical treatment there, and that's not all the good treatment you got, going back to the book. Her name was Linda. She came from Dallas, 22 years old, unmarried, and physically luscious. Her ambition centered around making enough money to buy a house. I only needed about 25 more guys, she said, with a bright, perky smile that came closer to her cheerleaders than a harlots, a house. Can you make that much? I asked naively. Oh, sure, she said a matter of factly, her sky blue eyes springing open with

information. The girl I replaced made 40,000 bucks in 11 months. I tried stupidly to divide 50 into 40,000 on 10 fingers, not enough fingers. I felt a bit upset, realizing she hadn't been swept away by my charm or at least my good looks. She stood to remove her gray red cross dress stooping slightly to avoid bumping her head. I felt myself melting faster than the candle. Her dress fell lazily to the floor of the ambulance. So this girl was a working girl, a working red cross girl. And I did, I actually did the math. 40,000 divided by 50 is 800. So she was getting a pretty good body count herself. A few days later, the doctor, besides jungle rot, various worms and what may be a touch of malaria PFC, the stern face doctor looked down at his chart with a slight hint of disgust.

You now also have gonorrhea. I slumped against my pill. I looked at Chan. His head was cranked to a sitting position. He pretended to be reading a magazine with his snoopy grin plastered across his contented face. He said nothing. Every morning during the every humiliating painful penicillin shot, he grinned and said nothing. Oh, one day he hummed and said nothing. We spent over a month in the hospital for over a month. Chan held his tongue in check, not once succumbing to the temptation if I told you. Because he had told you, hey, dude, don't do this. But you did. Yeah.

I didn't want to die a virgin. I kind of remember saying that, dude. And that wasn't enough for Chan? No, no. Chan had morals. And eventually I gained some morals too. Yeah. She sounded like, did she ever, did you ever get a contact from her, you know?

No. No, I didn't. She sounded like she's a pretty amazing looking woman. it seems like your, you know, your morals got tested a little bit again. The next chapter is called Something is Smoking at Firebase Alpha. You got a, you got a great whole section here. You know, you roll out to this, you end up having to stop in a helicopter at this other firebase. And these guys are living very differently than you guys were living out in the bush.

Yeah. These guys are, they got pot. They got booze. and they introduce you to both. Or maybe not the booze, but they definitely introduced you the pot. But, you know, these guys were, they were in a pretty secure area.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. For the record, I mean, the guys I was with, if you even lit up a cigarette, I mean, there were guys who would, you know, the Swift Eagle, he would nick you with a K-bar. If you, if you, there was no screwing around. in the bush. So guys in the rear, yeah, they did, they did stuff.

But, you know, not the guys, not the guys I was with anyway, not out in the bush. Yeah, well, that's, you know, I should have read the section, but basically you're on a helicopter to get back to the bush and it can't get all the way out there. So you get, you get let off for a night. Yeah. Basically in this fire base where, like you said, there's no, there's no immediate threat going on. Right, right.

And so, you know, we end up with these, these guys are out there. Yeah. Hollywood Marines, I guess. Yes, they were Hollywood Marines. A couple of them were from California. Then you end up getting into, you end up getting dropped off again. And I guess it's no shock for your level of luck that you seem to have. But when you get dropped off again, it's a really bad situation going on.

Going to the book here, you get on the ground. We're surrounded, Chan said, why did that chopper drop you in here? I don't know. He didn't even know that it was a hot L. Z. Look at this. We have one belt of ammo left. Panic was beginning to creep into Chan's voice. Third platoon already lost four men back there that I know of. Third platoon, is the whole company here? No, just second and third. We're in real trouble, buddy. Chan's eyes sobered me up with a serious stare. I'm going after some ammo. Somebody back there has some. Wait, Chan grabbed my arm. Let the CP know

you're coming. Hey, Gunny, I screamed as loud as I could. The chaotic firing all around the perimeter, drowning me out. I turned to Chan. He'll never hear me over all this. I'm going for it. Gunny should know who has gun ammo. I swallowed back a small belch. Be fast. Like the wind. You get over there. M60 ammo I said as I tried to catch my breath without looking up.

Here, get out of here with it. You're drawing fire. He handed me two belts of ammo and ducked down. I grabbed it and jumped up. My feet couldn't move fast enough. Coming in, Chan, I dove in beside him. Pieces of fallen tree flew into the air from the barrage of AK fire. A small gray snake slithered under the fire five feet to my right and wriggled away.

I wanted to be that small. I wanted to follow him. Chan, we got air strikes coming in. I got two belts. When? Sounded soon. Want to trade places? I just don't feel right with this little pea shooter.

Chan looked at me seriously, then broke into a smile. I wondered when you would want this thing back. Yes, might as well. You're useless as an A-gunner anyways. We changed position, staying under the cover of the tree. The gun felt good like an old girlfriend. I fired a 10-round burst at a muzzle flash and the tree line 30 meters away. Three phantoms roared overhead at tree top level.

Like lightning, a sleek phantom dropped from the blue sky over the banana trees low enough for me to see the pilot's face. Two long cylindrical bombs floated softly away from the screaming jet, tumbling lazily end over end until they crashed into the earth. The napalms spread like a violent wave coming ashore, engulfing everything in fire. Clouds of orange and red flames swallowed the line of trees. My face burned. I jerked my head down behind the tree. my eyebrows and mustache were smoking. Chan, good grief.

It singed the hair off your face. How bad is it? I was scared to touch my skin. An accurate stench of the singe mustache hair brought up another mouthful of whiskey. Because you're still hung over at this point from the night before. And by the way, Chan had already he healed up quicker than you. That's why he was back in the field. Yeah.

Looks like a sunburn. Chan peaked over the tree. Look, a man screaming in agony, ran from the flaming banana trees on fire from head to toe. I took aim but didn't fire. Put him out of his misery. I don't want to waste the ammo. I barked angrily. A few seconds later, he collapsed.

I could feel Chan staring at me. I hesitated to look him in the eye. I knew he would be shocked. It shocked me too. I turned to see Chan's face. He was looking at the fire. I'm sorry, I said. Don't be.

You were right. A single phantom swept over the tree line. At least three AKs opened up on the low-flying jet. How could anybody live through that? Um, Then you have choppers coming in, getting ready to drop some supplies. Guns up. Guns up. Guns up. Guns up. The calls came from the right flank. I grabbed the gun. Chan grabbed the ammo. We jumped to our feet and darted toward the right of the perimeter. A blooper gun opened on the bush ahead. It was Sam. The entire perimeter was in the open. I could see the prone marine spread on the line firing into the bush on the flank. Guns up. We ran toward the voice. I could see Swift Eagle flat on his stomach, pointing at the flash of an enemy gun. 100 meters straight ahead. The engine of the crippled chopper began palpitating. I dove to the

right of Swift Eagle. An instant later, Chan Belly flopped to my right and began feeding the gun. I opened up on the enemy gun flash. Orange tracers glanced off a bump in the train. I stood up, firing the M60 from shoulder like a rifle. Get down, someone shouted from my left. My orange tracers spiraled in on the enemy flash. This flash stopped as a pith helmet flew into the air, then flowed to the ground like a frisbee. I hit the ground, sand and rocks kicked up from around me from the incoming AK fire. An enemy rocket shot out of a thick brush, 75 meters to our front. It climbed slowly at first spiraling toward the wounded chopper, then gaining speed like a shooting star. It sizzled overhead. I followed it with my eyes as it zeroed in on the sputtering helicopter.

I held my breath and cringed, but the rocket sizzled just under the front landing wheel of the CH 46, arched 200 meters past the opposite side of the perimeter and exploded into a tree, breaking it in half. Another machine gun opened up on the helicopter from the other side of the perimeter. A Huey gun ship, rockets firing dove at the enemy gun. The Huey pulled up at the last possible moment. The enemy gun went silent. The CH 46 started smoking.

Flames shot up from the back rotor. Then it fell straight down. The updraft of the wind shooting flames high above it. It crashed to the ground crumbling over the large net full of something. supplies. The flame spread quickly. The door gunner crawled from the burning wreckage, his back of flame and screaming in agony. His face red with blood. I could feel the heat of the burning helicopter on my scorched face. Marines from the CP ran to the aid of the burning crewman. One Marine shoveled dirt onto the burning door gunner with his bare hands. Another butt stroke the already

broken plexiglass cockpit in a frantic effort to free the pilot and co-pilot. Get your eyes on the enemy. You've seen choppers go down before. Corporal Swift Eagle stormed up and down the line of Marines, all of whom were still stunned and staring at the fallen chopper. It seemed to be a perfect time for the enemy to charge. Swift Eagle knew it. We were vulnerable. I'll kick the butt of the next Marine that looks back. You better know I mean it. Fast forward a little bit. Again, get the book. A faint whistle of a faraway artillery round getting closer brought us to our knees, straining to see where it would land. The white phosphorus would round would would would round would send up a mushroom cloud of white smoke.

From there the explosive rounds would be zeroed in on the target. The white whistle grew louder, louder. That's too close, Chan said. The whistle got shrill. Get down. A voice from the CP shouted. A low muffled explosion erupted from the CP. I looked back as a huge mushroom cloud of thick white smoke billowed high into the night air directly over the perimeter.

Agonizing screams from the CP filled the air. Three small fires lit up the CP. Men scrambled around. I could see someone rolling in the dirt. His back of fire screaming. The sulfur is smelling smoke spread over the area like a white fog. Alpha one, Alpha one. This is Alpha two.

Over? Sudsy's words ran together in excitement. Alpha two, this is Alpha one. Over? Alpha one, that spot around hit the center of our perimeter. Lieutenant's been hit. He's burned. We need a medevac.

Tell those idiots cease fire. Repeat. Cease fire. Tell Firebase Alpha there. They are hitting Marines. Repeat. Marines. So another friendly fire, terrible incident.

We'd get short rounds. Yeah. You know, it was a short round. You never knew when it was going to happen. Yeah. Yeah. It was bad. Fast forward a little bit.

We got a new lieutenant. I hope he's not a gung-home moron. I said, what's his name? Lampy, Striker answered. He looked at Chan. He's got a cross on, painted black. Is that right? Yeah.

Does that mean he's a Christian? Chan looked up, then looked at me, his eyebrows went up as if Striker had struck a chord. Fast forward a little bit. Lieutenant Lampi looked scared, but not panicky. He looked like you'd expect a Marine lieutenant to look. Six feet tall, about 180, white sidewall haircut, pug nose, clean, shaven, acne under his ears and down his neck, or acne scars under his ears and down his neck. He was an Annapolis grad judging from his class ring, which he shouldn't have brought into the bush.

Fast forward. Second platoon up. we ran forward. Again, you got to get the book to get the continuity. If this sounds like it's, you know, jumping around a little bit, it's because it is. I'm jumping forward. Second platoon up, we ran forward. I could see the captain standing in a shade of a huge oak tree monitoring, motioning to us with frantic waves. He stood behind one of the tanks. As we ran forward, we passed three corpsmen working on five wounded Marines lying on the side of the road. All right, listen up. The captain's red mustache team to flare out with excitement as he shouted,

It's watered over the rumbling tanks. See that hill on the other side of that stream? We hit a semi-circle of fortified positions on the hills and that clearing. The second battalion sent E-company up that hill. They had to pull back. We're going to take that hill. We have tanks now, and they will provide cover fire. A sleek new cobra helicopter gunship swept in overhead with mini guns of blazing.

It strafed the bald hill, then banked straight up, made a roll like a World War II fighter plane, then nose dive straight down at the top of the hill. He fired six rockets, then leveled off, just missing the rocks and debris from flashing explosions. Are you listening? This isn't a fireworks display, Marines. The captain's anger pulled our attention from the hill. His face was red. Some of you are going to get hit going up that hill, and I want you to know what you're doing.

Do not stop to help the wounded. The corpsman will follow up and take care of them. Don't stop for anything. Now E-company says that little stream you have to cross looks deep. They didn't get that far. So we don't know for sure, but find a shallow spot. to cross and be quick. There are two hills to our right flank you can't see from here.

They're on the far right of the clearing and the gooks have fortified positions on both them so you may take fire from the right flank when crossing the clearing. Captain Nelson stepped away from the tank and pointed at the hill. All right. When you cross the stream, don't go straight up the hill on this side facing us now because you will come under fire from the right flank. Go up the hill on the side facing near the river and the road. He paused.

and turned a look at us, staring for one incident into the eyes of each man in the platoon. As soon as you enter that clearing, you'll come under fire. There's an Arvin regiment on the other side of that river that should take care of our left flank. Hey, wow, far out, man. We're going to be on TV, someone shouted. Captain Nelson's face tightened with anger. I turned to see who said it, inwardly already knowing. Sam was pointing at two pudgy-looking men.

One had a portable TV camera on his shoulder. The other carried a black box. They wore camouflaged baseball hats instead of helmets and a beautiful new lightweight army flackjacket instead of the Korean, the clunky Korean warrior flag jackets that Marines wore. They huddled behind a tree. The one with the camera was filming another Huey gunship firing rockets. Does that say NBC on that camera? You better can that mouth, Marine. Captain Nelson barked.

I, I, sir, Sam answered quickly. The thunderous echoes of heavy bombing further up the road took my mind off the camera. Guns up. I moved forward and stood behind beside the captain and Lieutenant Lampie. We're moving across in squads. I want the gun teams with Chief's squad. Lieutenant Lampie held my arm as he spoke. So did they record any of this?

Did you ever see any of this footage? My wife and I, Ann Chan, we went to New York to see if we could find it. And I think it was CBS. Yes. But anyway, we went to this place where they said they'd have this kind of stuff, and there were archives and everything. And we found stuff. It was Thong Duck. It was a Green Beret camp at Thong Duck. They got hit. They were being overrun. It was a big shootout. I mean, we were B-52 strikes. It was a pretty big day, and we never had tanks very often.

And we were never in the open like that very often. So this was a pretty big. shootout and we found videos but it wasn't it wasn't of that part of the battle it was some videos that at the green beret where their where their camp was but it wasn't really their camp and it was just it wasn't anything you know that we could make out and just guys running running across a field and you know incoming far here and there but we couldn't find anything with us in it but we tried it would I would have been nice. Going back.

Ready? Lieutenant Lampi shouted. He raised his hand. Go. Swift Eagle shouted from my right. I ran by the last tank in line of the three tanks. The lead tank had stopped 25 meters from the tributary. Two winding ricochets bounced off the steel tank as I ran by.

A.Ks opened up on my right. I could hear machine gun chattering from the other side of the river. Green chasers streak between the first and second tank. I looked left. Hundreds of muzzle flashes were firing at us from the jungle and the other side of the river. Corman, a scream came from behind me. I didn't look back.

A sharp explosion through rocks and dirt 20 feet into the air and left the second tank, followed by another one five feet closer. Someone screamed in pain. Corman up, another scream from behind me. I started zigzagging as I ran. I passed the second tank. Bullets whistled overhead.

Others twanged off the big metal hull as I ran by. The lead tank fired its big gun. Suddenly a mortar round hit between the lead tank and the tributary Then another hit 10 meters closer a third tank hit right on the tank's turret I dove into the dirt 15 meters behind it the tank rained from the explosion like a giant bell I jumped to my feet and started running again another mortar blast hit behind me Someone started screaming in agony I didn't look back finally the tributary was in was it within range a small tell-tail dust puff shot from the road as bullets hit the earth around me I dove to the ground as another mortar blast hit behind me I Me. I felt scared and confused. I pulled my face out of the dirt and looked back. I could see Swift Eagle running and pointing then a mortar explosion hit beside him. He fell. He didn't move. Chan dove in beside me. Let's go. Chan shouted. I hesitated. I wanted to help the chief. Then those last words kept shouting at me. Don't stop for the wounded. I jumped to my feet and ran. I took a running jump into the tributary holding the M60 over my head. The ice cold water took my breath away. I tossed the gun up on a level ground and

and pulled myself up with both hands. I threw my right leg over the embankment and rolled onto the hard level ground. I reached back for Chan. He held out the butt of his rifle. I grabbed it with both hands and pulled him up onto the solid ground. Wait, Doyle struggled with the deep water towards us.

His thick lens glasses looked too water-blery for it to be of any use. Give me a hand. The chief got it. Captain Nelson went down before we reached the first bank, Chan said. They abandoned that tank, I said, appointing to the lead tank. The three crewmen ran for cover.

behind the second tank. Look, two bodies to the left. My God, what are we supposed to do? Take the hill by ourselves. Doyle's voice cracked. Don't panic, Chan shouted. A 30 caliber opened up from across the river. His first tractor tracers hit the dirt road 15 meters in front of us, then slowly

walked toward us. Spread out. What are we going to do? Doyle shouted over another barrage of enemy mortars hitting around the tanks. We can't just stay here. I shouted back. I looked behind me. I could see muzzle flashes coming from the brush on the other side of the river.

They were firing from the riverbank. Bullets thudded into the hillside above us. I cringed with each whining ricochet. I'm not going to die just sitting here. I thought this is insane. I have to move. We have to move. I pushed myself away from the hill and started climbing.

Chan did the same. 15 yards up to the steep incline. We flattened out again. I looked back at Doyle. Finally he broke into a frenzied run, firing on full automatic as he stumbled and clawed forward. He flattened against the hill 10 meters to my left. Thoughts of hand-to-hand combat slipped across my mind.

Hey, look, Chan shouted to my right. He pointed at two Marines waving and shouted from beside the crippled lead tank. That's Lieutenant Lampy, I said to Chan. I thought you said he got hit. No, I said the captain. He's waving us back, Doyle shouted. He don't have to ask me twice, brother. So now you guys start to retreat.

Keep running. Just keep running. Lieutenant Lampy shouted as the three of us started running back across the clearing and we reached them. Lieutenant, how bad was the chief? I asked. I'm not sure, John. Go get yourself an A-gunner. We need Chan to take over the other gun.

What? Yeah, we lost a gunner. Who was on the other gun? I asked, I don't know. Hurry up. Get moving. We're going up that hill again. He turned away.

I've already been up it. I snapped. Where was everybody else? My terse remark stopped him from walking away. Chan still talks about that stream that we walked across. We had to hold our weapons above our head. It was pretty deep. So you couldn't go fast.

And his description to my family about that day is that it was like going through a rainstorm and not getting wet. There were so many bullets coming down, hitting the water, and none of us got hit. It was just God. I mean, the Lord wanted us to stick around a little longer. There was no doubt about it. We should have been killed there. Yeah.

I agree That's not Just luck isn't to keep you safe on that one And then what's crazy is you get through all that And again, I'm not reading the whole thing I'm not reading every detail You're going through this massive amount of fire Mortars machine gun fire 30-cal fire

It's all around you You get across the river You get to the hill You finally get told Hey come back when you get back, Lieutenant Lampi says, we're going again.

Saddle up. Saddle up, boys. Yeah. And on the other side of the river, the Arvin regiment that was supposed to secure the other side of the river so we weren't taking fire

from that side. Who knows what happened to them, but we were taking all kinds of fire from the other side of the river. So then let's go again. Let's go. Move it. I shouted back as Doyle as he rolled out of the water.

I ran across the dirt road, flattened out against the hillside until Doyle Are you ready? For what? Doyle grasped for breath. He pulled off his Coke bottle lenses and tried to blow off some water. We're going up the hill.

Doyle looked left as two more Marines flattened nearby. He took a deep breath inside. Yeah, give us cover. I yelled the Marines on Doyle's left. We're going up. Fear and excitement shot through me with a rhythm of a jackhammer. Gung-ho maniac, I heard Doyle shout as I ran and stumbled and crawled. 20 meters up we took cover under a large, sharp-edged rock.

Give us cover. We're coming up. A voice shouted from below. I moved to the right of the rock and laid down a 50-round burst across the top of the hill. There was no return fire. I fired again, still no return fire. We leapfrogged up. 20 meters up, I could see a pile of fresh dirt ringing the charred blunt hilltop.

The burnt scent of napalm covered the ground. Everything smelled like burning hair. For the first time in the assault, I felt too scared to go on. I knew there was a trench on the other side of that fresh dirt. I wondered why they hadn't hit us with grenades. I can't just sit here, I thought. Doyle, how many frags you got? I asked him patiently.

He slapped his chest, then felt his cartridge belt. Four, I have three, and I ain't going over that dirt hill till I have none. I'm with you. Let's make it up to that bomb crater before we throw him. Which one? He asked. I pointed to a small crater about 10 yards away. It looked about three feet deep.

It's better than nothing, I said apologetically. Doyle went for it first as I laid down fire. Then he covered me as I dove in beside him. We laid our weapons down. I pulled a grenade off my cartridge belt. Doyle did the same. We straightened the pins and pulled them. Maybe we better pop the spoon and hold them for a two count.

I said, you've seen too many John Wayne movies. Yeah, sucker, if these frags come by and flack back in your face, you'll wish you'd seen a couple. I'm throwing, he said. Doa brought the grenade back behind his ear with his right hand and let it fly. He threw the grenade straight up the hill and over the fresh dirt. I let the spoon fly brought back the grenade like a football then counted a thousand one one throw it Doyle shouted as he stuck his face in the dirt and covered his head with his hands I threw I aimed left of where Doyle threw his

Doyle's grenade exploded showering us with dirt and tiny rocks my grenade exploded immediately after with the same effect still no return fire we were repeated the procedure minus me holding for a two count I think they pulled out striker shouted from the far right I couldn't see him but knew his voice. I'm throwing another frag, I shouted towards Stryker. Ready, Doyle said. His grenade already pulled off his belt and finger in the safety pin. Outgoing, I shouted and ducked down. Doyle let fly. The explosions were the same. No screams, no return fire. Let's go in. We moved up the hill cautiously. Finally, we waited just below the fresh dirt mound until most of the platoon caught up. Stryker stood in a crouch, stood to a crouch 10 meters to my right and gave me a thumbs up. Everyone around me

returned it. Someone screamed, go. Ten of us rushed forward. My trigger felt slippery with sweat. I took a deep breath, jumped over the dirt mound and down into a waist-deep trench that ring the top of the hill. I landed with the crunch of a charred corpse of an NVA soldier and stumbled against the inner wall of the trench. An unburned body lay face down five feet away, his back covered with dried blood. I stomped the man's head, then kicked him in the groin. No groan. Felt stiff. heavy firing stop, except for one occasional sniper round or a quick burst of M16 fire. The battle sounded over. A few minutes later, Elbin climbed over the top with Lieutenant Lampi beside him,

hanging on the field phone attached to a radio on Elbin's back. We're moving over there for the night. He nodded to Wood Hill with Marine Helmets crawling through breaks in the canopy and trees and brush. I wanted to ask why, but it didn't matter. One hill was as comfortable as another. Okay, saddle up. Lieutenant Lampie shouted. His words came a bit awkwardly as if you were waiting for Chief or Gunny to staff or Gunny the staff to shout to the men into movement. Doyle muttered something behind me. I turned, what? We just lost a lot of men. His voice was at the point of complete dejection. I don't think many of them were KIAs, though, I said, trying hard to find something positive to think about. Who says? He asked. I asked Lieutenant about Gunny and Chief. The Gunny's going to make it and he thought and he thought Chief would. I turned to look for Sudzy.

He'd know the casualty status. I couldn't find his antenna or his freckled face. Did you ask Sudzy who got hit? I asked, still looking for him in the column? He's dead. What? My stomach rolled and sank. And for a moment, I felt sick.

He didn't make it up for the first tank the second time across. Saddle up. I want squad leaders to put your squads in three-man positions around the top of this. hill and down the sides. The gooks can still control the next hill, so don't give them any targets. Is that clear? Then the lieutenant started again without waiting for an answer. The CP is going to be right here where I'm standing. That's a hell of a battle right there. It was. It might have been the biggest one I was ever in. Yeah. Most of them were firefights. You know, this, like I said, We didn't have phantoms and, you know, cobra gunships and all that stuff, tanks.

That was pretty rare. Again, this might sound a little disjointed. It's just because I'm, get the book. An hour later, the sun turned it in the moon and a shadowy fears of the night held my eyes wide open. Just barely, I wondered where Chan was. I knew he was positioned at the bottom of the hill somewhere. My eyes felt heavy. Suddenly a quick burst of AK fire opened above us, followed immediately by five semi-automatic

shots from an M16. Something heavy rolled through the brush. Silence. Doyle sat up. Something thudded into the bushes beside him. A ripping explosions shattered the silence. My night vision was gone. All I saw were bright spots.

Doyle cried. I started firing the M-16 into the brush in front of us until the gun went silent. I'm hit. I'm hit. Doyle screamed. Corman. A voice shouted from above us.

Johnny, I'm hit. I know it. Don't talk. I can't see yet. I'm hurt. Shut up. They're right on top of us. I opened my eyes as wide as I could.

My vision was coming back. I could see the outline of a tree line silhouetted by the flashes of the arc light raids. Finally, I could see Doyle holding his knee and shaking his head back and forth. His teeth shined white from the moon's glare as he clinched them in pain. Someone was coming up the path fast, breathing hard and stumbling in the dark. Corman coming in. Don't fire. Doc, we got wounded over here.

Semperfy, buddy. Doyle gave me a thumbs up. I returned it. They disappeared into the darkness. I sank into the lowest loneliness, bluest funk I'd ever been in. I'd never make it home. No one will even remember that I died over here. Doyle's boot to me and even he's going home.

I should be happy for him. It's not his fault. He's lucky. That turd. He's really a good person. That turd. Yeah. You end up spending your birthday out there.

October 12th, which is, uh, um, fast forward a little bit. Shake it off, John. James voice broke me out of a numb, prolonged stare toward the dark path. I turned around. James and Stryker were both sitting up and looking at another arc light rate of a thousand pound bombs crashing into the mountains of Fong Duck. Darding spurts of abrupt orange spread through the crimson mountains, then reached into the sky, turning it crimson.

It looked like the end of the world. A small pop was followed by bright light, lifted my eyes up. Puff was dropping flares. The hills around us lit up from the reddish glare of 20 tiny suns swinging down under their midget parachutes. Now it was bright as if daylight had shocked away the night. I looked down at my M16. Something hit the ground beside Stryker. I ducked covering my head. A violent explosion rolled me toward the path.

Stryker screamed piteously. I looked up, 10 meters ahead and slightly above on the slope of the hill, an NVA sprang out of the bush, firing full automatic from the hip. Corporal James screeched and fell backward on my right. I raised to my knees and fired full automatic. Suddenly I was lying on my face. My mouth was full of dirt. My thigh burned like no burn I'd ever felt.

It ached like someone had knocked it off with a sledgehammer and one mighty blow. I raised my eyes with my chin still in the dirt and stared straight into the wide open, dead black pupils of an oriental lying stomach down 10 inches away. Blood gushed from two small round holes in his forehead, one above each eye. Five or six straight black hairs stuck out from his upper lip in what looked like a futile attempt at a mustache. I could hear striker screaming. Everything went gray, then black. Snap out of it. Sam's pitted face was in front of me. Don't go into shock, you moron. He slapped me hard across the face. It stung. I felt anger and started to swing, but someone held my arm. Are you ready? I'm taking you off the hill.

You're all right. Don't panic. He shouted to my face. His breath smelled like weak old cat food. My leg, I heard myself shouting. Is it on? It's there. It's there. How many times do I have to tell you? Sam picked me up with a fireman's carry over one shoulder around his neck. The path was steep and treacherous. My leg ached and burned. I wondered if I was crippled. James and Striker, I shouted as we reach the bottom. James is shot in the calf. Sam gasped for air before finishing. Striker looks bad. He gasped again, but he's alive. How is he? Doc yelled. Bring him over here. Sam carried me to Doc and Lieutenant Lampy. He laid me down gently onto my back. Here's a souvenir for you. Sam laid an AK Banana Clip magazine on my chest. Week spring, it jammed. He put too many rounds in. That's why

you're alive. Tell your kids. He turned and ran back toward the path. Huff hammered overhead. Another batch of flares popped open, renewing the dissipating light. Thanks, Sam. I yelled too late for him to hear. The pain in my thigh felt worse. Doc tore off a small plastic container. He pulled out a tiny needle and stabbed it into my throbbing thigh.

Morphine, Doc said, you'll be feel better in a minute. What's it look like, Doc? Lieutenant Lampi asked. He held a field phone in his hand. I'd never seen him look so confused. His eyes darted up the hill back to me in the back up the hill. Doc cut my pant legs away with his K-bar. and look close inside my thigh.

Can you roll over? I rolled. Went clean through. Made a big hole, lieutenant. He's lost a lot of blood. We got to get him to denang. Can I wait till morning? No way.

Memories of Jack Allen would crept through the pain. I lifted my head to look at my leg, a flickering flare, cast a pulsating light into the gaping hole in the inside of my thigh. Dark red blood shot out of the hole between the two pieces of torn muscle and steady spurts. I felt faint. I lay back down, dock wrapping the leg tight. An M60 opened up somewhere. I closed my eyes. The war went silent. You got him? A voice shouted. I tried to open my eyes. The steady cracking of AK fire resounded from every direction. A hard wind hit me in the face. A chopper. Give him cover. Get him out of there. Quick. Someone dragged me along a metal floor. I could hear the engine get louder. We were airborne. A bullet smacked through the thin walls of the chopper just above my head. Then another. The old helicopter shuddered and dropped. I felt my life ending just as suddenly a sudden. is the drop we pulled up.

The door gunner blazed. It flashes in the blackness below. I prayed. The door gunner stopped firing. Did they make it? The door gunner shouted at the pilot. They went down. Who?

I asked. But my voice trailed off. A stuffy overpowering drowsiness grayed out my mind. The choppy engine just faded. I wondered if I was dying. Jesus saved me. Jesus saved me. Silence.

Black silence. Then I felt cool. I moved my head. Soft? There was something soft under me. My leg ached all the way to my stomach. I groaned. My eyes felt heavy, almost sealed shut with old tears and dirt.

Guns up! Guns up! I forced my eyes open. A bright white light stung them shut again. I jerked my head to the side. Someone was laughing. A deep hearty laugh that made me wish I could laugh with him.

Now I could hear others laughing. Their laughter echoed. I'm in a building. I thought, a pillow. I opened my eyes again. The room was white. Too white. Guns up.

Guns up. A familiar voice called again. I lifted my head and felt for the gun like a blind man. My blurry vision began to clear. It was a small, round looking ceiling. A Quanson Hut. I grew up in West Virginia in a Quanson Hut. And I know a Quanson Hut.

When I see one, I thought men were laughing. I knew that would get your butt up. The familiar voice shouted from my left. I raised onto my left elbow and looked at a row of metal hospital beds. Men in blue pajamas filled each bed. They all laughed. I tried to focus on the nearest one. Then I saw him. Chief. The room erupted in laughter. Now all the faces were clear. Staff Sergeant Mori lay in the bed next to him. In the bed after that was a Marine who looked familiar, but no one I knew well. He was laughing too. In the bed next to him was Corporal James. And next to him, at the end of the row, was Stryker.

I looked to my right to see more beds and blue pajamas, but no familiar faces. Then one of the men on the right shouted, as if admitting the obvious. Yeah, we're Fifth Marines too. Everyone started laughing. How long have I been here, Chief? Better part of a day. Where are we? Deneang.

But cheer up. Doc says you're on your way to Japan with that wound. Japan? Really? I looked at my leg. I had thick bandages from knee to the groin. Your war's over, John. Chan.

Did anyone hear anything about Chan? Swift Eagle's face looked uncomfortable with the question. And my heart sank to the pit of my stomach. I don't know, John. I heard they took some more casualties, but no one knows who. I felt slightly relieved. So that's your final wound that gets you sent home or gets you sent to Japan. And, yeah, you end up on a flight.

I can't believe these bastards freaking woke you up from your thing with the guns up call. That's you. I mean, that's just kind of a little bit uncalled for, isn't it? Marine Corps loaves. Yes. Again, you got a bunch of details in the book. I'm going to fast forward a little bit.

You end up in Japan. While you're in Japan, you say this. I sent a steady stream of letters to Chan. They all said pretty much the same thing. Write me soon and let me know how you are doing, or I'll kick your butt all the way back to China. The letters started returning each one stamp with four or five different locations,

ranging from Alpha Company to Danang to Anoa, to Casualty Company, Okinawa, and back to me with an address unknown, returned to sender stamped over all the other stamps in dark red letters. I wanted to kick myself for not letting Chan's parents, for not getting Chan's parents address. It just had never occurred to me that I would need it.

Then one day, the fat-faced nurse handed me a dirty, tattered envelope. It was another one of my letters being returned. I started to toss it in the waste paper basket next to my bed when I noticed three letters scribbled in pencil down in one corner. K-I-A. My stomach reacted like a heavy ball of ice-cold lead had dropped into it, killed in action. I didn't cry. I don't know why. Maybe because I wasn't going to believe Chan was dead just because some office pog and Hanoa felt like using his pencil. Maybe just because it didn't

look official. Frustration, confusion, and finally despair took control of my thoughts. After five weeks in Japan, I was sent to Okinawa for rehabilitation. By December, my leg was getting strong again. I hadn't received any more information about Chan. A strange, illogical sense of guilt began taking hold of me. I had left him. I had to go back to NOM. I had to finish my tour or I'd never be able to live with myself.

I knew my leg wasn't ready yet, but I didn't care. Each day I requested orders for the Fifth Marines, and each day my request was refused. So there you are wounded. You got your ticket home, your million dollar wound, and yet you want to go back. Yeah, I did.

at that time I would have paid money to go back they're not letting you go back no no they I had nerve damage and I didn't have a critical MOS you know I mean

they'd always go buy MOS you would think they'd still need machine gutters but they said it wasn't a critical MOS and da da da da da yeah so and you had to go home and spend at least one year state side

before you could go back to NOM. That's based on what, on the number of wounds that you had or because you'd finish your tour or what? You know, I'm not sure what the reasoning was, but I think if you had two 48ths, 48-hour wounds where you were hospitalized for at least that long, if you had two-48s, you had to go back to the states

and I guess spend a year of state-side duty before you could go back into a combat zone. I don't know where all that came from. I mean, I was a PFC. Well, at that moment, I was now a Lance Corporate. Yeah, and I didn't. I didn't read that part. But basically, you wake up in the hospital and the guy says, why are you still a Lance

corporal? I was a PFC. Why are you still a PFC? But there was another thing that he hit you. Oh, yeah. Didn't you not get paid or you hadn't had R&R or there's something else that he hit you with? Yeah. Oh, I hadn't had R&R.

You wanted to know how that happened. And I said, well, every time I was going on R&R, I got wounded. I never got to go. And then he wanted to know, and this was a Navy surgeon and an officer. So, you know, he had pull. But he pulled out the, he's looking at all my records, you know, and a little thing with Jake. And he's quizzing me in. And he finally goes, boy, how can you be a PFC after all this?

He goes, he must be the biggest shipbird in the Marine Corps. And I said, he goes, how many times have you been busted? And I said, I've never been busted. And he goes, how many article 15s? And I said, I don't have any. You know, well, they didn't give me one for the fight in Tijuana. But I said, I don't have any. And he goes, well, how can you be?

And I said, well, they told me they froze promotions in the Fifth Marine Regiment. And he takes his chart and he just flings it down the hospital ward in Yakuoka. and he goes, F in Marine Corps, you know, and he has a couple of, and he goes, you're promoted, and he called a nurse,

and he said, this man's a Lance Corporal, get the paperwork. He promoted me in the hospital bed. But I got to tell you, sometimes I wish he hadn't, because, like I've gone to a couple of Marine Corps ball,

you know, with my daughter. And I, first time I ever got to wear dress blues. And I had, And I had, you know, all the medals on there, you know. And it would have just looked even cooler because they all kept saying, Lance Corporal?

You're a Lance Corporal? You know, and it was always the same thing. How many times were you busted? So it would have been even cooler if it was just PFC. Yeah. Going back to the book here. Christmas came and went. Then New Year's.

I was still in Okinawa. I felt better every day. I was ready to go home. In March, they put me in casual company. That was a good sign. I knew I'd be going home soon. My third day in casual company, I got a letter that had been forwarded from Yakuoka. The return address was St.

Albans Naval Hospital in New York. I was from someone named Dr. J.T. Adelman, Lieutenant, U.S.N. At first, I thought someone else's, it was someone else's mail, but the name and serial number was mine, so I tore it open. The first line lifted me out of bed and banged my head on the top bunk. so hard I started bleeding, but I couldn't feel a thing. Dear Lance Corporal Clark, I'm writing in reference to Lance Corporal Richard Chan, who is a patient of mine here at St. Albans Naval Hospital. I hope you won't be offended, but I have taken the liberty of opening Lance Corporal Chan's mail.

He has undergone three operations up to this point in an effort to repair serious fragmentation wounds to his right arm. We believe the arm will eventually be functionalable. Even more serious than his physical injuries, though, is the state of his safety. psychological depression that he has fallen into. He refuses to open his mail or receive visitors, including family or clergy. If you feel that you could be of any assistance in this situation, please contact me at this address or call the number below between the hours of 8 a.m. and 4 p.m. He was alive. So you have to figure out, you know, in the book, you talk about how you have to figure out how you're going to make this phone call. This isn't like modern day

where you just pick up your, reaching your pocket, pull out your phone. You have to go to this restaurant. You have to get in this phone booth thing. You have to do some kind of ham operator system. Mars calls. Yeah,

they would patch it from one ham operator to another until they got to. Yeah, things are a little different. Yeah, they were. And then you get on the phone with him. Hello, Chan said. His solemn tone told me right away he wasn't going to be easy.

You little turd. why don't you write me? I thought you were dead. Did I wake you up? It's good to hear you. He spoke with no emotion, cold and detached. Okay, what gives, I said. The silence that came through the phone was deafening.

For a moment, I thought he was going to hang up. Then he finally said something that sounded like Chan. How are you? Are you all right? Yeah, I limp a little, but I'm fine. Now talk to me, Chan. What's going on? How bad did you get hit?

There was another long pause. Well, his voice cracked. There was another pause and I heard him clear his throat tears started tickling my chin as they dropped off, but I managed to swallow back any sound that would give me away. Let's just say I won't be tying any surgical knots. He forced out a weak chuckle and I felt a burning need to hug and pound him on the back and tell him everything was great because he was alive, but I knew it was be of no use. He needed more than cheer up. Everything's okay. I pulled out my wounded Bible and asked God for help. Why won't you see your family? I asked.

as I opened the Bible, praying for something to jump out of me. I wanted to kick myself for not going to the chaplain before I called. I don't want to see them. My folks got a divorce while I was gone. They didn't tell me. I found out when I called home. What about Valerie? She came by.

It's over between us. It was just too painful for her mother. It's better this way. He sounded angry. I kept thumbing through the Bible. Almost nervously, I could feel the tension, but I didn't know how to break it. You'll love coming home, Johnny. Johnny, he snapped sarcastically.

These skinny little long-haired wimps, fellow Americans, greet the wounded Marines with protest signs, calling us murderers. You'll love coming home. I never heard Chan sound this bitter. He sounded like a different person. I tried to think of something positive to say. You'll still be a doctor. Get your mind on that. You have a job doctor he cut in?

I was going to be an open-heart surgeon. Remember? There aren't too many one-armed open-heart surgeons operating out there. Your doctor said you'd be able to use that arm. They don't know yet. He scoffed. I'm going under the knife tomorrow. This will be the fourth time.

There's no way I can be a doctor now. I'm glad you're okay, but I have to go now. Chan spoke quickly as if you were mad at me and in a rush to end the conversation. Suddenly it happened. Those words I need to jump out at me. There they were, soiled with Vietnam mud, but still legible in fading red ink. The words Chan had written in the front of my Bible. Hold it, Mr. I braked.

I've been listening to you all the way from Hue to Laos. You're going to listen to me this time. I waited for a long moment expecting a loud click as he hung up. Nothing. Then a barely audible mumble told me he was still there. Yeah. A buddy of mine wrote this once to me. I pulled the phone away as a gush of emotion sealed up my throat and pushed out a couple of tears.

I cleared my throat and started reading. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation or distress or persecution or famine or nakedness or peril or sword? Just as it is written, for thy sake we are being put to death all day long. We were considered as sheep to be slaughtered. But in all things, but in all these things we overwhelmingly conquered through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life nor angels nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth,

nor any other created things shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Are you listening? I asked. I heard him clear his throat. Then he tried to say something, but started crying. There's more, I said, trying to keep my voice from cracking. And we know that God causes all things to work together. for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to his purpose.

We didn't say anything for a while. I knew my voice would crack, and I'd start crying like a jerk, so I didn't say anything. I could hear him sniff every little bit, and I knew he couldn't talk either. Finally, he managed two words before he hung up. Guns up. I still get choked up. That's powerful. Well, I guess just to really quick, let's turn us into a better, a more happy conversation.

Tell us what Richard Chan did with the rest of his life because it's a beautiful story. Yeah, it is. He went on to become the leading cardiovascular profusion expert in the world. And he would travel all over the world, you know, giving seminars to doctors, even behind the iron curtain, when there was an horn curtain, and all over. He went everywhere. And he said invariably, no matter where he was, from Miami to Tel Aviv, you know, he said, when he'd finish, someone in the audience would chirp up or meet him after he was finished,

given the seminar, and say, I know it's not possible, but I read this little book. You couldn't be that Richard Chan, could you? He, at first he was furious at me for putting his real name in, because a lot of the names I changed, you know. But him, I used his real name. And he was furious about it. But as the years went by and it kept happening and happening, he's real proud about it now. He loves it. But, yeah, he's still, he's still in New York.

He lives in, is it Boston Spondent? Oh. Yeah. He's doing really well. He just retired. He was coming down to see me not that long ago, but his wife's having some real issues, so he couldn't make it. But yeah, yeah, he's a giant brain. He always had a giant brain. Yeah, and I didn't do justice at all. I mean, the amount of classic Richard Chan quotes that you have in this book, when this chaos is going on and he'd rattle off these extremely. verbose comments they were all just hilarious.

Yeah, he's a character. Gosh. Yeah. So for your recovery as your, didn't, did you, so you, did you pick up Taekwondo when you were in Japan and judo in Japan? I trained Sean Roo. Okay. And Ishen Roo in Okinawa.

Okay. And yeah, that's, that was part. We had a young officer who was ahead of his time there on Okinawa. And he knew, depending on the wounds you had, he knew that all the stretching and the things you do in martial arts would help some of these guys with leg wounds and stuff like that. So he ordered us out in theville to train with this little Okinawan guy. Well, I didn't. It was a grandmaster named Shimabuku, who was basically the grandmaster of Sean Rue, you know, really famous Okinawan. And so that was my beginning in martial arts.

and then I came back to the States. I hooked up with Don Coon Park. He went on to come to that head coach of the U.S. Olympic team. And, you know, Olympic taekwondo now doesn't thrill me too much. But back then, it was a little stronger, a little rougher, you know. And, yeah, they – but some people started getting killed in some of these matches. And so, you know, they start bringing in all these rules. But they were really wanting to get it in the Olympics.

So with that, you know, all the rules and stuff. So I'm disappointed in what taekwondo has become through the Olympic stuff. But, you know, it's been a big move for the Koreans. They, of course, they got an Olympic sport, and that's all great. But, yeah, Don Coon Park was, he's a very special man. So what did you do when you got home? So you get home from Okinawa? What was your next move?

I became a male man and I taught martial arts. I started training them at home and started teaching martial arts at the University of South Florida. And then opened up a dojang, you know, been teaching for the last 50 years. I do, I've done some seminars, some hand-to-hand combat seminars at West Point and Annapolis. It's kind of fun teaching these soon-to-be little officers. I mean, they're brilliant. They're like a bunch of chans, you know. they've all got great big brains, but they don't know how to kill anybody. And so I think I've

been able to help them a little bit. Did you stay in the mail service for the whole time? No, I injured my back. Actually, I injured my back when I had to jump out of a chopper and nom. That's where it started. But I had stayed in such good shape. I avoided the surgery. And, you know, if you're midsection's real strong. So I avoided the surgery for a lot of years, but it finally went. And we were going in on a hot LZ, and the gun team, they wanted the gun team to go off last. It was one of the old Chinooks, you know, with the back ramp. And so he was hovering while all the Marines ran off. And then I, me and Chan, ran to get off.

And Chan made it off, but right at that second, the pilot got killed. And when he got killed, it went out of control and started going around. And it threw me all around inside the chopper. And so the co-pilot got control of the chopper, and he started to go up again, you know, because it was real low on the ground. Started gaining some altitude. And by then I got my bearings, and I made a run for the ramp. But I had, you know, the machine gun, you know, and all that stuff. So I jumped a long way, and I landed in a rice patty.

And it saved my life, probably. but I was stuck in this rice paddy totally under mud and everybody's shooting at me and I couldn't I couldn't do anything there's no ducking I was stuck in the mud but uh that was the beginning of my I think my back injury I think that's where it started yeah that sounds like it could do it yeah but you stayed in you stayed in great shape I mean you're you're obviously you're in great shape right now well you know from for an old guy yeah I uh had had back surgery finally in the back surgery was real successful, so I kept training. And it hurt me, though.

I was training to fight in the World Championships at one time with Daugoon Park. And flying to New York to train with him. He taught there. And then the back surgery kind of killed that. So, yeah. But I, martial arts has been really great for me to teach all these years. I've loved it. I kind of miss it.

I kept getting surgeries. You know, a lot of things kept breaking. I think I'm on 15 now. I'm moving up towards 16, I'm afraid. And this isn't the only book that you've written. You've written, I think, a total of, is it a total of nine books or eight books? Yeah, nine books. And a play came out of Gunner's Glory that was, it's called the Battle of Nong Song.

Okay. And it's what Melvin Newland, a kid named Melvin Newland, got the Medal of Honor on this mountain in Nam. It's really a fabulous story. It's an incredible story. And so they made, you know, they took that chapter out of my book. And a playwright or a guy in New York read it or my agent read it. And then she gave it to this guy and he went crazy about it. So they made a play out of it. And it got standing ovations. And it was a pretty big deal. I got to bring my kids to New York to see a play. So we didn't have any place to stay. There was a big deal going on in New York. and we had no, so we're going to have to stay in Jersey, and my agent calls her boss.

I forgot what she worked at also, besides being an agent, and told him the situation, hey, he's coming, it's his first play, so I'm off Broadway, and he goes, oh, he can't stay in a hotel in New Jersey. Here, I've got the place for him, and it was Wesley Snipes, Soho, it was a bank, it was an old bank that he had bought and turned into this incredible apartment. So we got to stay there for my play for that week. And he had a TV set that was, you know, about the size of my house back at St.P. And so my kids, I mean, they were in heaven.

I mean, come on, Wesley Snipes. You're looking at this giant TV set. And they didn't want to go to my plane. They didn't want to leave the frickin apartment. So I had to force them to go to the play. It did. I thought it might turn into something. And this old movie star named Rita Gam. And just recently, she was on an old movie.

And we taped it so I could see what she looked like because I never even met her. She optioned the rights to my play. And she was, you know, at this time she was an older. But in the 50s, she was really hot, you know, and she was pretty, she named her, took the name, GAM because she had fabulous legs. camps. So anyway, she optioned the rights. Then she hooked up with some young British guy, about 30 years younger than her, took my play and her and went to London, never saw him again. So nothing ever came of it. But how was the play? Was it good? Was it good? Oh, yeah. Guy, it was great. Everybody in the audience was crying. It's a pretty dramatic play. These guys at Nong Song.

they did some amazing stuff. Yeah, standing ovations. It did really great. But, you know, it only went for that one week, and then she took it. I thought, you know, and the agent said, do it because she could do something with this. You know, she's got the clout, but all she did is go to London with a guy 30-year-old-old. Hey, I'm not going to knock her.

Hey, I'm sad the play didn't go further, but, you know, my girls making it happen with the younger man, I guess. Let me tell you how about guns up getting published. I mean, because all the other books, of course, came out of that. And that book had been read. What made you decide to write it? Well, anger. I was real bitter.

And I had, you know, I came back from NOM and I was just a very angry guy. You know, a lot of NOM vets were like that. I mean, we weren't being treated real great. And then, you know, I tried going to St. Pete Jr. college. and, of course, a college campus, you go into a class, and you'd have some professors standing up there going on, on, on about how... So it's like 1970, 1960, yeah, 1970. Yeah, 70, maybe 71, but right around there.

And they, anyway, you know, everybody was Andy War, and we were the bad guys. And I was a bitter, I was pretty bitter. And, you know, there were, there was a fracas here and there. I'd see some peace sign on a guy's call. You know, I'd get upset about it. And one of my friends told me one time, you know, you can't just go around beating up every hippie. You know, you're going to, if you want to fight back, you know, you've got to, you know, write your story, tell your story, tell what the Marines really did at NOM. And I said, you know, that's a good idea.

So I started taking creative writing at night, and this is after the back surgery, you know, I figured I had to find another way to make a living because I couldn't teach. martial arts and it couldn't be a mailman, bam, all at once. And so I started taking the creative writing thing and they would critique 10 pages a week. So I took the same class 15 times until they critiqued the entire book. So I got the whole book. And finally I had to get a typewriter because I wrote it all with a pencil. And finally got a typewriter and then I had to type it all up. but I started sending it out. It got rejected for four years. Every publisher from New York to

California. I tried Presidio Press out here. I mean, I tried everybody. And it was going nowhere. Well, my wife and I started a Bible study together, and we were in this Bible study every week they'd pray for the needs of the group. You know, and there'd be people battling cancer, you know, a lot of life and needing jobs, this and that. And I was in that job category. I was working at an electronics place now. And so Nancy threw it out at the Bible study. I'd like prayer for Johnny's book to get published. Well, you know, it sounds like a good idea, but they hadn't read this thing. And so when I wrote it, I wrote it, I wanted it to be nonfiction. And I didn't see any way to write about the way the Marines talked in NOM without all the language.

You know, I mean, every other word. Well, you know, you're military. Sometimes the name of a weapon has a four-letter word attached to it. So, I mean, it was just all this foul language. And so I got all these people praying for it. And every week, go to Bible study, and every week, and they're praying for John. And I'm just getting, I'm shrinking. Every week I'm getting shorter.

And so I finally went to my pastor. This has gone up for a long time. And I said, hey, look, you need to read. read this book before you ask him to pray about it anymore. And he read it. And I said, well, what do you think? Should I rewrite it? And he goes, oh, no. He said, that's between you and the Lord. I'm going to tell you what to do. And so I said, okay, so I went home and I told Deity, all right, look, I'm feeling like if I don't rewrite it. We had a memory verse. It was 1st, Samuel 2.30. For those who honor the Lord, I will honor. That's the end of that verse.

and I knew this thing honored the Lord because of Chan's story and his witness and my witness to some of the guys in it. You know, you've read it. So I knew it had a witness for Christ in it, but it really didn't honor the Lord with all that language, you know. And so I finally, I was just so convicted, that stupid verse just haunted me. I couldn't even sleep. So finally, I sat down and I said, I'm going to do it. I'm going to do it. I'm going to do a rewrite.

Well, my professors were writing teachers at St. Pete College, they were, I told him one of those going to do, they were all upset. They said, Johnny, you're going to ruin the best war book we've ever read. It's going to sound like howdy duty joins the Marine Corps. It's not going to work. And I say, I don't care. I got to get the words out of it. I got to change the language. I can't do that. I can't live with it. So I did. And it took months of rewriting just to take all the four little words out and, you know, make it work. And the week I finished taking all the language out of that book. It's a true story. She's here. She's here. She's could be my witness. I had sent off, I'd never had anything published, and I had sent off stories

out of the book to magazines. I'd sent off, you know, excerpts like Troy Bridge and other excerpts, you know, I'd sent off. Well, that week, out of nowhere, I'm getting phone calls from magazines. And the first one, I think, was Eagle Magazine, and then Soldier of Fortune, you know. So I'm picking up the phone and, yeah, Mr. Clark, you know, we'd like to buy, we'd like to print the story. You know, we'll pay you $300. And, you know, I'd never made a dime off my writing. So that sounded like a lot of money. And I said, well, that's fine.

But what story? I never sent you guys a story. And they'd say, oh, yeah, you did. You sent it to us. I said, when did I send it to you? And they'd look at the date. They'd say, oh, well, you sent it to us four years ago. And I said, well, time out now.

How come you're just now finding it? And the publisher would say, well, I really can't explain that. It just turned up in our slush pile. Well, one time, okay, then Eagle Magazine calls. Same thing. We want to print this story. When did I send it? Four years ago.

And you're just now finding it. Yeah, I can't explain that. And I said, okay, and I sold another one. Then I sold your fortune or one. I don't know what else called. And it was the same story. it happened four times. So, I mean, the fourth time,

even a Marine starts getting it. You know, I mean, and so it's like God slapping me around and you honored God. There it is. He honors you. So within a month, I decided to send the book out again.

And I sent it to Random House. I sent it to a bunch of people. But Random House had rejected the exact same book just a year earlier. And I had a rejection notice. Pam Strickler, senior editor at Random House. because I had a little I tore a hole in the roof of my house

because when we had our second kid I didn't have any place to write so I built like a conning tower on the roof of my house went over great with the neighbors and I cut down a telephone pole and I built a little stairway up to my conning tower

so my wife had this telephone pole ladder in the center of our kitchen so I would go up and I write on this conning tower but my teacher, my writing instructor said, you know, to keep up your spirits, save all your rejection notices. And I had. So I had taped all the walls of my conning tower with years of rejection notices.

So Pam Strickler calls me. And she says, you know, Mr. Clark, you wrote this book called Guns Up. And I said, yeah. And she goes, we want to publish this book. And I said, really? And she introduced herself. Strickler and I searched my order go, hey, wait a minute, you just rejected this same book about a year ago and you read it because I can tell the difference when they, you know, stamp it,

no thanks or when they've actually read it. And she goes, I did. And I said, yeah, and I read it to her. And she said, well, if I, yeah, I did read that book. And I said, well, why do you want it now? And she goes, well, it's fabulous. I don't know why we rejected it. And I said, is it because I took all the cuss words out. And she was stunned. And she said, you mean there's no profanity in this book? And I said, not a word. And she said, that's unbelievable. She said, all the readers, junior editors, and me have read this thing. No one noticed that. Then, after some conversation, she says, but Mr. Clark, listen, a Vietnam War book without any profanity, you know, we're probably going to ask you put some profanity in the book.

And I just started laughing. It's her against God. I wonder who's going to win this match. I said, you know, Satan is so sneaky. I mean, here he dangles the biggest publisher in the world at me after never publishing even a sentence. And so I said, no, not a chance, baby. Two chances, slim and none.

And they printed it anyway. It opened up a whole, they published a couple other Vietnam, a P.O.W. be a book about a bunch of guys who put together their own Bible in a POW and Hanoi Hilton or somewhere. Anyway, it opened up the door for other Christian war books. And then, but before that, I had nine publishers that suddenly wanted guns up. And, you know, and then I had to get an agent. And so I got an agent and who wouldn't represent me any other way, only because I'd already sold it because that wasn't nobody. But she made me go with the random house,

and I'm really glad she did. So, yeah, that's how this thing got published. It's an absolute miracle. And God's used it. I could spend weeks telling you all the ways that the Lord's used this silly little book. It's absolutely unbelievable what he's done with this book. I get letters from you wouldn't believe some of the places.

guys that were in penitentiaries in Australia. I mean, you know, the Lithuanian soldiers. I mean, it's unbelievable. The people that are touched by it, these Lithuanian soldiers who wrote me, they said, this was the greatest war book God ever published. Isn't that cool?

Yeah. So anyway, yeah, the book's a miracle. How do, when you got home and, you know, your school, a bunch of hippies in there, how did you, you know, you probably, I mean, I'm sure there's a bunch of veterans from Iraq and Afghanistan that have had a really hard time transitioning it back into the civilian sector. What advice would you have for them? Well, you know what it's going to be.

Honestly, without Christ, I mean, really, I'd say get into a Bible teaching church, you know, non-denominational Bible teaching church somewhere. that just teaches the Word of God and go in and start studying the Bible and see if it's true or not. And, you know, that's how I dealt with the anger and everything else and all the other stuff. And, you know, I mean, it's been a rocky road at times. You know, my wife's been had to go through it, my kids too. And I was diagnosed with severe combat fatigue. And, you know, that's not even...

I almost got combat fatigue from reading the book for crying out loud over here. I mean, yeah, I had, yeah, it's, it's, it's been rough, you know, there's, there's rough moments. I still sleep with a K-bar and I sleep with a gun. And when I don't have it, I don't sleep very well. And that's, that's, I haven't slept well since I've been in San Diego. Well, you're probably afraid that the Mexican police are going to come and try and get you back. I know. I got, I got, I got, uh, some of my black belts are starting up a go fund me page to get me out of, out of the bridge.

this time. Yeah, I would say that. Honestly, all kidding aside, there's really no other answer. I mean, if you don't have the Lord, yeah, yeah, I don't know. I don't know how anybody can function. Life will beat you to death. If you don't have faith, faith in Christ, if you don't know your Bible, you're really, you're walking around blind. Anything could happened to you. Yeah, I couldn't give any other advice that more important than that. I really couldn't. And you ended up running your martial arts school for what, 30, 40 years, something like that? Yeah, yeah, at least 40, maybe. And I still would give black belt test and, you know, like I said, do, you know, go to Annapolis and West Point on occasion. And, you know, I'd still do stuff here and there.

But, yeah, you know, you feel guilty because I like to demonstrate. You've got to demonstrate. You know, you teach. And with all these stupid injuries, you know, I mean, the worst was shoulder surgeries. You know, that was the worst. Out of all my surgeries, shoulder surgery for me was the absolute worst. I've had a couple of back surgeries, no fun either. These stupid shoulder surgeries.

So it takes so long to recoup during that time. You can't teach any kind of takedowns. You know, if you can't use your arms. So, you know, surgeries have gotten in the way. But I might go to Korea next year. Grand Master Park wants me to go to Korea with him. And the highest you can go in taekwondo is ninth done. And I'm a ninth done in the Gita Kwan.

And he wants me to go and get my ninth done and the Kukyuan. I'm an eighth on it, Kirkry one. You know, one last hurrah. See if I can, see if I can fire up again. But it's getting harder. It's getting harder, man. And so you're fully retired now? Yeah, I just write.

Right, yeah, all right. And does that get us up to speed? Is that where we're at? Yeah, yeah, I think so. Does it? And if people want to get a hold of your books, Well, you're at Johnny Clark. So it's J-O-H-N-N-I-E-Clark.com.

Yeah. That's your website. Books are available on there. Yeah, they're on Amazon. And on Amazon as well. And Guns Up and Gunners' Glory are still in bookstores. You know what I mean? They're still in print.

The other books, you know, like No Better Way to Die and the Old Corps. And those are some incredible, they're not my stories, but I wrote about some amazing men, like Francis Hugh Colleen, you know, in Korea. Some of their stories are just off the chart. And it's all based on real Marines, you know. So those books, but they went out of print years ago. They were published by Random House too. But now, you know, then they went out of print, and now they're on Amazon.

Yeah, because you can sell it. Amazon print on demand. Yeah, yeah. Yeah. Well, awesome. Echo Charles, do you have any questions? Yeah, one quick question. Football question?

Okay, he's a football guy. What's a blooper gun? It's got an M79. So like, grenade launcher. Oh, okay. Yeah. Why do they call it blooper? Boop.

Because it made this, bloop. Also kind of like the burp gun because it makes the burps out. Yeah, it would be this very distinctive bloop. And then you'd wait for the boom. Right. So now, or more modern. Do you have any guns like that where you kind of nickname it after the sound? So just FYI in Ramadi, Tasking of Bruiser, had that weapon.

It's called M79. Did you call it? You still had it? We had it. I think it might be gone now, but for whatever reason, the SEAL teams, we always preferred that. Yeah. If you're going to be shooting a lot of them to the 203. The 203 sometimes it get frozen.

Like, it's just, it's not as accurate. It's a little bit harder. so if someone was, let's say, very dedicated to the M70 to launching 40 millimeter grenades, they'd carry that M79. Cool. Yeah, it's a neat little weapon. It breaks down like a little shotgun and you shove an M79 grenade. It's about like that, 40 millimeter shoving in there.

Yeah, it was a neat little weapon. I don't know. It wasn't as useful as the M60, but 40 mic, Mike, right? 40 mic mic. Yes, we call that a 40 mic mic. Did you guys call it the blooper gun, though? No. That's a Vietnam thing.

That's a Vietnam thing. Even like burp gun, right? That's a Vietnam thing. Vietnam thing. That's Korea. Yeah, Chinese burp gun. We'll call it old school then. Yeah.

It's a old school thing. Definitely old school. Yeah, I wish we had that 40 Miller, Mike Mike. Yeah, I wish we had one of those. Right on. Anything else, Ico Charles. Awesome. Good to meet you, sir.

Oh, thanks. Thanks, guys. Sir, any closing thoughts? Well, no, not really. I'm just really blessed and I really, I hope, and I really wanted to talk about not just my book, not just me, but, you know, some of these guys that surfed with, you know, with Sergeant Vince Rios, lost both his legs, came home, got put two sons in the Marine Corps. I think they're officers and got two master's degrees and he lost part of his hand too.

I mean, these guys, you know, they need to be remembered. I served with a bunch of remarkable men. You know, I wrote the book, so, you know, I get way too much credit. I was just a dumb PFC. These other guys, I mean, you know, some of these guys were real leaders.

They were the leaders. I was just an 18-year-old goofy PFC. And I, you know, I hate taking too much credit for too much, other than writing the book, because I served with incredible guys. Corporal Hewtson, lives out here in Washington, wounded a couple of times at Way City, went out in that graveyard, you know, crawled out there with me in the mud. And the things they did every day,

Yeah, you know, they, they deserve to be remembered. Well, I'm glad you were able to come on and share some of those members. I know I always feel the same way. You know, I've written books and certainly don't deserve any of the credit compared to the guys that are, the books are written about. So I share that same thought as you. But it's awesome that you are here and that you did write that book that does memorialize those guys.

So thanks for writing the book. Thanks for joining us. Thanks for sharing your experiences, your lessons learned. And of course, thank you for the service and sacrifice from you and your brothers from the 1-5 Marines. And to all the grunts and all the ground-pounders and the infantry men, especially our beloved machine gunners. Yes. We'll never forget those guys. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

It was one of the harder ways to go. Yes, indeed. Yes, indeed. Well, thank you for everything. Well, thank you. Thank you, Jock. Thank you, Echo. I really appreciate you to have me on.

And I don't want to thank the Marines that ask you to have me on. What's his name again? And what's his company? Adam Crick. So Adam Crick. Yeah. It got goons up, right? Goons up.

He's an Iraq machine gunner. And, yeah, they were a bunch of Afghan and Iraqi machine gunners that they wanted me to get on here. So I don't know how they got hold of you. Yeah, I think they just reached out through social media. And I look forward to having those guys on and having them come and talk about what it was like for them, being machine gunners. Yeah. I'll let them know. But I think they'll probably hear this.

I think they will. Awesome. Thanks again, sir. honor to have you here and of course semper Fidelis yes semper five and with that johnny m clark has left the building pretty awesome to hear just unbelievable story makes us of course really appreciate the sacrifices that have been made so that we can do what we do to live our lives so So appreciate it. Appreciate the guys that connected us

with him. That was much appreciated. Goons up out there. I'm sure, hopefully at some point we'll getting connected and have you guys come and talked about the modern infantry machine gunner. And we'll get some.

Until then, we're getting after it. Joccofuel.com. Right now, we're in Walmart. If you have a Walmart near you, you can go get some moke. You can go get some pre-workout. You can get some powder joccofuel.com you can get whatever you need for your fuel good clean fuel the best clean

fuel joint warfare super krill hydrate greens the whole nine yards you can also get it at wahwa vitamin shop gnc military commissaries afees hanaferr dash stores in maryland wake fern shopwright hb down in texas mire out in the midwest weggman's harris teeter lifetime fitness shields And little gyms, small gyms, big gyms everywhere. Lifetime Fitness, by the way, is not a small gym. That's a big gym. If you want to bring this stuff into your world, email JFsales at joccofuel.com and you can sell it through a wholesale account. There you go.

Also, origin, USA.com. We are trying to support the United States of America. And you can do a one-two punch, a combined. Armed attack. You can support the United States of America. You can support freedom. And at the same time, you can get the best geese, hoodies, jeans, boots. We have new boots out.

I got a pair, by the way. The moccasin. Yeah, they're so nice. There's like cork in them. I was at the factory, the actual factory. And he had it laid out where it's like the different stages of development or whatever. Did you touch the cork? Yes, I did.

It's. I touch it took some, it's like, it's crazy. Yeah, and then you can kind of imagine, wait, this is on the inside of the soul

so you can kind of imagine. I was like, they're so comfortable. They're so comfortable. So if you want to support America, you want to support freedom and you want to support yourself with the best quality items

that are made 100% in America, origin, USA.com gets some. Yeah, it's true. Also, Joko has a store called Jocco store. Go to jocco store.com.

This is where you can represent. Discipline equals freedom. Good. Good. That's a widespread. red one. I'm just saying it's a good attitude to have. It helps, helps a lot. But you want to represent this? You know, we got shirts. That's the big thing, the shirts. We do have hats and

hoodies and stuff like that. We also have shorts too, by the way. Board shorts. Multi-purpose board shorts. Check you out. True story. I like it. Also, shirt locker. It's called the shirt locker. Subscription scenario. You get a new shirt, new design every month. Reflective, representative of the path in different ways. Do I see a guns up t-shirt in the future? That's one of the, once I heard guns up twice. I was like, hmm.

You were asking Johnny when we got done if like that was the beginning of chapters and it's not just I used it to start a lot of the reading. Oh, because a lot of times that's how the event starts. You know, he's on patrol all of a sudden guns up or they're sleeping all of a sudden guns up. Right. So that's kind of the definitely the crux. Definitely the, and it's the title of the book, clearly. So last, or this month, sorry. Yeah, as right now this month, September shirt is bust him.

Yeah, oh, nice. Bust them. I don't really know the origination of that or the origination of that, but it was in my first platoon, and we had this awesome guy named dog. He was kind of putting us through training, and he's the first guy that I, no, I guess they said it in buds, too. Stand by, Bust them. Bust them.

I really, I don't know if it was dog. It might have been dog. I don't know if they said it in buds or not. I forget. But it definitely is a good way to say go. Oh, yeah. But what does it mean? Bust them.

bust them bust like I understand bust So bust the door open it I used to say that Bust that door Yeah Bust it open But then it may be

It evolved from there Into just mean go Right Bust it Yeah Bust them Yeah either way It's fucking sounds dope

And I get I get the message You know what I'm saying So bro I'm gonna represent Is you what I'm saying Anyway yeah It's called the short locker It's all

All of it On jocco store.com Also you might need steak If you do need steak Check out Colorado Craft to beef.com and check out primalbeef.com. Get yourself some steak.

Get yourself some ground beef. Get yourself some beef jerky. Primal beef has some beef jerky. It's really good. So primalbeef.com, Colorado craftbeef.com, check them out. Colorado Kraft Beef has the beef sticks, which are like a Snickers bar. That's good for you. Also subscribe to the podcast.

Also, Jocco Underground.com. Also YouTube channels. You know where they are at. Psychological Warfare. Flipside Canvas. Dakota Meyer. making cool stuff to hang on the wall books i've written a bunch of books but let's face it there's a book called guns up by johnny m clark you can get that book and you should get that book that is a

that whole that whole book is just epic so check that out and like i said i've written a bunch of books i've read a bunch of kids books as well don't forget about those they're good to go as they say echelon front we have a leadership consultancy we solve problems through leadership if you want to Bring us into your organization. Go to Eschlonfront.com. If you want to come to one of our events, go to Eshlonfront.com. If you want to check out our online training, go to Extreme Ownership. com, and you can learn these leadership principles through a virtual platform, an interactive platform.

Check that out. If you want to help service members active and retired, you want to help their families. You want to help Gold Star families. Check out. Mark Lee's mom. Mark Lee, Machine Gunner. Yes, machine gunner. Carrying that Mark 48.

Yeah. That's what he was doing. one. Check out his mom who made an incredible organization called America's Mighty Warriors. It's at America's Mighty Warriors.org. If you want to help out or get involved, go to that website. Also, Heroes and Horses.org. You got Micah Fink helping out military personnel and Jimmy May has got an organization called Beyond the Brotherhood at Beyond the Brotherhood.org. All great organizations. If you want to connect with us, Johnny Clark. Johnny M. Clark.

He's on the interwebs at Johnny. J-O-H-N-N-I-E-Clark.com. That's where you can connect with him. And for Echo, he's on social media. He's at Echo Charles. I'm at jocco.com and also I'm on social media at Jocko Willink. Just be careful because there's an algorithm that will sneak up on you. Like a N-V-A.

Trying to kill you. Just watch out. It's a monster. Don't let it get you. Thanks once again to Johnny M. Clark for joining us. Complete honor to meet you, to speak with you, to share your story, and to share the story of your fellow Marines. And also thanks to all the machine gunners out there in the Army, in the Marine Corps, and in the Navy as well, including Mark Lee, Mike Monsor, and Ryan Job. And the rest of you, automatic weapons gunners.

Thanks for carrying the big gun and protecting the rest of us by putting yourself at risk to lay down the fire. Also thanks to police, law enforcement, firefighters, paramedics, EMTs, dispatchers, correctional officers, border patrol secret service, all other first responders. Thanks for putting yourselves at risk to keep us safe here at home. And to everyone else out there, look, sometimes we think we're, you know, in a slog, kind of slogging through things, think we've got some hard times going on. When that's happening, think about 110 degree heat.

Think about the leeches, the mosquitoes, the rain and the wind and the cold and the monsoons and the dirt and the grime and the bugs and the dysentery and the malaria and the booby traps and the ambushes and the horror, the horror. that these men faced. And yet, in the face of all that, when the call came, they moved forward and got the guns up. Keep that in mind. And that's all we've got for tonight. And until next time, Zekko and Jocko.

Out.