Charlie

INTRODUCTION BY: 1

U.S. AIR FORCE OFFICER J.B. KNOWLES2

"Alright boys, time to roll!"3

Stepping out onto the tarmac, is a feeling nothing in the world can match. The knowledge that you are going to be up in the sky in a few minutes is unbelievable. My fingers swept the metal doors leading from the Mess Hall to the open air, it felt rough. I pulled my hand away as quickly as possible, I did not want to linger... I wanted to fly, now! The air blowing from the west always brought in a breeze to the camp. Most times the breeze was almost better than the extra ration of alcohol we got when we completed a mission successfully, almost.4

U.S. MARINE LOUIS HOPKINS5

"Let's go guys, we have to make it to the checkpoint before sundown. That's twenty five miles in ten hours boys, let's go!"6

I pulled the flap aside and I exited the "mess" tent. I was slapped across the face by the heat. Vietnam can get very warm during the summer. I straightened out my uniform, already in shambles and only two weeks old. Just being transferred from a land unit based back in the States, the terrain of Vietnam was quite a change.7

"Grunt, get moving! We are on a schedule here, the brass need us at the checkpoint!" I hate being a grunt, it sucks.8

Carl turned to me, "Twenty five miles... isn't that twice as far as we had to go last time?"9

"Yeah," I chuckled, a nervous chuckle. It was something I tended to do whenever I got nervous. Laughing hurt. My lungs are still not used to the heavy air of Vietnam. 10

I pushed my legs to move. It seems here you have to push any part of your body to obey you. If it's not swollen from bug bites or lack of blood flow, then it is swollen from pure fear. Fear has become a life style we live in here. The boy you knew back in high school, who could beat up anyone, never afraid of anything, would be peeing his pants in Vietnam. 11

I held my gun in my hand and then I threw it over my shoulder, we had a long way to walk, it would get heavier carrying it in my hand. Our backs bore the weight of almost fifty pounds of equipment. All the equipment is used to keep us alive. We have, supposedly, everything we would need if we were to have to stay out in the jungles of Vietnam. Who knows about that though. I've been on eight missions, I would consider that a "veteran", yet I've never had to spend the night alone in the jungles, thank God.12

We started trudging our way out of the camp. It got darker and darker as we kept walking deeper into the jungle. Daylight was slowly being scratched out of our existence and we were being thrown into the world of darkness. If I closed my eyes I could pretend like I was in a video game or a horrible science fiction-thriller-movie. Pretending these things made the time go somewhat quicker, especially those long walks with nothing.13

We were fighting an enemy most of us knew nothing about. Most of us don't even know who we are fighting. Instead of calling our enemy all the North Vietnamese Army, they are "gooks", "Viet Cong", "VC", "Cong", or just "Charlie." The North Vietnamese Army was a different organization than the VC's. VC are their own army. They are what we call guerrilla fighters. They wear no uniforms, they have no special insignia they wear. When you walk into a village, the old man with a cane sitting by the fire could be VC, the teenagers playing, could all be VC. Even the woman cooking dinner could be VC. That is the problem, we don't know who we are fighting. That is what makes this war scary.14

Time seems to stop in the air and hang on your breath. What seems like eight hours could only be five minutes in reality. To make time pass, I daydream. I daydream about home, about what life will be like after the war and I, like most men, dream about girls. I left a special girl behind, but not "the" special girl. We were best friends, nothing more. I never made a move. I have been away from home for two years now. I still write to her, but I realize I probably lost a great thing. I don't like thinking about it as much as I like to think about what I will do after the war. I think I will go back to college and study to become a doctor. unfortunately, I dropped out of Michigan State University to join the Marine Corps., I felt it was my duty to serve in war time.15

Yes, I would go back to college. This goal later on, would become an obsession. I snapped back to reality and realized I had been zoning out for the last half hour. We were already deep into the jungle. All light was gone, except for traces every now and then. I would consider Vietnam the epitome of darkness.16

"Halt!" I heard McCallum yell.17

We all instantly stopped and crouched off the trail. Our guns were all searching. What was left of our hearing and the little sight we had were both on alert. Everything seemed to draw my attention: the wind rustling the leaves in the bush, even the ant crawling next to me. McCallum was somewhere up ahead. I couldn't see him, so I was not sure what he was doing. Finally, "Alright, let's keep movin."18

I breathed a quick sigh of relief, no combat... yet. I felt my nerves un-tense slightly and my heart continue it's normal beat.19

"Shit..." I whispered to no one.20

We walked for another three hours. They were uneventful hours, surprisingly. We encountered no heavy resistance, which we expected when we were approaching our target. I felt a sudden head on my cheek and a ringing in my ear.21

"We're under fire!" Somebody, anybody screamed.22

A bullet had just grazed my head. I fell backward from the shock. I heard random words being thrown out into the open. I pushed my hands into the Earth and I stood up. My gun was all ready for me. I looked for the nearest target. A light flashing in front of me caught my gaze. Gunfire. They were firing in my direction. I fired many rounds into their direction, finally the one gun stopped firing, but many more lit up the darkness. I quickly glanced around.23

All of my fellow platoon members who could still shoot were firing like crazy. If it moved, they shot at it. If they thought it moved, they shot at it. These men were no longer firing at Charlie, these men were firing at ghosts.24

Someone threw a grenade. the grenade landed somewhere nearby. I, again, was thrown backward. The grenade exploded and screams ripped through the darkness. I stood up as soon as I could. I started firing in the direction the grenade was thrown. Men were screaming in all directions. The noises echoed in the otherwise silent forest. My head was rattling and I had my eyes closed. My finger was pressed to the trigger in a vital effort. I stumbled over and my face was planted into the mud. I tried to stand up.25

Another grenade was thrown into what was left of our platoon. The VC must have had us surrounded in a semi-circle. I had my head in the mud, which was lucky. I took heavy damage to the back though. I felt something heavy land on me. It knocked the wind out of me. The grenade landed close by.26

I waited until the grenade was finished. Then I tried to get up. I stood on all fours and pushed the heavy thing off of me; if flopped on the ground. I was still on all fours and I looked around. I saw a man lying face down near where the grenade exploded, he was probably what was thrown onto my back. I rushed to him and quickly turned him over. I threw up into the dirt next to his body.27

The man's face was blown off. His skin had been burned away and boils were flowing down his face and onto his neck and hands. Imagine hamburger meat, uncooked and cooked, that is what this mans face looked like. It was horrid. What used to be his nose was flattened to his face and the slit of a mouth was frozen forever in the unforgettable position of a scream.28

I ripped open the man's coat to find his dog-tags. I pulled them out quickly and read them.29

CARL WEBBER...30

I stared at the tags, then at the man's scarred, burned face. I could see a part of Carl in that burned hunk of flesh. I started breathing heavily as I stood up. I stumbled up and looked around. Instantly I fell back to all fours, afraid of drawing VC attention. I looked around. My eyes searched for anyone still alive... Becker, Tracy, Morgan, McCallum, all dead. There were many craters. More than two grenades had exploded. McCallum, our platoon leader, had been shot eight times. He was the only one I could recognize without dog-tags. I was the only one left alive.31

I collected all the dog tags and moved the bodies to a spot on the trail, that was frequented by Marines. I would head back, alert the commanders of our failure and loss, give them the dog-tags, and they could come back for the bodies. My arm was bleeding profusely. I had a three inch wound that was oozing blood like no tomorrow. Bullets hurt like hell. 32

Another freaking grenade exploded. This one was probably a napalm bomb, to incinerate the bodies... so there were no traces left. I was glad I moved the bodies. Unfortunately, the VC, meaning to or not, lit my only known escape route, on fire. I was trapped. With any luck, I could be able to circle around and meet up with the trail again. But for the moment, I was heading deeper into the Viet Cong Jungle.33