Three more choppers landed. I took my position behind Etscorn and we made our way to the back of the chopper. In a few minutes our gun team and the rifle squad all made it aboard. We took our places on wooden benches on the side. Those who didn't get a seat on the bences knelt down in the middle isle. The ramp went up and we were airborne. Twenty feet, a hundred feet, two hundred and fifty feet, five hundred, two thousand, ten thousand feet. We leveled off at about twenty thousand feet right behind the first three choppers, heading to parts known to the pilot, the generals and other brass, and not to us. I looked aout the window and saw nothing but graveyards and bomb craters below. This was a land of graveyards and bomb craters.

In what seemed like about 10 minutes we came upon a wide open space that looked like many thousands of acres partly surrounded by dense unpenetratable jungle. The helicopter descended quickly and landed with a thud in the middle of a field. From the jungle came the sound of a Russian made AK47...crack...crack...crack...and then the ZZZzzzingggg of ricocheting bullets. Instinctively everyone ducked. One man was hit in the leg. The ramp lowered and we all ran in a single file into a field of tall elephant grass immediately forming into a blocking formation and spreading out as we went just like we were trained to do back in ITR. When the last man stepped off the craft, the bird instantly went airborne taking only the wounded Marine with it. I remained in my position behind Etscorn. Tex was in front of him, and Mike Coleman was in front of Tex.

By this time the company had all arrived and were making a half circle formation in the grass which came up to the shoulders in some places. The temperature was hovering around one hundred degrees. The humidity and the weight of our equipment made it seem hotter. We then formed into a sweeping formation and started through the grass. The edges of elephant grass is like razor blades, and already everyone had bleeding scratches on their fore arms. Some of the Marines started dropping out from heat exhaustion. To our relief this slowed us down. The leuitenant was clearly frustrated. He was barking orders at the sargents, and the sargents were in turn barking at us. I took one of my canteens from my cartridge belt to take a drink of water. The water was about the same temperature at the atmosphere, so it did not quench my thirst. Later I would get used to drinking warm water. This first time drinking it was a little shock to my psyche.

Proceeding through the field we swung around a small clump of bamboo trees and headed east toward a tree line when another burst of AK47 fire sounded from under the brush from the left. We all hit the ground except for the forward part of the column. They returned fire with M-60 machine guns, M-16 rifles, M-79 grenade launchers and regular hand grenades. The firing lasted for a few minutes and then ceased. The Vietcong had either fled or were shot. Most likely it was the former. Their tactic was to shoot and then flee. They wouldn't have shot unless they had a way of escape. Either a tunnel system to jump into, or another route of escape that was well planned out. They did not do things in a hap hazard way. Four grunts volunteered to go forward into the underbrush to see if they could find them, while everyone else gave them cover. After about fifteen minutes of searching and coming up with nothing the grunts came out of the underbrush. We pulled back and humped about two thousand more clicks, set up a perimeter, dropped our gear and proceeded in digging in for the night.

Once our holes were dug and we were resting up a bit it was decided that two platoons would go out and try to make contact with the Vietcong in the area. One platoon would stay back and guard the perimeter. Our gun team was picked to go out on this little operation.

DODGE CITY

We were to acompanie 3rd platoon. Heading off into the jungle we soon came to a clearing. To the left was a birm wall. What this wall was doing way out in no mans land, I don't have a clue. When both platoons were in the clearing suddenly there was a burst of AK47 that rang out. The sound of ricocheting bullets whizzed overhead, and another burst danced in the dirt in a straight row near where we were. We all sprang into action. Coleman saw one of the cong shooting with his rifle on top of the birm a little distance away, so he and Tex ran ahead with the gun to a little mound about sixty meter away. Tex put the gun down and pumped about three hundred rounds in the direction of the gook. Meanwhile Etscorn and I caught up with them and threw down our belts of machine gun ammo in the grass so Tex and Coleman could have easy access to them. I then started firing my rifle in the direction of the birm wall. I didn't see the gook, so I didn't know what I was firing at.

The order came to charge the birm wall. I grabbed the unused ammo from the ground and threw it around my shoulders and started running toward the wall with Coleman, Tex and Etscorn. At the foot of the wall another burst of AK47 rang out. We hit the dirt and returned fire. Again I did not see where the firing was coming from. Someone yelled that Rocky was hit and then called for the corpsmen. Rocky was an African American from North Carolina. He was the blooperman for 3rd squad. That means he carried an M-79 grenade launcher. He had 90 days left in this God-forsaken country and was looking forward to going home. No one realized that he was going to his permanent home...today.

The two corpsmen ran up to where Rocky had fallen in the grass. They had their medical bags in both hands in front of them. Immediately they crouched down around him and started to administer first aid. Minutes later two grunts were carrying Rocky in a make shift stretcher made out of a poncho. The corpsman was carrying a bottle of fluid in the air with a tube attached to Rocky's arm. They were bringing him off the side of the birm wall to get him on flat ground. "Set him down here!" the senior corpsman commanded. "I'm going to give him a shot of morphine!" The grunts set him down in the grass. The corpsman stabbed a fresh needle into a small bottle and drew out the liquid, and then started to insert it into Rocky's arm. At that moment all the blood in Rocky's body pumped out of the hole in his neck where the bullet had entered. He died. The senior corpsman was beside himself in grief. The medivac chopper had just landed in the field behind us. Rocky's body was carried on board and the chopper flew off.

We continued up to the top of the birm wall. On top we immediately opened up with our weopans spraying the jungle infront of us with all the lead we could afford. Word came that the command post had called in an air strike. We had to lay down on top of the wall face down with our hands tucked under our bodies protecting our family jewels. The Phantom came and swooped down in front of us and let loose a load of bombs about one thousand meters away. The bombs hit with a series of loud explosions. Seconds later a wall of dirt, dirt clods and rocks came raining down on us. The jet then circled around for a second time a little closer to our direct front. The second load again showered us with more dirt and rocks. A few of our men were injured from the falling debris. Medivac choppers were again called to take away the wounded.

When the dirt settled we all stood up and brushed the dirt off of our clothes and weapons, and then proceeded down the other side of the wall. The jungle that was once infront of us was now a tangled mess of vines, uprooted trees, and a number of brand new craters of freshly turned reddish dirt. We got into a column and marched about a quarter of a mile into a large open grassy field where we set up a perimeter. I happened to be looking across the field and saw a gook standing waste high in the elephant grass about two thousand meters away. He didn't have a shirt on and just stood there looking at us. He had a chubby, round face. I put the saftey selector of my rifle to automatic and aimed in the general direction of the gook and squeesed the trigger and shot off the entire seventeen rounds of the magizine in two or three bursts. Nobody was in any mood to go out and see if I got him. After that we walked back to our gun position. It was expected that we would get hit that night, so we dug our machine gun hole, and fox holes deeper then usual. As night fell, the frogs started to croak, and the crickets started to sing. Misquitos started buzzing around your ears. The smell of the vegatation was strong. It made your eyes water. Somehow we got through it all to live to see another day.