Dalat

Mountains are particularly sweet in hotter climes. Dalat served as a relief with incessant cool summer breezes. The French left a particular stamp on the local architecture. In summary Dalat stood out as a summer resort. Yet, we were not there for rest and recuperation…we were on standby alert.

We sat on one of the many hillsides. I grasped the ambience with my eyes. It was truly a pleasant place. The villas were painted in an array of pastel colors. I thought about hanging out here a day or two. Within the hour, the disruptive call came.  The order to ‘Mount up’ served more to change our mindset; we were already readied. In less than 10 minutes the choppers arrived. A unit of the 173rd had run straight into an enemy basecamp. We would fly in to take the pressure off from them. I would never lay eyes upon Dalat again.

Time flies when your having fun. The day turned to dusk…the dusk to darkness. I was on the first wave. In the pitch darkness, we received orders to jump. The chopper pilot refused to land. (Welcome to Vietnam!) We took turns leaping from the runners. The pilot moved forward at a snail’s pace…to prevent us from landing on those who went before. This was truly Airborne without the parachute.

I leaped into the dark enemy territory by faith and training. Crazy was the norm. The ground strangely gave way beneath me. My first thoughts were that I had landed directly upon a tunnel system. I could feel my butt being stabbed by someone below me…but there was no one. My feet were deeply pinned and immobile. I  had breached the earth’s thin crust and had mired myself up to the armpits. My ruck sack had saved me from literally being swallowed up by the ground.

What do you do when literally pinned deep in enemy territory? My honest answer is…I don’t know. Once I realized that I was temporarily paralyzed from the chest down, I listened briefly for movement. Stark silence enveloped me. I put my M-16 on full automatic fire. I waited. If they spoke English…all was well. If they spoke Vietnamese…we were all going to hell.

Some unknown souls came by. I nonchalantly hailed them…with, “hello.” I was prepared to blow their butts away; I knew they were prepared to blow mine. I had enough sense not to startle them. God bless me….they spoke English! However, they cussed me out while trying to pull me out! I was a 200 lb. turnip rooted into the ground. Once freed, I realized that nothing was broken. We could focus upon that enemy  force lurking in our vicinity. The three of us wandered until we contacted the other troops in the squad.

Waves of choppers landed throughout the first half of the night. All God’s children knew that we were now loaded for bear. The main enemy forces scurried before we could make direct contact. However, I think we lost a troop or two in that rescue operation, from snipers. We did capture much equipment hastily left at the enemy basecamp. Our presence was sufficient for the enemy to cease from attacking our 173rd brothers. Overall, I counted it a good mission. None of my guys were hurt.

Currahees…we returned to a secure area. Senior members of the 173rd silently assembled at attention, on the ridge above us. We marched by. I took this as a thank you. I turned my head and saluted them.