Flashback on a Snap

Winding down a search and destroy mission, we got an unusual order. There were strays from a military engagement heading our way. We were told to string out in a line to net them in.

We always circled the wagons by nightfall. A circular perimeter was the choice defense, whether you formed as a platoon, company or battalion. It kept life simple: those on the inside are presumed friendly, shoot anything that moves outside the perimeter.

Stringing into a line meant your front and backside where both unsecure. It also left a tiny doubt about the right and left. I just didn’t like it. This was just one of those crazy nights in Vietnam.

The radio man and I built a nice low poncho hooch. We could see 360 degrees on the prone. We both left nothing to chance.

We set up just before the evening monsoon rain. We were sleeping dry tonight. That sure helped us get some sense of rest. I turned in early.

The RTO tapped me for watch. This wasn’t just radio watch; we were peering through the rain for movement, straining our ears for the slightest sound. Those enemy strays could walk right up on our position.

About 10 minutes into my watch, I heard a loud snap. It happened while I was outstreached, reaching for something. I was on hands and toes, now peering intently toward that snap.

I frequently say that I am from Maine. I grew up hunting deer, in all kinds of inclement weather. Rarely will a large animal snap a branch…unless completely startled. However, it would take a weighty being to snap a branch that loud, especially soaked in the wet rain. My military mind thought it must be the escaping enemy heading our way.

Without moving more than a slight of hand, I secured my weapon and flipped it on automatic. I remained on one hand and toes. I didn’t move nor speak, for fear that I would compromise our own position. A short burst from my M16 would pretty well sum up the situation anyways. The intensity made the time fly. When I woke up the radioman, I was already ten minutes into his watch.

He asked if I had overslept. I told him about the noise in front of us. He acknowledged and took over staring into the drizzle. I hit the sack…knowing he was a good soldier.

Currahees…that snap was real and it was damned close. I will never know the source of that sound…we were always one misstep away from eternity. We relied on each other, as if our lives depended on it. They did.