Can you say SNAFU...the chinooks delivered us to a mountain top where we spent one night at a radio relay station. The next morning we were airlifted on Huey helicopters, descending onto the desert.
The Huey door gunners raked the area with machine gun fire before setting us down to find out up close and personal whether or not it was a hot landing zone compliments of the local welcoming committee, Charley Cong.
As soon as the helicopters hovered six feet above the ground, we jumped and ran...quickly forming a perimeter of defense around the landing zone.
You're in "The Killing Zone" now. Keep your eyes open...every second. People hate you here, and want to kill you with every fiber of their being. Death is all around us...if not here waiting for us we're lucky...maybe life will end a hundred yards down the trail...maybe a mile away...maybe tonight. But you can't think about that too much or you'll go crazy...just be aware...always alert. Your life depends on it!
That's me on the left, and on the right flanked by Ortel and Isenbart, doing the old army hurry up and wait shuffel. The area we were standing in was recently defoliated with agent orange...but we knew not of its effects then...
Then it's off to find our elusive friend in the black pajamas, Charley Cong...
what's that shadowy form behind that tree? Did that bush move? Is there a sniper in the treeline?
That ground looks uneven...could be a booby trap there in the trail...
Make every step a careful one...if you don't, it might be your last step...
