They didn’t get the well drilling rig?”
“No. We couldn’t see all of the convoy from the bridge. Just the well-drilling rig and it was okay. I think just the wrecker.”
Thanks and drive careful. Hurry, but not any faster than is safe. Okay?”
The young Seabee put the weps in gear and with a wave started down the road.
He felt and heard from somewhere behind him oncoming thumps of a Huey. Dan knew it wasn’t directly behind him, but somewhere off to his left over the rice paddies and moving fast. Twisting his upper body he watched the drab green Marine Corp Huey come into view and as it drew beside him he could see the bright red crosses on its nose and fuselage.
Medevac. Looks like it’s headed for the bridge.
Damn! Somebody was hurt by that mine.
He watched as the medevac slowed over the low hill where he had seen the cloud rising from the explosion. Then the chopper slowly settled down out of sight into a purple smoke grenade cloud.
I’d better hayaku out of here!
With that thought he reached for the gear shift pulling the lever down placing the grader in high gear, slipped the clutch out and push the throttle up the full distance of its travel and the engine responded with a belch of black smoke and burst of power. Speed being relative the grader was topping out at about 25 miles per hour but seemed to be flying low in a few seconds.
With quick deft motions of his hands and arms, he finished tucking the blade up tightly into the undercarriage of the machine. He made a finer adjustment of the front wheels so the grader would travel down the road in a straight line before sitting down on the wide seat and laying his M14 across his knees.
Movement at the low hill ahead of him caught his eye and he watched the medevac hurriedly lift high enough to clear the hill. The pilot then made a pedal turn to point the Huey’s nose towards Chu Lai before picking up forward speed. It seemed just seconds and the Huey passed him. The doors were open and Dan could see two litters on the cabin deck.
The grader slowed momentarily as the three dumps trucks passed with quick waves from the drivers and were soon around the next bend and out of sight.
Rather than going to the actual bridge construction site, Dan guided the grader to the left and onto the by-pass that had been built across the creek with two temporary huge culvert pipes and lots of fill dirt. A quick appraisal of the construction site told him that the chief was in fact gone and he was correct in his decision to go directly to the scene of the explosion.
This blast was unlike the first. Smaller, less intense and little more of a thump that he hardly heard and felt over the grader’s bellowing engine. He did see a cloud of blue black smoke and black mud flying from a rice paddy dike and two men in green were thrown back away from the blast.
A figure he hadn’t seen earlier jumped up from where he was lying on top of the paddy dike. As he drew closer he recognized Chief Thomas and realized the chief was pulling his .45 from its holster as he got to his feet and was jacking a round into the pistol’s chamber.
Dan stopped the grader behind the well-drilling rig which was parked on the right shoulder of the highway. He grabbed his M14 and cartridge belt before dropping to the ground from his grader and trotting towards the chief. Several other Seabees and a corpsman were running to the two fallen men.
“What happened, Tom?”
“Booby trap! Watch for an ARVN carrying an American carbine! He was heading that way when I saw him last.” He pointed towards a cluster of three thatched roofed Vietnamese hooches about 50 yards away and started towards them.
Dan followed closely behind with his M14 at the ready.
The chief continued as he hurriedly moved towards the hooches, “He was showing us the wire used to detonate the mine and where it was fired from. When we came onto the dike I realized he was holding the wire in his hand and was dropping back. I hollered and hit the ground just when he jerked on the comm wire. It had a grenade on the other end.
Obviously.” He added.
“The Gunny and Shaw didn’t have time to react. They were right on top of the grenade when it went off.”
A column of brownish painted Korean trucks pulled up before Dan and the chief reached the hooches. In seconds the Korean soldiers set up a perimeter around their trucks and the Seabee convoy. The officer-in-charge of the new arrivals looked around before hurrying towards Chief Thomas and Petty Officer Davis.
“Are you in charge Chief?“ The officer asked in perfect English. ”What happened and what can I do to help you?”
Thomas hurriedly filled in the Korean officer before he was interrupted by a shout from the corpsman who was attending the wounded. “We need another medevac Chief. I can’t do any more for these guys.”
“You got it,” Thomas answered as he broke into a run for his jeep and its waiting radio.
Without waiting for more details the Korean officer shouted to a Korean non-com who seemed to be in charge of the perimeter of soldiers. Within seconds the majority of the Korean soldiers formed a skirmish line and started to infiltrate the cluster of hooches and surrounding paddies. Several soldiers remained on the road to guard their vehicles and the Seabee convoy.
Dan watched as three or four Korean soldiers approached each hooch. One Korean kicked the door open. The two Koreans behind the kicker then quickly entered with their M16’s at the ready.
A burst of automatic AK 47 fire from behind the hooches shattered the quiet that had descended upon the scene. The AK 47 fire was quickly followed by shouts in Korean and several bursts of M16 automatic fire.
Dan dropped down into a kneeling firing position behind a banana tree which was more bush than tree. He felt rather than saw Chief Thomas drop next to him.
“See anything, Dan?
Damn! Look over there at the hooches.” The chief exclaimed.
He turned in time to see one of the Korean soldiers lift his Zippo lighter to the thatching of the second hooch’s roof. The dry under layer of thatch immediately caught in a burst of yellow flame and blue/gray smoke. He looked towards the hooch nearest to the road realizing that its roof had been torched from the opposite side. Flame and smoke was billowing over the roof’s peak and starting to roll out the door.
An elderly Vietnamese man and woman ran out of the second hooch their arms full of blankets and the woman had a large metal pot on her head instead of a non la. Seconds after they escaped through the door the interior of their hooch became engulfed in an inferno of yellow flames and black smoke. Turning back towards her home the woman screamed and cried as she threw herself to the ground a few feet from the flames which were reaching out for her. The man dropped his precious load of household items and blankets to drag his screaming diminutive wife to safety.
Two young Seabees with M14s slung over their shoulders ducked low, sprinted under the inferno that was swooping down on them. Scooping up the Vietnamese couple’s most valuable possessions the young Bees took the older couples life’s possessions out of reach of the furiously burning fire.
There was just the popping and crackling of the hooches burning and every few seconds a swooshing of heat and flames as a gust of wind passed through the burning hooches. The gunfire had ceased.
In four or five minutes passed before from behind the third burning hooch several Korean soldiers appeared dragging two black pajama clad bodies. One Korean followed the bodies carrying two AK 47’s, the favorite VC weapon, while another Korean carried what appeared to be two locally manufactured claymore mines. They were about as big around as a really large pizza and covered with black tar and felt roofing paper and each had a short piece of comm wire hanging from it.
The Korean officer walked around from the most distance of the flaming hooches and approached Chief Thomas.
In the distance the ‘thump-thump’ of an approaching Huey’s rotor blades became louder as the inbound second Marine medevac circled the area before settling do
wn next to a green smoke grenade a Seabee had dropped on a cleared section of the highway.
“My men found these two hiding in the brush on the edge of the rice paddy. But they were unable to find the ARVN soldier who exploded the grenade.
I am sorry and hope all your wounded will recover. Seabees are very brave men. We see them out here repairing the road so that we can get supplies from the LSTs at the Chu Lai docks.”
The Korean officer was interrupted by the medevac winding up its jet engine to lift off the road and at tree top level turn sharply towards Chu Lai with one wounded Seabee and one wounded Marine.
“We’ll fix the road so you can be on your way as quick as we can. But it will be a while to get enough fill to build a temporary fix.” Chief Thomas told the Officer.
“That will be fine. We’ll stay with you until it is safe to resume your trip. I will have one truck lead you to our camp and a second to watch your back until you reach Binh Son.”
Finished with what he had to say, the Korean spun on his heel and signaled his troops to renew their positions around the two convoys. The two VC bodies were casually thrown onto the bed of the last truck in the convoy and the two Korean soldiers who had dragged the bodies from the paddy climbed onto the truck clamoring over the blood soaked corpses as if they were two sacks of rice.
Dan smelled burning wood and became aware of the light blue smoke drifting across the road from the remains of the burning Vietnamese hooches. Spastically a pop or hiss would come from the red hot ashes and a flame would flare up when the fires found fresh fuel to consume.
“There’s the first load of fill Tom. Want me to get him dumped then start fixing the road before the other two trucks get here?
I think I can make two passes with the first couple loads of laterite and get the Koreans and well drillers on their way to Binh Son.”
“Sounds good to me. After the two convoys get going you can take your time and as many loads of laterite as you need to fill the mine crater.
How many loads are they going to bring out?”
I told the builder that you sent in, to have them keep coming until we send the word back for them to stop.”
“Good deal. Unless you can see some reason to bring the loader out here, turn him loose with the dumps when you have enough fill. Chief Barrett needs some fill hauled for the road into the milk plant. So if they have time left before quitting time they can start hauling for him. I think Burgess has his grader there today.”
“Gotcha. I can’t think of any reason to bring the loader out here either, I can side cast the laterite into the crater until I fill it up enough to run loaded dumps on it for compaction after I build a nice little ramp in and out of the crater for the dumps.”
“Alpha Company has asked the Marines to send out a tank retriever to help us get the wrecker back into Chu Lai. He can also help us drag the wrecker engine and winch out of the rice paddy. As you can see there isn’t much left of the front end. No wheels, no axle. Engine and winch are out there in the rice paddy.”
“Couldn’t cut off the front end any better with a cutting torch, Chief. Where are all the pieces?”
“Look almost straight out about a hundred yards you can see the winch sticking out of the mud and water. Next to the paddy dike on the left is a pile of black dirt. That’s where the engine hit before bouncing over the dike and into the other paddy.”
“Shit. The engine went about 75 yards didn’t it? Where are the wheels and axle, Chief?”
“We haven’t really looked for them yet and I think that we have two very lucky Seabees that are still with us.”
“Yeah. Hurting, but still amongst the living. The wrecker driver had his left foot on top of the sandbag between the brake and clutch. Everything ripped apart and tore up so much that we had to cut the pedals off his foot with a torch the well drilling crew had. The shotgun had some bad lacerations and probably lost at least one ear drum.” Chief Thomas added before turning and heading for his jeep
With a quick smile and wave he told Dan as he slid under the jeep’s steering wheel. “Don’t find any mines today. Okay Dan? We still have to find the rest of the front end from this one. I’m sure it’s in small pieces scattered all over these paddies.”
SIX
The Vietnamese sun was warm with a light breeze blowing across Highway 1 and the mud had dried up considerably. Dan Davis was about a quarter of a mile south of the Highway 1 gate of the Chu Lai military cantonment. He felt that he was finally starting to make some progress in getting the road dry enough to start grading some fill to widen the road bed and repair the torn up shoulders. In a couple weeks the rock crusher would start producing enough crushed rock so they could put a finish onto a newly repaired highway.
Damn, the Vietnamese rock haulers are tearing up the laterite pit road again. Dan thought as he looked down the road leading to a Vietnamese rock quarry and the Seabee laterite pit. For several days the Seabees had been hauling 25 or so loads of laterite from the pit every day loading the military dump trucks with a front end loader. They were sharing the road with the Vietnamese rock quarry and its truck drivers and the operators of the quarry didn’t do much, if any maintenance on the haul road, maybe in hopes that the Seabees would do it.
I just as soon make a pass or two over it now since I’m here. Not that the Vietnamese will care or say thank you. Our trucks will make better time on it though and it will make the driver’s ride a little more bearable.
He swung the grader into the haul road and started grading the extreme right side of the road in hopes that he wouldn’t have to make more than three or four passes over the quarter of a mile of road going to the laterite pit.
Lots nicer to work the laterite now that the rain has stopped. Stays just moist enough to get good compaction.
Weird. There’s not a rock on the road bed. I guess the Vietnamese load their trucks so they don’t lose any.
Dan was looking all around as he worked closer to the turn off to the Vietnamese quarry coming up on his left. There were two medium sized Vietnamese trucks with flatbeds and about 18” wooden sideboards being loaded by hand. A group of women were carrying large, heavy duty baskets which they could barely lift above their heads and were dumping the full baskets into the head high beds of the trucks. One man, who he figured was the driver, was on the bed of each truck and as each basket was dumped he would spread out the pile of golf ball sized rocks.
The rest of the workers, male, female,and children were scattered about the site all busily doing their jobs. All the women and most of the children worn black pajama bottoms while most of the men wore black cutoff shorts which exposed their skinny, but muscular leg muscles. Contrary to the work especially dangerous to feet and legs everyone on the quarry site was wearing some sort of sandal like what we call zories or Ho Chi Minh sandals which were hand made from old tires. All of the women had on a non la and many wore an additional scarf of various colors to protect their face from the sun and long sleeve shirts to cover their arms. Dark or sun tanned skin was not a desirable thing to any Vietnamese woman.
Near the top of the rock face, 20 or 30 feet above and to the right of a flat working area where the trucks were being loaded, were several men with sledge hammers, steel pry bars and wooden poles made from the 4” or 5” diameter tree trunks, working on the rock face. Several pieces of rock had fallen off the face to the right of where these men were prying at a car sized slab of rock. Some rocks that had been ripped off the face were the size of a small refrigerators while some were larger than a Volkswagen ‘Bug’. Several men were attacking these larger rocks that had already fallen from the quarry’s face with sledge hammers and wooden wedges producing basketball sized hunks of rock.
Well away from the quarry face was a group of women and children, ten or maybe a dozen of each, were squatting flat footed,Vietnamese style, next to a pile of the basketball sized rocks. Each of them had a small single handed ham
mer and were chipping off smaller hunks of rock which were sorted by size into four or five different baskets. One held golf ball sized such as was being loaded onto the trucks while in another basket were small rocks about the size of hazel nuts. When a basket became level full, a man who appeared to be in charge, would mark something on the slip of rice paper he had attached to a clipboard. One of the bigger boys or a woman would then take the basket to a larger pile of rocks of equal size near where the trucks were being loaded and dump it on the pile then return to the rock crushing crew with the empty basket.
Dan had stopped the grader and was sitting quietly watching the busy working life of the quarry. I wish that I had my camera with me. Nobody working construction in the States would believe this.
At the same time he recognized one of the trucks which he saw almost daily hauling on Highway 1. The driver looked up and seeing that Dan was watching him, stood up full height, (5’ or maybe 5’1”) and with the same big smile that he gave the grader operator on the highway, waved vigorously at him before dropping back down to continue smoothing out his load.
Dan waved back and smiled as the driver was crouching back down. He let out the grader’s clutch to continue grading.
I could use a cup of coffee and a pecan roll. Wonder where Ryder is with the chow wagon? Dan thought as he turned back onto Highway 1 having finished grading the haul road. He looked south down the highway towards an expanse of sand that the roadcut went through some wind blown sand dunes. The spot where their new first class driver and second in charge of the road crew usually parked the trailer he had cumshawed from the Seabee builders to hold the road crew’s few tools, three 5 gal insulated water jugs full of ice water and several cases of C-rations, also a product of cumshaw from supply. If nothing else, the Highway 1 road crew was well watered and fed. It was little enough to pay the crew which spent more time in or near the Viet Cong than many of the rest of the Seabees in the battalion did.
A couple minutes of travel, grading as he went and the trailer and the crew’s weps came into sight partially hidden by the curve of the roadcut sand dune. Squatting flatfooted in the shade of the weps were several of the local village girls with their baskets of goodies. Dick Ryder, the new first class driver, second in charge of the road crew, was sitting in the shade on the truck’s running board drinking from a C-ration can of what Dan knew would be fresh brewed instant C-ration coffee.