To battle we went

Short story about a u.s. Marine squad being flown in to fight in la drang, Vietnam

We were scheduled to board the Huey in about two hours, we were going to la drang "the shadow of the valley of death" they called it. It was suppose to get hairy out there, I was battle ready though, and Fox was too. We were finally gonna see some action.
When we hopped in the bird they asked me to handle the 60' on the side of the chopper and I liked looking out the side door so I accepted. I'd never even see any action on the gun anyhow. We were 1.5 miles out so the birds dropped to tree top level. A bullet snapped and hit the side of the chopper. I saw a group of tightly packed VC running across a small ville a ways out.
I lead the tip of the barrel out a little and shot a few rounds out. I hit one in the stomach, and that sent the rest of em' running before I could get any more of them.
We were coming up on the LZ, it was smoky and all burnt to s**t. It honestly looked pretty peaceful from the sky. Then I heard the yelling and the stench of human waste stung throughout my nostrils. I heard a few bullets wiz by me. I was scared shitless. We didn't even touch down, they just wanted us to jump. Fox threw a shell in his thumper and hopped out rolling out as he hit the floor. I was up next, but was hesitant. The replacement door gunner pushed me out and I fell right on my face. Exactly what I was expecting. We started running in to battle faster than we could even think, but it was go time. I dropped to my knees in a creek bed and started firing at the trees. No one could see them but we just shot hoping to hit something. I inserted a new magazine, and got up, and started running. I saw a black man getting ready to set up on a medium sized dirt mound, I saw a NVA preparing a mortar. He dropped it into the hole. The shell landed right in front of the man on the hill taking his legs off. I watched him struggle to hold in his insides, it was horrific. I had to ignore my civil thoughts and trudge forward into the front lines. I laid down and started looking for movement in the trees in front of me. I could see running, and rustling in the trees. I started to open fire again. We keep taking ground and moving forward, it was all happening so fast without giving us the chance to asses the situation. The bullets were ceased for a second as me and a group of eleven, give or take a few men were laying in the creek bed. We laid there for 2 hours with no movement or strange activity. I took a squad of 6 including myself into the wooded jungle that lied ahead. We ended up at the top of an inclined area and it was beginning to get dark. Nightfall was upon us. We were trying to radio back to the rest of the men who were waiting back at the LZ. They told us that pressure was being applied back at the creek bed and that we were cut off from any other groups of friendly forces. They promised that they would come to get us before the night was over. It was nearing 2:30 am and we had been trying to radio back for a hour. "God damnit bravo company, when are you going to come get us? It's 2 am and we need to get back with the squad" that's what the leader O'ryan was whispering into the radio, "well, the Vietnamese aren't letting us breathe and we.. We can't get to you tonight" that was the message that every fiber of my being was dreading, and that was the message I received. As I took some time to soak in what my ears had picked up a man named Sullivan in the front tapped the radio operators arm, he shot a flare up and the 60' started popping off. Right back into battle we went. As I tried to understand the chaos happening around me, and as I tried to react correctly I noticed something. I noticed all the death around me. I had become a marine so that I could help people, so that I could fight the good fight. I'm not sure if this was that fight. Who was right in the conflict anyways, Who decided that? We were all just a kid from somewhere fighting for what we were taught to believe in. Well isn't it the same for the enemy? I'm sure that even Charlie had a family at home they longed to see again. I know I missed mine. Some nights when we were out on a long patrol like the once were on now, I would stay awake all night and glance at the moon. I wondered if my family was looking at the same moon at home. I wondered if my dad ever fixed the squeaky door hinge on the garage he had always complained about, and most of all I wondered if they were proud of me. That question always ran across my head. Did they support what we were doing? Cause s**t I didn't know what to believe in. The thought of all the wasted life that was toppling over around me became my main focus once again. It didn't seem right that all these men should die just to protect an idea, to protect something that was just merely a thought. When I was in nam I had seen dead children and dead women, stuff we didn't have to deal with in the states. But here? Here that was just how it was, and that's how we accepted it.

Author's Note

This story is not yet completed. Feedback would be appreciated.

Reviews

[James Glazier]

Great story line :) the characters are vivid, and alive. Put more work on here the reviews are great.