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Reconnaissance Platoon In February , I put together a team of Vietnam he volunteered to return to Vietnam and was assigned to MACV-SOG at Da.


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Reconnaissance Platoon In February , I put together a team of Vietnam he volunteered to return to Vietnam and was assigned to MACV-SOG at Da.


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No sooner had the chopper hit the ground than NVA swarmed it executing the wounded. I turn back toward the last fire and 鈥 there it is again 鈥 and again. I take the lead. I position the Interpreter and Point to provide covering fire in case of an ambush. Superstitious little suckers. Sau pulls an Air Force Survival radio from his rucksack, turning it on, waving it at me as he plugs in the ear jack and whisper mic. Everyone lines up behind me in order of descent. The Pilot turns the big exit door of the Kingbee to face the downed ship. Maybe all that playing with C-4 has addled my brain. An occasional crackle from the fires snaps us to full auto readiness. As I move into position to make the final advance, I sense a shadowy presence moving up on me from the rear. Point strongly objects to walking off into the darkness with only three of us. Suddenly I become aware of moths and insects fluttering up and about intensifying my awareness of our surroundings even further. Am I nuts? How the hell did the Pilot find this little hole in the Laotian jungle in the middle of the night? Slowly we move through the blackness struggling with the demonic vegetation. Fireflies advance before me, rippling out like a stone thrown in a pond, leading the way. Their last extraction chopper has been shot down; several were killed on impact. Come on, move! The Medic squats in the shadows, waiting for orders. A fuel fire silhouettes bats swooping in and out catching the myriad of moths and flying insects that are attracted to its illumination. The good news is there are survivors. Somebody wake up the damn point man! Flickering spot fires flare around the downed chopper, which is lying on its side in the middle of an LZ. Snakes and small furry nocturnal creatures scatter under each footstep. Where are you? Quietly we listen for any sound of life other than our own. Black Jr on the right with CAR, vest and indig ruck. The chopper crew would be four and add the six from the HF that would be ten. The nose of the ship is north. His hands are tied behind his back, he has been executed, a single shot to the head. This is like trying to work your way through Brer Rabbits Briar Patch blindfolded. Finally, I barely make out Point motioning me to him; reaching out into the darkness I take his hand and he guides me to his side.

Lynne M. Point raises his hand, getting our attention, and then motions down directly to his front. To my left, a low mooching sound; Point is calling me to his location. Sau and I climb into the wreckage looking for survivors.

I fish a penlight out of my One-Zero vest and crawl under the poncho for a view. Seconds seem like torturous hours. Once again, I turn looking back in the direction of the downed chopper; no longer can I make it out.

There it is! Please come to our location. We have found three bodies, over. Swiss seats, snap links ready. I sit in the door to be the first man out. In this position closer to the ground, straining to sharply focus my eyes, I can discern faintly glowing objects on the forest floor. Final weapon and gear check.

I nod my head printable blackjack betting chart compliance. I point North blackjack mac v sog the nose of the ship, he nods his understanding.

Sure, tell the enemy where you are. The further we make our way into this world, with our newly honed blackjack mac v sog senses, the more we become aware of the small eyes of thousands of animals peering at us between jumbles of leafy branches, and barbed vines.

Has Idaho worked at night? Blackjack mac v sog frequency 鈥 what frequency are we on? Listen to the experience. Pungent smells of fuel, oil, hydraulic fluids and exhaust saturate our nostrils.

Back outside he motions the interpreter and Point to my side. Three bodies. There are wounded. A silhouetted jungle reaching up into blackness jumps to life with each spontaneous blaze; shadows dance and weave, popping in and out of focus, giving a surreal life to the impenetrable black on black of the moonless night.

I relax my concentration attempting to take in as much of the void as possible and am further surprised by small, constantly glowing lights that are floating down from the blackness of the forest canopy, hovering and bobbing like helicopters looking for a place to land. Goddam it! He and the other two Scouts will remain with the ship along with the Medic.

There might be two more bodies or two survivors somewhere in this blackness. Millions of fireflies flash their signals from all strata of vegetation. Focus 鈥 stay focused on what we are out here for 鈥 concentrate Blackjack.

All five on read article have been shot in the head execution style.

We need help. Be careful. Sau again puts a finger to his lips, signaling me not to speak. What time is continue reading A rush of wind 鈥 a swishing sound of unknown blackjack mac v sog blows past my face.

Straining to listen, straining to see 鈥 Where the hell are they? The hair stands up on the back of my neck as I thumb the CAR to full-auto.

Ops said there are supposed to be half a dozen HF, maybe less. Struggling out of my rucksack, dropping it to the ground before jumping the eight feet with the other five following suite; the Idaho-6 form up in a defensive circle, each of us facing out, at the ready as the sound of the big Kingbee radial engine disappears into the inky night leaving us with the flitting, popping, dancing shadows. The three of us are unsuccessfully making every attempt to move quietly as we tear our way through the undergrowth; trying to dodge hovering bugs that are haphazardly flying into our eyes and mouths. Turn ninety degrees, facing west and proceed. Sau taps me on the shoulder, waving a forefinger in front of his lips. Wake up Point! Get your team and gear 鈥 load all of your heroes on one Kingbee. Take a couple extra batteries, just in case. None of us like the odds. The unseen undergrowth grasping, tearing at me, I make my way slowly to his location. The three of us now online, Point to my left, Interpreter on my right, conducting our search forward; moving away from the firelight into the inkiness of night. Be careful out there, to the east of them is an extensive NVA bunker complex. Point begins moving north, the three of us searching for survivors at the edges of glowing pools of light provided by the subsiding fuel and oil fires. Move it Blackjack! Also note the canteen pouches stuffed with 20rd mags Lynne Black has allowed us to include an excerpt from his new book, a review of his first book Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, can be found here. Wind wildly swirls through the open door and windows of the ship; our clothes and gear erratically flapping and snapping. Lights around the compound snap on revealing flying hordes of critters fluttering in the brightness of the lights blue-halo. We cover one with a poncho. Occasionally fires pop and crackle forcing us into an even higher state of alert as we get used to our surroundings. I grab one of the extras, stuffing it in my rucksack. An intense childhood fear floods through me with the memory of the boogey man in my bedroom 鈥 the unseen 鈥 the unknown in the night. I turn to see Interpreter moving in behind. Get your gear and load up. The gunner jacks a round into his thirty-caliber door gun, then leans into it and out looking for the LZ and any sign of muzzle flash. From my doorway perch, I can see our people in the downed chopper.