Authors: Ken Gallender
As directed by Charlie, Porter dug the pit out a little better and made a 3 foot deep hole under the cot so that in the event the enemy was able to lob a hand grenade in, all they had to do was kick it into the hole. Porter didn’t enjoy the prospect of having Sandy out there with him and possibly in harm’s way. But he caught himself dozing a time or two and woke to see that Sandy was still awake.
Before dark, Sandy took the Rokon and headed back to the ranch while she could see the trail back. He could still feel the goodbye kiss down to his toes. About 45 minutes later she called on the radio and said she was safe in the house. He built a small fire down in the pit. It quickly warmed the area. He gathered some large flat rocks and used them to reflect the heat towards the bunk. He took one last look into the distance and saw nothing but darkness. It was a very cold night and the sleeping bag felt good. The fire was out and there was nothing but stars as far into infinity as he could gaze. He awoke several times during the night and peered into the distance. The only sound was from the
wind, there were no sounds of men or machinery in the distance and no light from vehicles or fires.
The next morning he woke to snow and wind, winter was taking hold. The radio crackled as Charlie radioed, “How you making it out there?” Porter answered, “So far so good, I was surprised by all the snow.”
Charlie came back, “You are going to have to be on your own today. Until this snow stops I don’t want Sandy trying to ride out there. It’s easy enough to get lost out here when it is not snowing.” Porter agreed with him. “It’s easy to get disoriented in the snow, especially if you get snow blind. If you find yourself getting a headache, quit looking out for a while and focus your attention on the inside of the blind. Keep a small hot fire going in those big rocks we piled in there. That will keep you good and warm all day and night.”
“Yes sir.”
“I don’t expect that you will see anything Porter, it will be hard for man or beast to travel in this weather. You should have plenty of food and water for several days.” Just as Charlie predicted, there was no activity from man or beast.
It was on the third morning that Porter was awakened by the sounds of a helicopter coming in low from the west. He radioed Charlie who answered, “We see him, as far as he is concerned we are just one of many ranches scattered across the country. Everything is buried in snow and the stock is in the barn hidden from view. Just hang tight unless I tell you otherwise. That is just a scout looking around. We won’t start shooting unless he tries to land.” Porter pulled out his binoculars and peered off into the distance. From the direction of the river he caught some movement. A small herd of deer were moving up out of the river bottom and up towards some timber on the bank of a large hill. Something had spooked them from the way they
were running. Porter was expecting to see coyotes or wolves. He was surprised to see a foot patrol of Chinese troops. He put down the binoculars and put his grandfather’s deer rifle across the rock ledge of his blind. Through the high powered scope he verified that they were indeed Chinese troops. Their travel was slow in the heavy snow. He radioed Charlie and told him what he saw. “The boys have confirmed that there is a patrol that has crossed the river. It appears as though they are alone. They will probably head towards the ranch house. I don’t want you to do anything until you hear us shoot. I want to catch them in a four way cross fire. They are coming up through a shallow valley; we are all on high ground so we will be shooting down on them. They won’t be expecting 5 snipers hitting them all at once.”
“Yes sir, I’ll wait for your signal.”
“I don’t want them within rifle range of the house, so I will be going out to meet them. Keep your scope on them and have your cross hairs on the first one you want to hit. Have your second and third target in mind before you pull the trigger. Once you squeeze off your shot, go immediately to your next target. Don’t wait to see if your first shot connected. They should be about 300 yards from you when the shooting starts.”
Porter decided to take the one that was the nearest first and then the next two in line. He counted 20 men. The men were scattered out about 20 feet apart. The one in front stopped and raised his hand. Porter held the scope on the nearest man’s chest and had the safety off and his finger tight on the trigger. He was not scared or nervous because he knew that the ranch and girls depended on what he did next. A shot echoed across the land and was followed by a volley of four more. Porter didn’t wait to see if his shot was true; but, did as Charlie said and continued looking for targets and squeezing off rounds. He shot and reloaded three times for a total of 12 shots before he could no longer find a target. He reloaded a fourth time and waited. He pulled out the
binoculars and saw no movement. Charlie got back on the radio and called, “Is everybody all right?” Everyone called back an affirmative. “Keep your eyes peeled, any survivors will pop up and make a break for it. There is no way of knowing which way they will go. They will probably make a run back in the direction they came from, but you never know.”
Porter leaned the AK 47 up next to himself so he could grab it in an instant. He heard a long gun from one of the boys fire but could not see what he was shooting at. A moment later three Chinese were up and running in his direction at less than 75 yards. One fell in his direction from the force of a bullet hitting him from behind and a loud boom echoed a couple of heart beats later from one of the long guns. Parker pulled out the AK 47 and opened up on the running Chinese. One collapsed and the other returned fire. A spray of automatic gun fire tore through Porter’s blind. Porter continued to fire his rifle in semi-automatic mode and soon had the soldier down. It wasn’t until it wall all over that he realized that he had been hit. A ricochet bullet had caught him in the side. Another bullet had passed through his shoulder. He was hurting like the devil and was bleeding profusely. He dropped back in his seat and was about to get back up when he heard several more reports from the long guns. He was getting light headed but recognized the sound of Charlie’s rifle. He tried to get up to peer out but that was all she wrote.
Porter woke up lying in the bitter cold blind. He had no idea how long he had been out. He was stiff from the cold and he hurt so bad he could barely move, but move he did. When he got to his knees he could see out of the blind. The Chinese soldier was laying about eight feet from the entrance.
Porter was bitter cold and he could barely feel his hands and face. He couldn’t move his left arm because of the pain in the
shoulder. He could barely wiggle the fingers on his left hand. He found some coals still alive under the ashes of his fire. He put on some tender and soon had a fire going. Once he had the fire burning he warmed up enough to move a little. He eased off his coat and felt the wound in his side. He didn’t know if the bullet had nicked anything important inside, the only pain was from the entry wound. He couldn’t take a breath without pain. Being high on his side, it may have busted a rib. It didn’t penetrate his chest cavity or he would be short of breath. He drank from his canteen and slaked his thirst.
The radio was in a thousand pieces, having been hit by a bullet. He thought about the family back at the ranch house. They must be in trouble or they would have come for him.
The bullet went clean through his shoulder. There was a lot of blood in his coat and on the floor. The full metal jacket had passed clean through and fortunately the blood clotted and stopped flowing before he died. He could feel the entrance hole but could not reach around to check the exit wound. He had to do something; the family was in trouble or dead. He gritted his teeth and with tears streaming down his face he forced his arm into the bloody coat. The broken ribs were nothing compared to the wounded shoulder. The pain had a surprising effect on him. At that moment a strength he didn’t know existed in him boiled up from within. Whether it was from the pain or the adrenaline coursing through his system, Porter was fortified with renewed strength. A meanness welled up from his very soul. The thoughts of what could be happening to Sandy, Ally and the others flooded his every thought. He took a deep breath and buried the pain deep in the recesses of his mind. The hate was boiling up within, just as it did when he killed the murderers back at his home. This time it was controlled, he was not guided by blind fear and rage; but by stoic reasoning. He suddenly knew what he was going to do and what it would take to do it.
He loaded up the backpack and put in 8 magazines for the AK47. He had the magazine pouch around his neck. All total he had 14 loaded magazines and one in the gun. It was a heavy load. He also had his pistol in his shoulder holster and a Kbar knife on his belt. All he could think of was Sandy and Ally and the rest of the family. It was still daylight so he headed back towards the ranch. The snow made travel slow but Porter’s strength did not fail. After two hours he reached the top of a ridge where he could see the ranch house off in the distance. It was dusk and he could see the house lights and smoke coming from the chimney. His heart jumped into his throat as the realization set in to what he was seeing, the lights would not be on if the family were home and ok. There had to have been more than the 20 troops that made the initial attack. He couldn’t believe that he had failed everyone when they needed him most. It was just like the attack on his family, he let them down and they died. The sun was going down so he continued to within about 300 yards of the house. He pulled out his binoculars and saw what he feared. Chinese troops were on the porch and in the buildings. They had guards posted out about 100 yards from the house. There were four that he could see, there were probably more. They had a number of bodies laid out on one side of the house; in the fading light he couldn’t tell if the bodies were family or soldiers.
The nearest guard was sitting next to a 5 gallon bucket with a fire in it. He poured in diesel that probably came from the family’s only tank of fuel. The diesel made the flames jump and the sparks from the wood dance high into the sky. The soldier jumped back in surprise, Porter heard the guards on either side laugh at the antics of their comrade. The guards were sitting looking at the fire and warming their hands. Porter was lying prone on the ground and decided to let the cold and boredom work on the guards. Although it was cold his jacket and wool stocking cap were keeping him warm. He shoved up a small wall of snow on one side that blocked the wind. He waited until he saw the guards starting to settle in for the night.
He kept stretching his left arm and shoulder so that they wouldn’t stiffen up. The pain had long since just become a thing, it was no longer part of him; it was almost like the shoulder and side were supposed to normally feel like that. The wind would soon become his friend. The scrub bushes rustled and masked the sound he made crawling towards the nearest guard. His rifle was on his back and the Kbar knife was in his right hand. When he was within 20 feet of the guard, he paused and raised up to where he could see the guards on either side of the one directly in front of him. Both were sitting blindly looking into the fire, huddled onto themselves to stay warm. The guard in front of him was sitting with his back to him, none of them wore helmets. They were wearing what looked like stocking caps with bibs. Porter had spent weeks working with Charlie on hand to hand combat, throwing knives and shooting. Porter was very good with the knife, with one motion the big Kbar left his hand and a moment later it landed with a thunk in the back of the guard’s head. The guard slumped to one side. Porter quickly closed the distance and took the guard’s seat. One of the other guards looked up and Porter just gave him a quick wave and nod. In the darkness the guard mistook Porter for his comrade who lay face down in the snow. The guard turned back to staring at his fire. Porter got up pretending to go to the bathroom. It took a little effort but he pulled the knife from the dead man’s skull. He wiped off the knife and put it back in the scabbard. The snow was deep enough that the other guards didn’t see their comrade laying dead.
He sat for a while to let everyone get back into their stupor watching their fires. He added a piece of wood to the fire. He affixed the bayonet on the dead man’s rifle. He pushed the body into a seating position and using the bayonet, propped the body up. He retreated on his belly back into the night and snow and repeated the process 3 more times. This took the better part of four hours; his methods became quicker with practice. He knew it would just be a matter of time before they changed the guard. At each spot he was able to warm up by their fire buckets.
He finally crawled up to the bodies in the yard. He crawled down the top of the line and discovered that they were all dead soldiers except the one on the end. The one on the end was Charlie’s son, John. Although sad, he was relieved that there were no other family members. That did not mean that they were not captive. With the guards dead and propped up by their bayonets he was free to move about the yard. He took his time and moved around the grounds. He first went to the barn. If the family got away it would probably be on horseback or using some as pack animals. One of the horses had been slaughtered. Its carcass was hanging from a rafter. The skin and meat had been stripped away, a pile of guts were in an old washtub underneath. Half the horses were missing along with saddles and gear, there was still hope that they escaped. Two soldiers were asleep in a bed of hay. He remembered the suppressor Sam had made for the guns. He retrieved the one for the Baretta pistol from his pack and screwed it on the barrel. He walked to within 10 feet of the sleeping soldiers and popped each one through the head. He hoped that no one heard the shots. Although not silent, the suppressor muffled the blast so that it was improbable anyone heard it outside of the barn. Porter found that all the buildings had been ransacked but the contents were largely intact. He dispatched three more sleeping soldiers in the other building and replaced the magazine in the Baretta with a full one.