Authors: Donald E. Zlotnik
Spencer tried turning his head away from the stroking hand.
“So you’re awake.” James pressed the open end of the scotch bottle against Spencer’s lips. “Have a drink.” He poured and Spencer
gagged.
“I could use some water.”
“All right! I’ll get you some water if you’ll talk to me. I’m sick of talking to myself.”
“Get me some water.”
James left and returned a few minutes later carrying a tin of water and a piece of fried fish. “Here.” He poured the water
slowly into Spencer’s mouth.
The water tasted better than chocolate ice cream with cherry topping. “Thanks.”
“Here’s some fish….” James held it out in the dark for Spencer to eat. “Why have you been so hard on me? I just wanted to
be your friend.”
“Why have you turned against your country?”
“I haven’t! If those motherfuckers back in Detroit would have treated the black people
fair
, we wouldn’t have to do this!”
“Do what?” Spencer had no idea what response the question would bring.
James sat quietly drinking from the bottle for a couple of minutes before speaking. “Do you know I was the youngest Death
Angel in Detroit?”
“What’s a Death Angel?”
“It’s part of the militant Moslem movement… that’s what the whites call us…. A Death Angel is
special
. You have to kill five whites to be a Death Angel, and then you have
respect
!”
Spencer tried turning his head so that he could see James in the moonlight, but the dirt was packed too tightly.
“I am the best!” James held the bottle up and toasted the full moon. “I’s killed twenty-three whites… so far!” He looked at
Spencer. “You going to be twenty-
four
.”
“Is that why you came to Vietnam?”
“You got it!” James staggered to his feet. “You have fun out here tonight, ‘cause in the morning… I’m coming back to blow
out your fucking brains!”
“Thanks…” Spencer put all the sarcasm he could into the single word.
“Ha!” James pulled out his penis and tried urinating on Spencer’s head but was too drunk to see where he was aiming and missed
completely. “I’ll be back in the morning, Spencer!”
The flight of Hueys flew low-level across the border of Laos. There had been no air strikes or artillery prep fires to alert
the NVA that they were coming. A forward air controller was already on station ten miles to the west and had five sorties
of F-4s on call and two flights of A-1Es. General Seacourt and selected members of his staff were flying in a specially designed
airborne command center. The general had the capability of monitoring numerous radio channels and controlling the operation
from the large, converted passenger jet. He had direct communications to the commander of all American forces in Vietnam and
a line back to the chief of staff in Washington, D.C. The prisoner snatch operation had the highest interest, and its success
would be a major boost to morale in South Vietnam.
Master Sergeant McDonald squatted behind the lead ship’s pilot and directed him the last few thousand meters to the village
and the Montagnard pasture. It was ironic that an NVA general officer had used the same helipad only days earlier.
The team helicopters touched down in a diamond formation. The door gunners sat behind their machine guns, ready to open fire
at any NVA targets. They had been instructed that there would be no random firing until the POWs had been located and brought
under American control. Surprise was the key element to a successful POW recovery. Any hesitation on the part of the snatch
team would result in the deaths of the prisoners. McDonald had learned that lesson well.
Woods hopped off his chopper before it touched the ground and rolled over one shoulder, then back up on his feet, running
toward the buildings before the next man left the aircraft. Sergeant Lee San Ko was right behind him. The rest of the team,
in fire teams of two, spread out and assaulted their assigned targets.
Lieutenant Van Pao woke with a start when she heard the helicopters landing. She rolled off her cot, reached for the telephone,
and turned the hand crank. The instant she heard a voice answer, she screamed into the handset that her camp was under attack
by Americans. The duty sergeant at her division headquarters alerted the infantry company that had been assigned to react
in the event that A Rum was assaulted by a rescue party. The NVA company had been hidden in the jungle five hundred meters
away from the village, and its prime mission was to support the A Rum camp. Only Lieutenant Van Pao knew that the division
commander had taken that precaution.
Mohammed James was still very drunk and lay naked next to his Montagnard slave girl. She heard the helicopters and slipped
off the mat to look out of the shuttered window. Escape had always been on her mind, and she was hoping that the steel birds
were bringing Americans instead of the hated NVA.
James opened his red-rimmed eyes and tried lifting his head off the rolled mat he used for a pillow. “Ahhh… it’s fucking morning
already. Shit!” He closed his eyes. “Today I blow away Spencer Barnett!”
Colonel Garibaldi had heard the choppers coming for a couple of minutes. He was an Air Force officer and had an ear for the
sounds of aircraft. He could tell that they were coming from the east and that there were a lot of them. He lay flat on his
mat in case they bombed and prepped the village before landing.
Once on land, the Special Forces recon team found the South Vietnamese POW longhouse. The POWs had been chained to their cots.
Lieutenant Nappa and Sergeant Cooper started cutting through the chains with their bolt cutters. One of the South Vietnamese
officers spoke English. “Give me the cutters! You
kill
the guards!” Nappa handed the soldier the bolt cutters.
“Are there any Americans here?” Cooper asked over his shoulder as he watched the exit.
“Yes! They’re being kept in cages. Over there about fifty feet in the jungle.” He pointed.
“Thanks!” Cooper started for the exit.
“Go to the pasture helipad as soon as you can… Chinooks will be arriving soon to pick you up!” Nappa pointed back the way
they had come. The South Vietnamese officer nodded and barked orders to the prisoners. He left the three Bru tribesmen with
the South Vietnamese POWs to protect the group.
Woods was the first one to open fire. He killed five NVA soldiers exiting one of their sleeping hooches. All of the guards
had been confused and were waiting for orders. The surprise of the assault had been complete. The NVA guards on duty were
killed quickly by the fire teams, except for the two guards with Garibaldi; they had taken up positions next to the colonel’s
cage, waiting for instructions. They knew that if any Americans appeared, they were to cut the colonel’s throat before allowing
him to escape.
McDonald and Reed entered the longhouse and saw the Montagnard girl standing spread-legged over James. She was holding a bloody
Montagnard ceremonial knife in her hand. The look of extreme hatred on her face did not need to be interpreted.
“Dammit!” McDonald rushed forward and shoved the girl off to one side. He leaned over the soldier and checked for a heartbeat.
James was still alive, but bleeding badly from the wound in his chest. “We’ve got to save him, Lieutenant! This is one man
I want to see face a court-martial!”
“Go! I’ll give him first aid and carry him back to the choppers!” Lieutenant Reed waved with his CAR-15 toward the door. He
knew that McDonald was looking for Barnett.
“Thanks!” The sergeant ran out of the longhouse, holding his weapon at the ready.
Nappa and Cooper broke through the thick jungle into the POW clearing before they could stop. The guards opened fire. Cooper
rolled over on his side and instinctively fired a burst. The guards ducked down behind Garibaldi’s cage, giving Nappa enough
time to assault. There was no time for any kind of delay. Nappa knew that he would die or live, and the next five seconds
would decide which one would happen. The guards were not expecting a frontal assault and were caught by surprise. Nappa killed
both of them.
Garibaldi looked up from his mat and saw the camouflaged face of the Special Forces officer. “Thank God!”
Nappa saw that the gate to the cage was locked. He shook his head angrily because he had left the bolt cutters behind. He
saw that the bamboo bars were tied with bamboo and removed his Randall survival knife from its sheath and began hacking at
the bindings. The knife cut through the strands quickly, and he tore apart the bars so Garibaldi could squeeze out between
them.
“I thought there was another American.” Cooper had been acting as guard.
“There was, but they shot him last night….” Garibaldi felt sick. Spencer had missed being rescued by a single day.
“Where’s his body? We’ll take it out with us.” Nappa turned a full circle with his CAR-15 ready as he spoke.
“Back over there is where I heard the pistol shot. It can’t be more than fifty meters away.”
“Can you walk?” Nappa looked at the frail man.
“
Today
I can walk as far as you want me to!” Garibaldi felt his heart beating faster. He looked toward Spencer’s cage, hoping that
they had sneaked him back inside during the night, but it was empty. His eyes rested on Mother Kaa’s cage. The huge python
was coiled up in one corner. Her skin had dried out and was turning white in large spots. She was a prisoner too. “Let me
use your knife, Lieutenant.” Garibaldi held out his hand.
“Why?”
“There’s another POW that needs to be helped.” Garibaldi took the knife and walked over to Mother Kaa’s cage.
“Holy shit!” Cooper saw the huge python for the first time. “What the fuck is that!” He couldn’t believe his eyes.
Colonel Garibaldi hacked at the knots that held the bamboo poles in place where she lay coiled up. Her weight popped the bindings
against the poles she was coiled against when Garibaldi had cut only partially through them. Part of her coils fell out onto
the ground, and the colonel stepped back away from her. “You’re free, Mother Kaa… you’re free to go home.”
“Come on!” Nappa was getting nervous. “Let’s get the other POW’s body.”
Woods and Lee broke through the edge of the jungle ten meters away from Nappa and Cooper.
“Shit!”
Cooper blinked. He had nearly fired, thinking they had been NVA, but all of their training had paid off. Every target during
a POW snatch had to be
positively
identified before firing. POWs could be running around all over a camp during a snatch.
“Where’s Spencer!” Woods screamed the words when he saw only one old man standing with Nappa.
Colonel Garibaldi pointed in the direction he had heard the shot come from the previous night.
Woods took off running in the direction the colonel was pointing. He held his CAR-15 in one hand with his finger on the trigger
and the safety off. Woods followed the narrow path through the thick undergrowth and ran fifteen feet out into the clearing
before he could bring himself to a stop. He nearly kicked Spencer in the face.
“Oh
God
!” Woods dropped his CAR-15 in the dirt and fell to his knees. “Oh God, what have they done to you, Spence?” He placed a hand
on each of Barnett’s cheeks and tried lifting the soldier’s head out of the dirt.
Sergeant Lee San Ko stepped out in the clearing seconds after Woods. He saw Woods on his knees in the dirt holding Barnett’s
head in his hands. It looked to him as if Barnett had been decapitated. He felt like puking and gagged instead. Sergeant Lee
saw the NVA soldier step out of the jungle, but she had the advantage and fired first. The AK-47 rounds drove his body back
into the jungle.
Barnett opened his eyes at the sound of the automatic weapon and saw Woods’s face. “David?” His voice was a whisper.
“He’s alive!” Woods screamed the words, ignoring the NVA lieutenant who was swinging her weapon over to where he sat in the
dirt.
Barnett’s eyes focused, and he saw the CAR-15 rounds from Nappa’s weapon tear into the woman’s chest. Her back arched and
she fell to the ground, dead. Barnett smiled and the blood flowed from his cracked lips, but he didn’t care. Sweet Bitch was
dead.
“Help me!” Woods screamed and started digging with his hands in the lose soil around Spencer’s head. Nappa acted as guard
while Woods and Cooper dug with their hands. Colonel Garibaldi tried helping, but his efforts were extremely weak. He had
thought he was in pretty good shape, until he saw how fast the healthy Americans were digging. He gave up after a couple of
minutes and sat down to rest.
“Take it easy.” Lieutenant Nappa handed the colonel Woods’s CAR-15, just in case they got some company before they were through
digging him out.
Garibaldi took the weapon. “Thanks…” He felt useful.
Woods and Cooper dug Barnett out down to his elbows, and then Woods straddled the hole and pulled Spencer out. The odor that
followed Spencer out of the hole was extremely foul. “What is that smell?” Woods set Spencer down on the ground next to the
open hole and looked back down inside. He could see a small hand sticking out of the dirt and realized that Spencer had been
sitting on top of a small child’s body. “Those motherfuckers!” A clump of dirt broke loose from the side of the hole and fell
down to cover the exposed hand. Only Woods had seen it.
Spencer groaned and drew Woods’s attention away from the hole. He was lying on his side but his legs were still curled up
under him. Woods tried straightening out his legs and Spencer screamed.
“Just carry him. Once the blood works its way back into his legs, they’ll straighten out.” Colonel Garibaldi reassured Woods
that he hadn’t hurt his friend.
“Are there any more POWs?” Nappa asked the colonel.
“There are some South Vietnamese being held back in the longhouses.”
“We’ve already found them.”
“And there’s James….” Garibaldi’s voice lowered.
Barnett heard the names and raised his head off the dirt.
“Kill him
… David…
kill him!”