Skipper and Zeek in the Hole

Skipper and Zeak have something to smile about because this shot was taken out in the jungle in September 1970.  The Cambodian Incursion had been over for two to three months and the dry season was in full swing.  There was nothing at all to smile about while fighting in Cambodia during the rainy season.

They are standing in the hole.  Our squad had to dig one every night.  The hole was a remnant of trench warfare in World War I.  If we were attacked during the night, the hole is where the squad fought from.

We set up the M60 machine gun at the hole aiming toward the jungle.  All of  the claymore mine clackers were centralized there.  A clacker was the firing device that when squeezed would cause a claymore to explode toward the enemy.  Wire connected the clacker to a blasting cap that was set into the top of the claymore.

The hole was supposed to be large enough to hold a squad of eight to ten men.  By the looks of it, Skipper and Zeek would barely fit.  The hole was never big enough.  The reason was we all had to dig a layer and every layer that followed the first one somehow got smaller and smaller and smaller.  We were lucky that we never were attacked in the jungle where we had to defend ourselves from the hole.
Skipper and Zeak were Vietnam nicknames.  We all had them.  Skipper's real name is Henry Vanbrink and Zeek's real name is Ismeal Figeroa.  At our 2015 reunion, I learned that Henry was no longer with us.  He died in 2006.  It saddens me that Skipper lived in the next state over from me for 36 years and I never knew.  I would have dropped by to say hello.

21 MONTHS, 24 DAYS IS AN AUDIO BOOK!

I am excited to say that after a lot of hard work over the last three months, 21 MONTHS, 24 DAYS is now available as an audio book on Audible.com, Amazon, and ITunes.  Audible.com gave me a limited amount of free books.  If you would like one, please EMAIL me at reudden@gmail.com and I will mail you back a download code.  Thanks…

Delivering Water to the Jungle

When patrolling the jungle for typically two weeks at a time, every three days, we had food and water delivered.  The morning of the drop, we would look for a clearing in the jungle large enough for a Huey helicopter to settle down in.  This snapshot was taken during one of those deliveries.

In the background you can see standing bamboo.  In the lower right corner of the picture you can see bamboo lying on its side.  So on this particular day, we cut an opening in the bamboo forest large enough to drop in the helicopter.  There were no natural clearings close to our location.

Machetes were used for cutting bamboo and we made quick work of it.  We likely had the clearing opened up within an hour.  When a bamboo stalk is alive, it is soft and easy to cut with a swipe or two of a machete.  If it is dried out, it gets so hard, that the only practical way to cut it is with a power saw.

Leaning out of the helicopter with his foot on the strut is a door gunner.  There was another door gunner on the other side.  The door gunner is helping guide the pilot down by telling him how close he was to the ground.  The pilot is concentrating on staying away from the edge of the bamboo forest with his main rotor and tail rotor.  Those five gallon jerry cans you see on the floor of the helicopter are filled with water.

We had the entire drop zone surrounded with M16 rifles ready.  You can see how vulnerable that helicopter was if a Vietcong soldier could get close enough to shoot at the pilot or door gunner.  They may have lived in better quarters than we did but they paid for it when exposing themselves like this.      

Keeping My Wallet Dry

This snapshot of me was taken soon after I had walked through a stream.  I am wet from the waist down but still willing to smile for a picture.

When we had to move from point A to B in the jungle, if a stream or a swamp was in the way we simply walked through it.  There was no thought about what could be done to make the crossing a dry one.  The safer choice in fact was always taking the worst path.

Once on the other side I simply drip dried.  I would check for leaches to make sure one or more of them was not attached to my bare skin somewhere.  Our boots had breathing holes close to the sole so they self-drained the water captured there.

That is M60 machine gun ammunition wrapped around my waist.  Sometimes I carried it that way, sometimes I carried it across my shoulders and other times I simply carried the box the ammunition came in.  You can see a one-quart canteen of water fastened on my waist.  There was no thought about getting those things wet.

Wrapped in plastic in my right hand is my wallet.  The only concerns I had when trudging through water was keeping my wallet and M16 rifle dry.  If the water was over my waist, I would hold the wallet in my teeth while holding the rifle up and out of the water with both hands.

My wallet and rifle were the most important possessions I had out there so getting them wet was simply unacceptable.



  

Tony, Pete and Randy

This shot of Tony (on the left), Pete (in the middle) and Randy from my squad was taken in March 1970.  They are standing in one of those rare open areas in a jungle that was generally choked by bamboo.  It was a sunny day in the dry season.  The company had not had contact with Vietcong soldiers for months.  There was not a lot to be concerned about at the time and you can see that in their faces.

Tony has his M16 rifle in his hands.  You can see the side of a smoke grenade just behind his right shoulder and the neck of a 2-quart canteen just below it.  Pete is wearing a vest-full of grenades for the M72 grenade launcher that he is holding unlatched and open in his right hand.  Randy, with his rifle by his side and his left thumb hooked around a bandoleer of M16 ammunition clips, has a Saint Christopher medal dangling around his neck.

All three are hunched over due to the weight of the pack they carry.  Green towels are wedged under the straps to cushion the weight.  Their beards are the result of our spending more than two weeks in the jungle.  What was camouflage green colored cloth helmet covers on their steel pots are now tinged a reddish-brown.  That reddish-brown color is from Vietnam's signature red dirt.  If you look closely, you can see writing on their helmets.  We all had something scribbled on our helmets.  It might be a Vietnam nickname, a saying of some kind, or maybe the home town and state we hailed from.

I was a new-guy at the time so my helmet cover was new and unmarked.  They were grizzled Veterans who were teaching me the ropes.