DISCLAIMER: This story is based on the television series Tour of Duty which aired from 1987 through 1990, distributed by New World Entertainment. All characters belong to the creators and/or producers of the show and were brought to life by Stephen Caffrey (Lt. Goldman), Terence Knox (Sgt. Anderson) and Tony Becker (Cpl. Percell). No money is being made with this story and it may not be posted, published or archived without permission. Although care has been taken in the attention to military protocol, certain artistic licenses have been made for the sake of readability.
This story is rated: PG Story idea
suggested by: Doc, Erin, Kit Kat & Percy
Written by: Erin & Percy
“Damn this rain, it just won’t
let up!” Sergeant Marcus Taylor pulled his poncho hood further over his
forehead in an attempt to keep the rain from his face. Eight straight hours of driving rain was
beginning to agitate the soldier. Once
his face was clear of the insistent water the new Sergeant checked over his
squad.
Private William Griner, Private
First Class Thomas 'Pop' Scarlett and Jim Greer were in
charge of perimeter duty for the third squad.
Griner and Scarlet continually scanned the dense vegetation for any sign
of the enemy.
Private Greer was standing alone
away from the group. Greer was a
draftee and not in favor of the war in Vietnam. He was known to do anything he
could to get out of combat and hopefully out of the war alive. This mission was no exception.
Two days ago Jim Greer
attempted to fake heat stroke. Lying on
the ground he held the platoon up for more than an hour. Marcus was infuriated by the charade and
decided to transfer him out of the unit when the platoon returned to Camp
Barnett.
Specialists Alberto Ruiz and
Danny Percell were leaning against the jungle trees watching Ryan Abbey. The newbie medic was tending to the wounded
F.N.G. Luke Crumley.
Private Crumley had been
shot in the leg during a VC ambush of the weary platoon at sunrise. Following the ambush there were no choppers
available for a dust off and the exhausted platoon was ordered to proceed to
the landing zone as scheduled just as the rain began to fall.
“Just hold still and let me
clean the wound out or you’re going to get an infection!” The medic had been
brought into the platoon a few weeks ago as a replacement for Specialist 4
Francis Hockenbury. The predecessor had
been transferred out of the unit for his unwillingness to engage the enemy in
hostile fire. His objections to the war
led to the unnecessary death of a young American soldier. Ryan's dark brown hair was soaked from the
rain as he sat on his helmet struggling with the patient who preferred the hand
of God take care of his health.
“Private Abbey, just let it
go…” Crumley lay on the ground exhausted from the hike and in severe pain from
the stinging bullet wound. “I’ve been
shot in Vietnam, Doc! Just let me
die. It is God’s will.”
“Shut up, Crumley and let the
Doc clean the wound out! If God wanted
you dead he would have shot you in the head!” Taylor was getting annoyed with
the young man’s strong faith in God, constant praying and asking for
forgiveness.
“Sergeant Taylor, sir.” Crumley
was a strict Mormon from Salt Lake City, Utah.
He was formal with his speech and in his everyday routine. The FNG’s behavior had irritated the newer
Sergeant since the day he moved into the barracks. Every night before bed in the barracks Luke would put on his
button up civilian pajamas and kneel by his bedside praying out loud to God so
all of the men could share in his faith. “I mean no disrespect, but if it is my
time to return to my maker, than maybe we should let it be?”
Marcus rolled his eyes and
turned away just as he caught a glimpse of Ruiz laughing at the dilemma Taylor
had gotten himself into. Not able to
stand Crumley’s resignation anymore, Marcus found a solitary area to sit and
wait for orders.
***************************************************
“Roger that six, over.” First Lieutenant Myron Goldman returned
the radio receiver to his RTO. He paused, wiping the raindrops from his
face then noticed the questioning gaze from Platoon Sergeant Zeke Anderson.
Lt. Goldman leaned towards the
Sergeant’s ear to speak over the deafening sound of the pounding rain. “There
will be no pick up until the rain lets up or stops.”
Sergeant Anderson shook his
head in agreement. The Sergeant was serving in his fourth tour and
he knew Army protocol quite well.
“There’s more…” Lt. Goldman had
a troubled look on his face. “Recent radio contact with Charlie Company indicates
there is an NVA regiment moving this way. We need to get clear of all
enemy engagement. Command wants us to
move to the top of a ridge about ten clicks from here. This will get us out of the path of the NVA
and we can get picked up as soon as the rain stops.”
Goldman pulled his map pouch out from inside his
shirt. Reading was proving to be a
challenge as the driving rain poured over the plastic covered paper. The officer marked the platoon's location on
the map with his finger then scanned the area to acclimate himself to the
terrain. "We'll move the men
through this area, cross the river and head up the ridge right through
here." Goldman traced the path
with his finger as Sergeant Anderson struggled to see.
"Looks good LT." Sergeant Anderson agreed with command,
knowing the men had to get somewhere safer and drier, if there was such a place
in Vietnam.
“Get the men ready,
we are leaving in five.” Myron grumbled
as he wiped the rain from his face with his already wet towel. He knew the men were tired and they would be
sure to share their disgust with having to hump to a new landing zone ten miles
away, all up hill.
Myron thought about
the men and grabbed Zeke's arm for his attention. “Have Greer and Taylor’s new guy, Armstrong, help Crumley with
the hike”
Zeke made his rounds
to check on the men and ready them to move out. The Platoon Sergeant was pleased to see a well-set perimeter by
the first squad. Many of those men had
only been in country for a few weeks, but they were proving to be fast
learners. He had not been happy with
Command's decision two months ago to put his special operations Studies and
Observation Group on part time platoon duty, but the Platoon Sergeant was a
role he knew well. Second squad was
sharing stories and finishing their chow and underneath a heavy cluster of
bananas trees was his beloved third squad and S.O.G. team.
“Taylor? What are
you just sitting around for?” Sgt.
Anderson always welcomed the opportunity to banter with his young friend from
Detroit.
“Waiting for you and the Lieutenant to find
my fairy godmother and magic pumpkin to get me back to my hootch and my warm
dry bunk!” Taylor’s comment was meant
in humor, but his face showed disgust with the weather, the Army and the war.
"Well now Taylor,
we may just do that for you."
Sarge grinned at Marcus and looked over his shoulder to find Ruiz
complaining like an unhappy housewife to anyone who would listen.
“Man this weather is
terrible. Every time it rains I sneeze
and my bones ache. I feel like I am fifty years old.” Alberto rubbed his aching legs and noticed the oldest member of
the platoon a few feet away. Pop gave
Ruiz a wink as if to say - you have
no how bad you are going to feel when you are fifty.
Zeke continued. “Be ready to move out in five minutes.”
“Where we going
Sarge?” Private Daniel Percell questioned from behind Ruiz.
“Somewhere over the
rainbow Percell, somewhere over the rainbow.” Zeke grinned as he looked down at
his men. He knew how they felt. He also knew it was good to get a laugh or
two when you needed it the most.
Private William
Griner became even more confused than he already was. “What is that suppose to
mean?”
Taylor informed his
friend. “Huey’s can’t come and get us in this rain.” Then he looked to
Anderson, “but why we gotta move?”
“Well,” Sarge began.
“Battalion reports show there is an NVA regiment moving this way and if we
don’t get outta here, they’re gonna find us.
Griner you’ll take point and Percell I want you to take slack.”
Griner’s look of
puzzlement turned to concern and he hustled with the rest of the squad to
police up their area and prepare to move out.
Taylor remained
perched on his helmet in the mud and questioned under his breath. "Since when has Battalion been
right?"
Sergeant Anderson
went about informing the rest of the squad leaders to prepare their men to move
out. Griner and Percell marched their
way up to the front of the column of men.
Ruiz positioned himself at the rear and the other men fell into
line.
***************************************************
Moving through the
jungle and the rain proved to be a slow and tedious task. William Griner felt the pain of nervousness
as he tried in vain to scan the saturated ground for booby traps. Danny Percell followed behind a few yards
searching the ground for anything the young Private may have been lucky enough
to step over or around.
After an hour of sluggish pace humping
towards the hill through the downpour, Danny caught a glimpse of a booby trap
that William had not seen. Percell’s
left arm and fist raced up towards the hideous dark sky to halt the platoon
while a hiss came out of his lips. “Griner..stop”
Trusting Danny’s
instincts, Griner stopped dead in his tracks. Looking straight down, he saw the
explosive that could have killed him and Percell.
“Stay still, Griner.” Danny walked slowly
toward the younger soldier while he checked for surrounding trip wires and
mines.
Sergeant Anderson
moved forward to the spot where the endangered private was frozen still. The LT and the rest of the platoon watched
from a distance.
Carefully, Danny
began to disarm the trip wire device as William looked down praying that his
comrade would get him out of this sticky mess.
Despite the heavy warm rain, sweat started to trickle down both William
and Danny’s neck.
“Shit!” sighed Danny
as he noticed there were two grenades at each end of the wire.
“Don’t say that.
What is it?” Nervously William Griner muttered as he tried to stay perfectly
still.
”Nothen` man, just stay still.” Danny
continued working on the problem that lay in front of him in the slippery mud.
Zeke assessed the
situation from over Percell’s shoulder.
“Alright Percell we are going to have to work carefully in all this
rain.” Sarge hoped to calm the seasoned
soldier and let him know that he was there to help if Danny felt he needed it.
Danny pulled two
grenade wires from his shirt pocket and placed them into the hole in one
grenade and then the other. Sergeant
Anderson presented two more wires for the remaining grenades. The third and the fourth grenades were a
challenge as they were so close together. Slowly, the young man worked and
removed the tension from the trip wire near Griner’s foot.
“Griner, back up
slow” Danny ordered and moved back as well.
William Griner let
out a sigh of relief. “Thanks!”
“No problem William,
just don’t do it again.” Danny smiled at his friend, patted him on the shoulder
and motioned for Griner to move back a little more.
Sergeant Anderson
checked the area. “Good job,
Percell. Griner take a break from
point. Taylor has volunteered for your position.”
Percell gave a laugh
as Marcus moved into the point position.
“I thought you weren’t walking point anymore, SERGEANT Taylor!”
“At this point I’ll
do anything to get away from Crumley, he is driving me crazy! Besides we need a skilled point man to get
us through this rain.” Taylor adjusted
his weapon in front of him and prepared to move out.
“Whatever Taylor.”
Danny pushed his friend forward and resumed his position as the slack man.
Taylor looked back
to his superiors, Goldman give a wave to move out.
***************************************************
Taylor stared in
amazement as he approached the river.
The usually small shallow river had more than doubled in size.
Danny came up behind
the stunned soldier. “Geez, how the
hell are we supposed to get across that?”
Slowly the rest of
the platoon filed in behind the men, each soldier staring at the raging water
that blocked their path to the secondary landing zone. Sgt. Anderson came to the edge of the water
and squinted up and down the shore looking for an answer to Percell’s question.
Lt. Goldman quickly
ordered the Platoon Sergeant to get the men to set a defense perimeter while
Myron consulted the wet map.
The Sergeant set to
his work then returned to the Lieutenant to find him thrashing the receiver
against the radio.
“Sir?” Zeke knew there was no good news in store.
“Radio is
dead.” Myron sighed and took a minute
to work out a plan before proceeding with orders.
“I guess this means
we are on our own.” Sergeant Anderson
knew the platoon was now stranded and had to get to the ridge if they had any
chance of being located when the rain let up.
Myron tilted his
head slightly forward to keep the rain from running directly into his
eyes. “Let’s send out two patrols to
check the river for a decent crossing.”
Seeing the well-trained Sergeant was in agreement the younger Lieutenant
continued. “ I want you and Percell to
go north and Taylor and Griner will scout to the south. Each patrol will be out for 30 minutes and
then return. The rest of the platoon
will set up here and wait.”
“Will do.” Zeke winked at his friend and called for
Taylor, Percell and Griner to join him away from the rest of the platoon.
LT needed to
establish new squad leaders in the absence of his two Sergeants. “Conner, get Ruiz up here.”
The noise from the driving rain was so loud
that the men had to call for Ruiz as if it were a bucket brigade. Alberto trudged through the thick mud to
reach the Lieutenant’s side. Once he
was there the LT informed Ruiz that he and Pop Scarlet would serve as squad
leaders until the two patrols returned and for now the men should grab some
chow and keep alert.
Ruiz and Scarlet set
out through the soaked vegetation to inform the men under their command
***************************************************
Sergeant Taylor and
Private Griner slowly worked their way south along the river’s edge. Taylor was surveying the river while Griner
watched for snipers and booby traps, not wanting the afternoon’s unpleasant
experience to happen again.
“We are not going to
find a way across this river.” Taylor shared with the young Private. “Usually we could walk right across cause
it’s only about three or four feet deep.
This is crazy!”
“Well maybe we’ll
find a bend where the river is narrower, or where we can rig up some ropes to
get across?” Griner attempted to add
some optimism to the conversation.
“Griner, this river
is usually about fifteen feet wide, look at it! It’s got to be about forty feet to the other side!” Taylor pointed across the river with his
M-16. “We ain’t getting across till
this fucking rain stops! How long have
we been out here anyway?”
Griner pulled his
wrist out from underneath his government issued poncho and wiped the water
drops from the face of his watch. “It’s
18:40, we have been out for about 25 minutes wanna head back?”
“Nah, we’ll keep
going for another ten minutes then head back, we will get back a lot faster
cause we won’t have to search for booby traps.” The two men continued further along the river knowing that dusk
was setting in and darkness was fast approaching.
***************************************************
“Sarge, hey its
18:45 we oughta head back.” Danny was
crouched low next to a large tree, which Sergeant Anderson was leaning
against.
The Sergeant did not
acknowledge his friend, instead he just stared through the wet air at the
rushing water, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Not one single
place Percell,” Anderson continued to shake his head. “If the NVA is really in the area, the platoon is in a lot of
trouble cause there is no way we are getting across this river with an injured
man unless Taylor and Griner found a way. Come on now, let’s head back.”
***************************************************
Goldman and the
platoon sat motionless undercover as more than 50 North Vietnamese Army
regulars passed by the platoon about ten meters away. The NVA soldiers were casually walking and conversing through the
rain.
“Stay Alert and
watch your noise level.” The NVA Lieutenant was frustrated at the casualness of
his men as they moved across the well-known territory.
“Radio, Sir.” The
Radio Officer handed the handset to his leader as they moved through the
rain.
“Copy that, yes
sir.” The Lieutenant smiled as he
received the order and handed the receiver back to the operator. “We shall be
stopping by the river bend near the old village of Fau Choy. We shall move quickly and have time to fish
and then rest till the morning.”
The North Vietnamese
soldiers cheered out loud at the news and were anxious to get to the river bend
to eat and relax. Catching dinner would
be difficult with the high waters, but many of the young men were ready for the
challenge. The enemy’s pace quickly
took them away from the platoon and closer to Zeke and Danny.
Myron Goldman boiled
with anger and rage as he watched the enemy move north, unaffected by the rain
believing they were out of danger because they assumed the American soldiers
would not be waiting for them in this weather.
They were right, the GI’s would have rather been back at base camp, but
they weren’t. They were stuck out in
the mud and the rain unable to mount an attack against the enemy due to being
out numbered and two patrols were expected back at anytime.
A few minutes after
the last of the NVA soldiers had passed north of the platoon Private Greer
began bitching and complaining to anyone who would listen. “This war is fucking ridiculous!”
“Greer!” Lieutenant Goldman had enough on his mind
without listening to the belly aching of a newbie grunt. “One more word out of you and I’ll find a
nice unit for you at the D.M.Z.!”
The young private
shut up and flopped down next to Abbey and the wounded Crumley. “No choppers available for a dust off….some
service they did you, huh? American
government bureaucrats……..”
“Jimmy, shut
up!” The usually soft-spoken medic had
no interest in listening to the ramblings of an ungrateful American
citizen.
“Greer, you need to
find a better faith in God to get you through your tour.” Crumley had muscled up some strength to
share the word of the Lord with this lost sheep.
Unable to find
sympathies for his cause, Greer left for a more secluded spot to stew in his
disgust for the Vietnam War.
Private Joe Connors
sat with Specialist 4 Ruiz with his M-16 ready. “Ruiz did you catch that
movement?
“Yeah, but hold your fire, it’s probably the
first patrol.” Ruiz finished his direction just as Taylor and Griner appeared
through the wet thickness of the jungle.
The two men patted Ruiz on the back as they headed for the
Lieutenant.
Goldman saw the men
and met them halfway. “Well?”
Taylor shook his
head. “Ain’t no way we are getting
across that way LT, the river is raging from bank to bank. There is no good
place to cross down south, how about Sarge and Percell, they back yet?”
“No. They got trouble headed their way, about 50
NVA moving along the river in their direction.” Goldman pointed out the path of
the enemy for the Sergeant.
“50! We didn’t even
see’em LT.” Taylor looked at Griner as
the two thought about how close they may have been to the enemy at any time
during their patrol.
“Well Sergeant, who
the hell can see anything in this fucking rain?” Myron had attempted to light a cigarette to calm his nerves and
was becoming more frustrated at his inability to get the soaked tobacco
lit. After a few failed attempts the
agitated leader threw down the cigarette and stared to the north hoping to see
Zeke Anderson and Daniel Percell appear through the rain at any minute.
*****************************
To Be Continued **************************