Daydreaming

The following passages are excerpted from the chapter.

". . .The scene repeats with minor variations.

Trotting in a crouch across the field to the waiting UH-34. (Leave some room between you and the man ahead; don't bunch up at the helicopter.) The cargo door is on the starboard side; it has been popped out and slid back along the fuselage. The gunner has one arm wrapped around the mount of his machine gun, and with the other he is reaching out, helping each man and his load to board the craft. (Move it! Move it!) The machine is barely touching the ground as it tenses against an invisible rein, anxious for the signal to clear the LZ. And the signal comes. And we are away. Pulling up and out and maneuvering into our position with the others of the deadly flight.

The door is left open, providing a picture-window view off the right forward quarter of the helicopter. The gunner is stationed at the forward end of the doorway. The M-60 machine gun is mounted there, and the gunner, with his crew helmet on, readies the weapon and scans the ground for targets. The man and his machine gun form a classic accent on the left edge of the image.

The originating LZ passes beneath us.

Villages in the distance. Rice paddies framed by dikes. Occasional Vietnamese in the fields. Bent over in the paddies. Shuffling along the roads. Lined with palm trees. Peaceful. Primitive. Lush and green. So pretty from up here. Helicopters ahead, strung out on a course to the target LZ. (Don't bunch up!)

Flashes of fire ahead. Smoke billowing, rising.

The target is coming up. F-4 Phantoms are making napalm runs along the edge of a village. There are trench lines there. The LZ is in sight. There are marines on the ground. Exchanging fire and taking cover. Their helicopter hurrying away and out of there. The concussion from grenades and mortar fire penetrates the background noise in the hold of our UH-34. You can almost hear and smell and taste your own fear.

The helicopter about 75 meters ahead of us begins its descent to the LZ. Suddenly it's hit by ground fire from the hamlet. (Jesus, what was that!) It looks like a bird just struck by the pellets from a shotgun. One moment it is flying smoothly, almost lovely, its movements coordinated and directed. The next moment it seems that it has lost its mind and its muscle control; it has been deformed and gone limp. Trailing smoke and clutching its marines, it rolls to the left and free falls out of sight beneath us.

Now we are the prey, and we continue on into the hot LZ.

". . .My favorite was a small girl who lived just outside the perimeter of one of the 2d Battalion, 4th Marines' base camps at Chu Lai. The main road from our camp on Hill 69 ran just in front of her home. The house was nestled in the trees and was surrounded by a fence. We had to pass her house whenever we went into Chu Lai or to any of the facilities at the base there. More often than not, we passed her house on our way to be loaded aboard helicopters to engage the Viet Cong.

It seemed that no matter when we would go by, she would be in the front yard. Always wearing neat and pretty clothes, just watching as we passed. I cannot remember her smiling. I recall her as always there, always expressionless. It was as if we were part of some inane and repetitive series of Saturday morning television programs, and sometimes we could look out to see the ennui of a child watching."