“I’m ready Richie. Are you?” Dan asked settling himself in the crane operator’s seat and checking that all the brake locks were set on the cable drums.
Dan watched the changing traffic. On the road from the cantonment to the intersection with Highway One north towards Phu Bai was mostly a scattering of farmers on small motorcycles and bicycles mixed with an occasional truck load of rock or gravel. Highway One became much like he had seen in other places in Vietnam. Fast moving motorcycles and small, usually older, Japanese made cars, whose drivers didn’t or couldn’t read a speedometer.
These guys are definitely a problem. If they wanted to do you any harm they’d be on you before you could even react much less get a weapon out of the rack. Can’t see as a motorcycle or bike themselves can to do much harm to this crane unless they’re loaded with explosives.
They were just getting into the outskirts of Phu Bai and the traffic density was picking up when Richie flipped on the left turn directionals, slowed down and was getting ready to make a turn. As far as Dan could see, or not see, into a none existent road.
Dan marked the supposed turn with a small Vietnamese store on the east side of the road and a bicycle repair shop on the west side of Highway One.
The way seemed clear when Richie started his turn almost as if he was going to pull into the bicycle repair shop. That was when Dan saw the narrow but recently Seabee repaired gravel road going west off of Highway One. The crane boom had passed over the intersection when a small three wheel truck loaded with gravel in its small bed coming south on the highway turned in front of the crane. It went under the extended boom and in front of the truck’s huge steel front bumper. Richie slammed on the brakes and the crane dipped forward as the wheels locked up and the tires slide in the loose gravel. Dan could barely see the top of the little truck’s cab as the crane dipped forward and knew from experience that Richie would be unable to see any part of the three wheel truck.
A dirty gray streak coming around the front of the crane’s front end skidding and slidding on the edge of the road embankment caught Dan’s attention. Partially obscured by the cloud of red dust it was creating and the gray dust from its load of gravel that was spilling out onto the embankment gave the truck the bizarre look of a scene from a “B” movie with cheap thrill crash scenes.
Without looking back the driver of the three wheel truck stepped on the gas, as he fishtailed back onto the traveled part of the road with the reddish dust still rolling from the truck’s rear tires as he sped away south on Highway One.
Richie started the crane moving again to finish the turn onto the side road before pulling as far to the right as possible and coming to a complete stop. Dan heard the air brakes hiss when Richie locked the parking brakes up before jumping down from the driver’s cab.
Dan swung down from the crane’s cab then walked around the front of the crane to join Richie were he was leaning with his back against the front bumper.
“That has got to be the stupidest move I have ever seen. I thought that he was as good as dead, Dan.”
“Yeah I know. I could see him most of the time except for maybe one or two seconds when he went down in the ditch. I knew that he was gone from your view then.
Now the result and point is that you were quick enough to stop before you ran over him and his stupid truck.”
“I’m still shaking. If I ever hit him he would never have stood a chance.”
“Probably more than us right now standing here on the side of the road without a weapon between us after almost running over one of their upstanding citizens.
Let’s head down the road. You okay or do you want me to drive?”
“I’m fine. The shakes are leaving and we have company coming around the corner.”
“All right. Take your time and kind of stroll back and climb up in the cab. I’ll be in the crane and armed in just a second and will be able to see them if they are going to be hostile.”
Dan jogged back and with a quick step up swung up into the crane . Just as Richie opened the cab door, Dan slide open the side window of the crane’s cab and made sure that the approaching Vietnamese saw not only him, but the M16 that he held and was pulling back the slide to put a round in the chamber.
The Vietnamese leading four others was unusually heavy set and muscular. Still only about 5’3” tall in his bare feet and Ho Chi Minh sandals. He kept talking all the time as he grew closer and his body language raised a red flag in Dan’s mind. He is definitely a trouble maker. Most likely VC. Where did he come from?
Richie closed the cab door then was moving around.
“Can you get your weapon?”
“I have it on my lap.”
“Okay. Raise it up and set it pointing out the window opening. They’re coming closer to your side of the crane. See them in your mirrors?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“All right stay cool and watch them. They might just be concerned citizens, I’m going to swing across the boom and sit on the truck’s cab. As soon as I get there get ready to drive up the road.”
He slipped two more of the rifle’s magazines in a hip pocket just before climbing out of the crane.
“I’m here.” Dan was now in view of all the Vietnamese and he could meet all of their eyes from his seat high up on the cab’s roof. The apparent leader met his eyes and spoke in passible English with the usual Vietnamese smile.
“Is everything all right? We saw the truck try to run you off the road and wanted to be sure you are OK.”
Whether he was being concerned as he intimated or was weighing the odds of them taking on the well armed Seabees Dan could not tell. They all looked concerned, even the burly leader whose work hardened hands Dan could see clearly and he could see no weapons or anything large enough to be an explosive device of any kind,
“The driver is not good. Always causing trouble. He killed his own buffalo and got many dollars when he told the American Army that they blew it up. But he did it with a mine he found or bought out in the country.”
Dan felt the slight movement of the crane and heard the change in the engine as Richie engaged the clutch and put the transmission in gear.
“Thank you Papa-san. We are all right and will go on.” Dan told the self appointed leader of the Vietnamese.
“Let’s go Richie. Onward to the Valley of Darkness.” Dan waved his arm in a old John Wayne calvary movie motion laughing as he swung up onto and over the boom to reenter the crane’s cab.
“What in hell is with the ‘Valley of Darkness’ malarkey?” Richie hollered over the noise of the engine’s RPM winding up as he shifted through the gears.
“I just made it up. Cool don’t you think?”
Richie stole a look upwards through the boom struts with a look of ‘are you nuts’ before answering. “If you say so. Okay if I don’t know what in hell you’re talking about?’
“Join the club. I don’t know either.” Dan hollered back with a grin.
Richie was concentrating on his driving but a smile crept across his face and he shook his head in the negative.
Dan was watching both sides of the road and letting Richie watch the road looking for any hazards or disturbances in the road’s surface when he felt and heard a drop in the engine’s RPMs. They slowed down which made Dan look forward and saw not only a curve in the narrow road, but a low hanging tree which was draped with several comm wires. The wires could be military comm wire or civilian appropriated wire hung in the trees by the local villagers for their primitive telephone service.
“This is one of those situations I told you about. Scares the shit out of me just sure it is Charlie’s doing and could be an ambush. They are aware that we travel this road.
Gets really scary driving it alone. I’ve always trailed the boom for the next quarter mile or so which means stopping, getting up into the crane. Hell, you know. Then repeat the process after I got clear of this mess.”
“Looks to me like that’s the best way to do it, Richie.” Dan said as he started the crane’s engine and without hesitation swung the boom down and under the low hanging tree branches and wires. With the boom safely down and in the trail position Richie started slowly forward. In about a hundred yards they dropped down a small hill and broke out into the start of a long valley. There were rice paddies of each side of the road giving ample room to swing the boom back to the front and into its cradle next to the truck’s cab.
“Keep going slow, I’ll swing it back.” Dan hollered and in a few seconds was dropping the boom back into its cradle.
The primitive road showed signs of having been graded and widened recently. as they came to a fork in the road at the end of the paddies. Richie allowed the crane to slow down as he hollered, “The crusher is up on the hill about a half mile on the left fork. See the dust cloud?”
“Yeah, I can hear it.”
“They must be trying it out. I know it isn’t quite ready for full time operation. Still some adjustments to make and belts to setup.” Richie could talk at almost a normal conversational level as he drove slowly up the road with the engine at a shade above idle.
“Last time I was up here I almost hit an elephant crossing the road right here. Kind of spooked me Now everybody knows they cross about here so we go real slow.”
“You’re shitting me?”
“No. look at the embankment where they come up on the road. Doesn’t look exactly like piles of cow shit and a buffalo path does it?”
Richie had stopped the crane near where a weapons carrier and front end loader were parked. Several Seabees were working on parts of the crusher itself a hundred yards or so away on a piece of ground that had been leveled with a bulldozer. All were stripped down to just green fatigue pants and steel toed boon dockers. A couple wore Marine Corp fatigue hats with Navy rank insignias on them. The rest were bare headed . All had deep tans that were barely discernible under a coating of sweat streaked dust from the rock crusher.
A slim built Seabee that Dan immediately realized was a chief walked around from the far side of the crusher. He wore not only a friendly smile but instead of a Marine Corp fatigue hat wore his chief’s tan hat with it’s shiny brass chief’s insignia. The forty mission crush and slight tilt to the left of the hat revealed the start of some gray in his short side burns and lack of a white sidewall cut made the gray more obvious.
“You must be our new crane operator. Chief Wishingham. Make it Chief. Chief Wiz. Chief Wish. You can forget the Wishingham.” The chief said as he approached Dan and held out a work callused hand. “Let’s get a cup of coffee then we’ll talk about what we need you guys to do for us.
This hooch on the right is our chow hall and general hangout. After 1600 the beer is cold and available.”
It was a regular sized Seabee hooch like any one of the hundreds the Bees threw up all over Vietnam. It sat about 3 feet off the ground so there was a set of four steps going up to a fully screened entry door. Both ends and both side walls were plywood from the eaves down to about 4 feet above the floor. From the bottom edge of the plywood to the floor was screened in with regular mosquito proof screen . Over the screening were plywood louvers installed at an downward angle to shed the rain but would allow a free flow of air throughout the hooch.
The three sat at the table much like a stateside picnic table close to the coffee urn.
“The first thing we need you to do is to set up the water tank. It will have to be picked up sideways and swung over the primary crusher itself. Then set on its legs. The output conveyor belt is almost ready to go up and once we start putting it up it will take quite a while. You’ll have to hold it in place while we install the legs and get it aimed where we want it.
So we’ll need you for at least today and tomorrow. And since you can’t travel these roads after dark it will at least Saturday before you’ll get back to Gia Le.
You aren’t in any rush to get back are you? Compared to Gia Le this is an R & R site.”
“I think you are forgetting a little detail, Chief.” Richie spoke up.
“And what is that?” Chief Wiz asked with his characteristic full toothed smile.
“”A little policy about any visitors from Gia Le stand watch every night they’re here.”
“Oh, yeah. We do that because we don’t have an over abundance of watch standers to stand guard duty seven nights a week. That is 2 four hour watches, we have to have two men in each of two bunkers from 1900 to 2300 and the second watch 2300 to 0300. A total of 8 men from 1900 to 0300. And then two more men, one in each bunker on the 0300 to 0600 three hour watch. That’s ten men per night. We usually have less than twenty troops here so we’re on every other night unless we are missing somebody on R & R or in Gia Le for some reason then we have to fake it. Many times we have only one man in each bunker. Since a guest might not know the routine and what to expect we double him up with one of our men who can sleep in the bunker while the guest keeps watch. If something happens he can wake up his partner. We start our guests on the 2300 to 0300 watch. If they’re here for more nights we work them into the schedule with the regular troops. And that depends on why they’re here and for how long. It helps if the extra men are on their second or third tour in-country and have spent a night or two out here with us. Then we can leave him on his own.”
“I can handle a couple of nights of 2300 to 0300 if it will help you out.” Dan volunteered.
“How about I relieve Dan at 0300?” Richie asked.
“Done. Thanks guys. Anybody need spare magazines? I want you to have at least four hundred rounds for your M16s. There’s an M60 in the mess hall for each bunker with 2,000 rounds. You pick them up before starting the 1900 watch. Also a case of illumination grenades and a few aerial flares, but be conservative with the flares they’re really hard to get so be sure that you really need to use them before launching one. The grenades and flares are left in the bunkers all the time.”
“We ‘re fine with M16 magazines. We each have over four hundred rounds.” Dan said.
The three chatted a few more minutes while finishing their coffee then the chief led them over to the crusher and showed them where everything went and had a one of the crusher crew help rig the lift cables on the water tank.
Shortly after finishing with the water tank Chef Wiz came over to tell them that it wouldn’t be until late in the afternoon before the conveyor belt would be ready to put in place. In the meantime it was lunchtime and shortly after lunch they moved a trailer mounted water pump closer to the creek that was their water source for the camp and crusher. It was muddy around its present position so they picked it up with the crane and moved it several feet onto a gravel pad which had several thick planks on it to get the pump up out of the mud.
“We’ll get the conveyer ready this afternoon and have you place it first thing in the morning rather than struggling to get it done before dark. We are really well within our time range to get operational so we can take some slack when we think it will work better to take the extra time to do it. We’ll still get you guys out of here by Saturday.”
Dan had taken a nap from about 2000 until 2230 when one of the crusher’s regular crew woke him with a fresh cup of coffee. “Thought you’d appreciate this. We always make it about 2200 so the watch standers would have it.
We do appreciate having extra bodies to help us out.
I’m Tom Herman. I’m the lone mechanic out here, first class and I run the security scheduling. I’m basically in charge of security.
The rest of the crew are EOs. Third class and below, except for Doc our corpsman who is second class. They are all a real good bunch of guys . You’ll be sharing the watch with Doc. He’s a city boy and hears all kinds of strange things at night so don’t let it worry you, but he also falls to sleep really easily.
I know. He’s a contradiction.” Herman added.
Doc came into the chow hall, as you could call it, and went directly to the coffee urn. “I can smell this fresh coffee all the way over in sickbay.
I’m Jim Barnes. As you can see by my bag and the caduceus on my collar I’m a corpsman.” He offered Dan his hand. “Don’t believe everything Tom says. I did hear a tiger prowling through the compound last week. Two nights in fact. And no, I wasn’t going to leave the bunker to see it.”
With a smile he met Dan’s eyes. “You ready to see your home for the next four hours? We drew the back bunker. It faces on the jungle and is where the tiger comes over the concertina wire. If Charlie hits us it will be from that side also so we have beefed up the wire and such to make it harder for him to get through.”
You want to give Dan the grand tour before it gets any darker Doc?”
“Yeah. Who’s out there?”
“Sherman and Clark. Be sure to give them a heads up when you walk out there.”
“We will, but I’ll bet Sherman is sitting on the roof of the bunker enjoying the scenery and sounds of the jungle.”
“Yeah, he is a bit strange.”
“Not really, Tom. He’s a country boy who feels comfortable here and in the dark.
Let’s go Dan. Onward out into the dark of the night and hopefully we won’t see what is lurking in the dark shadows.
We do have good flashlights in case, but we don’t think it’s a good idea to use them when we’re out in the open. No sense in giving Charlie a lit target.” Barnes said as he picked up two flashlights from a shelf next to the door and handed one to Dan after testing them to be sure each worked.
“You are very weird, Doc” Petty Officer Herman hollered as the door closed behind them.
While Sherman and Clark, two third class EOs were gathering their gear Doc led Dan along the concertina wire in the gathering gloom. It was obvious to Dan that the wire was hung with care. There didn’t seem to be any holes that even a small VC could pass through without rattling one or more of the several C-rat and beer cans that were hung on the wires and each held a few small stones that rattled easily when Dan snapped the wire a bit. The cans were scattered liberally along the wire. Also there were bunches of trip flares dispersed through out the wire connected to each other and the concertina by very fine olive drab booby trap wire.