Someone had removed the pin from the frag and slipped it under the edge of Hale’s ruck. If Hale had picked up the ruck, the handle would have popped off, and Hale would have died.
Carefully Raymond started to take the frag from Short-timer.
Reynolds was playing his M-16 behind his back, far gone on speed.
Then Raymond had it, his fingers around the handle. Men came out from behind trees.
“Green tape. Who’s got some goddamn green tape?” Hale said.
Hale was so scared he was trembling, and his voice was shrill.
A lieutenant produced a roll from his ruck. While Raymond held the frag, Hale wrapped the tape around the handle.
“What squad slept next to me?” Hale asked a sergeant.
“First squad, Second platoon,” a sergeant said.
“Bring that squad leader to me,” Hale said.
The officers passed the frag around while Hale waited for the squad leader.
“We were fucking lucky,” Jackson said to Labouf.
“Those that don’t have to stay close to dickhead Hale are lucky,” Labouf said.
The squad leader arrived, looking worried. Hale had one of the lieutenants take the man’s rifle from him.
“Who put it there?” Hale asked.
“What?” the squad leader said.
Hale held the frag under the man’s nose.
“You knew it was there,” Hale said. “That’s why you pulled out. Not a goddamn enlisted man within fifty yards of my ruck.”
The squad leader glanced up at the trees.
Hale said, “Look at me, goddammit. You are responsible for your men. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Hale tossed the frag to the squad leader.
“Tie this to your ruck,” Hale said. “You’ll need it when we hit the Holiday Inn. I see you, I want to see that goddamn frag. Sure hope that tape doesn’t wash off in this rain.” Then Hale had the lieutenant gave the man back his rifle, and Hale continued. “Get the fuck out of my sight.”
The squad leader walked off into the trees holding the frag with both hands.
Hale picked up his ruck and gave the order to move out.
“Better forget about doing any more sleeping,” Labouf said. “They’ll try again.”
I’m sick of it, Jackson thought. The dinks trying to kill me. Now I’m going to get blown away when they frag Hale.
Labouf continued, “Hale don’t look like he’s worried. Probably enjoys having his ruck booby-trapped.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Jackson said, swinging his ruck up on his shoulders. “Just shut the fuck up.”
Jackson turned his back on Labouf and walked away.
“You better loosen up,” Jackson heard Labouf say. “The bad shit hasn’t happened yet.”
All morning Reynolds & Raymond shadowed Labouf. They gave up pretending they were pulling flank security and walked beside him, one in front and one behind, ignoring Labouf’s threats. Finally Hale sent them out as scouts again.
The battalion reached a gap, a perfect spot for an ambush. They halted while Hale sent a platoon to scout it. Jackson sat down next to Labouf.
“You got a heavy ruck,” Jackson said, putting his hand on Labouf’s ruck. “I’ll carry a couple of batteries.”
“It’s not heavy,” Labouf said quickly.
“You got no batteries. Got it filled with money,” Jackson said.
“You’re crazy as R&R.”
“Let me see?”
Labouf reached for his rifle.
“Gonna shoot me like I was R&R?” Jackson asked.
Labouf grinned and said, “Fuck it. Help yourself.”
Jackson opened the ruck. Inside were bundles of money wrapped in plastic. Labouf kept glancing from side to side to see if anyone was watching them.
“Close it up,” Labouf said. “Goddamn R&R are probably hiding in the trees.”
“They don’t need to see,” Jackson said. “They know what’s in here. They’ll kill you for it first chance they get.”
Labouf said, “Not those crazies. They’re gonna get blown away scouting for Hale.”
“So far the dinks haven’t been able to kill them,” Jackson said. Then Jackson paused before he continued, “Goddamn, Labouf, why did you bring it? Shit paper is all it’s good for out here.”
“I’m going home with this money,” Labouf said.
“You see any place to buy a plane ticket?” Jackson asked.
Labouf said nothing.
“Sit there and count your fucking money,” Jackson continued as he picked up his ruck. “I hope I’m not around when R&R decide to take it from you. Give it to them. Let them worry about it.”
“I worked hard for this money,” Labouf said. “Took plenty of fucking risks.”
Jackson stood up, “Don’t talk to me about your goddamn money. You don’t care about anything but that money. I’m worried about getting fucking wasted.”
“Tom Light’s not going to let anything happen to you.”
“He’s gone fucking crazy! I don’t even know if he’s out there.”
Jackson stopped, gasping for breath.
“Take it easy,” Labouf said.
Then Jackson walked off up the slope. When he looked back through the trees, he could see Labouf sitting beside his ruck, rifle in hand, staring off into the jungle.
Why didn’t I stay with Light? Jackson thought.
Jackson concentrated on walking, making sure he planted each foot firmly in the rotting leaves before he straightened out a leg beneath the weight of the heavy ruck, one foot in front of the other, over and over. And his mind, numbed by the repetition, slipped into a daydream of walking the night jungle with the starlight, powerful and unafraid.
CHAPTER
22
Everyone had run out of rations, and there was no chance of resupply by air because the heavy rain continued, mountains and valleys both covered with thick clouds. Hale promised they were only a day away from the base camp. Jackson was hungry and thought more about food than he did about dying.
“The food is at the Holiday Inn. On the other side of this mountain,” Hale said at a meeting of his commanders. “Dinks have got rice, fish, pigs. Good stuff. Kill them and take it.”
“Sure, easy,” Labouf said. “We been ambushed so many times I’ve stopped counting. How we gonna kill any?”
What was left of the battalion was strung out along the side of a mountain. The enemy kept up pressure against their rear and flanks.
Herding us like a bunch of goddamn cows, Jackson thought.
Hale had a count made and Jackson and Labouf added up the numbers that came in from the platoons. They only had three hundred men left. The rest were dead or wounded so badly they had to be left behind.
“The weather’ll get better. We’ll have air support when we hit the valley. Phantoms, gunships, and choppers for the wounded,” Hale said.
“Won’t see any Phantoms. This fucking rain will never stop,” Labouf said.
Jackson wondered why the men did not mutiny. But if the men refused to go on, the NVA would have a chance to mount an attack against a fixed target. And there was no chance at all of anyone making it back across the mountains with no rations and the NVA waiting at every likely ambush spot. Their only chance was the Holiday Inn and the air support which would come with a break in the weather. Jackson dreamed of choppers dropping down to lift them out of the jungle.
Then the NVA hit the center of the battalion with mortars and an ambush, the fire coming from the slope above them. Jackson and Labouf were near the front of the column with Hale. They ran to escape the mortars, moving forward and downhill to try to place a bulge in the mountain between themselves and the mortars so it would be much more difficult to bring fire on them.
Jackson stumbled through the trees, wishing he could drop the heavy radio so he could run faster. Rifle fire clipped the twigs and leaves around them, the bullets making little splats as they passed through the thick leaves. Then he lay with Hale and Labouf behind a big rock. Reynolds & Raymond, who were never far from Labouf, were there. Hale started to talk to his company commanders but dropped the handset and sat down with his back against a tree. For a moment Jackson thought Hale had been hit.