The soldier fumbled to grab Pham Minh’s hand and helped him up. He blew a short whistle, and the commando squad appeared from out of the darkness. There were ten in all. A man appearing to be the leader came forward and shook hands with Pham Minh. They were fully equipped with AK47 rifles, rocket launchers, and light machine guns. Some were bareheaded; others wore peasant hats with round brims. All were clad in black Vietnamese clothing and, instead of raincoats, they wore vinyl capes of various colors over their shoulders, as Pham Minh had in Atwat.
The advance guard and Pham Minh led the way and the others followed noiselessly in dispersion. Like water, they seeped silently into Trinh’s house. Two of the soldiers remained posted as guards at the front and back doors of the house. The moment they went inside, they heard a match strike and there appeared the white hair and beard of old Trinh. Very calmly, he lit a candle.
Pham Minh bowed to him politely, and said, “Forgive me, Uncle. I should have told you in advance.”
“You did mention that some friends of yours might come by. These are them? Come in, please. It’s been a long time since I’ve had young people in the house.”
Under the light, the commando leader looked to be a middle-aged man. His short hair made him look even more strong-willed and full of confidence.
“Pardon us, sir, for causing you inconvenience. Members of the army of the Democratic Republic of Vietnam, we fight today as a liberation force under the command of the People’s Revolutionary Party in the south. Would it be all right if we stay in your place until we can safely leave to accomplish our mission?”
“Have you eaten yet?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then please sit down and rest yourselves.”
“Thank you, sir.”
The soldiers, following the leader’s gesture, quietly sat down with their backs against the wall. Nobody opened their mouth. The leader sat beside Pham Minh.
“Based on our reconnaissance from the mountaintop, we have made our own rough estimate of the situation. Tell us about the infiltration route.”
“Heading up north from Son Dinh along the rice paddies, you’ll run into a stream. It runs south to the Thu Bon River, but if you go north upstream for about two kilometers you’ll reach Ap Dai La. From there to the perimeter fence around the air base is less than a mile. Of course, there’s some danger of ambush. We’ll have to identify any guards along the path in advance and take them out. Once that’s done, it’ll be no problem.”
When they heard the sound of heavy gunfire and cannons, the soldiers picked up their weapons and headed outside before any order was given. The diversion operations had begun at various points around Da Nang.
They stooped low and fanned out as they made their way across the rice paddies. Thinking to himself that the farmers would forgive them for trampling the rice shoots, Pham Minh hurried to keep up with the point man. At last they reached the stream. Normally, the water level was down around ankle-high, but with the recent heavy rains it had risen to chest level. In case anything went wrong with the operation, they all agreed to jump in the water and float back to this point. Then they crossed and raced up north along the levee on the far side of the stream. The rain was still pouring down. After about an hour, they all reached the hill overlooking the air base from which they would mount the attack.
The advance soldier mounted first to check on any ambush. When he returned and reported the way was clear, they all headed up onto the hill. The air base was brightly lit with searchlights and landing lights. Each of the soldiers took two rocket shells out of his patched vinyl knapsack and these were gathered together. With small field shovels, they hurriedly began to dig a trench in the wet earth. An hour passed as they completed the digging, the trench was shallow and a man of ordinary height standing in the bottom would find the ground level at his stomach, but it was large enough that everyone’s entire body could fit down inside. There were twenty rockets to be launched, but it was very unlikely that enemy artillery would remain quiet that whole time. Their plan was to retreat in the lull after the initial round of the counterattack.
Two rocket launchers were set up at either end of the trench. These launchers were simple, nothing more than a gadget resembling a tube as long as your arm. They could even be fired while the shooter and loader were on the move. The preparations had been completed. The leader gave the order “Fire!” in a quiet voice. With a sound of Ka-wump the first rocket was away, whistling as it went with flames shooting behind. The first was immediately followed by a second. A pillar of flames could be seen rising from the middle of the air base. Then, an emergency siren went off. They continued firing. Within two minutes, enemy artillery was beginning to target them.
“All have been fired, sir!”
“Stay down!”
Shells were hitting all over the hill. It was Pham Minh’s first experience under heavy explosive fire. The shock from the blasts made his face swell up and he thought his skin might burst. He buried his face in the dirt, his mouth gaping open and his hands cupped over his ears to shield them.
As soon as the barrage stopped, the leader shouted, “Retreat, now!”
They leapt and practically rolled down the hill, then jumped into the stream and drifted down on the rapid current. By the time they made it back to the path through the rice fields, helicopters could be heard overhead, but they were not afraid. On such a night, there was no way for the helicopters to locate them as they lay down among the rice plants. If they attempted to fly in low they would respond with light machine guns. Whenever a helicopter fired a flare, they hit the ground, waited it out, and then got up and ran on. Finally they reached the forest near Son Dinh and paused for a rest. Four men were missing. They must have been lost during the bombardment up on the hill. One man, apparently wounded in the leg, was being carried by two comrades. The leader came up to Pham Minh and grabbed him by the shoulders.
“We made it. From here, we’ll head straight to our base. Good-bye. Long live Vietnamese Liberation!”
With the break of the new day, a state of emergency was declared for the entire city of Da Nang and its environs. The questioning at checkpoints became more intense and barricades were set up at every corner in the city. American soldiers were not allowed to leave their bases unless they were armed. The American headquarters belatedly realized that the enemy had commenced its usual rainy season offensive. The attack on the air base had destroyed two Phantom jets and burned up the conex box. The operation had been a major success. Pham Minh purposely went in to his air force unit the next morning and took part in the repair work on the runway. Later, when he returned to the office, Nguyen Thach told him to take a few days off and get some rest at home. Thach was clearing off his desk before heading out to make a detailed report to the district committee.
“How are you?” said a familiar voice.
Thach saw a pair of silver mirrored sunglasses as Toi stepped in through the door. Outside it was still raining. Toi removed his glasses, put them in the case hanging on his belt, and plopped down on the couch across from Thach’s desk. Wearing a look of displeasure, Thach gazed at him.
“What business brought you here?”
“Ah, I was just passing by and stopped in to see how your business is going.”
Thach frowned. “As you can see, my brother is getting so prosperous that I’m washing my hands of my old business,” said Thach, looking around his own office as if it were a strange place. “What can I do for you? I was about to leave.”
Toi glared back at him, squinting his one good eye.
“I’ve come to talk something over with you. Because I can’t make up my mind.”