Jungle Warriors, Crime Fighters Page 3

  “Pleased to meet you, Sir.”

  “Likewise, Gunny. Have you been able to keep this jokester in line?”

  “No, Sir, I gave up trying about six months ago.”

  “Good move. That’s probably saved you a lot of headaches.” KC smiled.

  “No comment, Sir.”

  “By the way, is Bonner still here?” KC asked.

  “No, he was transferred to Dong Ha about three weeks ago.”

  “Well, have either of you heard anything about civilian flights being restored?”

  “No, nothing like that. The only thing we’ve heard is that this is being called “The Tet Offensive” and that it’s being executed country-wide.”

  KC exhaled with a frown. “Well, I’m starving, may I join you two for breakfast?”

  “Sure, go to the back and get what you want.”

  When KC returned with a tray full of food, he took a few bites of his scrambled eggs and said, “There’s a 1st Sergeant from our headquarters that came here with me who’s also got orders home. Sergeant Jackson and I have split up, temporarily, hoping to increase our chances of finding a way out of here. He’s staying down at the supply depot with some buddies of his. After we eat, could you get me a ride down there so I can see what he’s found out?”

  “Sure, no problem. Did you say Jackson?”

  “Yeah.” KC nodded.

  “Black guy, first name Henry?”

  “Yup, that’s him.”

  “I’ll be dammed. Gunnery Sergeant Jackson was our company gunny in OCS. Meanest son of a bitch I’ve ever met.”

  “Amazing, isn’t it? My company gunny here, for a while, was our company gunny in OCS, too. He was definitely the meanest SOB that I had ever met. We became good friends here. He told me that he’d been a D.I. at MCRD, San Diego, had fourteen platoons go through there. He said all of them were the honor platoon except the first and the last. He said with his first platoon, he didn’t know what to do. And with his last, he was afraid to do it because he knew he was being transferred to Quantico and didn’t want to mess that up. Nicest guy you’d ever want to meet, most outstanding Marine I’ve ever known, but put him in a D.I. uniform and he’d scare you to death. Gunny Maxwell was promoted to first Sergeant a couple of months ago. If he stays in beyond his 20 years, I think he could be the first black Sergeant Major of the Marine Corps.”

  “Yeah, those guys do a fantastic job. I’d like to meet up with Top Jackson, see if he’s really a normal person, like you say.”

  “You could if you give me a ride down there,” KC replied.

  “Oh, I’d like to but they would never let me leave here. Anything could happen at any moment. Unfortunately, I’m stuck here.”

  They finished eating and Lt. Witt sent Gunny to get a Jeep and driver for KC. Witt told the driver to take KC wherever he needed to go.

  “If I’m here, maybe I’ll see you if you come back. Otherwise, good luck getting a flight out. I hope to see you stateside someday.” Witt shook KC’s hand.

  “I just hope that they don’t cancel all orders home because of this Tet thing. Good luck the rest of your tour. Thanks for the ride.” KC jumped in the Jeep and they were off. When they arrived at the supply depot, KC asked the driver to wait for him and he went inside. KC saw Top Jackson and exclaimed, “What happened to your eyebrows?”

  “Did you see that big explosion last night?”

  “No, but I heard it.”

  “It was a jet fuel storage tank and I was standing right across the street from it when it blew. Everything turned bright orange, the heat was horrendous and I thought for sure that I was dead. It wasn’t until this morning, when I was shaving, that I saw my eyebrows had been singed off.”

  “Wow, scary stuff. You sure you want to stay this close to the air base?”

  Chuckling, Top said, “Maybe not anymore. That really shook me. But there are lots of old salts staying here and close by that are waiting to go to Okinawa on R & R. I figure I’d better stick close to them in case something happens.”

  “R & R in Okinawa?”

  “Yeah, these guys have been stationed in the Pacific theatre for years and have girlfriends there. They keep going back to them every chance they get.”

  KC raised his fully intact eyebrows and shook his head. “Ok, but nothing yet?”

  “Nah, one of the guys overheard a radio transmit and the bottom line was that the flight crews for World Airways have no schedules whatsoever,” Top replied.

  “Not surprising, considering what a mess this place is. A buddy of mine ran a resupply convoy over to One-One yesterday and no one was there. He had no idea where they’d gone and nobody told him that they had gone. With all this confusion, I’m afraid that someone is going to get the bright idea of postponing all orders home. If that happens, who knows what they’d do with us.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that possibility. Let’s hope nobody else does, either.”

  “Right. So, what do you think we should do?” KC asked.

  “I guess what we’re doing is about all we can do. How are things out at the transit center?”

  “Not good. No perimeter, no mess hall, and everyone I’ve talked to there is waiting to go to various R & R venues, but none to Okinawa. That still gets me. Okinawa? With Tokyo, Bangkok, Honolulu and Australia available, girlfriends or no, why would anyone go to Okinawa?”

  “I hear ya. So, you gonna go back out there?”

  “I don’t want to, but I guess I should just because that way you and I are covering multiple locations. What about we try to get over to the airbase headquarters, see if they can provide any info?”

  “Good idea. Maybe we can get a ride in the old van.”

  “We won’t need to. I’ve got a Jeep and driver waiting outside,” KC said.

  “How’d you rate that?”

  “Buddy in motor transport, remember?”

  “Right. Ok, let’s try it.”

  KC and Top found the headquarters office for the Marine Air Base, Danang but the word they got was there would be no civilian flights in the foreseeable future. Since it was closing in on 1200 hours, they asked for directions to the mess hall. They took the driver so that he could also have lunch. When they had gotten their food and sat down, KC asked the driver, “Have you heard anything about civilian flights being rescheduled?”

  “No, sir. Everybody is always talking about going home but right now, I think a civilian plane, like one from World Airways, would draw lots of rocket and mortar fire.”

  “Yeah, I guess so. That’s what happened with all the activity when we traded places with 4th Marines at Camp Carroll. The NVA saw an opportunity to catch a lot of people out in the open and opened fire, big time. Last night, they saw Top here wandering around outside and blew his eyebrows off.”

  “Damn, why did you have to mention that. I’d almost forgotten that they were gone.”

  The driver said, “You were near that fuel tank?”

  “Yeah, too near.”

  “Wow. Well, fortunately, you weren’t closer than you were.”

  “If I had been, Lt. Huntington would be trying to find a way home on his own,” Top said matter-of-factly.

  “It’s the Marine Corps’ job to get me home. So far, they’ve fallen flat.”

  “Give ‘em time. It’ll work out for us.”

  Chapter 5

  After lunch, they dropped Top Jackson off at the supply depot and headed back to motor transport. When they arrived, KC looked for Greg Witt but he was out on a convoy. KC decided to hang around the compound, see if there was anyone there that he knew.

  By 1700, Greg had still not returned so KC went over to the mess tent, figuring dinner there would be a helluva lot better than eating C-rats alone in his room. When he entered, he saw Gunny Masters and went over to his table. The gunny looked up and said, “Hi,
Sir, I was hoping that you’d caught a ride out today.”

  “No such luck. They told us at air field headquarters that there were no civilian flights scheduled.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Lt. Witt is over at One-One again. Apparently, the command group returned to their base but no troops came with them. The only people available to unload the trucks are the drivers and the lieutenant. It’s gonna take them awhile. We were supposed to be having a ceasefire and the whole thing’s turned into a colossal mess.”

  “I just hope it gets sorted out right away. You hear anything about Khe Sanh or Hue?”

  “Only that they’re still fully engaged in Hue and artillery is pounding Khe Sanh almost continuously.”

  KC thought about Major Colombo and hoped that he was doing ok. KC had an idea and said, “I wonder if there are any flights out of Phu Bai.”

  “Sir, I think that all the civilian flights up here go in and out of Danang.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Not absolutely but pretty sure.”

  “Do you know of any way I could check that out prior to tomorrow morning when I go back to the airfield?”

  “We could go over to the command center and see if anybody there knows.”

  At the command center, the captain on duty told them that World Airways did fly into Phu Bai but that service was suspended until further notice. KC wasn’t surprised, given what he’d heard about the situation in nearby Hue. He asked if Lt. Witt’s convoy would be returning soon. The captain told him, “They are still unloading the trucks. When they’re done, they’ll spend the night inside the compound rather than risk coming back at night.”

  KC said goodbye to Gunny Masters and walked back to the transit center. He went into the office and asked the sergeant on duty what the status was. The sergeant said, “There are still no flights scheduled. As far as I know, there are only three or four guys still here. The rest are staying somewhere else or have returned to their units.”

  “Ok, thanks.” KC decided to see how the machine gun crews were doing. As he approached the first crew, he was pleased to see that two positions had been prepared for the ammo carriers to provide flank security. The Marines were eating C-rats when he arrived at their bunker. KC approached and greeted the men. He said, “Last night, I thought I heard this gun fire. Is that right?”

  “Yes, sir, it was Jones. He fell asleep and when that round hit behind us, it startled him awake and he just pulled the trigger for no reason. He won’t be out here again.”

  “Damn. I thought it was poor fire discipline. I’m not sure what Jones did qualifies for that but he certainly did give away your position. Good thing nobody was going to attack.”

  “Yes, Sir, we were all pretty pissed. Lesson learned for everyone else. That won’t happen again.”

  “It’s good to see your rifle positions are prepared. That should help a little. Hopefully, nothing will happen out here.”

  “That’s what we’re hoping, too. I still can’t believe that they put us out here by ourselves.”

  “Stay alert, make the best of a poor situation. Thanks for what you’re doing. I appreciate it,” KC said.

  “Thank you, Sir. We’ll do our best.”

  “I’m sure you will. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

  On the way back to the barracks, KC wondered if he shouldn’t come out later tonight and sit with those men for a while. When he had sensed that his own men were anxious, he’d done that with them. After thinking about it, he realized that doing so might undermine the relationship the men had with their leaders, so he dismissed the idea. Once he climbed onto his bunk, he was quickly asleep.

  KC woke early and went outside to walk up to motor transport for breakfast. As he neared the street he heard a siren, a horn and lots of yelling. He looked down the street toward the west and saw an MP wagon speeding toward him. It stopped and Top Jackson jumped out from behind the wheel. “Quick, get in. There’s a C-130 about to leave for Okinawa. We need to get on that bird. You got your orders?”

  “Always.”

  “Let’s get down there before the MPs realize their wagon is gone.”

  “Oh, so this was an “unofficial appropriation?”

  “Yup. We don’t want to get caught in this,” Top replied.

  “Yeah, they wouldn’t understand. No sense of humor, those guys.”

  Top spun the wagon around and headed toward the airfield. When they arrived at the gate, he sounded the siren and they were waved through. He proceeded over to where a C-130 was parked and they hopped out. There was an Air Force master Sergeant standing by the side door with a clipboard. They approached, showed him their orders and asked to be placed on the manifest. The master Sergeant said, “Sorry but this flight is full. No seats left.”

  Top Jackson said, “How about if we sit on the rear ramp?”

  “That’s not authorized seating.”

  Top signaled to KC and they both took their wallets out. As they began to open them, the master sergeant said, “I guess it would be ok, this one time, but you’d have to pay for insurance.”

  They each pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and the master sergeant said, “Your premiums are paid. Welcome aboard.”

  KC and Top went up the open rear ramp and it then immediately closed after them. They sat down, the side door closed, and they heard one of the engines begin to wind. Then they were taxiing. Ten minutes later, the plane accelerated and they were airborne.

  Lt. KC Huntington and First Sergeant Henry Jackson had the widest smiles as they gave each other the most heartfelt high-five, ever.

  Chapter 6

  Six months after coming home, KC was invited to play in an alumni football game back at his college. During the game, his right knee was twisted out of its socket. The following morning, he went to the Naval Hospital on the base at Camp Pendleton where he was stationed. As KC limped into the treatment center, he saw a familiar face.

  It was a lieutenant colonel that appeared to have suffered horrendous injuries. He had severe scarring on his head, face and neck, one hand was seriously deformed and he was struggling to walk on crutches with one foot dragging.

  KC approached and said, “Sir, I can’t help but think that we’ve met somewhere.”

  “Why, we most certainly have. You briefed me when we took over at Camp Carroll.”

  “Yes, Sir, that’s it. Now I remember.”

  “You were really fortunate to have left that evening. The COC took a direct hit not long after. Everyone in there was killed except for me. And I almost didn’t make it.”

  “I’m so sorry, Sir. That’s horrible.”

  “Yes. Horrible is one word for it. Well, I’m here for physical therapy. Believe it or not, after all this time, they just started me on serious exercises a week ago. It’s nice to see you. I’m late for class.”

  “Nice to see you, too. I’m really glad that you made it.”

  As KC walked away, he realized how fortunate it was that he’d been able to talk that helicopter pilot into landing.

  Chapter 7

  KC sat at the large oak desk in his corner office on the eighth floor of the building he owned, staring straight ahead, seeing nothing. He was lost in his thoughts. Behind him were floor to ceiling windows that framed a stunning view of two city parks. To his left were more of the same type of windows that presented an equally pleasant view of the Missouri River, a quarter of a mile away. After nearly ten years of owning this space, the design of the window systems still provided a sense of amazement for KC. The window coverings were computer controlled to react automatically to the changing external light. As the sun rose, passed in and out of clouds, and set, the shades moved on their own. Depending on how much light the sun cast on the windows the coverings would automatically open or close in infinitely variable degrees so that the ambient lighting level inside his office would remain const
ant. KC liked a constant steadiness, and he liked control of his surroundings.

  As the sunlight diminished in the late afternoon and early evening, interior lighting would automatically be called upon to gradually increase its lumen output so that the light level would continue to remain the same. The intensity of that constant lighting level was easily adjustable by tapping a few keyboard keys. In the days just after moving into the office, KC would play with the computer controls just to watch the blinds, drapes and artificial lighting react. But the novelty had long ago worn off and now KC only played with the system if someone wanted to see how it worked.

  His building was also temperature controlled. To decrease the effect that the exterior temperature had on the interior, narrow HVAC ductwork was installed along the base and the top of the windows. If the interior were being cooled, cool air would be directed through the top window ducts so that the cool air flowed down along the windows. If heating were being provided, the warm air would rise from the bottom ducts. KC was mission and goal oriented, and his office was a reflection of his strategic mind and attention to detail.

  KC’s thoughts landed on the present. Looking straight across his desk, he viewed a glassed-in conference room with a highly polished oak table that appeared to be the size of an aircraft carrier deck. The table was surrounded by plush leather chairs. To his right, also seen through floor to ceiling glass, was the security monitoring area where technicians watched large computer screens. This was where the people working for the Home and Office Security Company did their work. This was KC’s company, one of them.

  It was no surprise that KC was drawn to security work. Ensuring the safety of others seemed to be his calling, if there was such a thing. The job of the technicians on his staff was to respond to any trouble detected by the company’s security monitoring systems that are installed in customers’ homes or offices. When activated, these systems warn of doors or windows being opened, glass breaking, fire sprinklers operating, sump pump failure, smoke detectors being activated, the presence of carbon monoxide gas being detected or a “need help” call from an elderly person’s portable panic alarm. When any of these situations occur, the technicians confirm the emergency with the customer, if possible, and then notify the proper agencies for response if deemed appropriate.