CHEESE SANDWICH AND WARM COKE

Jack and the company had been on an extended sweep for more than ten days on a four-day log cycle. The operational area had been a blend of A Shau dense jungle and scrub Kunai grass. They had almost daily contact with six KIA and 15 WIA. The area was deemed to be “rich” with NVA engagement opportunities-a situation Higher seemed to love, the company less so.

It was the height of the dry season and the captain had tried to keep the unit near streams through that was not always possible. Battalion always was pushing for ambush sites along the mountain’s edges where it abutted the long sloping ground into the occupied plain. All the ambush positions had been distinctly lacking in water.

Troops were laden with a five quart and three canteens in addition to basic loads considerably more than basic. No one wanted to run out of ammo in light of the recent history. Additional Claymores were also humped as they were invaluable for mechanical ambushes-not requiring human overwatch-a major plus.

Battalion had opted to cancel a scheduled log day as the company had several running engagements and it didn’t want to break meaningful contact. The S4 had arranged for a C ration airdrop through the canopy as well as an ammo package dump. This was done by a canopy level hover of several Hueys kicking out the loads in deep canopy. The drop site was enroute to a further objective so it was believed to be a much better idea than having a formal log day PZ on open ground.

Several of the ration boxes were caught in the high canopy, limiting the availability of an already less than full supply. The captain and Jack had collected all the dropped supplies. Batteries were in quantity as well as the following days secure codes and opskeds. The limited recovered rations meant that every meal had to be shared between two men. No large sundry packs meant no books, M&M’s, snuff or cigarettes-all of which were major morale items.

Some red nylon mail sacks were dropped but only half of those for the unit. The NCO’s distributed these after Jack had organized them all by platoon. He received two letters. One was from his mother where she described his dad’s recent tractor accident putting him in a leg cast necessitating her hiring help to compensate on the farm. The other was from a funeral home advertising pre-need plans featuring cremation. Jack thought it altogether appropriate.

The captain directed a lottery amongst the command group for the chow. All boxes would be placed label down in a square. Members would be dealt a playing card face up. The highest value card chose a box and was allowed to extract one item from the box, returning it to its place. Once all hands had a pick, all cards were redealt and the system repeated. No person was allowed to take more than one can at a time. The small sundry pack in each box was extracted and placed in a pile.

In this manner, all the cans were selected. The captain spread the sundry packs evenly so everyone got at least one. The residual would be kept by the FO as a future reward for good service as determined by the captain. Within an hour, the company was ready to move out.

Jack had all ration boxes stacked in the center of the perimeter. He placed a thermite grenade on top with a 15 minute fuse on a blasting cap underneath. Det cord was wrapped around the can. The grenade pin was extracted and the top contained by the first inch of an empty fruit can. The blasting cap would release the fruit can causing a wide dispersion of thermite, incinerating anything useful. Jack would light this just as the unit moved out.

Shortly, the order to move out was given and men began to ruck up and face south. The ground was irregularly sloped under the canopy which greatly increased the difficulty in walking, one leg always higher than the other. Now fully loaded with water, rations and ammunition, the line of green moving men was lost in the individual thoughts used to neutralize the environment in whatever personal way was comfortable in a very uncomfortable situation.

Hunger began to have a mental effect on the unit as time passed. Men could be having heated whispered arguments as they fought over sharing a pecan roll or Ham and Eggs, Chopped, water added. Even Ham and Limas were consumed without complaint. The lack of smokeless tobacco became a significant morale issue, especially in the nightly NDP (Night Defensive Position).

The captain, well aware of this as he walked the perimeter developed a plan for the following day. In time, around noon, they came to a relatively large creek that converged with another. He ordered a perimeter for a one-hour halt. He directed that a smoke break be held en masse. Out came the out of business tobacco firms four cigarette packs from the sundry packets and whatever waterproof cigarettes were still being hoarded. This ensued a lot of almost laughter and a visible rise in morale. Very quickly, almost everyone was smoking, talking in low tones and smiling. Even the non-smokers took an opportunity to assuage the hunger and enjoy the novel moment. In the bush, a little can mean a lot.

Eventually, by Day Ten, battalion recognized it could squeeze no more blood out of the stone and directed a movement to a log LZ. Ironically, this location consumed almost an entire day over rough terrain to achieve. When they did arrive, it did not improve morale.

It was a large densely packed Kunai grass meadow. There was minimal shade which could be barely achieved under the taller grass stands or artificially created under a poncho liner. The air was dead still with density currents clearly rising across the open areas. An LZ had to be cut in the center which was extremely painful work.

The dense stalks had to be macheted to ground level. This meant the cutters had to expose their arms to the razor-sharp grass edges and do so in full sun. The NCO’s ensured that every man work for 15 minutes and then be relieved. It was much like the slaves in the Indies cutting cane but on a short rotation. At the end of a session, the cutter staggered back to his patch of semi-shade and collapsed on the ground. Very quickly, water was almost non-existent and what they had, was decidedly warm.

Overhead, the command chopper rotated awaiting a cleared area. Several times, Long Distance received guidance to adjust the perimeter as well as complaints about the “fuckin tent city” below. Within an hour, the LZ was cleared and the battalion commander landed, hands on hips surveilling the unit. The Huey had kicked up a large cloud of straw, grass and dust which enveloped everyone, adding to the caked dirt already packed between sweat streams. The updraft had blown away a number of the hasty poncho shelters which tore loose and floated all over the ground.

Shortly, four birds landed with the log resupply for the company as well as an advertised A ration meal from the base camp. The troops lined up with the anticipation of hungry wolves with the command group eating last as the battalion commander and captain held a meeting.

Finally, at the end of the line, Jack approached the line of marmites, eager for his share. The pork steaks with mashed potatoes were gone as well as the ice cream. The First Sergeant gave Jack a cardboard box instead which he took back to the shade of a Kunai clump. He opened the box. It was a sandwich with two slices of cheddar cheese and no mayonnaise or dressing. There was also a pony size can of warm Coke. A Louisiana chain gang lunch.

Jack hastily consumed it and threw down the box and can in disgust. He made a mental note that this war was really fucked up.