I, Soldier - part 11

The monument is next to the Potomac. James Rumsey successfully tested a steamboat near there and often gets the credit for that invention. I remember going to the monument and the surrounding park a few times as a kid and teen. It was one of my favorite places in Jefferson County. It seemed like a good place for a date, or whatever it was I was doing with Alexandra at that time. It had been a long minute since I'd gotten this far with a gal. I didn't want to break things off when they were going so well but also wasn't sure how to wrap things up and bid farewell. Finally, I took out a mini notepad wrote down my dad's name, address, and phone number as well as the approximate date I'd be back in Jefferson County after my discharge. I also wrote down Truman's name and Army PO box in Da Nang. I explained that it was very hard to get mail where I was, but letters mailed to Truman and Da Nang would arrive and I could read them later. 

"Here, take this. If I survive, I'll be back here around this date and time. If I don't show up, go to my dad and he'll be able to tell you what happened."

"God, everything you say sounds like an epitaph."

"Worst case scenario, death is just a dreamless sleep. Fear not, my love. I'll be back."

I took my time getting back to Vietnam. Long journeys are my hobby, if that's the right word, so I hitchhiked a meandering route. I wanted to see as much of America as possible before leaving and not seeing it again for a few years, if ever. The path of least resistance is what makes a river crooked. I enjoy the mountain west a lot, especially Wyoming and the Grand Tetons near Yellowstone. It struck me that I could spend years wandering the country like John Muir and still not see everything worth seeing in America. It was beautiful thought; that there were countless new adventures to be had.   

I passed through Da Nang on my way back to the outpost in the Central Highlands. Da Nang was home to the biggest US base in Vietnam. To my great surprise, I bumped into Colonel Truman. 

"You're a sight for sore eyes, soldier."

"It's a small world, sir."

"What do you know about demolition? Ever blown up anything with C4?"

"Haven't had the pleasure yet. My job is to win hearts and minds, not some other body part."

"God almighty, son, you have a weird sense of humor. Let's take this conversation somewhere private."

He led me back to an empty office and pulled a folder out of a filing cabinet. I wondered what fresh hell was about to be served.

"Very few American POWs have escaped so far during this war. The enemy keeps them locked up like Fort Knox. There is a POW camp just north of the DMZ. It's run by the North Vietnamese army from what we can tell. Here are some aerial recon photos."

The ironically named DMZ or demilitarized zone was in fact one of the most heavily guarded borders in the world at the time. 

I flipped through the photos. The camp was a bit bigger than a football field. There couldn't have been more than a few dozen prisoners there. The only prison break I knew about in detail was the raid on Cabanatuan at the end of WW2. That camp held US troops who had surrendered when the Japanese conquered the Philippines. There were other Americans who avoided capture and continued to fight. One of them was a guy named Wendell Fertig. He spent years living in the jungle on the island of Mindanao and waging a guerilla war against the Japanese with plenty of Filipino help. Even more incredibly, he did all that in his 40s. Some time after the war ended, he returned to a hero's welcome. Fertig went to be one of the founders of Army Special Forces. The gears in my head started turning. If I could get this raid to work, it'd be that much easier to do similar operations. I knew there were guys who had been captured for years in grueling conditions.

"Sir, where there's a will, there's a way. No one gets left behind."

"I figured you'd say something like that. Feel free to study this file as long as you like. When you're done, head to chopper pad. I took the liberty of loading with plenty of C4 and other toys for you to play with. I know you like to choose your own adventure."

At this point, I suspected that Truman knew me better than my own father. In a way, he was like a second father to me. That didn't make up for not having a mother, but it helped. My dad never explained why my mom never visited or tried to contact me. Maybe she had some kind of mental breakdown. I decided that after the war I would go look for her. 

Not long after, I was flying back to outpost with enough C4 and other explosives to blow up half the province. I was looking forward to demo practice with Binh and whoever else wanted to learn. My basic plan was to plant lots of explosives, blow the camp perimeter to kingdom come, then rally the dazed POWs to run for the rescue choppers before enemy could figure out what hit them. It was risky, but simple, and fewer things can go wrong with simple plans. 

It didn't take too long to learn how to use C4 and teach Binh and the others how to use it. The Fourth of July was my favorite holiday as a kid and so I already had plenty of practice with things that go bang and boom. C4 is safe and easy to use. For me it was basically an extra strength firecracker. It has the consistency of clay and can be molded into various shapes. I amused the men once by molding some C4 into the shape of a rabbit with floppy ears. The Annamite striped rabbit (Nessolagus timminsi) is native to Vietnam. Annam is another, older name for Vietnam.