No Windows, No Doors
Without windows and doors nor restraint, we fly. Over the trees, rivers, and
craters we fly, West Northwest toward Quan Loi, up from the Mekong Delta, to the
mountains along the Cambodian border.
This Huey Gunship makes me feel safe. This chopper is the one place
I feel
secure here in the dead zone. Safe at last two thousand feet above the trees,
but this will be short term and I will be sucked back into a world I cannot
escape.
Leaning out over the doorway, I can see down on the convoy nearing Ben Cat half
way up
to Quan Loi. Further up the road, we enter the air space above the old
French rubber tree plantations. The beautiful French homes in the center of the
plantations are often the headquarters for Viet Cong forces. The French people
living there seem to pass freely from our side to theirs.
Topping out over the 175mm/8inch fire base at Quan Loi,
I see the progress we've
made in building the airstrip and securing the compound. Two months ago we made
a mad dash up the road from Di An and grabbed our few acres of real estate in
the middle of the night. That first night should have been our last. Why old
Charlie let us get dug in is beyond my reason.
This knoll on the mountain has become my home and I am back from Rest and
Relaxation with dread. How lucky can you get?
Mike Mercer
Then and
Now
18th Engineers, 557 Light Equipment Co.
March 67- March 68
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Copyright © 2002 by ABattery6/27thArty. All rights reserved.
Revised:
11/01/06 23:07:12 +0100.
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