before it hit the ground.
Hambleton swore. The canister had landed on the
enemy's side of the Maginot Line.
Immediately Birddog came on. "How was the
drop, Bat?"
Hambleton watched as several soldiers headed for
the canister. "Piss poor."
"No matter. It was a dummy."
"A what?"
"Explain later. Was there much ground fire
when I flew over? Any big stuff?"
"Didn't see any. Some small-arms stuff."
"Outstanding. Stand by. Birddog listening
out."
Hambleton shook his head numbly. Was he crazy, or
were they?
"Birddog to Bat Twenty-one. Come in."
"Bat listening, Birddog."
"Roger. Get ready to pop smoke. Jolly Greens
on the way."
Hambleton's heart leaped into his throat. He
couldn't believe his ears. "Say again, Birddog."
"Jolly Greens are coming in. Prepare to pop
smoke."
Glory be to God! It was true! They're coming. They're finally coming! he sprang into action, checking his
flares, gathering the belongings he was going to take.
Then, as he did so, the pieces began fitting
together in his mind. Of course! Those crazy characters had reasons.
They wanted to make the gomers think they were abandoning plans to
pick him up. By dropping supplies ostensibly to tide him over they
hoped to put the enemy off his guard when the Jolly Greens came in.
And to top that the Birddog plane had served as a decoy to see how
hot the area was. That Birddog pilot! That crazy son of a bitch had
actually flown as low and slow as possible over the enemy camp,
trolling for antiaircraft fire, testing to see if it were safe enough
to bring in the Jolly Greens. If that didn't take the rag off the
bush!
Thank God the little plane had only drawn a
smattering of small-arms fire. The SAR unit probably figured the
accompanying gunship chopper could handle that. Thus they had made
the decision to come in. Hot damn! He was gonna run up one helluva
bar bill repaying all his debts.
For a moment he debated about taking Chester.
Strange, the affinity he had developed with the insect. But it
wouldn't be right to take him along, to take him away from his home,
out of his environment. Besides, there was a good chance of his
getting squashed during the pickup. Anyway, Chester would soon be
getting his wings too, and would be taking off on his own.
He reached over, opened the tiny enclosure, and
gently removed the furry worm from its nest. As it crawled along his
palm he felt a ridiculous sense of sadness. He was saying good-bye to
a friend. In the order of living things, few could be much lower than
the worm he held in his hand. But it had been a friend. The two of
them had been through dark hours together.
Gently he picked up the insect and placed it back
into its house, leaving the roof off. He plucked several tender
leaves from a bush and put them in with the caterpillar.
"So long, Chester," he whispered. " Vaya
con Dios. "
He heard the unmistakable chuff-chuff of
chopper rotors. And then he could see them. Two tiny flyspecks in the
east. Coming fast. A rescue chopper and its escort gunship.
Birddog came on the air. "Do you have the
Jolly Greens in sight, Bat Twenty-one?"
"Affirmative, Birddog."
"Outstanding. QSY to Guard channel. You'll be
able to monitor the Jolly Greens as well as myself."
"Roger." Hambleton switched his radio to
the common frequency. "Bat Twenty-one testing on Guard."
A deep, businesslike voice came booming in.
"Roger, Bat Twenty-one. Jolly Green here. Reading you five
square. How me, over?"
"Five by five," answered Hambleton.
"Roger. Will be coming over your spot on a
northerly heading. Can you make it to the clearing just east of your
position?"
"You better believe it."
"Good. Will effect pickup thirty yards due
east your position. Pop smoke and start toward us as soon as we hover
into position."
"Wilco, Jolly Green."
Great news! The rescue chopper was going to come
in and squat. Hambleton hadn't been all that excited about being
winched into a hovering chopper. A winch pickup could take longer,
meaning more exposure to
Hambleton swore. The canister had landed on the
enemy's side of the Maginot Line.
Immediately Birddog came on. "How was the
drop, Bat?"
Hambleton watched as several soldiers headed for
the canister. "Piss poor."
"No matter. It was a dummy."
"A what?"
"Explain later. Was there much ground fire
when I flew over? Any big stuff?"
"Didn't see any. Some small-arms stuff."
"Outstanding. Stand by. Birddog listening
out."
Hambleton shook his head numbly. Was he crazy, or
were they?
"Birddog to Bat Twenty-one. Come in."
"Bat listening, Birddog."
"Roger. Get ready to pop smoke. Jolly Greens
on the way."
Hambleton's heart leaped into his throat. He
couldn't believe his ears. "Say again, Birddog."
"Jolly Greens are coming in. Prepare to pop
smoke."
Glory be to God! It was true! They're coming. They're finally coming! he sprang into action, checking his
flares, gathering the belongings he was going to take.
Then, as he did so, the pieces began fitting
together in his mind. Of course! Those crazy characters had reasons.
They wanted to make the gomers think they were abandoning plans to
pick him up. By dropping supplies ostensibly to tide him over they
hoped to put the enemy off his guard when the Jolly Greens came in.
And to top that the Birddog plane had served as a decoy to see how
hot the area was. That Birddog pilot! That crazy son of a bitch had
actually flown as low and slow as possible over the enemy camp,
trolling for antiaircraft fire, testing to see if it were safe enough
to bring in the Jolly Greens. If that didn't take the rag off the
bush!
Thank God the little plane had only drawn a
smattering of small-arms fire. The SAR unit probably figured the
accompanying gunship chopper could handle that. Thus they had made
the decision to come in. Hot damn! He was gonna run up one helluva
bar bill repaying all his debts.
For a moment he debated about taking Chester.
Strange, the affinity he had developed with the insect. But it
wouldn't be right to take him along, to take him away from his home,
out of his environment. Besides, there was a good chance of his
getting squashed during the pickup. Anyway, Chester would soon be
getting his wings too, and would be taking off on his own.
He reached over, opened the tiny enclosure, and
gently removed the furry worm from its nest. As it crawled along his
palm he felt a ridiculous sense of sadness. He was saying good-bye to
a friend. In the order of living things, few could be much lower than
the worm he held in his hand. But it had been a friend. The two of
them had been through dark hours together.
Gently he picked up the insect and placed it back
into its house, leaving the roof off. He plucked several tender
leaves from a bush and put them in with the caterpillar.
"So long, Chester," he whispered. " Vaya
con Dios. "
He heard the unmistakable chuff-chuff of
chopper rotors. And then he could see them. Two tiny flyspecks in the
east. Coming fast. A rescue chopper and its escort gunship.
Birddog came on the air. "Do you have the
Jolly Greens in sight, Bat Twenty-one?"
"Affirmative, Birddog."
"Outstanding. QSY to Guard channel. You'll be
able to monitor the Jolly Greens as well as myself."
"Roger." Hambleton switched his radio to
the common frequency. "Bat Twenty-one testing on Guard."
A deep, businesslike voice came booming in.
"Roger, Bat Twenty-one. Jolly Green here. Reading you five
square. How me, over?"
"Five by five," answered Hambleton.
"Roger. Will be coming over your spot on a
northerly heading. Can you make it to the clearing just east of your
position?"
"You better believe it."
"Good. Will effect pickup thirty yards due
east your position. Pop smoke and start toward us as soon as we hover
into position."
"Wilco, Jolly Green."
Great news! The rescue chopper was going to come
in and squat. Hambleton hadn't been all that excited about being
winched into a hovering chopper. A winch pickup could take longer,
meaning more exposure to
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