ground out of his hammock. Woods’s pistol hissed and the NVA soldier dropped back in the hammock, dead.
Arnason stepped around the side of the building and up onto the porch. “Keep a lookout for any other gooks....” He slipped
through the doorway into the dark room. The NVA telephone operator lay slumped over his makeshift desk. Cooking utensils hung
from pegs in the bamboo support poles along the wall.arnason noticed that there were only two bedrolls on the floor and one
AK-47 leaning next to the desk. He was sure that there had been only two guards.
“It’s clear outside,” Woods whispered from the doorway.
Arnason held his finger to his lips and pointed at the telephone receiver dangling from its cord. He stepped back out into
the light and walked a couple of meters away from the building before talking. “Let’s get back and call in the air drop. I
don’t know how much time we have before they send someone out here to check the guards or fix the telephone line.”
Woods nodded.
The Montagnard party waited around the perimeter of the sweet-potato field, camouflaged perfectly by the jungle. A small group
of Bru warriors covered the trail that led to the old village from the NVA base area farther west. It had taken only an hour
to assemble the Bru for the air drop and the flight time from the American base was less than thirty minutes. The sound of
the small FAC aircraft passed over the potato field and banked to the south where the L-19 pilot flew in a racetrack pattern
and guided in the large C-130 aircraft for the air drop.
Woods watched the large pallets hit the ground in the tall grass of the potato field. A small herd of wild pigs squealed and
raced off for cover in the jungle.
Koski was the first one out on the field and hacked through the nylon retainer straps with his machete. The pallets had been
assembled with a dozen man-sized loads on each one. The riggers were good at what they did. Koski handed a pack to each of
the Bru warriors, and it took only a couple of seconds for one of the Americans to make minor adjustments on each of the backpack
straps before the warriors disappeared into the jungle with the supplies.
Arnason was impressed with the efficiency of the Bru warriors. It had taken them less than twenty minutes to clear the drop
zone of the supplies and hide the parachutes in the jungle.
The crack of a rifle alerted the team that the Bru guarding the trail from the NVA base area had made contact with an enemy
force. Within seconds the jungle erupted with small-arms fire and RPG rounds exploding against trees. The Bru fought the NVA
only long enough to give the DZ party time to escape, and then they melted away in the jungle. The NVA commander found his
trail watchers dead and he had nothing to show for his efforts.
The Bru moved fast through the jungle. Warner noticed that they were taking trails around the hidden village and heading toward
a mass of rocks that jutted up from the jungle floor over a thousand meters into the air. The rocks were laced with caves
that were almost impossible to locate unless you had a division of men and months to search.
The Bru chieftain was waiting just inside a cave entrance forarnason and his recon team. He used the interpreter to thank
them for the supplies and then he told the Sedang that the Americans would have to go back to South Vietnam. The rest of the
caves were secret and the Bru would not risk showing them to any outsiders.
Arnason understood. He smiled and waved goodbye to the Bru chief. He was glad that he could move his team out of the area
now that the NVA had been alerted and were starting to search the jungle. If they stayed in the caves for another day, they
would be trapped there for at least a couple of weeks until the area cooled off.
Warner looked at the map andarnason shot a direction with his compass. They both agreed on their location and Warner took
a couple of minutes to
Arnason stepped around the side of the building and up onto the porch. “Keep a lookout for any other gooks....” He slipped
through the doorway into the dark room. The NVA telephone operator lay slumped over his makeshift desk. Cooking utensils hung
from pegs in the bamboo support poles along the wall.arnason noticed that there were only two bedrolls on the floor and one
AK-47 leaning next to the desk. He was sure that there had been only two guards.
“It’s clear outside,” Woods whispered from the doorway.
Arnason held his finger to his lips and pointed at the telephone receiver dangling from its cord. He stepped back out into
the light and walked a couple of meters away from the building before talking. “Let’s get back and call in the air drop. I
don’t know how much time we have before they send someone out here to check the guards or fix the telephone line.”
Woods nodded.
The Montagnard party waited around the perimeter of the sweet-potato field, camouflaged perfectly by the jungle. A small group
of Bru warriors covered the trail that led to the old village from the NVA base area farther west. It had taken only an hour
to assemble the Bru for the air drop and the flight time from the American base was less than thirty minutes. The sound of
the small FAC aircraft passed over the potato field and banked to the south where the L-19 pilot flew in a racetrack pattern
and guided in the large C-130 aircraft for the air drop.
Woods watched the large pallets hit the ground in the tall grass of the potato field. A small herd of wild pigs squealed and
raced off for cover in the jungle.
Koski was the first one out on the field and hacked through the nylon retainer straps with his machete. The pallets had been
assembled with a dozen man-sized loads on each one. The riggers were good at what they did. Koski handed a pack to each of
the Bru warriors, and it took only a couple of seconds for one of the Americans to make minor adjustments on each of the backpack
straps before the warriors disappeared into the jungle with the supplies.
Arnason was impressed with the efficiency of the Bru warriors. It had taken them less than twenty minutes to clear the drop
zone of the supplies and hide the parachutes in the jungle.
The crack of a rifle alerted the team that the Bru guarding the trail from the NVA base area had made contact with an enemy
force. Within seconds the jungle erupted with small-arms fire and RPG rounds exploding against trees. The Bru fought the NVA
only long enough to give the DZ party time to escape, and then they melted away in the jungle. The NVA commander found his
trail watchers dead and he had nothing to show for his efforts.
The Bru moved fast through the jungle. Warner noticed that they were taking trails around the hidden village and heading toward
a mass of rocks that jutted up from the jungle floor over a thousand meters into the air. The rocks were laced with caves
that were almost impossible to locate unless you had a division of men and months to search.
The Bru chieftain was waiting just inside a cave entrance forarnason and his recon team. He used the interpreter to thank
them for the supplies and then he told the Sedang that the Americans would have to go back to South Vietnam. The rest of the
caves were secret and the Bru would not risk showing them to any outsiders.
Arnason understood. He smiled and waved goodbye to the Bru chief. He was glad that he could move his team out of the area
now that the NVA had been alerted and were starting to search the jungle. If they stayed in the caves for another day, they
would be trapped there for at least a couple of weeks until the area cooled off.
Warner looked at the map andarnason shot a direction with his compass. They both agreed on their location and Warner took
a couple of minutes to
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