exploded, but the small group kept running. As the chopper passed off to the side, John saw two bullet holes suddenly appear near the cockpit. Kate is shooting. She needs to lead the bird a little more , he thought as he increased his speed.
As the Russian aircraft suddenly broke left and broke off the attack, Tom said, “It's smokin' a little. I think Kate may have hit an engine or something.”
All eyes were on the chopper as the smoke grew from light gray to a dark gray.
“Keep moving!” Tom commanded.
“What about Kate?” Sandra asked.
“She'll catch up with us.”
John, his eyes on the sky as he ran said, “The chopper is leaving.”
“Don't stop, and I'll explain later.” Tom said, “Keep running.”
They'd covered maybe a hundred yards when Joshua yelled, “Airplane!”
“Run!” Tom yelled in fear, because he knew what would happen next.
The aircraft, obviously not concerned about small arms fire, made a straight approach toward the woods. If anyone running had looked over their shoulder, they would have seen a container fall from the jet, spinning as it fell. It hit the ground with a loud swoosh and flames filled the edge of the treeline.
Tom, running faster now, called out, “Move at right angles behind me! Now !”
Margie's lungs were about to explode and then she realized the napalm had sucked a lot of air into the exploding flames. She ran in a mechanical fashion now, knowing to slow down meant to burn to death or suffocate.
It was well over a half mile before Tom quit running and said, “Five . . . minute . . . rest.”
Gasping and wheezing, the small group came to a complete stop. John smiled when he noticed all of them turned to guard their flanks as they rested.
A couple of minutes later, John said, “This line of trees will turn north in a few minutes and so will we. Before we stop for the day, I want to be twenty miles or more away from this farm.”
John was on drag when he spotted movement behind them. He stepped behind a tree and waited. A couple of minutes later, Kate walked up the back trail. He waited until she was almost in front of him and then said, “Welcome back, Kate.”
She swung the rifle in his direction, but immediately lowered the barrel. “John, you just scared ten years off my life.”
He gave a low chuckle and said, “Move forward and join the others.”
As she moved forward, he scanned the rear, but saw no one. He turned and started after the others.
The day was long and just before dusk, a light rain started falling and the temperature dropped fast. John, who was now in the middle of the group said, “Off to the right, maybe a hundred feet, is where we'll make camp. If you want hot chow, eat it now, because once dark, no fires.”
Soon two sheets of tarp made crude lean-to shelters and everyone was eating, except John, who was standing guard near the trail, with Dolly. He saw and heard nothing, but that meant little. The Russians must be pissed, with a chopper and crew dead. Then there are the soldiers we've killed. They'll come, but hopefully they'll not find us. I wonder if that heat sensing chopper they have is the only one or do they have more? I know some of our gunships in Vietnam had the same technology, because dad talked once about how the heat from the North Vietnamese trucks glowed red to the sensor operators on the aircraft. I'm sure the technology has been perfected, but Lord, keep them away from us.
His shift passed quietly and then he moved back to the rest to eat. All but Joshua were asleep. He pulled out a ration bag, cut it open with his pocketknife and since it was dark, tried to select his supper by feel. Locating the entree`, he tore it open and discovered vegetable stew. Feeling for the biscuits, he opened the pouch and removed one. He's just given a biscuit to Dolly, when he heard a chopper off in the distance and a few minutes later, he picked up the sound
As the Russian aircraft suddenly broke left and broke off the attack, Tom said, “It's smokin' a little. I think Kate may have hit an engine or something.”
All eyes were on the chopper as the smoke grew from light gray to a dark gray.
“Keep moving!” Tom commanded.
“What about Kate?” Sandra asked.
“She'll catch up with us.”
John, his eyes on the sky as he ran said, “The chopper is leaving.”
“Don't stop, and I'll explain later.” Tom said, “Keep running.”
They'd covered maybe a hundred yards when Joshua yelled, “Airplane!”
“Run!” Tom yelled in fear, because he knew what would happen next.
The aircraft, obviously not concerned about small arms fire, made a straight approach toward the woods. If anyone running had looked over their shoulder, they would have seen a container fall from the jet, spinning as it fell. It hit the ground with a loud swoosh and flames filled the edge of the treeline.
Tom, running faster now, called out, “Move at right angles behind me! Now !”
Margie's lungs were about to explode and then she realized the napalm had sucked a lot of air into the exploding flames. She ran in a mechanical fashion now, knowing to slow down meant to burn to death or suffocate.
It was well over a half mile before Tom quit running and said, “Five . . . minute . . . rest.”
Gasping and wheezing, the small group came to a complete stop. John smiled when he noticed all of them turned to guard their flanks as they rested.
A couple of minutes later, John said, “This line of trees will turn north in a few minutes and so will we. Before we stop for the day, I want to be twenty miles or more away from this farm.”
John was on drag when he spotted movement behind them. He stepped behind a tree and waited. A couple of minutes later, Kate walked up the back trail. He waited until she was almost in front of him and then said, “Welcome back, Kate.”
She swung the rifle in his direction, but immediately lowered the barrel. “John, you just scared ten years off my life.”
He gave a low chuckle and said, “Move forward and join the others.”
As she moved forward, he scanned the rear, but saw no one. He turned and started after the others.
The day was long and just before dusk, a light rain started falling and the temperature dropped fast. John, who was now in the middle of the group said, “Off to the right, maybe a hundred feet, is where we'll make camp. If you want hot chow, eat it now, because once dark, no fires.”
Soon two sheets of tarp made crude lean-to shelters and everyone was eating, except John, who was standing guard near the trail, with Dolly. He saw and heard nothing, but that meant little. The Russians must be pissed, with a chopper and crew dead. Then there are the soldiers we've killed. They'll come, but hopefully they'll not find us. I wonder if that heat sensing chopper they have is the only one or do they have more? I know some of our gunships in Vietnam had the same technology, because dad talked once about how the heat from the North Vietnamese trucks glowed red to the sensor operators on the aircraft. I'm sure the technology has been perfected, but Lord, keep them away from us.
His shift passed quietly and then he moved back to the rest to eat. All but Joshua were asleep. He pulled out a ration bag, cut it open with his pocketknife and since it was dark, tried to select his supper by feel. Locating the entree`, he tore it open and discovered vegetable stew. Feeling for the biscuits, he opened the pouch and removed one. He's just given a biscuit to Dolly, when he heard a chopper off in the distance and a few minutes later, he picked up the sound
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