~ Class Of '68 ~

by

Michael Murphy

The first morning in Lang Vei, Tim couldn’t shake a sensation of doom that had engulfed him since he and Jesse had arrived from Khe Sahn. He skipped breakfast and hiked the perimeter of the dog bone-shaped compound convinced the rumored Tet ceasefire would prove to be an illusion.

Tim’s boots clicked against hard cement as he climbed the hill. Instead of tents and wooden hootches like in Phu Bai, Lang Vei was a solid camp made mostly of reinforced concrete dug into a hill.

At the crest of the hill, he stood beside the observation tower above the tactical command bunker. Tim scanned the camp, quiet except for the snap of the American flag as wind swept across the crest of the camp. He tried to get a sense of where an attack might come from as he studied Highway 9, the road that led from the communists’ sanctuary in Laos to Khe Sahn. Americans were determined to hold the highway, one a dogged enemy no doubt coveted.

Tim gazed south past the motor pool to a series of concrete bunkers reinforced with sandbags. He tried to remember which one had been assigned to him and Jesse. Past the bunkers lay three layers of a barbed wire perimeter interspersed with Claymore mines and trip flares, a formidable defense.

To the west were mostly Montanyard tribesmen who hated Communists more than the South Vietnamese government did. Fierce sons of bitches, Sergeant Crowley had called them.

Jesse came from the motor pool along a row of jeeps. He held out a tin cup of steaming black coffee. “You look like a tourist.”

Tim took the coffee and managed a smile. “Some vacation.”

That evening, Tim peered out the cold cement bunker under the moonlight, hoping for one more calm night. A cigarette dangled from Jesse’s mouth as he dealt a hand of solitaire in the dim light.

The hours dragged by and Tim grew tense. Jesse swept up the cards and put them away in his back pocket. “Don’t worry. I can always feel an attack coming.”

“Bullshit.”

Trip flares burst in the night sky.

Jesse and Tim hit the concrete floor as the rattle of automatic weapons shattered the stillness of the night. Explosions shook the ground and spit clouds of dirt and shrapnel in the air.

Tim coughed as dust and smoke rolled through the opening of the bunker. This is it!

Tim and Jesse fired their M-16s as the North Vietnamese charged the barbed wire perimeter. Tim slapped a fresh clip in the rifle and wiped sweat from his eyes. At least he felt more secure in the heavily reinforced bunker.

Another bunker down the hill erupted in a ball of orange flame. While Tim fired at the advancing onslaught, he caught his breath, confident in the superiority of American firepower.

Tim knew the sights and sounds of firefights, but in seconds he heard a new noise. A clanking and creaking, metal-against-metal clatter drifted from the highway. Through the smoke and dirt, Tim strained to see the source of the commotion as the sound grew louder. When flares burst, he caught glimpses of tanks reaching the outer perimeter.

Reinforcements from Khe Sahn wouldn’t come this soon, or from the south. Tim squinted through the smoke. A half dozen tanks creaked toward them.

“They’re tanks, Cooper. Goddamn NVA’s got tanks.”

“They don’t have tanks!”

“What do you call those mothers, Volkswagen Bugs?”

Plodding forward, the tanks swept the bunkers with machine gun fire and high explosive cannon rounds. Searchlights from the tanks lit the way for infantrymen creeping behind the armored protection of the hulking machines. Using automatic AK24s, the enemy soldiers directed fire on the bunkers.

Sandbags split and bullets peppered the outer walls of the bunker. Bright flashes lit up the smoke and dust casting a Halloween-like glow over the battleground. A blast behind their bunker tossed a jeep into the air. The vehicle crashed to the ground, tumbled down the hill, and came to a stop twenty feet from their bunker. An explosion to the right sent chunks of concrete bounding toward them.

Choking from the stench of burnt rubber and gasoline, Tim and Jesse flattened themselves against the floor.

American mortars focused on the tanks. Tim and Jesse cheered when a tank went up with a roar in a billow of fire. They fired at four tank crew members who fled the burning hulk.

To the right, Tim could hear the pop of automatic weapons. Advancing troops clashed with Montanyard tribesmen at the western edge of the compound, but the assault’s main thrust seemed directed toward their bunkers at the south end.

Tim ducked when American F-4 Phantoms screamed overhead, but the enemy was too close for jets to provide air cover. The pilots circled to the west and struck the North Vietnamese there, then streaked away toward Khe Sahn. Lang Vei’s defenders were on their own.

Jesse pointed to a tank breaching the perimeter. He and Tim directed fire at the infantry that poured through the opening. How long could they hold on?

Tim felt heat from the fires as tanks and North Vietnamese attackers drew closer. His ears rang from the deafening barrage and the shouts and screams of men.

The unexpected tank had taken out nearly half of the fortified positions. Americans scrambled out of the bunkers, shouting orders to fall back. The relentless creak of the tanks grew nearer.

Smelling diesel fuel, Tim peered out the opening. Fuel flowed toward the bunker from the motor pool. Any second, flames could engulf them.

“We have to get out of here.” Tim could barely move as fear threatened to overwhelm him. He glanced at Jesse who clutched his M-16 and shivered against the wall. “Jesse.” Tim scrambled across the bunker. If he couldn’t save Jesse, he couldn’t save himself. “Listen, if we fall back, air cover can be called in to halt the advance.”

Jesse’s wide eyes darted around the bunker.

Taking a deep breath, Tim smacked his friend’s face. When his expression didn’t change, he slammed the big man against the concrete wall.

Jesse blinked. He wiped a hand across his face, seemingly once again aware of his surroundings. “Okay, let’s go.”

Tim pushed Jesse out the opening. He followed his friend, who scrambled toward the motor pool. They crept past two burning trucks and struggled up the hill.

When the tanks fired on the command bunker, Tim and Jesse flattened against the ground. An explosion knocked chucks of masonry from the observation tower and machine gun fire raked the cement steps.

The tanks seemed to pause for a moment. Tim and Jesse veered around the tower and scrambled to the north side of camp. With Jesse running beside him, Tim stumbled to the side of a truck and spotted three American Marines including a sergeant with a radio.

Tim pressed against the truck tire and sucked the night air in ragged gulps. He could barely hear the tanks. American mortar continued to counterattack while the sergeant radioed in,. requesting air strikes against the main assault at the evacuated bunkers.

Tim clapped Jesse on the shoulder. “You okay?”

“Sorry about back there.”

Tim smiled. “Back where?”

The sergeant crawled forward and stopped in front of Tim. “We weren’t hit like you guys. The NVA broke off the attack, but we don’t know for how long.” He held up the radio. “Reinforcements won’t come until dawn. Spread out and see how long we can hold on.”

With a nod, Tim crawled toward a stack of sandbags. He checked his watch by the orange glow of flames on the other side of the hill. Several hours until daylight.

Reaching behind him, Tim unclipped his canteen. Surprised to find it nearly empty, he shook the canteen and noticed a small round hole. He turned it around to the other side. Jagged metal stuck out the back. The bullet had missed his spine by an inch.

Ignoring the brush with death, Tim managed to shake a few teaspoons of cool water into his parched mouth. He tossed the empty canteen toward an overturned trashcan.

Explosions and automatic fire continued from the south. A fierce battle raged on the western part of camp, but as Tim lay still, the loudest sound seemed to come from the pounding of his heart.

Tim had been in dangerous situations many times in the past few months. With his uniform cold from sweat and fear, he’d never felt closer to death. Would he hear the bullet or shell fragment coming? Outnumbered and possibly surrounded, it no longer seemed whether he would die, but how.

The tanks broke past the command bunker and crested over the top of the hill. Tim ducked as a blast struck a fuel dump. He could feel the heat from the ball of flame as black smoke boiled skyward. Straining to see through the haze and darkness, Tim jumped when a hand slapped him on the shoulder.

The Marine sergeant pointed to two trucks at the edge of the mess building. “We’ve been ordered out.” He tossed the radio aside. “It’s our only chance.”

Tim glanced over his shoulder at the large truck. He flashed Jesse a thumb’s up.

In a crouch, Tim followed the sergeant as they ran toward the sound of oncoming tanks. With the crack of automatic weapons growing louder, Tim reached the first jeep. He dove in as the sergeant climbed behind the wheel of the second.

The sergeant started his jeep. Grinding gears, he kicked up gravel and sped away. With trembling hands, Tim turned the ignition. The starter chugged. The engine didn’t catch. He tried again. Two shots pinged off the rear fender.

Don’t flood her, Tim told himself. Baby her like your woody. His foot shook when he pumped the gas. He held his breath and tried again. The engine caught.

Tim popped the clutch as a cluster of bullets peppered the passenger side of the jeep. A round splintered the gearshift knob, slicing Tim’s hand. The windshield shattered as he spun the tires and roared away.

The sergeant stopped and picked up Jesse and one Marine. Tim sped toward a stack of barrels. He slowed as the last soldier climbed inside the jeep. Gunning the jeep, Tim raced through the gate. The roar of tank fire and explosions faded behind him.

With his sweat-soaked uniform sticking to the driver’s seat, Tim tried to keep the sergeant’s jeep in view as he followed without lights. A single round pinged off the rear bumper. He glanced at the Marine beside him and nodded. Maybe they’d make it.