Great Big Smile

         It must be a hundred degrees; this damn rain isn’t cooling anything off.  It’s coming down so hard, if Charlie walked up to me I wouldn’t know it.  Damn jungle.  Damn War!

         I see Patties eye’s about ten feet in front of me, he’s staring; I don’t think he even sees me.  During the day, everything is green and brown.  At night; in the pouring rain, its black or gray; except eyes are white with black dots.  Pat hasn’t blinked since I can’t remember; I wave at him and get no response.  Then he blinks and gives me the sign to get down.

         Being already seated with my back to a tree, I roll over on my side and flip the safety off.  It couldn’t rain any harder.  There’s nothing in my frame of vision but jungle brush and tree trunks. 

         I hear a footstep, then rustling, more than one, I don’t know?  They’re not trying to cover or be stealthy.  Just walking down the path. 

         Pat, Paulie and Buzz opened up in automatic, short bursts.  I opened up on single shot but could not sense any motion from the darkness, fucking rain.  One whistle, we all stopped firing.  The sound of the downpour and the stench of cordite permeated the air all around us.  We hear a groan, then a whimper.  A figure stands up five feet from me and starts to charge in our direction.  I put three in him; he falls beside me. 

         I hear motion to my left, on the other side of the tree, Pattie opens up, then Buzz.  My peripheral vision catches a number of bodies fall.  Three whistles, we all start to shift position.  Funny, there was no return fire. 

         Two minutes is an eternity when moving through thick shrubs and jungle.  We reposition on the other side of the path.  Two hours to daylight, it’s been raining for four and a half hours.  There’s a clearing one click up the path, we been out here for three nights and do for pickup at zero seven hundred. 

         Most of us are down on ammo, I conserved and have four Mags left.  As we crossed the path, I stopped and passed out three Magazines telling them to go easy; “This is all we have.” 

         Short before the dawns light the rain turned into a thick morning fog.  Sparky announced that HQ was dispatching two transports and four gun ships.  We started to move, as quietly as we could.  It’s been an hour; we can see the light of the clearing through the jungles canopy.  From the edge of the clearing we can see three women and a number of children walking through the field.  Great, civilians!

         Buzz sees a half dozen VC Regulars moving along the opposite perimeter of the clearing.  “Oh crap, this will turn into a shooting gallery.” 

         Sparks gives the gun ships the coordinates, “Repeat, North side of clearing, twenty, I say again twenty Charlie or more.”  I’m twenty feet from Sparks and can hear him as clear as day.  “Confirm, will drop smoke when...” 

         He never heard the shot; I was looking directly at him when he went down.  Dropping the handset, a hole the size of a quarter in his helmet and a gusher of blood draining down over his left ear.  I started to get up but saw Pattie was on top of him and pulling him into the brush, rounds were beginning to land all over.  The Sergeant, picked up the handset and started to scream.  “We’re Under Fire From The North Tree Line.” A thick southern accent.

         Paulie and Buzz start unloading with their grenade launchers.  Containing fire, keep them to the north side.  I see a couple of heads bob out into the tall grass in front of their positions.  Wherever the grass moves I put two rounds.  In the din of heavy fire, I don’t hear the choppers.  There’s yellow smoke and the north tree line gets lit up with rocket fire, shrapnel rounds.  The door gunners are raking the line. 

         The transports are just coming in overhead.  Jamming the last Magazine in my weapon, we all start to move out, Buzz still has his weapon on automatic and is in a full run.  The Sergeant and Pattie are dragging Sparks body, he’s obviously gone.  Paul and I are following up the rear.

         They all make it to the choppers as they touch down; I am still doing a broken field run shooting into the grass where I know something bad is laying.  I can hear the report of the door mounted fifty’s and see tracers going into the tree line.  Pattie and Buzz are in; Paul and the Sergeant are waving me on, ten yards to go when I see a man stand up in the tall grass with an RPG.  I stop, switch to auto and put a burst into him. 

         The projectile misses and lands way to the left but before I can turn; I feel it.  It’s hot and burning in my right butt.  My right leg goes out from under me.  The pain is unbelievable, up my spine and down my leg.  The Sergeant dragged me the last of the way, he lays me down on my stomach and we take off.  I can still hear slugs hitting the thin skin of the chopper. 

         “The Guys Told Me This Is Your First Purple Heart Son!”  The Sarg is screaming over the roar of the engine and rotor blades. 

         “Yeah, Hope It’s My Last!”  I went to smile, but it was more of a grimace.  Looking up at him, he smiled down at me, with black and olive Kamo on and his teeth were as white as snow.  The name stenciled on his body armor was Sgt. G. SMILEY.  “Smiley?”

         “My Wife Says I Got A Megawatt Smile, Son.”  I passed out and never saw him again.