What can go wrong?

(WARNING: Explicit language / concepts following, read at your own risk.)                                                                                                    



June 10th, 1965 Operation: Silent Night was approved. June 11th, 1965 the operation was under-go. Operation: Silent Night was the operation to end the war, the whole operation was centered around dropping chemical bombs on key resistance locations and deploying the agent known as White-Out, the agent was designed in laboratories in underground labs back in the United States of America.


The chemical had the effects of literally erasing the mind of whomever comes into contact with it, even the slightest infection from it could do such. Any physical contact at all and your mind would be a clean slate. The upside to this was that there seemed to be a way of controlling the agent by deploying the counter-agent Fill-In.


Fill-in's reaction to White-out would simply create a zombie of sorts, with these implements it would mean rather easily they could make every key-base of anti-American resistance cease work, then by dropping the Fill-in agent, they would be able to command them to disclose the battle plans and secrets the NVA and Viet-cong had tried so hard to hide. Of course the concern was that the White-out was permanent and only Fill-in would restore it. Though in certain instances the restore process failed, a few test-subjects began to remember only the basic human needs with also basic driving / moving capabilities and a couple of needs of course happened to be eating and drinking.

For whatever reason it would seem that the chemical converts the need of a human body from water and nutritional substance to be able to adapt only to blood and meat. Despite these possible effects, the United States government decided to use the agents.


A force of sixteen CH-47 Chinook helicopters and twenty UH-1 'hueys' were deployed at 12:00 AM Eastern time the bombs scheduled to be detonated manually in sixteen different locations around the key-points behind enemy lines, one huey assigned to guard each Chinook while four extra circled around the general area scouting for any NVA approaching while the bombs were armed set to explode in fifteen minutes after the helicopters were set to return to base, enough time to escape the zone of chemicals. This is the story of those soldiers at ground zero of Operation: Silent Night.


















"Saddle up boys, those girls in the Chinooks will piss their pants if they don't have some protection down there, ETA five minutes." Johnny called back to the group of soldiers he was transporting, I myself knew every single grunt in the huey, Johnny was the pilot and Joe his co-pilot. The two looked rather closely related however they were by no means the same with personality, Johnny was all business, twenty four seven and the most serious man you'd ever meet in your life with an average height of five ten or so and Joe rather close to that. Joe was a bit of a joker but he sure as hell was the best pilot why he was co-pilot no one really asked but perhaps he just didn't want the immediate blame if something went wrong. Both of em' were caucasian and from the mid-western part of the US, sharing blonde hair and hazel eyes they could be brothers but Joe's last name was Lawrence and Johnny, Cunnings. Myself, Carl and Jack sat in the mid section. Carl had dark hair and matching dark brown eyes while Jack had a deep determined blue, with dark blonde hair. The only man here who really was suited to lead was Howard, the man had an air of command about him despite him only a corporal with a cool head and fast mind he made the squad what it was. The rest of our squad was divided into other helios along with other squads we were the assigned protection of the bomb carrying chinooks, the damn things were carrying chemical bombs that the big-heads up at HQ thought would end the entire war within a single week. We were closing in and really, I was damn scared. Like a normal person would be, though we were supposed to be the big bad dogs that the US sicced on enemies. Going behind enemy lines and deploying chemical bombs? That was just crazy right off the bat, but I can't say much as if it would end the war and bring me back home, I'd plant the damn things myself. Looking out the open door to the forest below us, I happened to think about myself. I suppose I was pretty clean, tall and strong as any other soldier though my hair was light blonde and bright blue eyes. I came from upper Minnesota though the draft didn't care where you were as long as you could pull a trigger and run towards the enemy, it would take you.
Howard spoke up standing out the door and just now getting back in, moving his M16 to his right hand "Listen up ladies, when we land we secure the demo' experts and don't let anything breathing near the perimeter." I chuckled and listened to Carl say " Hell we shouldn't even be flying this early, NVA probably shit themselves thinking we are invading them." though I doubted the NVA would shit in their pants anytime soon, I simply nodded and brought up my own M16A1 rifle, the fuckers jammed like hell but they did the job. The rest of the ride was filled with chatter but it did not matter to me, the huey began to land along with the others. We had two hueys on the ground and four circling, two chinooks that had the demo experts and their 'war-winning bombs' I dropped out the side with Carl, Howard and Jack. The huey took off to provide cover with the others after dropping off a total of fifteen infantry with six or seven demo experts. The two five foot thick and ten foot tall bombs were being placed and wired, myself and Jack were sitting on the ground besides each other, Carl and Howard were talking with the bomber guy while the others did their job with the hueys circling providing cover. Then hell broke loose.




They had to have spotters somewhere because mortar shells began raining around us, one shell landed right on a soldier and tore him apart as it exploded, it sent one bomb over to the ground and crushed a demo expert. This expert was crushed by the weight, the bomb then took a mortar to the middle, denting it and causing gas to leak out from the top. I didn't bother as these mortars raided us, NVA came sprinting out from the jungle forest around us, the M60's on the hueys ripped into them but no end was insight, the dead began to literally pile as the squads went back to back around the bombs and the experts trying to arm them. All I heard was the rush of adrenaline and shells hitting the dirty ground, I pulled the trigger instead of squeezing, Howard had taken a bayonet to the chest and Carl was applying what aid he could while Jack covered him. We had a tight knit group around the bomb armers and the wounded. The gas began to pour more as a mortar hit between us and blew Howard to death along with Carl though the mortars stopped and my own face was blank, I had an abundance of thoughts transpiring in my head. The first thought was to cut and run but a huey took a loud screech from a RPG launched from the forest, there was at-least fifty dead men around us and more coming still with bravado and suicidally strong dedication to see us dead. The huey began to spin out of control, smoke pouring from the bird as men were thrown out while the pilot fruitlessly gripped for control. I was too busy with a man yelling in my ear, why was he yelling? It didn't matter, some of us would make it out just to die later and the unlucky would go home. I did hear him though for some of it "The gas is leaking, run into the forest, LZ set up two klicks north." running through NVA grounds for a LZ? We have to be crazy...I didn't disobey and simply began to run, leaving everyone behind heading straight north as mortars rained down and I heard it make contact with the chemical bomb, whatever was going on I could hear the huey's gun-fire and the soldiers dwindling as screams and gun-fire mixed I could only hear my own breaths as I saw a NVA come up from under a spider-hole, as he reared himself towards me I rammed my bayonet straight into his forehead and sent him back down the hole. Though I did lose my bayonet in his head I continued to run. I'm sure the hueys would do everything they could but we all knew that the gas had been released and we had only minutes to get the hell away before it took us over, the other bombers would be exploding soon as well. Other soldiers were starting to catch up to me, turning back one tried to wave me to stop but, as he waved and I started to slow something dove from the darkness and tackled him like a wild animal. I screamed for cover and began to run again, hoping someone else would be able to help him. Why I fled, I don't know...but, I wasn't going to die in 'Nam that was for damn sure. It felt like I had needles pumping in my lungs instead of oxygen and after another solid minute of full-out running past NVA, our boys and such I finally dropped to the ground in thick bushes, laying down panting hard and drenched in my sweat. I lain in the grass and bush as I saw or more of heard something, a low growl and mindless groan. Shifting silently I forced myself to draw my M1911 Colt. handgun, side-arm to just about every US. Soldier that wasn't some fancy ass spec-op or spy. Navy seals, I didn't even want to think about as I watched. A NVA soldier was stumbling around with a combat knife in his heart. there was also a few holes in his stomach. The man should be dead, I almost felt pity as I pulled my sight to his head. Though the most unlucky GI ran in screaming as someone shot at him, bleeding heavily from the side possibly from a grenade shrapnel wound. The NVA soldier leapt like a leopard and dove into his gut sending the man right over me and into the grass, I heard screams and grunts as the NVA began to...eat him...? I had stood and slowly drew my handgun sights upon the back of the NVA's head and fired point blank, not once, not twice but thrice. He spasmed and fell to the side as the soldier lay dead, he had chunks of his throat and face missing. I took his dog-tags and put them in my pocket, John Sayon, he was a young one. I took his grease gun and put my M1911 in his pocket. It was out of ammo and he had a few clips for his weapon. I began to sit and try to catch my breath, there hadn't been any gunshots from the hueys but there was a heavy-fight between NVA and our boys. I stood after about a full minute and noticed the GI was gone...I slowly turned around to look, holding his grease-gun at hip level as something hit me off my feet. I flew several feet off the ground and into the dirt-floor below me now. The soldier's face reeked already of death, his jaw moved but no sound came and his eyes were dead. He still dripped blood from the NVA attacker, I squabble below him as he viciously tried to bite my throat. His grease-gun fell out of my grip and I was forced to take my K-BAR knife from the sheath above my heart, jamming it straight up through his chin into his jaw he fell to the side. Panting and puffing, I slowly stood after retrieving the blade and sheathing it again. Leaving his grease-gun I began to run harder, determined to make it to the LZ as I could hear more groans and seeing no more hueys circling I knew something had gone seriously wrong. I didn't bother to look back, I just ran, ran and ran harder. But as I ran through a thicket of bushes, I had not judged there would be a small stream and the drop down to it caused me to fall and bust my ankle, the pain shooting through me felt like I had been shot. The groans grew closer and I brought up my M16 in one hand with a grease-gun in the other. I was prepared to waste those creeps. Accuracy be damned, I would not let them get me...the ugly freaks. I had concluded the chemicals must - before I could react one had left like a ferocious wolf at my side. We tumbled in the forest floor as I sprayed with my grease-gun, hitting the one sprinting inhumanly behind him even though a chunk of his knee was blown away. My rounds went straight up his chest and dropped him on his back twitching wildly. More were coming as I used the length of my M16 as a barrier between me and the GI though he had actually bit my earlobe and ripped it off, it felt like a fire was spreading from my ear to the tips of my finger and the nails of my toes. Screaming back into the ugly face that one eye had been blown out by a bullet that passed from eye to the back of the head and out but must have missed the brains stem as it still functioned. His hair was dark and bloody with matted mud, he was as ugly as they came and his uniform was torn with bullets and defensive wounds from his victims, but I wouldn't be his next. I put the last of my human strength into throwing him clean off me, the adrenaline rushing through me like a cocaine high. I sure as hell hadn't signed up for this, already knowing standing would have just given the zombie recovery time I turned and fired into the zombies gut and up, stopping with sixteen rounds in his total body and at-least three in the skull. Scrambling I took my M16 as I tried reloading the other zombie I had sprayed was getting up though, I kept going. Running knowing my pursuers were playing a sick game with me, letting the wounded animal run until they grew bored and slaughtered him. It was almost a whole thirty seconds; an eternity when running while your legs beg you to stop and your heart pounds like an African war drum. When my clock expired, the zombie closest lunged and missed by centi-meters as I took a long lunge forward. The zombies ugly nails hooked the cloth of my sleeve and ripped it clean from me while dragging his nails over my skin, slicing through the skin by pure force as he passed in an instant I felt the blood begin to swell up at the minor wound. When your life is on the line, joints be damned, you run or you die. I had no need to die today, my vision was clouding for some reason and it seems the world was slowing to a molasses time crawl. Though my legs also had the feeling they no longer were on an unstoppable rampant fire. Though the next zombie that lunged was accompanied by another, I felt myself being thrown to the ground but it did not bother me...if this is what death felt like, then so be it. The coldness over-taking me didn't hurt at all...it felt peaceful even. Though as one pinned my arms and began to rip into my chest with his teeth, ripping flesh, spewing crimson blood and yet I didn't feel a thing. Rapidly the horde descended on me and slowly second by second I ticked into my own deathly silent abyss.
... Minutes afterwards....
A-a live..? I slowly moved, twitched then sat up covered in my own blood with torn clothes and my M16 empty of bullets. It was strange, I couldn't remember much but that I had a horrible appetite I needed to satisfy, looking over myself my skin had fallen ill yellow and my hands seemed animalistic to a degree. I had died? I swore...death, life, its all the same but this extreme need for substance drove myself insane, I tried to call out for help or a medic but upon standing I saw my flesh was ripped down to the muscles around my left leg with blood caked around me and a good-sized pool of my own crimson blood. All that came out when I tried to call for help was a long and high-voiced groan or moan of sorts. ' What am I 'Was the only thought in my head as I slowly began to pick up a jog...I wonder any of my squad made it back. Maybe I'll follow the howls and groans to the base.