THERE BE DRAGONS (10 page)

The rain stopped.

The thud of the heavenly waters hitting the rudder-like leaves of the jungle was gone.

The sound from the swarm of mosquitos had ended.

The chirrup of tree frogs no longer floated through the temple.

Jacobs held his breath. He tried to make himself as silent as the sleeping jungle. The eeriness of the location chilled him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

Then ahead, through the mist, a shadowy figure.

“Is that a man? Or just some bushes playing tricks with my eyes.” Jacobs turned to Buttons.

The RTO had his eyes shut, looked asleep.

Jacobs glanced at the Doc.

The Doc was busy checking his equipment.

He looked back at the figure. “Has anyone else spotted the figure? Yes or no?”

The shadow moved slightly. Jacobs saw the shape of the helmet.

The Soviet-styled helmet.

The NVA helmet.

Jacobs could feel and hear the pulse in his temples pounding hard. Sweat ran down the tracks on his face that the rain had left.

The figure walked forward.

Jacobs saw his AK-47.

The shadow motioned behind with his rifle and waved more men forward.

Soon the line of trees was full of the shadowed and faceless NVA.

Jacobs flipped the click and squeezed the handle. A hail of ball bearings exploded on the enemy.

The other men triggered their claymores and the sound of explosions filled the jungle.

Red and orange flashes illuminated the NVA or consumed them. Jacobs saw one NVA explode like a water balloon full of thick red liquid.

The platoon opened fire.

The M-60s were deafening. They tore up the jungle and enemy. They cut through both bark and flesh.

Jacobs fired at the muzzle flashes he saw from AKs ahead of him. “I can’t tell if I’m hitting anything,” he said.

The soldier with Diaz was on one knee cycling through ammo fast. His rifle was on full automatic and he was spraying fire across the tree line, left to right, right to left. He expelled a magazine, clipped another in place and continued.

Jacobs could see Diaz prone, firing in controlled bursts.

Diaz waited until he saw a figure or a muzzle flash, then when there was a light explosion, like a new star forming, spitting a bullet forth, he would fire three rounds. If there was no reply from the star’s creator Jacobs figured it meant death or retreat.

Then Jacobs saw something that made his whole body shake with freight.

An enemy grenade had rolled to Diaz from the bush and come to a stop by his elbows.

Diaz dropped his rifle, picked up the grenade and threw it back at the enemy.

Diaz hit the deck and covered his head with his hands as dirt and branches fell on him. He removed some of the dead jungle from his body then picked up his M-16 and started to shoot again.

The soldier with Diaz removed another empty mag. “I’m out!”

Jacobs could barely hear him above the rattle of AK fire.

Suddenly the solider grasped his chest and fell to the mud.

“Doc!” Diaz waved towards Jacobs’s position.

The Doc charged forward. He jumped over the fallen wall Jacobs used as cover.

Jacobs made sure to lay down heavy fire to suppress the enemy long enough for the Doc to get to the fallen soldier.

The Doc landed in the mud. It took him but a second to realize the soldier was dead. “He’s gone!”

“Get back to the LT, I’ll cover you!” Diaz kept up his fire.

“Okay, but fall back to the same position! Don’t stay out here on your own. You’re a dead man if you do!”

“I know, Doc. Now get going!”

“Diaz, Doc. Move it!” Jacobs lost his patience.

The Doc jumped up and ran back towards Jacobs.

Diaz got up to one knee and switched his rifle to full automatic. He fought against the recoil as he sprayed the enemy line before him.

Jacobs loaded in a new mag, chambered a round and then fired through the mist beyond the ambush site.

He saw a figure drop.

“I’ve downed it,” he said to himself. “I’ve done what you asked in Long Binh, Lynch. I now have a definite answer to your question.”

The Doc fell down by Jacobs. Bullets thumped into the mud by his body. The Doc rolled to cover but another shot managed to hit him.

It pinged off his helmet.

“Close one, Doc,” said Jacobs.

“Too close, LT.”

Diaz started to run to Jacobs’s position. An enemy grenade exploded behind him. The force of the blast blew Diaz forward, off his feet.

He hit the mud and his helmet rolled away from him. He shook his head and held a hand over one of his ears, as if it was ringing. He felt around for his rifle.

Jacobs went to leap up but Buttons pulled him back into cover. “You can’t help him! Stay in cover. Don’t be foolish! We need you alive, Lieutenant!”

Diaz found his gun and pulled it to his body. He took a deep breath and charged forward again. He ran as if his legs were jelly.

He tripped by Jacobs and hit the deck again.

“You okay, Private?” asked Jacobs.

“Yeah … I think so.”

Diaz rolled from his back. Set himself on his front, took aim with his rifle and was back in the fight.

Teacher’s shotgun broke up the sound of automatic fire.

Jacobs could see the farm boy still leant on the tree, using its thick trunk as cover. The tree had taken many hits and had cracked open in several places. Lighter wood protruded from the cracks.

Sawdust spurted as more bullets hit. Teacher didn’t pay it any attention. He just fired at the lightshow of weapon muzzle flashes, shells ejecting from his weapon to his right and flying over Stephens’s prone body.

Stephens dropped his rifle and stood up. He jerked the pin from an M-26 frag grenade and threw the weapon. He dropped back down.

The frag exploded and before the debris had settled, Stephens had his rifle back to his shoulder, firing.

Jacobs let out a spurt of fire over Stephens’s head. “Stephens’s position is getting hit hard! They need all the support they can get. Covering fire!” Jacobs shouted at Buttons and Diaz. They followed the order.

Cage was pinned down. Enemy fire chipped away at the head of the Buddha. Stone and dust flew.

Jacobs tapped Diaz on the shoulder and pointed at Cage. They both fired at the trees beyond him.

Cage jumped to his feet and fired the Blooper.

A cluster of NVA bodies separated into the air. Limbs tumbled down through the foliage. Blood-tails behind them like a failed NASA rocket hurtling to earth.

Cage placed the Blooper on the Buddha’s head and took ahold of his M-16. He fired on full automatic. It was a crazy series of shots. Once the mag was empty in the M-16, he took ahold of the Blooper in his other hand and ducked back down into cover with both weapons. Bullets peppered the head again.

Jacobs and Diaz continued to give supporting fire.

Cage placed the Blooper on the ground and expelled the empty mag from his rifle. He clicked in a new one and fired off some rounds around the side of the head.

Stephens threw another frag, then got back low. He reloaded his CAR-15.

The explosion from the frag threw an NVA into their position.

The dead body landed across Stephens’s legs. He turned, wiggled the body off himself, and kicked it away. It rolled, leaves sticking to the bloody charred flesh.

Stephens was quickly back shooting. He took out two more NVA with controlled bursts.

Jacobs was empty. He expelled the mag then removed another one from his webbing. He clipped it in and chambered a round. He then looked over to check on Jackson and Smith.

Jackson was laying down a steady spread from the M-60, the power of the gun vibrating through his body, making him jitter with each shot.

The weapon cut up jungle, flattened growth and made Mother Nature bleed, and NVA bleed too. A group had their legs chewed by the powerful gun. Their bodies fell and lay over each other becoming a blended human barricade.

An NVA jumped the bodies and fired his AK.

The bullets hit the ground near Jackson. The shots were close enough to force him to look from his line of fire, to guard his eyes from the muddy water kicked up from the impacts.

Smith fired a single shot.

The NVA took it in the chest and fell.

Another enemy soldier jumped the bodies.

Smith fired another single shot.

The NVA’s skull stabbed out the back of his helmet.

Jacobs choked and gagged. He fought the reflex and focused on giving Jackson’s position some much needed supporting fire.

Jackson got the M-60 firing again, its bullets turned an NVA’s flesh to a raspberry slushy. Then

he screamed, “I’m almost out! Feed me!”

Smith dropped his rifle and grabbed the muddy belt of 7.62mm ammo.

An explosion went off.

Smith dropped the ammo.

Jackson fell from the M-60.

An enemy soldier appeared on their flank.

Jackson crawled over Smith; got ahold of Smith’s M-16 and fired.

Click.

No ammo.

The enemy soldier charged and fired wildly.

Bullets ripped up the mud next to Jackson. He covered his eyes with his forearm, a shield of skin.

The shots continued in a line, thudding towards where Smith lay. "Bastards!” he yelled as he rolled from them.

The enemy soldier was almost on top of Jackson now.

Jackson felt around in the wet dark of the jungle, hoping to find a spare mag.

The enemy soldier fired.

Click.

His rifle was empty.

Bang.

Jacobs’s shot hit the enemy soldier in the mouth. Teeth flew. Blood blossomed. The red life force shimmering as it twirled in the air. The body crumpled.

Jacobs came to a stop on his knees by Jackson. “Get that M-60 back in action!”

Smith grabbed the AK from the downed soldier and loaded a spare mag he had took from the Vietnamese’s webbing. He laid down fire as Jackson started to load the M-60.

Jacobs took off back towards the muzzle flash of Diaz. As he ran he heard the M-60 start to roar at the enemy again.

Jacobs dropped near Diaz and started to fire at the shadows.

“Sir!” Diaz shouted between his weapon’s fire. “The other M-60 position has folded! Three guys dead!”

“Stephens’s position is open to being flanked,” said Jacobs. “Cover me, Diaz.”

Diaz did as ordered and Jacobs ran towards Teacher’s position.

Teacher fired rapidly.

Jacobs arrived to see an NVA trooper get hit with a blast from the shotgun and fountains of blood erupt from his body, looking like best vintage claret. The NVA flew off the ground and hit the trunk of a tree.

Teacher reloaded and Jacobs took over firing at the area of jungle he had been covering.

Cage fired the Blooper. An explosion boomed in the distance. He ducked back behind the Buddha head. “LT, we got a problem! The M-60 on this flank is down.”

“I know. Diaz told me. Why can I hear it firing again?” Jacobs shouted back between the bursts from his rifle.

“Stephens left to retake the position. Must’ve done it.”

Jacobs heard Teacher’s shotgun get racked. Then he felt the blast from the gun by his leg.

“You better go help him, LT. We’ll hold here.” Teacher fired again.

Jacobs fired at a darting NVA.

He missed.

The NVA stopped and returned fire.

It hit the tree by Jacobs’s head. Bark scratched at Jacobs’s face, cutting him.

The NVA started to run again. He dashed between the trees and found shadows. He fired once more. The muzzle flash lit his face.

Jacobs compressed his trigger. The shots hit. The bullets ripped up the enemy’s body, leg to stomach, to neck.

“Okay, I’ll make my way to Stephens.”

Jacobs ran. He kept low as bullets whizzed over him.

Teacher stood and pumped all his rounds towards the enemy, left to right. They kept their heads down as the jungle exploded in front of them, buckshot cutting up trees.

Teacher dropped down and reloaded as Cage fired off another shot from the Blooper.

Jacobs heard Cage’s shot hit as he neared Stephens’s position.

Stephens was prone, firing the M-60. The staccato beat of the weapon pounding like a modern war drum. Around him lay three dead US soldiers.

Jacobs fell to the ground by Stephens and fired off the last shots of a magazine.

Stephens gave a quick look to his left to see who it was then continued the suppressing fire.