With a loud crack the star shell exploded high above in the night sky. Bursting open in a shower of sparks that lit up the heavens and bathed the whole area in a very brilliant white light. A small parachute was assisting the lights slow decent back towards earth. But it’s swinging action that was brought about by a light steady wind made for some ghostly sights in the jungle far below. Even so the light was most welcome allowing the troops to identify friend from foe.
Michael was lying in a very shallow shell scrape hole that he had hastily prepared for himself just a few hours earlier. Slowly he raised his body up on to his knees, as he peered very carefully over the top of the dirt that he had thrown up while digging this temporary home. Staring out in to the night he could see the shadows that the light high above him was casting on the jungle. He could make out ghostly figures moving from tree to tree just like shadows in the night or that’s what Michael called them. These figures were not members of Michael’s team and anyway they were on the wrong side of the barbed wire entanglements that lay in front of him below the hill. He also knew that no members of his team had been sent out on patrol that night. So they had to be the Vietcong picking their way through the jungle to launch an attack against them. For the moment they were still out of range, but it would only be a few minutes before Michael knew that all hell was about to be let loose. After counting more than twenty Vietcong he gave up, this was a large force that they were up against and that it was going to be a big battle.
Buy now he had reckoned on there being so many that a semi automatic rifle was going to be of no use to him. It would not be able to keep up with the numbers that were about to be thrown at their defences. In a situation like this your only chance is to kill as many of the enemy as you could, by using mines or home made bombs on them before they got to close.
On the heaped up diggings in front of him lay a couple of dozen small metal black boxes all with handles sticking out of there right hand sides. There were also wires coming from them that led away from his position and out to strategic spots that lay in the direction of the advancing Vietcong. These devices were to detonate bobby traps, mines and home made bombs that had all been painstakingly set up only a few hours earlier.
With the sight of this large band of enemy advancing towards them, the worse thing he could do now was panic. To beat them he was going to have to keep calm and to use a cool head. He would also need to rely on his comrades that were scattered around the top of this small hill, that they had been asked to hold at all costs until the next morning. But they were very thin on the ground so thin in fact that in stead of the usual two to a trench, tonight it would have to be just one. The only communication between them would have to be the old well-tried and tested human shout. At times the only way they were going to know who was dead would be when there was no shots being fired from that position.
Michael waited until the first of a large group of Vietcong had penetrated the far perimeter barbwire entrapment. Reaching foreword he grabbed one of the little black boxes that he had previously marked and hastily wound the handle on its side. That was the moment that all hell was let loose and started the battle to end all battles or at least as far as Michael was concerned.
At the very same moment that one of Michaels land mines planted near the barbwire exploded with a tremendous bang, high above a second star shell exploded taking the place of the first that had by now been extinguished. The noise became deafening with the sound of explosions and semi automatic fire from both side. The whole scene was of big explosions and tracer bullets winging through the night, of human cries for help and of stray ricocheting bullets glancing off any thing that was solid.
The shear amount of enemy bullets that were coming Michael’s way was enough for him to keep his head down. He knew that his explosion would have just wiped out a dozen or so enemy. But he also knew that there would now be another dozen or so arriving to take their place. So he had to raise his head once more to take a look and to grab another little black box. As he reached out to grab the next one at that same time he had a quick look down the hill and just like he had thought there they were. Still coming at him only this time he swore that there was twice as many as there was before. Then with his head down he gave the handle of the box steady turn. He saw the flash from the bottom of his shell scrape and at the same time he heard the explosion. It seemed like only a few meters away from him.
At the same time that Michael was exploding his land mines, other members of his small team positioned all around him were also doing the same. Orders had been given that nobody was to move or to try and crawl to other positions. This way they knew that anybody out in the open was the enemy and were fair game to be shot at. If you were hit then you had to stay where you were and stick it out till the morning.
Suddenly it went all quiet and the only noise that could be heard was the hissing of another star shell swinging high above them. It had been fired from their base way back nearly twelve miles away. Somebody to Michaels right shouted that the enemy were regrouping and they should expect a bigger attack to follow soon. Michael could also hear a guy to his left in pain and crying, he knew it to be Alan. He was the youngest of the group who had only just arrived out from the states a few weeks earlier.
“Here they come again,” shouted somebody at the back.
With that Michael stuck his head up to see from what direction this second attack was to come from. After taking in the situation he grabbed three more of his little black boxes and dragged them in to the cover of the trench. He could not believe his eye he swore that there was a couple of thousand of them and they were proceeding to climb the slight hill in front of him.
This time he let all three of the mines off simultaneously and once he thought that the dust had settled raised his head. To be greeted once again by thousands of the enemy all trying to climb the hill and over their dead comrades bodies that lay before them. Now it was getting very scary for him because they were getting ever closer and increasing in numbers. They were also positioning some of their men who must have been snipers. Behind the bodies of the first wave that had all been killed, as cover to pick of anybody who stuck their head up from their trench.
He could not understand why these guys did not crawl towards their enemy. After all they were very good jungle fighters and highly obedient towards their officers. What ever they were called on to undertake, they would carry it out to the letter and with no questions asked. If they were to only stalk their prey quietly, unseen and undetected, instead of just blundering they’re way through the jungle and in the full glare of the star shells. Then they would be an enemy that would be very hard to beat in battle. The star shells were a good aide for Michael and his little band of men but it must be remembered that it would also assisted the Vietcong as they tried to pick their way through the maze of traps and obstacles that had been placed before them.
The battle had been waging now for almost an hour and during all of that time Michael had not fired a shot, which says a lot for his courage he was methodical in doing his job. He knew that as long as the guys around him did not panic and did what was expected of them. Then there was a good chance that they would survive the night. But under fire everybody reacts differently and no matter how much training you have been put through, when it comes to the real thing you will react totally different. It also affects you in a sense that the more skirmishes that you are involved in and escape from with out a scratch. It is as though the odds of you taking a hit get greater and after a time people start to think the next one will be their last. The worse scenario is that during the last couple of months of their tour. They will try to dodge the bullets, and then it becomes an art form. After all who wants to go through a hundred battles only to be killed the day before you are about to leave for home and so called safety.
Then suddenly and almost as quickly as it had started it was all over. Michael watched as those that had not been killed turned back to the bottom of the hill. It was also noted that there was far less retreating than had started up the hill. Leaving behind heaps of bodies strewn around everywhere as far as the eye could see.
Michael decided to break one of his own golden rules and crawl over to Alan who was still moaning in agony nearby. His cries of help were upsetting most of the other guys around him, who had so far escaped injury. After shouting out to those close around him about what he intended doing, Michael slid out of his shell scrape. Keeping as low a profile as possible and sliding on his stomach and headed straight in to Alan’s shell hole. Landing on top of him and causing him great pain. Once again he cried out with the discomfort of Michaels arrival. In the dark eerie light Michael assessed that he had taken a large piece of shrapnel in his left shoulder. Michael tore off the first field dressing from the stock of Alan’s rifle and after fluffing up the bandage like a wad he stuffed it into the large gapping hole just above his breast. He then stuck a morphine needle in his upper leg and whispered to Alan, that he had to hold the bandage tight up against the wound. He also told him that he would be back to him later and that he had a good chance of making it.
Not wanting to be caught out in no mans land Michael once again shouted to his friends and slid back to the safety of his own hole. Making it just in time as the alarm went up informing everybody that the third attack was now under way. Just like before wave after wave of Vietcong tried to storm the well-protected hill. Michael once again waited until the last minute, so that the enemy in front of him were with in striking distance of his mines, before detonating the first two. By now he was starting to get a little worried he knew that he had not many mines left out there. If there was to be further attacks then some how he would have to set up some more. If the enemy kept this up all night it was looking like they would eventually be over run and swamped by shear weight of numbers. He even laid his rifle on top of the dirt barricade in front of him along with a flared pistol. He checked that the nine-millimetre Browning pistol was still in its holster on his right hip. This time he was not going to be caught out. If they reached as far as his trench it was going to be full on and with no holds barred.
The bullets were flying thick and fast now above Michael’s head and at times he could even feel the wind from them as they whistled very close. Just after he let off another couple of mines he looked over the top to try and judge the situation. It was mayhem, there was bodies laying everywhere and a vast majority of them were moving around in agony from the wounds that they had sustained. But what did amaze Michael was that most of them were suffering in total silence. In stark contrast the few members of his little band that had been hit were making more noise than the all the enemy added up and there seemed to be thousands of them. In a way Michael admired these little fighters for their shear guts and courage. He had always been lead to believe that they were just ordinary peasants and farmers. But they certainly believed in fighting to protect their country and what they thought was rightly theirs. What also amazed Michael was where did they all come from. After all they had been fighting now for nearly fifty years and in all that time there had been millions killed. So where the hell did this lot come from that was attacking him now.
As Michael looked down the hill at the carnage that lay in front of him, he could see two distinct heaps of dead where each wave of attack had reached. They were getting ever closer to his trench, he was just hoping that the attack that was now under way would not get any nearer to his position.
The night sky was still being lit up by the constant supply of star shells bursting high above him. But on the ground the lights and flashes were all made up of oranges and red lights that came from the explosions that were going on around him. This time Michael had to keep his head up in order to see the enemy and where they were. It was a good job that he did as with out warning they were on top of him. One even came from behind which left Michael to surmise that the positions behind him at the back of the hill had all been over run. He grabbed his rifle and started swinging it around his head knocking two of the enemy to the ground, before he turned the rifle around and shot them both in the stomach. Suddenly he felt something whiz by his left ear but carried on fighting paying no attention to the pain. Within just a few minutes there were five Vietcong laying dead just in front of Michael on the dirt heaped up in front of his trench. It was then that he felt what must have been blood running down the side of his neck. As he felt his ear he could feel that there was a small piece missing. A bullet had passed right through his ear tearing a small lump away as it went. All he could do was just wipe the area with his camouflaged sweat rag from around his neck. There was no time to do anything else, as there was still enemy coming at his position. Just then he took a ricochet bullet to the top of his left arm, the shock and pain dropped him to his knees. But Michael made a super human effort to get back up so he could see over the top of his trench. Which he did and grabbed his rifle so that he could carry on shooting. Luck was with him at that very moment the Vietcong that had not been killed started to drop back. Once again they had fought them off and he had survived, but he was not sure how many guys around him had been as lucky.
After about fifteen minutes of silence it was plain that the Vietcong were regrouping down below once again. Michael realising that his ammunition was getting low, also surmised that most of his comrades would be in the situation. So he called out to his friends to try and establish how many of them were still alive. To his amazement most of them managed to answer that they were okay although several of them were wounded. Michael shouted to them again telling those that could, they must crawl out front of their positions and to try and set up as many mines or home made bombs as possible. Nobody was to fire during the next thirty minutes while all this was happening, unless Michael gave the order. He had to convince those that were still alive that it had to be done in order that they could survive the night. At daybreak and once the choppers could get into the air help would arrive to save them.
Although Michael was by now in constant pain he knew that the job had to be done. After all it was the mines that had saved them so far from annihilation. He crawled out on his stomach for almost fifty meters from his trench where he buried six small anti personnel mines. Then he set up a few bobby traps that consisted of hand grenades that were placed into old bean tins with their pins removed. The clips were kept in place by the inside of the tins. The hardest thing for him was to find the trees where he had nailed the tins to earlier in the day. Also the earlier explosions had destroyed some of them. But there was sufficient to set up about eight of them. After placing the grenades into the tins a fine nylon line was then tied to the grenades and the other end was tied to a point several meters away. This worked on the principle that when someone walked by and tripped on the wire, it would then pull the grenade out of the tin. The clip would fly off and the grenade would then explode hopeful under the enemy or at least as near to them as possible. Michael made this trip twice; the second time he lugged out with him four very small cans of avgas, the fuel that is used by the choppers. It explodes and burns well when ignited by tracer bullet showering a wide area with burning fuel. So it was with this in mind that he tied them up as high as was possible in to the trees so that he could see them from his trench. Back in his trench and almost totally exhausted Michael loaded up his rifle magazines with tracer bullets. He knew that the next attack was going to be a big one it would also probably be the last because dawn was gradually approaching.
Michael lay back on the side of his trench trying to get some breath back into his lungs. At the same time he checked over his injuries, his ear was still bleeding but there was not much that he could do about it apart from wipe the blood away. He tied his sweat rag around the wound on his upper left arm but it was hurting like hell. He did not want to inject himself with morphine at this stage. With the next attack imminent he wanted to have all of his senses in tack his life was about to depend on them.
He started to drift into a world of thought wondering what the hell was he doing here. Thinking of the events that had lead him to this particular small hill in the centre of Vietnam.
He had arrived in Saigon along with a contingent of Australians as a member of their SAS team. It was the only way that the British government could get some of its forces on the ground into this theatre of war and to keep them informed of what was happening on the ground. While on the surface they where informing the world’s press and leaders that they did not want to get involved and that it was not their war. But Australia was involved; they had chosen to assist the Americans in their fight against the spread of communism in the Far East Asia area. Britain on the other hand while still insisting that they were a world power but wanted to keep their hands clean and their money in their pocket. But for their own security they also needed to know what was happening in that area. They did not trust other government’s versions of events. They had come up with the idea that if certain highly trained personnel were given Australian citizenship along with an Australian passport then it would not look like they were involved. It was a very easy way of injecting their own spies in to the area something they did very frequently. The one big thing that was to work in their favour was that a vast majority of the Australian servicemen at that time had English accents. Most of them being members of English emigrant families that had migrated there since the Second World War.
Michael had been stationed with the Americans in the central highlands helping to train the local Montagnard tribes men (Laotian). He had got to like the people and spent most of his time living amongst them and personally taking them out on raids against the Vietcong that were killing and burning their villagers. The camp had been organised and set up by the American CIA who Michael referred to as “Christians in Action”.
He had also taken part in reconnaissance missions in to North Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos on several occasions. These missions had been particularly hard as in most cases they had come up against a determined enemy. Someone who would fight for every inch of soil they could. Reconnaissance missions should usually take place with out a sound, the whole idea being that you see, but are not seen. But there were so many spies in the south that the north knew what you were up to before you even did it. It was for this reason that the Americans did not trust the local people. But the Montagnard people were different they hated the Vietnamese. They were jungle living tribes men that lived high in the mountains of central Vietnam away from the lowland Vietnamese who they did not trust. They had a hated against the North who were doing there utmost to kill off the whole of the Montagnard civilisation.
His peace was suddenly shattered by the sound of whistles, gongs and shouting coming from down the bottom of the hill.
“Here they come again,” One of the guys to the right of Michael shouted.
Judging by the sounds that were coming up the hill, Michael knew this time that they were deadly serious. This was to be the big one. It was a method that the Vietcong used to excite and to drive their forces on to a victory. Michael knew that if the last three attacks had been bad, well this one was going to be the grand finally. Michael shouted to his men that they were to conserve their ambition and to make every shot count.
Michael waited until the first wave of human fodder had climbed half way up the hill and were rushing by the first cans of avgas that he had secured to the side of tree. He had his rifle laid on the dirt in front of him and with one hand he took aim through the night sights and fired a tracer bullet in to the can. There was a large explosion followed by a huge shower of fire that lit up the entire area. The next minute he could see people running everywhere with their clothes and bodies all on fire. It seemed to be a signal for all hell to be let loose as the whole area just erupted into one big firefight. The Star shells were once again exploding high above giving everybody including the enemy plenty of light to fight by. Once again Michael was relying on his bombs and bobby traps it was much easier to turn a handle than to try and fire his rifle all the time with one arm. Although they were killing off the enemy in large numbers they were gradually gaining ground up the hill and getting ever closer to their position.
Before he knew it the enemy was right on top of them. Michael had been leaning on the back of the trench with his rifle at the hip in his right hand trying to make every bullet count. But suddenly the enemy was right there on top of the position now the rifle was no good to him as he threw it down in the trench he grabbed at his nine millimetre Browning pistol and started shooting once more. Michael knew that it was the end only luck was going to save them from this point on.
Part of Michaels training in the Royal Marines had been to learn of the history of other units in Her Majesties forces. One such unit had the name of the “Gloustershire Regiment” but had been given the nickname of the “Glorious Glousters” A name they had received after a particular incident that took place while they were serving in the Korean campaign back in the early fifties. They had dug themselves in to a hilltop pretty much like the situation that Michael now found himself. They also had been over run by the enemy so in shear desperation the commanding officer had ordered his own troops to lye in the bottom of their trenches. He then radioed back to headquarters their hill position and ordered them to bombard their position with high explosive rounds. This had been carried out killing most of the Koreans running up the hill, but to everybody’s amazement not one single guy from the Glousters had been killed by the shelling.
With this in mind, Michael had previously arranged with headquarters after giving them his position coordinates. That on a given signal they were to shell his position. That signal was to be two green flares that were to be fired high in to the night sky. They would be seen very clearly because the Army had an elaborate system of spotters in position when full-scale battles were taking place.
He could not see an end to the present attack they were overwhelming every position and it was looking like the end was near. Michael grabbed the fare gun from the dirt in front of his trench and fire the first shot high in to the air. It was a little bit of a fumble for him to reload and to place the second flare into the barrel of the gun. But when you are determined you can do anything. Bang the second green flare rocked sky wards. There was no need to warn his men of what awaited them they had all been told of the plan while they dug in the night before.
Michael threw himself in to the bottom of his trench but on his back. This was not the normal position to lie. Most people would be face down so that they could cover their head and face with their arms, while lying on their stomachs. But Michael was trying to think ahead just in case one of the enemy tied to jump in and share the protection of his trench once they realised what was happening to them. At least this way he could shoot them with his pistol as they dropped in on him. And this is exactly what happened as Michael lay there a very young Vietnamese suddenly appeared on top edge of his trench before the young guy had chance to realise that Michael was still alive. Michael fired to shots into him and he fell right on top of him. At that very same moment Michael heard the first high explosive shells coming in. There was no mistaking there sound it was like an extra fast bullet train rushing towards him. Then there was a terrific explosion followed bye another and another. It was at this time that Michael was more than pleased that the guy he had just shot had landed on him. He had turned into the best shield that he could have hoped for. The very next minute a second Vietnamese guy jumped in on top of Michael and his now dead human shield. Before the guy knew what hit him Michael stuck the pistol in his face and just pulled the trigger. Michael knew it was a cruel thing to do but in situations like this the niceties of life go out of the window. It’s a case of kill or be killed and no way was Michael intending on being one of the latter.
The bombardment seemed to go on for a long time with some of the explosions landing right beside of his trench. But after about five or six minutes it suddenly went very quiet, except from the hissing of a star shell swinging way above him. He could not believe his luck had he really survived that onslaught. He had to pinch himself just to believe that he was still alive. He could still not believe it as slowly he tried to wriggle his way from under the two dead guys lying on top of him. It took him several minutes as he was still in great pain from his injuries. As he very carefully stuck his head up from the trench to try and access the situation. He could not believe his eyes there was not a single soul walking around anywhere in sight of his position. He called out to his men and was pleasantly surprised to hear a few of them were still alive, but by the tone of their voices some were only just. His only hope now was that the enemy would call off the attack for good. Michael cast an eye around his trench and right now they were out of just about everything. If they were to be attacked a fifth time well then about all they would be able to do was throw rocks or spit at them. But Michael felt quite pleased in the thought that it was exactly what his men would do if they were called upon to under take this last drastic action. But he did notice that the two guys in his trench had weapons and grenades strapped to them. Michael called out once again telling those that could were alive to grab what they could from the enemy and that if need be they were to crawl out to retrieve for the dead that lay near by. But that they were to be careful some of them might only be playing at being dead. No way was Michael going to make it easy for those bastards if they were to launch another attack.
There was still an hour to go before dawn. But Michael could sense that he was slowly loosing his battle to stay conscious. If he were to pass out now he would not make it though to daybreak. Also if the Vietcong were to launch any further attacks he would not be able to defend himself. Not knowing who was still alive around him he could not rely on their help. As far as Michael was concerned he was the only one left and it was his job to hold the position at all costs.
In his semi delirious state of mind he closed his eye for what felt like just a few minutes, but in fact it was a lot longer. When finally he tried to open them once more it became a great strain for him. But slowly as they opened and he regained his focus. He felt relived to see what he hoped were the very first signs of the day breaking way off on the horizon to the east. With that welcome sight he could not stave off unconsciousness any longer and he drifted off in to a deep hazy sleep. It was to become a state of total recall as his whole life slowly passed in front of him.
It was the spring of 1969