By James Guy

This story is copyrighted by the author James Guy and may not be reproduced without permission of the author.

The sunlight penetrated the dense tree canopy in many places. Narrow beams of light lighted the trail while Francis moved in the shadows. The only sound he could hear was the loud drum of blood pounding in his head and the rapid beating of his heart.

He had taken off his jungle boots some time ago and now wore the calf-high Indian style moccasins that he carried in his rucksack. They left no tell tale tread marks in the ground that could be fatal. Jungle boot tread would be a dead give-away that an American had traveled this way. Dead being a key word.

He had buried his helmet and only wore the floppy bush hat slung behind him and a camouflage headband. His worn tiger stripe fatigues had seen better days but they blended into the foliage better.

He carried an M-16, a .45 caliber automatic pistol, survival knife, tomahawk, a L.A.W. and a rucksack containing One hundred clips of ammo. Each clip carried twenty rounds for the M-16. Most of his other equipment was in the same hole as his helmet. He traveled as light as possible, but well armed, as he needed to travel fast. The only other thing he carried were two full canteens of clean water and some water purification tablets.

Francis’ base camp was forty miles west of his present location. He was deep in Indian country, as the enemy territory was known, surrounded by the bad guys a.k.a. Viet Cong. Before the fire fight that left the rest of his twenty-man patrol dead, they had estimated 2 regiments of NVA regulars in the valley.

The firefight had lasted four days before Francis found himself the only one still alive. The patrol had taken AK-47 fire, two hundred mortar rounds and five mass charges. Francis guessed they had killed at least four hundred of the enemy. Some of that in hand to hand combat.

Night had fallen when Francis realized the truth of his situation. He had crawled to an area of heavy brush and waited to die. Surprisingly there was no attack. He had heard the enemy moving around retrieving their dead. In the confusion, he buried his gear, grabbed an enemy dead and carried him to where the enemy was putting the bodies. He then faded into the darkness and moved away from the battle zone.

Four hours later he was on this trail, heading north. Carefully watching in four directions at once, he came to a clearing and immediately went to ground in some bushes off the trail. He had heard low sounds of Vietnamese talking. He peered through the foliage and saw forty to fifty enemy soldiers getting ready to move south. He made himself invisible as the enemy walked by within 3 feet of his location. Ten minutes later, he left his hide out and circumvented the clearing. Three miles further he found a trail heading west.

The trail was not as well protected as the previous trail, but it would have to do. It meandered past villages and rice paddies. Francis decided to travel at night while on this trail and it took him four days to reach the mountains only twenty miles away. He climbed the mountain range for two days until he reached the crest.

From his vantagepoint he could see the valley below. Some twenty miles away was the South China Sea. Once on the coast he could travel south and get to Quin Nhon and safety.

Francis decided to go south following the mountain summit until he was more in a direct line toward the American base. He hadn’t eaten much in all this time and his rations were nil. He could not risk a fire so hunting was out. His water supply was dangerously low and it was hot, august was like that hot and humid. He would need to find a water supply and use his purification tablets.

Francis came around a bend in the trail and ran smack into an enemy soldier. They collided and both went for weapons. The enemy raised his AK-47, but Francis had already thrown his tomahawk. It split the enemy soldier’s head like a ripe watermelon.

Francis retrieved his weapon and then made a quick survey of the area. He then checked the body for anything useful. He took the AK-47, ammo and some papers. He also took the sandals from the slain enemy. He also found two surprises. One was a small pouch with rice balls and the other was a case with a lot of piasters (Vietnamese money). He buried the body under some bushes and using a branch from the bush wiped out all signs of the encounter. He put on the sandals and then traveled two miles before he left the trail and found a secure place to rest. The rice was quickly devoured. He felt that wearing the sandals would be less conspicuous to the enemy than his moccasins and less wear on his only foot wear.

That night he saw the lights from Phu Cat airbase to the southwest. He left the mountains and headed due west toward Bong Son and LZ English which he guesstimated would be in his line of travel. He dodged three enemy patrols and even four American patrols. He didn’t want to join an American patrol, as they would be moving away from the place that he wanted to be. One of the patrols passed within five feet of him. The men were dead and did not even know it. In his mind, Francis thought, \these guys are didi bopping through the bush and on the way to hell."\ He had smelled the pot smoking a mile away.

The next night he came upon LZ English. From signs he saw, he knew that they were about to be attacked and in fact, as he maneuvered his way south, he could hear the battle begin. He traveled as fast as he could and ran into Highway 1. This would lead straight to Qui Nhon.

He was extremely tired and decided that the best time to reach Quin Nhon was in the daytime. Nighttime was the enemy’s time. He found some trees that looked like would give him a resting-place. Taking off the sandals and wearing only the moccasins, he scaled the bushiest tree and tied himself to the tree some forty feet above the ground. He quickly fell asleep only to awaken two hours later. Instantly alert, he heard several voices speaking Vietnamese. He looked down. In the clearing below was a twenty-man unit of the enemy. He could see several men and women in black pajamas and three men wearing pith helmets with red stars. Another man approached the center of the group and Francis almost fell out of the tree. He thought the man was an American soldier until he heard the man speak. The man was speaking Russian to one of the soldiers in a pith helmet. The Russian pulled out a piece of paper and was showing it to the man in the pith helmet. Only NVA regulars wore pith helmets.

The group moved out, all except the Russian. He settled down and pulled out a cigarette. An hour later he was asleep. Francis lowered himself from the tree and came up behind the Russian. With his knife and a quick slash, the Russian was smiling with his throat. Francis quickly searched the man’s pockets and took everything he could find; the maps, identification, red beret, cigarettes and lighter. He also liberated the pistol belt, pistol and wristwatch. Francis then propped the man against the tree and left. But not before he left a small item stuck in the tree above the man. Stuck in the tree with the man’s survival knife was an ace of spades.

Putting on the sandals again, Francis moved away from the highway about four miles. He found a stream and entered it. Five miles south he left the stream sans sandals.

Dawn was breaking and he discovered he was near check point Charlie, which was manned by the ROK tiger division. Since the ROKs were known to shoot first and ask questions later, he waited until he saw an American vehicle coming down the road. About Nine A.M. a blue Air Force Dodge power wagon was heading toward Quin Nhon. he flagged the truck down and fifteen M-16s were pointed at him. He quickly explained to the driver his situation and was allowed to get in the back of the truck. He sat near the cab.

Arriving at Quin Nhon air base, the truck drove directly to the army headquarters. The driver dismounted and entered the H.Q. Explaining to the security guards that he need to speak to the base commander on a matter of the utmost importance. A major came out and after a quick discussion he was ushered into the commander’s office. Five minutes later the commander, a full colonel, the driver and the major approached the truck.

Francis dismounted from the truck and saluted the officers. He reported in as a good soldier did and handed the papers to the major. The major’s eyes widened as he looked at the papers. He spoke to the colonel and then left. Francis thanked the men of the 1883 Communications Squadron who had given him the lift and then entered the headquarters with the colonel.

A call was made to Francis’ unit by the colonel. His patrol had been found and Francis was considered missing in action. Francis had been missing three weeks and his family had already been notified of his status. The colonel took Francis to his office and made a quick phone call. Using his authority, he put a call thru Ton Son Nhut overseas switchboard, Fuchu overseas, Hickham overseas and finally to Francis’ home. It was early morning when his brother answered the phone. At first his brother thought it was a prank call until Francis got on the phone. Then he heard his brother running thru the house shouting that Francis was alive and on the phone.

An hour later, Francis was ushered into the officers club by the colonel and the major. Wearing clean tiger stripe fatigues but still wearing the moccasins, Francis sat down and ate a hearty meal of steak, eggs, hash browns and 4 glasses of milk, half regular and half chocolate. He also got more than a few stares by junior grade officers who saw the rank insignia on Francis’ collar. At one point both officers left the table. A second lieutenant with brand new jungle fatigues came up and challenged him for being out of uniform (the moccasins) and being in the O club. Francis ignored him. The lieutenant called the military police who arrived promptly to escort the enlisted man to the brig. At that moment the colonel, the major and another officer arrived. The lieutenant stammered that the private was out of uniform and not allowed in the o club. The third officer quietly informed the junior officer that Francis was a guest of the base commander. He had also been promoted to Second Lieutenant field grade commission and that the officers’ three stars outranked the other officers one gold bar. The errant lieutenant was then escorted out of the o club by the M.P.s. he was taken to his quarters and given thirty minutes to pack for his new assignment. He would be the army liaison with the marines at Khe San

Francis was flown to his unit by helicopter to get his gear as he was being transferred to his new assignment. After a two-week leave in the states, Francis reported to his new duty station. The Pentagon. Francis was advised that his patrol’s gestimate was wrong. There were in fact two NVA regiments that they had found and four regiments in the area where Francis killed the Russian. The papers outlined an attack by all VC and ten NVA regiments all over the south to celebrate the 1968 Tet in three weeks. Hell was about to break open, but for Francis, the war was over.