Son Province, Dai Viet
The roar of the monsoon rain blocked out all the noise of the jungle, the strong winds whipped through the trees as the crash of thunder lit up the sky. It had been raining for days, the constant buckets of water causing thousands of creeks to appear on the mountainsides, filling the riverbeds to their bursting points. As the sound of the rain made way for yet another lightning strike, a rumbling could be heard coming up the mountain. The whine of four IFVs became louder and louder as they struggled to climb the waterlogged road that twisted up towards a village that was nestled in between two peaks of the Dai Mau Tsu Mountain: The Great Mother.
As the vehicles crept closer and closer, eyes peered out from between the foliage of the trees, gun sights aimed at the wet soldiers standing in the open hatches. The storm clouds, already blocking out most of the sun, kept what would otherwise have been a beautiful sunset from sight, and instead darkness fell gradually over the men. The vehicles continued into the village, which seemed deserted, all who lived there having had gone inside to avoid the rain. A command vehicle pulled into the village square and out of it stepped Lieutenant Trang Hai Phoung, CO of Charlie platoon, 52nd Rifle Coy. The lieutenant stood, soaking wet, for several minutes until a door opened. Out stepped an older man who shuffled towards him, covering his head from the downpour with an old plastic sheet.
“Can I help you, sir?”
The lieutenant frowned at the mans tone
“Get everyone out here. We are looking for the rebels that attacked a convoy last night. We are going to search this village. Anyone left inside will be shot.”
“Sir, we are simple villagers, there are no rebels here.”
Phoung pulled out his handgun
“Now, old man.”
The village elder shrugged, and started shuffling back towards his home, calling for his wife. It took several minutes but after a short while 46 people were standing in line, their clothes already soaked. It was a pathetic group of old men and women, children and the occasional mother. No men were there to be seen.
“Where are all the men?” The lieutenant shouted
“They are in the fields working, sir.”
“Bullshit! In this weather?”
“Rain or sunshine, we still have to eat, sir.”
His patience was gone. A child started to cry. He hated crying children. He lifted his gun and pointed it at the nearest woman. Seeing the signal, the rest of the soldiers jumped out of their vehicles and joined their boss, aiming their assault rifles at the villagers.
“I have been in the rain all day, and have nothing to show for it, old man. You tell me where the men are. I hope you realise what the alternative is.” He pressed the tip of the gun onto the woman’s forehead. Tears started falling from her eyes.
“Please, sir, I told you, there are no men here.”
The lieutenant didn’t flinch as he pulled the trigger, the woman falling, broken, into the mud. As the other villagers started to scream and cry, he thought to himself that it was one less dirty Son bitch to worry about. That was the last thought he had.
Guns erupted from the jungle and houses surrounding them, and a hail of bullets flew towards the soldiers. Within seconds over a dozen had been killed. As the squad commanders tried to rally their men, they realised that it was all over. The men jumped into their vehicles, and the cannon opened up into the trees. Eight AT guns exploded adding to the mayhem, striking the four IFVs in their weaker rear armour. 4 smouldering heaps of scrap metal were all that was left, and all that could be heard was the rain and the soft cries of the villagers. The lieutenant lay sprawled across the dirt, his brain seeping into the mud.
The roar of the monsoon rain blocked out all the noise of the jungle, the strong winds whipped through the trees as the crash of thunder lit up the sky. It had been raining for days, the constant buckets of water causing thousands of creeks to appear on the mountainsides, filling the riverbeds to their bursting points. As the sound of the rain made way for yet another lightning strike, a rumbling could be heard coming up the mountain. The whine of four IFVs became louder and louder as they struggled to climb the waterlogged road that twisted up towards a village that was nestled in between two peaks of the Dai Mau Tsu Mountain: The Great Mother.
As the vehicles crept closer and closer, eyes peered out from between the foliage of the trees, gun sights aimed at the wet soldiers standing in the open hatches. The storm clouds, already blocking out most of the sun, kept what would otherwise have been a beautiful sunset from sight, and instead darkness fell gradually over the men. The vehicles continued into the village, which seemed deserted, all who lived there having had gone inside to avoid the rain. A command vehicle pulled into the village square and out of it stepped Lieutenant Trang Hai Phoung, CO of Charlie platoon, 52nd Rifle Coy. The lieutenant stood, soaking wet, for several minutes until a door opened. Out stepped an older man who shuffled towards him, covering his head from the downpour with an old plastic sheet.
“Can I help you, sir?”
The lieutenant frowned at the mans tone
“Get everyone out here. We are looking for the rebels that attacked a convoy last night. We are going to search this village. Anyone left inside will be shot.”
“Sir, we are simple villagers, there are no rebels here.”
Phoung pulled out his handgun
“Now, old man.”
The village elder shrugged, and started shuffling back towards his home, calling for his wife. It took several minutes but after a short while 46 people were standing in line, their clothes already soaked. It was a pathetic group of old men and women, children and the occasional mother. No men were there to be seen.
“Where are all the men?” The lieutenant shouted
“They are in the fields working, sir.”
“Bullshit! In this weather?”
“Rain or sunshine, we still have to eat, sir.”
His patience was gone. A child started to cry. He hated crying children. He lifted his gun and pointed it at the nearest woman. Seeing the signal, the rest of the soldiers jumped out of their vehicles and joined their boss, aiming their assault rifles at the villagers.
“I have been in the rain all day, and have nothing to show for it, old man. You tell me where the men are. I hope you realise what the alternative is.” He pressed the tip of the gun onto the woman’s forehead. Tears started falling from her eyes.
“Please, sir, I told you, there are no men here.”
The lieutenant didn’t flinch as he pulled the trigger, the woman falling, broken, into the mud. As the other villagers started to scream and cry, he thought to himself that it was one less dirty Son bitch to worry about. That was the last thought he had.
Guns erupted from the jungle and houses surrounding them, and a hail of bullets flew towards the soldiers. Within seconds over a dozen had been killed. As the squad commanders tried to rally their men, they realised that it was all over. The men jumped into their vehicles, and the cannon opened up into the trees. Eight AT guns exploded adding to the mayhem, striking the four IFVs in their weaker rear armour. 4 smouldering heaps of scrap metal were all that was left, and all that could be heard was the rain and the soft cries of the villagers. The lieutenant lay sprawled across the dirt, his brain seeping into the mud.