Into Cambodia - Keith Nolan [156]
The NVA were gone.
Then the troop entering the hamlet was taken under AK47 and RPG fire from a hootch. The NVA, probably a lost squad or delaying party, departed sight unseen as the tracks hosed down the area.
Frustrated that the NVA light infantrymen were twice able to break contact and melt away in the absence of a blocking force, Knotts was also disturbed that he had not heard a single 152mm fired during either contact, even though a few cannister rounds in the bamboo would have opened huge gaps in the thick vegetation and maybe exposed those running NVA not blown to bits. The problem again was the Sheridan. The main gun rounds were squat, heavy, cumbersome, and stored inside turrets with dust, rain, high humidity, and constant vibration; they were often unresponsive to the electrical probes that fired them. In short, the Sheridan's main gun often would not fire, and an electrical adapter that was supposed to reduce the number of misfires had not yet been issued to the squadron.2
Misfires or not, in the absence of resistance, C Troop was able to advance to the edge of the Krek plantation airfield before schedule. Stopping for lunch, Captain Schulcz listened to a radio conversation between squadron and corps. It seemed that the CG, II FFV, wanted to visit the 3-4 Cav CP at Thien Ngon. Squadron directed the general to the airstrip, and Schulcz monitored the helicopter's report that they had the field in sight and were coming in to land. Just then he noticed two helos bearing into his own position. On the front of one Huey was the II FFV flash. There he was: Lieutenant General Davison emerged onto the Krek grass airstrip that his pilots–well off the mark–had mistaken for the one at Thien Ngon. Schulcz grabbed his map and, feeling like the good captain, gave his report to Davison, who, like a good general, sat down for a C-ration lunch with Charlie Troop and fielded questions from a reporter who'd hitchhiked aboard one of the tracks.
Actually, the attention of a three-star general was flattering. After Davison departed, C Troop laagered one or two klicks west of the Krek plantation grounds. As dusk came, Captain Schulcz sat atop his APC to one side of a trail with Lieutenant Riley, his forward observer, comparing the maps they had carefully marked as they'd advanced. They plotted their defcons–defensive concentrations of artillery fire in case of night attack–and called for a marking round to make sure everything was locked down between themselves and the artillery.
They saw no explosion.
Schulcz and Riley requested another marking round, but saw nothing except for an airborne puff of smoke 3,000 meters away.
They asked for a repeat and a countdown for splash from the artillery-men. Right on time but 3,000 meters off target, another smoke shell exploded in the same area above the jungle.
Schulcz asked them to recheck the data on their guns, and they juggled around on the radio. “You can't be there.” “Oh yes we are, we've checked it, we've plotted it, we know we're correct.” Schulcz and Riley had to adjust the fire back to their position either because the artillery was having trouble reading their maps or because those they had were grossly inadequate, once again leaving Schulcz with the impression that the Electric Strawberry was operating with a screw loose somewhere. He remembered as a cadet at West Point being assembled in bleachers at the Engineer School; a Mohawk had flashed past taking photographs and the instructor had spoken of the capabilities of aerial photography, saying that new maps could be readied within hours of the plane landing with its film. Now, in planning for the incursion, no one had thought of the accuracy of their maps–which were often not updated from the French days–and Schulcz found himself thinking: Where is all that great technology when we need it?
The next morning, C Troop saddled up to move into blocking positions for the next phase of the operation–the search for COSVN–but almost as soon as they moved out,