Into Cambodia - Keith Nolan [204]
The North Vietnamese did not mass, but as this and similar incidents showed, they were always out there. Captain Kuter finally wrote to his wife:
One thing that has bothered me and is now being confirmed about the local people is that they are terrifically afraid of our presence here. Now for the last two days they have been panic stricken and are preparing to move–but they don't know where to go. They have several fears–first, that their village will be caught in the middle in a fight between the NVA and us and this is a well-founded fear, for if Myron is ever attacked, it would probably be through the direction of the village for the NVA know that we are very reluctant to fire in that direction. Already we have had several episodes of incoming mortar rounds and these have come from the direction of the village, for the NVA set up there tubes there knowing we won't fire back. However, if the attack on us ever became heavy, we would undoubtedly fire back with our artillery, which would level the village. Their second problem is that we have destroyed almost all their farming areas and they are unable to work in the fields they have left because of the strafing done by our helicopters and the ambushes we have set up on trails in the area. The third fear is that when we leave the NVA will punish them for fraternizing with us. So these people are just caught in the middle, not benefiting at all from either side and being put greatly in hardship by the transformation of their area into a battlefield. For their sake it will be good when we leave.
One night when Colonel Beckner was still in command of the 5th of the 12th Warriors and they were still at FSB Brown, with B and E Companies on the berm line, the first of the seasonal monsoons came howling down on them. The night was black as pitch, the rain came down in buckets, and Brown, which was situated on what had been a desiccated lakebed, began to go underwater. The Echo Company GIs were trying to keep their mortar rounds and powder bags above the water line when Captain Lodoen ducked for a moment into his culvert-and-sandbag command post. The radio was buzzing: A platoon from Bravo Company, conducting a night ambush a thousand meters off the firebase, had come under heavy fire and was literally screaming for help. Lodoen plodded over to where the twelve men of his two sniper teams were huddled under ponchos. He called through the rain to the team leader, who had also been monitoring the radio, “If I can go out and help these kids, you're going with me!”
The sergeant, who was black and no older than twenty, shouted back, “No problem! I'll kinda get things ready!”
Rain-soaked and plastered with mud up to his knees, Captain Lodoen went down the PSP ramp into the underground battalion command bunker. The place was a mess. The TOC had originally been dug out with a bulldozer when Brown was all hard-packed earth, with PSP as a floor and roof with sandbags layered on top. Ponchos served as a door, and