Into Cambodia - Keith Nolan [83]
Launched from Quan Loi, the Cobras and Loaches from the 11th ACR Air Cavalry Troop were presently over Snoul and also reported 12.7mm AAA fire from dugouts along the sod airstrip. The NVA appeared to be finally stopping to fight.
“This is a reconnaissance-in-force to find out what's in there and also, if possible, to take the town–without destroying it,” continued Brookshire. “I just want everybody up tight–weapons and flak jackets, steel helmets on. And when you take fire–shoot. Try to avoid shooting into crowds of civilians. In other words, if you're taking light fire and there are civilians in the area, try to return the fire without losing all the fucking civilians.”
“That's why I'm worried about going through that village.”
“Look, if we've made contact by then, I'll probably have different instructions.”
Sheridans and ACAVs rumbled past on the road as Brookshire continued: “Now, if we can get around these fuckers, we may have them bottled up down in this end of the rubber because they're probably expecting us to come right up Highway One [he meant Route 7]. The village people down here say they have broken the highway somewhere between here and there and they undoubtedly have. We'll try to find a way around it. We can always shove up through the rubber and come up this side of the draw. If we have to start knockin' down rubber trees, they go down easy.”
Workers from the Snoul plantation streamed south on Route 7 with their families. The Kit Carson Scouts of the 11th ACR sipped the fresh coconut milk that some of the refugees offered as they asked their questions. An officer then briefed the assembled commanders: “The villagers around here are hiding 'cause they're afraid of the VC and they're afraid of the battle that's gonna take place. They say there's between a thousand and two thousand civilians in the town of Snoul. About a thousand to three thousand NVA-slash-VC.”
“You said a thousand to two thousand civilians?”
“Right. Had been living there. They haven't been in the ville itself for quite a while. Not since all the movement started. The people I talked to here haven't been to Snoul so they don't know what's happening to the people up there. The only people they've seen personally was yesterday afternoon, they saw about fourteen VC flying up the road.…”
The 2d Squadron of the Blackhorse was right on the NVA. They spent two hours along the shoulder of the highway getting organized, a process that included a fire support conference that Colonel Starry had with a brigadier general and a sergeant major from II Field Force. Sergeant Major Horn sized up the brigadier as soft, out of place; his sergeant stood at ramrod attention in immaculate and crisply starched fatigues, wearing ferociously shined jump boots in lieu of jungle boots. Horn suddenly realized that he was looking them over. The sergeant from II Field Force frowned in disapproval of the grunts' unmilitarily rumpled appearance. He made no attempt to say anything to anybody, and Horn had nothing to say to his fellow sergeant major: spit-shined bastard.
Such were the snappish temperaments of men heading into battle. The NCOs inspected their vehicles with a curt word for anything not in order. This was it. The column returned to march order, with H Company leading off, followed closely by the command section, which included Colonel Starry and Sergeant Major Horn aboard one ACAV, Lieutenant Colonel Brookshire and Master Sergeant Bolan aboard another, and a platoon from G Troop under Lieutenant Crupper for security. E and G Troops followed. At the southern rim of Snoul, where the map indicated more rubber trees, aerial recon revealed that the trees had been cut down as part of plantation cultivation. At that point, Brookshire radioed Captain Sisson, who was nestled in a chair fixed atop his tank turret, to swing H Company off the highway.
Sergeant Hackbarth was braced behind the .50-caliber machine gun of the lead tank, and when they made the left turn onto a gravel trail he was suddenly facing a 12.7mm machine gun twenty