War and History Fiction posted October 12, 2016


Exceptional
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Sacrifice for the greater good.

The Ultimate Sacrifice

by DonandVicki


The author has placed a warning on this post for violence.

"Just pick up the pieces," Staff Sargent Sherman said as he turned his head away from the grizzly sight, "let's get'um loaded in the chopper."

As I looked down at the spectacle in front of me, I was fascinated by the sight. The human body doesn't come apart in neat little peices when torn up by high explosives. Mostly you have large parts, like the upper and lower torso, and a lot of blood and organs...,"guts" if you want to be crude, believe me, you do not have the desire to be crude at a time like this.

The Huey gunships were coming in low and fast over the rice paddies, causing a lot of turbulence in the water. The loud whoop, whoop, whoop of the rotorblades beat the air and water underneath the aircraft as they sat down on the high ground.

About an hour earlier we were under fire from the V.C near a small village near Khe Sanh. Our squad was spread out over about a 100 foot area as we approached a large coconut palm plantation. One side of the plantation had about a dozen huts, and we were told to approach with caution, the Vietcong were known to be using this area.

I heard a crackle on the squad radio as the sarge called in an air strike on the zone. He repeated the coordinates as he wanted to get it right. We waited about 20 minutes and we heard the F-4 Phantoms coming in hot from the west. They came in so low you could read the letters on the side of the aircraft, 'VF 96 USS Constellation'. Geesus! What a sight. We hunkered low in the ricepaddy, some boys laying in the mud, when all of a sudden a deafening Whummph...whummph, whummph...whummph. The earth quaked as we pressed our hands over our ears, the barrage continued. Whummph, whummph....
Rocks, mud, dirt and vegetation rained down on top of us, as the Phantom's roar faded in the east. The air was filled with the black, acrid smell of the scorched earth and high explosives.

The squad radio crackled again as the Sargent spoke, "let's move out while we still have the smoke for cover."

My heart was still racing from all of the adrenaline pulsing through my body. My temples were pounding and my ears still ringing from the bomb blasts. I got up and scraped the thick mud off my knees, I held my M1 carbine high as I almost lost my balance in the thick sludge. With every step my boots sunk in the muck, pulling them out made a sucking sound, shmuck...shmuck... no shit, I thought.

"Let's get up on the bank, Sarge," I yelled, "we are slow, fat, sitting ducks out here."

As we reached the high ground, we started to move faster but we had to spread out and move single file, the bank was narrow.

"Watch for trip wires, "the Sargent yelled back, "Rick, you and Blausey get your asses up here and take point."

I moved as quickly as I could to where Rick was waiting for me near the front of the squad.

"I want you to take two men and go to the hut on the far left, and Rick, you take two men to the far right, near the palms. I will bring the rest of the squad up the middle, ...do it now."

I grabbed the two closest men and we stayed low in the brush, we moved in sync with the rest of the unit so we would all arive at the same time. As we approached the back side of the hut we heard a loud pop,pop, pop...pop, we all hit the ground. This was not an M-1 carbine, more like the sound of a Russian AK-47. All hell broke loose, M-1's, AK-47's, and at least one M-50 staccato-like burst, Pop, pop, crack...crack, snap.
I couldn't see a target, so I un-strapped an incendiary grenade, showed it to my two partners, and I lobbed it inside the hut. We got up and ran like hell.
Whoooof, the hut erupted in flames. What seemed like an eternity, but was only several moments later, the fight was over.

Several V.C. came out of the remaining huts and approached us, half naked with their hands held high. One had a white T-shirt in his left hand waving it in the air. They were wearing only black shorts and thongs for footwear. They were terrified and unarmed.

"Blausey, get over here and watch these prisoners while I call in some gunships so we can get the hell out'ta here." The sarge said as he waved me over," Keep your distance as these gooks could be wired."

All of a sudden, a V.C. came running out of a far bunker screaming, carrying what appeared to be a package.

Someone yelled, "Satchel charge!"

We all opened up on this one poor bastard. Crack...crack...crack....

He had ran about 50 feet and as he crumpled to the ground he launched the satchel charge right at us. It landed almost at my feet. I didn't have time to think.

"Satchel ch..."

I dove without thinking, knowing that many of us were doomed, and landed on top, covering the charge with my body. The very last thing I remembered was my body being lifted high in the air, almost like flying...

Now as I look down, I see many of my buddies putting the parts of me in a tarp, loading me on a huey. At last, I was going home.

"Pick every Damn last piece of him up, that man just saved your life."




What Happened? writing prompt entry
Writing Prompt
Write a story that starts with: "Just pick up the pieces..."

Recognized


Just close your eyes
And imagine with me
What this world would feel like
If it were hateless, and war free?

Fewer mother's would weep
No scores to keep, no bodies to reap.
Generals and Admirals out of jobs
Fewer father's holding back sobs.

Yes I served in Vietnam..., no, I was not blown apart.

I wanted to get a perspective of an OBE, out of body experience, in a war zone. I may continue this with the OBE at his funeral, and let us see the pain in his mother's and father's eye's and souls.
Pays one point and 2 member cents.


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