Chasing Shadows

CHASING SHADOWS

  Terry Aspinall

  © Copyright 2004 by Terry Aspinall

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means – electronic, mechanical, photographic (photocopying) recording, or otherwise – without prior permission in writing from the author.

  ISBN : 9781311579690

  Published by Terry Aspinall

  This E-Book is available at most online retailers for more information please contact: mailto:[email protected]

  SHORT STORY

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations and incidents are the product of the author's imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locals or events is entirely coincidental.

  CONTENT

  Chapter One. Chasing Shadows.

  Chapter Two. Survival.

  Chapter Three. Man Missing.

  Chapter Four. Bruce Johnson.

  Chapter Five. Ambushed.

  Chapter Six. Crossing Borders.

  Chapter Seven. Saigon.

  About the Author.

  Other Books by this Author.

  Authors Website.

  www.terryaspinall.com

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHASING SHADOWS

  1968

  With a loud crack a star shell exploded high above in the night sky, bursting open in a shower of sparks that lit up the heavens and bathed the area in a brilliant white light. A small parachute assisted the lights slow descent back towards the ground. Its swinging action brought about by a light breeze, made for some ghostly shadows in the jungle below. The light was welcomed by those entrenched below, allowing them to hopefully identify friend from foe.

  Michael was lying in a shallow slit trench that he had hastily prepared for himself just a few hours earlier. Slowly he raised his body up on to his knees, as he peered very carefully over the top of the dirt barrier that he had thrown up while digging this temporary home. Staring out into the night he could see the shadows that the light was casting on the jungle. Make out ghostly figures moving from tree to tree just like shadows in the night, a term that Michael used on many an occasions. However, these shadows were not members of Michael's team, as they were on the other side of the barbed wire entanglements that lay sixty meters downhill in front of him. He was also aware that no members of the camp had been sent out on patrol that night. Therefore it was a foregone conclusion that they were Vietcong soldiers. Picking their way through the jungle to launch an attack against them. For the moment they were still out of range, but Michael knew it would only be a matter of time before all hell would be let loose upon them. After counting more than twenty of the shadows he gave up, accepting that this was a large force that they were up against, and it was going to be a long hard slog of a battle.

  In his estimation there was so many that a semi-automatic rifle was going to be of little use to him. It would not be able to keep up with the numbers that were about to be thrown at their defences. In a situation like this he knew that their only chance was to kill as many of the enemy as possible, using anti personnel mines or homemade bobby traps before they were able to get too close to their position.

  On the front side of his trench lay several small metal black boxes. Each had a small handle on its right hand side and a wire leading away from his position out to a strategic positions that lay in wait of the advancing enemy. These devices would detonate the explosive traps, mines and homemade bombs that had all been painstakingly set up only a few hours earlier.

  Seeing this large enemy force advancing towards him, he also knew the worst thing he could do now was to panic. To beat them he was going to have to keep calm and use a cool head. He would also need to rely on his comrades who were scattered around the top of this small hill, that they had been ordered to hold at all costs until the following morning. When it was hoped that reinforcements were due to arrive.

  However, they were thin on the ground, so thin in fact that instead of the usual two men per trench, tonight it would have to be just one. While the only communication between them would have to be the old well tried and tested human shout. The only way they were going to know who was dead, would be when no more shots were being fired from their position.

  The wait started to become unbearable, especially as Michael had already psyched himself up for what was about to happen. Knowing that his team would also be ready and prepared, as he had trained most of them personally to react just like he would. In this way he knew that he could trust and rely on them no matter what sort of situation they found themselves in. The covering of each other's back was essential if you wanted to serve under Michael.

  Michael waited until the first group of the enemy had started to penetrated the far perimeter barbed wire entrapment. Reaching forward he grabbed one of the little black boxes that he had previously numbered and hastily wound the handle on its side, and then pushed the button. That was the moment that all hell broke loose, as the battle commenced. It's out come at this stage was unknown. However, Michael knew that his small team would give their all, in order to hold the enemy at bay till day break. It was common knowledge that the enemy very rarely took prisoners in full on battles. This was to be a fight to the end by both sides.

  At the very same moment that one of Michael's landmines planted near the barbed wire exploded, high above another star shell exploded taking the place of the first that had by now been extinguished. The noise became deafening with the sound of explosions and semi automatic fire from both sides. The whole scene was one of explosions and tracer bullets winging through the night, of human cries for help and of stray ricocheting bullets glancing off anything that was solid.

  The sheer amount of enemy bullets coming Michael's way was enough for him to keep his head down for a few seconds. He knew that his explosion would have just wiped out a dozen or so enemy, but he also knew that there would now be another dozen arriving to take their place. Once again he raised his head to take a quick look at what was happening and to grab another little black box. Just as he had thought, they were still coming at him only this time he swore there were twice as many as before. He was pleased to see that the first explosion had killed the first batch of the advance party. However, his jubilation was short lived when he realised that the explosion had thrown some of their bodies into the air and on to the barbed wire entanglement. The flattened wire would make it easier for the next expected batch to gain entry into the parameter of the camp easily. Now all they had to do was cross the wire by walking on the bodies of their fallen comrades.

  Keeping his head down he gave the handle of the second box a steady turn and pushed its button. He saw the bright flash from the bottom of his trench, a split second later he heard the explosion.

  While Michael was exploding his land mines, other members of his team were also carrying out the same procedures around their side of the hill. Orders had been given that nobody was to move or to try and crawl to other positions. This way they knew that anybody out in the open was the enemy and fair game to be taken out. If you were hit then you had to stay where you were and stick it out till the morning.

  Suddenly it all went quiet and the only noise that could be heard was the hissing of another star shell swinging high above them. It had been fired from their main base camp nearly eight kilometers away. Somebody to Michael's right shouted that the enemy were re-grouping and they should expect a bigger attack to follow soon. Michael could also hear one of his team to his left crying in pain, knowing it to be Alan. He was the youngest member of the group who had only just arrived in the country a few weeks earlier.

  "Here they come again," shouted somebody over to the right. With that Mich
ael stuck his head up to see from which direction this second attack was coming from. After taking in the situation he grabbed a couple of his little black boxes and dragged them into the cover of the trench. He could swear that there were several hundred of them this time and they were already climbing the hill leading up to his trench.

  This time he detonated both of the mines simultaneously and once he thought that the dust had settled he raised his head, only to be greeted once again by what looked like hundreds of the enemy all trying to climb the hill and over the bodies of their dead comrades which lay before them. Now it was getting a little scary because they were getting ever closer and seemed to be increasing in number. They were also positioning some of their men, who he suspected to be snipers, behind the bodies of the first wave that had all been killed. As cover to pick off anybody who stuck their head up from their trench. Michael started to curse the light above although he realised that it was essential so he could see what was happening.

  He could not understand why they did not crawl towards their enemy. After all they were very good jungle fighters and highly obedient towards their officers. Whatever they were called upon to undertake, they would carry it out to the letter and with no questions asked. If they were only to stalk their prey quietly, unseen and undetected, instead of just blundering their way through the jungle in the full glare of the star shells. Then they would be an enemy that would be very hard to defeat in battle.

  The star shells were helpful for Michael and his team. However, it was realised that they would also assist the enemy, as they tried to pick their way through the maze of traps and obstacles that had been prepared and placed before them, in anticipation of their intended attack.

  The battle had been raging for a couple of hours and during all of that time Michael had not fired a shot, which said a lot for his courage. He was methodical in carrying out his orders. He knew that as long as the guys around him did not panic and did what was expected of them, there was a good chance that somehow they might just survive the night.

  Suddenly and almost as quickly as it had started, it was all over. Michael watched as those who had not been killed turned around and ran back towards the bottom of the hill. He also noted that there were far less retreating than had started up the hill, leaving behind heaps of bodies strewn around as far as the eye could see.

  Michael decided to break one of his own golden rules and crawl over to Alan who was still moaning in agony nearby. His cries of help was upsetting and Michael did not want it to unsettle other members of his team around him, who he believed had so far escaped injury. After shouting out to those close to him what he intended doing, Michael slid out of his trench. Keeping as low a profile as possible and sliding on his stomach he headed straight into Alan's trench, landing on top of him. Once again he cried out with the discomfort of Michael's arrival. In the dark eerie light Michael assessed that Alan had taken a piece of shrapnel in his right shoulder as the hole was not a clean flesh wound, but jagged. Michael tore off the first field dressing from the stock of Alan's rifle and after fluffing up the bandage into a wad, he stuffed it into the small hole just above Alan's breast. He then stuck a morphine needle into his upper leg and whispered to him to hold the bandage tight up against the wound. He then reassured him that he would be back to him later and that he stood a good chance of making it through the night. Although deep inside he really didn't know. It was an automatic response saying the first thing that came into his head, trying to comfort and keep his moral up.

  Not wanting to be caught out in no man's land Michael once again shouted to his friends before sliding back to the safety of his own hole. Making it just in time as the alarm went up informing everybody that the third round of attacks was about to get under way.

  Just like before, wave after wave of the enemy tried to storm the well-protected hill. Michael once again waited until the last minute, so that the enemy in front of him were within striking distance of his mines, before detonating the first two. Although by now he was starting to get a little worried. He knew that he had not many mines left to rely on. If there were to be further attacks then somehow he would have to set up some more. If the enemy kept this up all night they would eventually be over run and swamped by sheer weight of numbers. He laid his rifle and flare pistol on top of the dirt barricade in front of him. He checked that the nine-millimetre Browning pistol was still in its holster on his right hip. This time he did not want to be caught off guard and unprepared. If they reached his trench it was going to be full on with no holds barred.

  The bullets were flying thick and fast above Michael's head, and at times he could even feel the wind from them as they whistled very close. Just after he let off another mine he looked over the top to try and judge the situation. It was mayhem, there was bodies laying everywhere and a vast majority of them were moving around in agony from the wounds they had sustained. However, what amazed Michael was that most of them were suffering in total silence. In stark contrast to the few members of his team who had by now been hit. They were making more noise than all the enemy put together and there seemed to be hundreds of them. In a way Michael admired these little fighters for their sheer guts and courage. He had always been lead to believe that they were just ordinary peasants and farmers, but they certainly believed in fighting to the death to protect their country and of what they thought belonged to them. What also puzzled Michael was where did they all seem to come from. After all they had been fighting for many years and in all that time there had been many thousands of them killed. So where the hell did this lot come from who were attacking him right now.

  As Michael looked down the hill at the carnage that lay in front of him, he could see two distinct heaps of dead where each wave of attack had reached and been successfully stopped. However, they were definitely getting closer to his trench. He was just hoping that the attack that was now under way would not get any nearer to his position.

  The night sky was still being lit up by the constant supply of star shells bursting high above them. While on the ground the lights and flashes were made up of orange and red lights that came from the explosions going on around their position. This time Michael had to keep his head up most of the time in order to see the enemy and where they were. It was a good job that he did, as without warning the enemy were suddenly on top of him. One even came from behind which left Michael surprised and unaware that some of the positions behind him at the back of the hill had been over run. He grabbed his rifle and started swinging it around his head knocking two of the enemy to the ground, before he turned the rifle around and shot them both in the stomach. Suddenly he felt something whiz by his right ear but carried on fighting paying no attention to the pain. Within just a few minutes there were four enemy lying dead just in front of him on the dirt barrier in front of his trench. It was then that he felt what must have been blood running down the side of his neck. As he touched his ear he could feel that there was a small piece missing. A bullet or something had passed right through his ear tearing a small section away as it went. All he could do was wipe the area with the camouflaged sweat rag from around his neck. There was no time to do anything else, the enemy were still coming at his position. Just then he took a ricochet bullet to the top of his left arm, the shock and pain dropped him to his knees. Michael made a superhuman effort to get back up so he could see over the top of his trench, and grabbed his rifle so that he could carry on shooting. Luck was with him. At that very moment the enemy who had not been killed started to drop back. Michael was quick to realise that they had once again fought the enemy off and survived. However, he was not sure how many of his friends around him had been as lucky.

  After about fifteen minutes of silence it was plain that the enemy were regrouping once again. Michael checked on his situation and was aware that his ammunition was getting low. Thinking that most of his group would be in the same situation. He called out to his friends to try and establish how many of them were still alive. To his amazement most
of them managed to answer that they were okay, although some of them were wounded. Michael shouted to them again telling those that were able, to crawl out front of their positions to try and set up as many mines or homemade bombs as possible. Nobody was to fire during the next thirty minutes while all this was happening, unless Michael gave the order. He had to convince those that were still alive that they had to carry out his order to survive the night. Although Michael was by now in constant pain he knew that the job had to be done. After all it was the mines that had so far saved them from annihilation. He crawled out on his stomach for almost thirty meters from his trench where he set up six small antipersonnel mines amongst the dead bodies. Then he set up a few booby traps consisting of hand grenades with their pins removed that were placed into old bean tins. The clips were kept in place by the inside of the tins. The hardest thing for him was to find the trees where he had nailed the tins earlier in the day. The earlier explosions had destroyed some of them but there were sufficient to set up about eight. After placing the grenades into the tins, a fine trip wire was then tied to the grenades and the other end was tied to a point a few meters away. This worked on the principle that when someone walked into trip wire, it would then pull the grenade out of the tin. The clip would fly off and the grenade would then explode, hopefully next to the enemy or at least as near to them as possible to take them out of the game. A couple of times Michael even tied the trip wires to dead bodies.

  Michael made two trips, the second time he lugged out with him four very small cans of avgas, the fuel used by the choppers. It explodes and burns well when ignited by tracer bullets, showering a wide area with burning fuel. So it was with this in mind that he tied them up as high as was possible into the trees so that he could see them from his trench. Back in his trench and almost totally exhausted Michael loaded up one of his rifle magazines with tracer bullets. He knew that the next attack was going to be a big one, realising that each attack was stronger than the one before. It would also probably be the last because dawn was gradually approaching, and with it maybe a little ray of hope.

  Michael lay back on the side of his trench trying to get some air back into his lungs. At the same time he checked over his injuries, his ear was still bleeding but there was not much that he could do about it apart from wipe the blood away. He tied his sweat rag around the wound on his upper left arm that was hurting like hell. However, he did not want to inject himself with morphine at this stage. Believing that the next attack was imminent he wanted to have all of his senses in tack, as his life was about to depend on them.

  Suddenly the peace was shattered by the sound of whistles, gongs and shouting coming from the bottom of the hill.

  "Here they come again," one of the team to the right of Michael shouted.

  Judging by the sounds that were coming up the hill, this was definitely to be the big one. Michael knew that this time they were deadly serious, "The others must have been test runs," he chuckled to himself. It was a method that the enemy used to excite and to drive their forces on to a victory. Michael knew that if the last three attacks had been bad, this one was going to be the grand finale. He shouted to his men that they were to conserve their ammunition and to make every shot count. This time they had to prove to the enemy that they were totally wrong in their assumption that they were an easy target. "Come and get us," Michael shouted in defiance. Adding "You had better get the plastic body bags out, you will need a few thousand, because not many of you will be walking home."

  Michael waited until the first wave of human fodder had climbed half way up the hill and were rushing by the first cans of avgas. He had his rifle laid on the dirt in front of him and with one hand he took aim through the night sights and fired a tracer bullet into one of the cans. There was a large explosion followed by a huge shower of fire that lit up the entire area. The next minute he could see people running around with their clothes and bodies on fire. It seemed to be a signal for all hell to be let loose as the whole area erupted into one big fire fight. The star shells were once again exploding high above giving everybody, including the enemy, plenty of light to fight by. Once again Michael was relying on his bombs and booby traps, it was much easier to turn a handle than to try and fire his rifle with one arm.

  Although the enemy were being killed off at an alarming rate, they were gradually gaining ground up the hill and getting ever closer to their position. Then before he knew it the enemy were within a stone's throw of his trench. Michael had been leaning up against the back of his trench with his rifle at the hip in his right hand trying to make every shot count. The next minute they were right in front of him. Now the rifle was of no use. He threw it down in the trench, grabbed at his Browning pistol and started shooting once more at close quarters. He knew that from now on only lady luck could save them.

  He could not see an end to the present attack. The enemy were over running every position and it was looking like the end was near. Michael grabbed the flare gun from the front of his trench and fired the first shot high into the air. It was a little bit of a fumble for him to reload and to place the second flare into the barrel of the gun. However, when you are determined, you can do amazing things. Bang! The second green flare rocketed sky wards. There was no need to warn his men of what awaited them. As they had all been pre-warned of the plan earlier as they dug their temporary homes.

  Michael threw himself into the bottom of his trench but on his back. This was not the normal position to lie. Most people would be face down so that they could cover their head and face with their arms, whilst lying on their stomachs. Michael was trying to think ahead just in case one of the enemy tried to jump in and share the protection of his trench. Once they realised what was about to happen to them. At least this way he could shoot them with his pistol as they dropped in on him. He then awaited a barrage of high explosive shells to rain down on them. As he had earlier instructed their base camp to undertake upon their sighting of two green flares.

  As Michael lay there one of the enemy suddenly appeared on the top edge of his trench. Before he had chance to realise that Michael was still alive, Michael fired two shots into him and the man fell right on top of him. At the same moment he heard the first high explosive shells as they came towards their position. There was no mistaking their sound, it being like a high pitch whistle rushing towards their position. Then there was a terrific explosion followed by another and another. Now Michael was more than pleased that the guy he had just shot had landed on him. He had turned into the best shield that Michael could have hoped for. The very next minute a second enemy jumped in on top of Michael and his now dead human shield. Before the enemy knew what hit him, Michael stuck the pistol in his face and just pulled the trigger. Michael knew it was a cruel thing to do but in situations like this the niceties of life go out of the window. It was a case of kill or be killed and no way was Michael intending on being one of the latter.

  The bombardment seemed to go on for a long time with some of the explosions landing right beside his own trench. After about four or five minutes it suddenly went very quiet, except for the hissing of another star shell swinging gently way above him. He could not believe his luck. Surprisingly he had he survived the onslaught of a friendly bombardment and the close enemy fire. He had to pinch himself just to believe that he was still alive.

  Slowly he tried to wriggle his way from under the two dead bodies lying on top of him. It took him several minutes as he was still in great pain from his own injuries. Carefully he stuck his head up from the trench to try and access the situation.

  He could not believe his eyes. There was not a single soul walking around anywhere in sight of his position. He called out to his men and was pleasantly surprised to hear a few of them were still alive but by the tone of their voices, some only just. His only hope now was that the enemy would call off the attack for good.

  Michael cast an eye around his trench and saw that they were out of just about everything. If they were to be attacked a fifth time, t
hen about all they would be able to do was throw rocks at the enemy or spit at them. Michael felt quite pleased as he thought that it was exactly what his men would do if they were called upon to undertake this last drastic action. He did notice that the two guys in his trench had weapons and grenades strapped to them. Michael called out once again telling those that were alive to grab what they could from the enemy and that if need be they were to crawl out to retrieve weapons from the dead who lay nearby. He urged caution as some of them might only be playing at being dead. No way was Michael going to make it easy for these bastards if they were to launch another attack.

  There was still an hour to go before dawn. However, Michael could sense that he was slowly losing his battle to stay conscious. If he were to pass out now he would not make it through to daybreak, and if the enemy were to launch any further attacks he would not be able to defend himself. Not knowing who was still alive around him, he could not rely on their help. As far as Michael was concerned he was the only one left and it was his job to hold the position at all costs.

  In his semi delirious state of mind he closed his eyes for what felt like a few seconds, but in reality it was for several minutes. When eventually he managed to re-open them and regained his focus. He felt relieved to see what he hoped were the very first signs of the early morning sun starting to poke its head up on the horizon to the east.

  Suddenly a jet fighter could be heard passing over head, and the radio operator further up the hill behind him shouted to Michael, asking if he required the jet to strafe the area at the bottom of the hill. Although there did not seem to be any movement in that area. He was not sure if they had withdrawn from their position with the appearance of the day break.

  Michael was not going to take any chances. Realising that the hill had been badly mauled and was probably in a bad shape. He ordered the plane to drop a couple of tanks of napalm on the bottom of the hill. Within a few minutes the sound of the jet making a low level run over the area was deafening. To be superseded by one final massive explosion as the whole of the bottom of the hill suddenly erupted into a massive ball of flame. To be followed by several small ones as ammunition belonging to the enemy detonated within the flames, that went on for quite some time.

  Later and to his relief the thump thump thump sound from the blades of an approaching helicopter could be heard in the distance, and for the first time Michael had a sense of feeling that help was well and truly on its way. With luck there would be reinforcements, help for the wounded, and that his complete team might be flown out. As far as Michael was concerned all the members of the team would be leaving together.