Free Master Chief by Alan Maki

mine or noticed me sitting just inside the doorway of the hootch. Regardless, she coolly turned around and slowly returned to where she had come from. Unfortunately, she never got close enough for me to chase her down and capture her. Shortly afterward another woman came from the opposite direction, took a good look, then turned around and left the area.
    At 1945 Tinh, a PF guide, spotted a man carrying an AK-47 Russian assault rifle at a range of fifty meters. Tinh opened up full automatic with his M-16 and shot the VC. It was then that Same and I began receiving fire at our end of the L ambush. Those VC women must have done a thorough recon of our positions, I thought. Same rushed out the door and fired his Stoner machine gun toward the muzzle flashes, while I concentrated on firing 40mm HE into their midst.
    Shortly afterward, Dai Uy and his crew started receiving fire from left flank. While we continued a steady rate of fire, the Seawolf gunships were called in to wreak havoc on the VC. It was a bit tricky because of the darkness; however, the VC’s positions were easily pinpointed by the green and red tracers—from their AK-47s—which were streaking toward our position. It was very exciting to watch the enemy’s green and red messengers of death rip toward Same and I and hear the pop of the projectiles as they sailed over our heads.
    After the Seawolves had suppressed most of the VC fire, Dai Uy had half of our guys extract by the one remaining slick. While the slick was returning to Dong Tam, Dai Uy had me detonate all three claymore mines, then return to his location, where the rest of the men had set up a small five-man defensive H formation in preparation for our extraction. Because it was a very dark night, four of us—the corner men—held strobe lights with blue lens covers high above our heads to mark our positions for the Sea Lord slick to use as a guide for landing safely between us. However, the helo pilot wasn’t able to see the blue strobe-light flashes, so Dai Uy had us use our flashlights to mark the corners, which worked well.
    After our extraction and return to Dong Tam, the whole Navy team of SEALs, Seawolves, and Sea Lord pilots and crews debriefed by brainstorming the operation’s insertion and extraction and fire-support procedures. There were always lessons to be learned and SOPs to be adjusted for a new Navy team. We needed flexibility and the willingness to adapt those lessons to future operations. The pilots mentioned to us that at one point we had received fire from 270 degrees, or three points of the compass, but all in all it was a good op—we got two VC KIAs and the Seawolves got five KBAs (killed by air). None of our guys had gotten hurt, and we learned from ourmistakes, I thought as I started replenishing my gear’s ordnance and cleaning my beloved combination weapon before I showered and hit the sack.
    The morning of July tenth began with November Platoon making final preparations for a helo insertion and extraction operation that afternoon in Cai Be district. Just before I was to drive to My Tho to pick up a PSB operative to accompany us on the op, Dai Uy decided to call Lieutenant B. at the SpecWar Det office in Binh Thuy. Lieutenant Fletcher wanted to confirm his arrangements for Sea Lord and Seawolf helos and OV-10 Black Pony support for the day’s op. However, Lieutenant B. told him that November Platoon wouldn’t be going on an op because Fletcher had to be at Binh Thuy no later than 1300 for a meeting with the commodore of CTF 116.
    Lieutenant Fletcher was pissed, and rightly so. He had to hurriedly notify HAL-3 and VAL-4 at Binh Thuy, Dinh Tuong sector and subsector TOCs, and our PSB counterparts in My Tho, that the operation had been cancelled. And, to add insult to injury, Dai Uy had to arrange a flight to Binh Thuy in time for the meeting with the commodore. I had begun to understand the difference between administrators and operators. I was later to learn that it was