Free Black Market by Donald E. Zlotnik

of hours,
     First Sergeant.”
    Youngbloode paused just outside the door and looked around his company area. Every possible place that could be used to spread
     out wet clothes and equipment was filled with olive drab items ruffling in the strong breeze. “What does it look like around
     the perimeter?”
    “Not that bad, sir. A couple of hard hours filling in gullies and replacing trip flares and Claymores should make the perimeter
     secure for tonight.” Arnason shrugged. “I’ve seen worse.”
    “I bet you have … Is it true that you’ve been in-country almost four years?”
    “Yes sir. I was with the Eighth Transportation Company out of Fort Bragg, North Carolina; light helicopters.”
    “They came over here in 1962, didn’t they?” Youngbloode knew his military history.
    “Yes sir.”
    “That’s been a haul, Sergeant.” Youngbloode’s voice reflected that he was impressed.
    “An assignment is an assignment, sir.”
    “Well, what did you want to talk about?”
    “I heard that there might be a mission for my team. We could use a short shakeout mission to see how the team works together.”
    “I’ve been given a series of areas to reconnoiter. The commanding general wants the An Khe Pass checked out for NVA outposts
     and he’s been given a mission to recon the Ia Drang Valley for enemy activity. The Special Forces camp at Due Co has just
     been relieved after almost a hundred days of being under siege.”
    Arnason thought for a couple of minutes. The An Khe Pass had been cleared almost a year earlier by the First Brigade of the
     101st Airborne and there hadn’t been much enemy activity since then, maybe a trail watcher or two. He had been in the Ia Drang
     during the big battle and knew the area as well as any American. “I’d like to try the Ia Drang again.”
    “Again?”
    “Yes sir. Woods and I have been there before.” Arnason looked directly at the captain. “It would be a good place to see if
     the new men can cut it.”
    “Fine. The Ia Drang assignment is yours.” The captain stopped walking and looked toward Arnason’s bunker. He could see that
     Woods already had his men filling in the newly created gullies in his sector of the perimeter. Arnason had a good team. “I
     would like to go along with your team on this mission. I don’t think a recon company commander should spend all of his time
     in the rear.”
    Arnason didn’t know how to answer the officer. He didn’t want a rookie West Pointer screwing up his mission and giving dumb
     orders that would get his men killed. “Don’t you think you should pull a couple of missions closer to the base area, sir?
     That way you won’t be away from the company so long.”
    “I thought about that, but the problem is that you’re the best recon man in the division and I’d rather spend my first couple
     patrols
learning
from you.”
    Arnason looked over at the captain.
    “I said
learning
. Once we get on the ground, you’ll command your own team, but I’d like to ask that you give me the appearance of commanding
     them before and after.” Youngbloode grinned. “I have to keep up my image.”
    “It’s a deal sir.” Arnason was really beginning to like the officer. “I appreciate that.”
    “No, it’s I who
appreciate
the opportunity to learn the recon trade from a combat NCO.”
    “I’d like to ask you something sir.”
    “Shoot.”
    “I know I’ve got an overstrengthed team, but I’d like to keep them together. Kirkpatrick is due to rotate soon along with
     Sergeant Woods a few months later, and I’d like to have a little fat so that I can send my men on R and R and not have to
     stand down from missions.”
    Youngbloode smiled. He had already been briefed by the first sergeant about breaking up Arnason’s teams and giving the men
     to NCO team leaders who were understrengthed. Youngbloode realized what the other NCOs were up to and didn’t agree with it.
     Arnason was well known for training his men well and