Page 2 of Cry Havoc (Tom Reece #1)
Forty millimeter—or mike-mike—grenades from their M79s were to be used next, followed by hand grenades.
Their rifles and machine guns were a last resort.
As soon as they started shooting, the NVA would know their precise location and concentrate all their fire in that direction.
Weapons like the claymores, grenades, and 40mm mike-mikes kept the enemy guessing and would be Havoc’s primary means of deterrent until they had no choice but to go to the guns.
They would then continue to fall back toward an emergency extraction point to be picked up by H-34 Kingbee helicopters flown by South Vietnamese Air Force pilots.
If they could summon fast movers for CAS—close air support—they would bring down a world of hurt on their pursuers. If…
Tom remembered the days of his first deployment with SEAL Team TWO in the Mekong Delta where, as a new guy, he had carried the Ithaca Model 37 pump-action 12-gauge shotgun with duckbill attachment when walking point in blue jeans and Converse All Stars.
That seemed like a lifetime ago when he and his fellow Men with Green Faces rained down hell on Viet Cong patrols from ambush sites in the mangroves along the River of the Nine Dragons as it meandered its way toward the South China Sea.
The amount of firepower carried by his twelve-man SEAL Platoon caused the Viet Cong to think their force far exceeded their actual numbers.
That was a different mission. Those were VC.
In Laos they were dealing with the NVA, an army that had been trained by the Soviets.
Even at midday it was gloomy beneath the triple canopy. At night it would be pitch black. Tom felt comfortable in the dark. It provided a blanket of security. It also meant that an extraction was highly unlikely, keeping them behind enemy lines until at least sunup.
They traveled heavy, much heavier than Tom had when operating in the deltas of the south.
Laos was an area that by international law was off limits, which meant it might be a while before they could contact the FOB through an overhead air asset or their top-secret Hickory radio relay site to request extraction.
In these situations, extra magazines and grenades were more useful than anything out of a C-Ration.
As Quinn was fond of pointing out: I’d rather be hungry than dead.
Tom’s first-line gear consisted of a Browning Hi-Power 9mm pistol in a black leather holster on his right side, and an integrally suppressed .
22 caliber High Standard H-D semiautomatic pistol on his left.
A Randall Made Model 14 knife with its seven-and-a-half-inch blade and black Micarta handle in a weathered brown leather sheath was on his right hip behind the Browning.
Bo Randall’s company in Orlando, Florida, had been crafting knives since 1938, blades that had accompanied U.S.
servicemen into the Second World War, Korea, and now Vietnam.
The base tailor had modified Tom’s fatigues and added extra pockets specifically sized for his signal mirror, notebook and pen, maps, morphine syrettes, a pen flare, whistle, compass, and his URC-10 emergency radio along with a frequency and code book.
A fluorescent orange marking panel to signal aircraft and mark landing zones was stashed in one of two large cargo pockets on his pant legs.
He wore black gloves with more breathable cloth on the tops and leather under the fingers and palms. The thumb, index, and middle fingers were cut off at the first joint.
A Swiss Army Knife in his right pocket was tied to a belt loop with green parachute cord. Everything had a purpose.
Tom didn’t dare look at the watch on his left wrist, a Rolex Submariner on a black nylon strap with two marine-grade snaps to which a leather cover was affixed to prevent reflection.
A small Waltham compass was attached to the band just below the stainless-steel case of the timepiece.
The watch reminded him of Saigon, of the CIA… of Ella.
Not now, Tom. Stay focused.
Like most SOG operators, Tom’s second-line gear was attached to modified World War Two–era BAR—Browning Automatic Rifle—web gear.
In Arctic canteen covers attached to the belt were his four additional RPD drums lined with strips of linoleum to prevent the open-link metal non-disintegrating belts and rounds from rattling.
He had increased the length of each belt from their standard 100 to 125 rounds per drum—every round mattered and could mean the difference between life and death for the entire team.
A cut-down M79 was secured with a D-ring through the trigger guard on the left side of the harness.
Additional BAR pouches carried two high-explosive 40 millimeter rounds, two flechette 40mm antipersonnel rounds filled with steel darts, four frag grenades, two smokes, and a white phosphorus grenade.
A canteen and a gas mask were situated behind the ammo pouches.
An extra claymore was attached to his chest—blasting cap removed.
Also on the web belt was a Frank & Warren Survival Ax Type II, which he thought was superior to a machete due to its sharp hook that allowed him to cut vines regardless of which way it was swung.
Anything that shined was covered with black tape.
Anything that rattled was modified to keep unnatural sounds to a minimum.
Of primary importance was a 12-foot section of green rope, coiled and attached to his web gear.
It would be used to tie a Swiss Seat harness to clip into a rope, the operators called strings, dropped from a helo to hoist them out of the jungle.
Then it was a freezing ride at 7,000 feet for the hour-long flight back to Phu Bai.
Quinn was similarly outfitted but ran his CAR-15 with thirty twenty-round magazines, each loaded with eighteen rounds.
For his secondary he opted for the 1911A1 .
45 pistol, one of only a few SOG pistols customized by gunsmith Armand Swenson.
Instead of the Frank & Warren Survival Ax, Quinn carried a Special Forces–issued Peter LaGana hatchet from the American Tomahawk Company as a nod to his heritage, and because it was more effective than a blade for dispatching sentries.
A specially designed Indig Ruck, the brainchild of Conrad Bennet “Ben” Baker of the obscure Counterinsurgency Support Office hidden away in Okinawa, Japan—SOG’s own Q Branch from the popular James Bond films—held Tom’s third-line gear.
In it, he stowed an extra canteen with water purification tablets taped to the outside.
They supposedly killed whatever microorganisms lived in Laotian streams, and he hoped counteracted the Agent Orange defoliation chemical the U.S.
blanketed over the jungle from the air. The pack also contained a medical kit, six extra grenades, three more smokes, eight M79 rounds, additional claymores that now lined the perimeter, and a small plastic tube of indigenous rations also developed by the ingenious Ben Baker that consisted of precooked lightly seasoned rice with fish, shrimp, or meat laced with vitamin B.
Though most recon teams carried a single large man-portable radio, Tom and Quinn both carried PRC-25s, hefty, unwieldy communications devices that were their lifeline.
They both believed it was worth the extra weight to have a backup.
The PRC-25 was the most essential piece of equipment in their arsenal, capable of connecting them to A-1 Skyraiders, F-4 Phantoms, F-100 Super Sabers, A-6 Intruders, and AC-130E gunships.
To prevent the radios from falling into enemy hands, a thermite grenade was taped to the sides to melt them into oblivion if the team was about to be overrun.
Each team member also carried handcuffs.
They were always ready to grab an enemy combatant for their intelligence value.
A live prisoner also meant five days of R&R in Taiwan or Thailand and one hundred U.S.
dollars as a reward. Someone higher up the chain of command had figured that operators on the ground needed an additional incentive to carry an unwilling captive soldier out of the jungle when it might be much more efficient to simply slit their throat.
Higher had been right. Instead of money and a vacation, the little people, as SOG affectionately referred to their Montagnards, on a successful prisoner snatch op would be honored with a new Seiko watch from supply.
If rain didn’t ground the aircraft, Havoc would make contact with the Air Force FAC aircraft overhead—call sign Covey—in a low-flying O-2A Cessna Skymaster or possibly with a C-130 command post high above southern Laos.
Coming over the radio with Prairie Fire Emergency would shift priority for all aircraft in the AO to the SOG Team under fire.
Next to the pilot was a Special Forces MACV-SOG soldier, a Covey Rider, who could speak directly with the unit in contact on the ground, help direct strikes, and guide the recon team to their LZ for pickup.