The Uvalde Raider by Ben English (great books for teens TXT) 📕

“Okay, so what’s so strange about that? Probably doing a little skirting recon to see what’s up with Razor” observed Micah.

“No, Mikey. This is not a recon; I think it is a hunting trip. I think they are tracking someone or something.”

“Huh,” grunted Micah, scanning the area described with the dull green field glasses. At first, he saw nothing, but as Chapo predicted he picked up the motion as soon as they started moving again. At this far out, the NVA troops were only mere specks drifting toward the riverbed.

Micah Templar steadied the binoculars as best he could on a low berm to their front, making certain he was still in the camouflaging shade. They were NVA and far more in number than a standard recon team. Beyond that he couldn’t tell much more. Gonzales’ far more powerful spotting scope was much better at picking out the details at this distance.

The three Marines watched the enemy movement for some time, trying to determine exactly what was going on. The NVA soldiers came to a clearing and hesitated for a moment, but then pushed on through as tactically sound as possible. Micah continued to concentrate through the twin lenses in total silence, straining his eyes for a better read on the evolving situation.

It was Lieutenant Johnson, looking through his own binoculars, who broke the silence.

“What do you make of it, Sergeant?” the new officer quizzed.

“I’m with Corporal Gonzales, sir. They are definitely NVA and at least platoon strength. Plus, I gotta real itchy feeling there’s more of them covering this bunch. And it’s not a recon mission, either. If it was, they would have taken the time to skirt that clearing rather than crossing it. Whatever they’re after, they must want it awfully…”

“They are tracking someone,” Chapo interrupted. “I can see him.”

“Where?” responded Micah.

“About 250 meters below the lead NVA, still in that low area. See the huge tree standing by itself in the middle? Look about thirty mils to the right and down the incline a bit.”

Micah scanned anxiously with the binoculars, trying to pick up what Gonzales was seeing.

The corporal swore softly under his breath. “Aw shit, Mikey. That looks like one of ours. Not a grunt, but definitely norteamericano.”

Templar caught the movement in the area Chapo was describing. It was not Marine jungle utes, or any other clothing pattern worn by American ground troops. It looked more like the coloring of some sort of flight suit.

“Navy or Marine Corps flight suit” said the lieutenant slowly, verifying what Micah had been thinking. “You know, I think I know who this guy might be.”

Johnson continued on. “Right before I moved up from Vandergrift, there was a briefing on an A4 that had gone down inside Laos. The plane was off the USS Hancock on Yankee Station and was attempting to bomb the same general area we’ll be going into.”

“Sir, when did this happen?” queried Micah.

“The bird went down around two weeks ago, evidently it broke apart in the air during a night mission. There was a search, but the pilot ended up being listed as missing and presumed dead” replied Johnson.

“Then maybe Lazarus has arisen, Lieutenant” said Micah, “because that’s the only thing that makes much sense right now. Whoever the man is, he’s probably been seeing the choppers coming and going from the firebase. He figures wherever there are choppers, he’ll find Americans.”

Gonzales cursed again under his breath, but this time more vehemently.  “Mikey, I think they may have seen him. They are picking up the pace and angling toward his position.”

“Lieutenant, we’re going to have to move fast. What do you want to do?”

“Sergeant, I believe the operative word is ‘we,’” replied the second lieutenant. “You have a far better handle on the situation right now than I. What do you suggest?”

Micah thought for a moment. “Sir, I want to go get that man but I don’t want to have to cross the riverbed to do it. That’s nearly 200 meters of mostly open ground, and this could be bait to lure us out there and into a trap.”

Still studying the area through his binoculars, Micah continued verbalizing his thinking process as a plan took shape in his head. “Chapo, how much more distance do you think our guy can make before that NVA platoon catches up with him?”

“Well, Mikey” slowly calculated the stocky corporal, “I think it will all go down right at the riverbed. From what I am seeing now, he must be hearing them coming because he’s also moving faster.”

“I don’t think they want to kill our man as much as capture him,” Micah remarked thoughtfully. “But that will change quick if they think he’s going to be rescued. They see the choppers, same as he does. If I was in charge of that NVA unit, I’d have it set in my mind to go to the river’s edge, no further. They are as leery of that open ground as we are. My plan would go from capture to kill at that point.”

The lieutenant nodded in agreement. “I follow you so far, Sergeant.”

“Okay Lieutenant, then here is my suggestion. We have a range card already set up for that approach, with preplanned fire missions with our 81mortar section and Fox Battery back at Razor. Now, First Squad is already emplaced about 250 meters below us facing the river. We pull the M60 emplaced with Second Squad and some men from Third to reinforce the First. Still with me, sir?”

“Yes” responded Lieutenant Johnson.  “Go on.”

“When our man breaks into the open at the river bed, we hit them with everything we’ve got. Direct weapons fire will engage from the reinforced First Squad, and the 81s at Razor will join