by: Bruce "Doc" Melson

A column of 12 Armored Personnel Carriers (APC's) growling, slipping and lurching through the wet slippery clay in the misty early morning rain in the then Republic of South Vietnam on November 25^th 1969.  This was monsoon season; a period of about 4 months of continual rains which kept the men riding atop these cold, green, monstrous behemoths; wet 90% of the time.

As Doc  reached down beside the turret holding the 50 Cal Machine gun next to which he sat on the second track in the column, he broke out a chemical heat tab and dropped it in the steel pot part of his helmet, lit it and tucked it between his legs under the rubber poncho that covered him from head to foot, put the inner liner back on his head and enjoyed the warmth that began to thaw his tired bones.  Steam slowly rising from the surface of his poncho, he began swaying sleepily as the track trundles down the twin tracks and rose and fell as it first climbed a hill and then dipped down the other side to only rise up again, hurtling through brush and thick mud.  He did not seem to be able to remember the last time he was dry… Ahhhhh, it must have been ages ago… he wondered what it was like back then, being dry.  Sleeping had become an acquired art in this weather, digging out shallow trenches on lonely cold hilltops and laying down in them wrapped in a poncho and liner… the trickle of water slipping through, settling and finally warming to his body allowed him to drift off, gratefully, and blot out reality just one more time, just a short little while.

This particular operation was a combined Armor and Mechanized Infantry operation in Cam-Lo Valley in Northern I Corps.  Four Patton tanks of "A" Company 1/77^th Armor; and 12 tracks of "A" Company, 1/61^st Mechanized Infantry - 2 tanks taking lead and 2 tanks bringing up the rear.
I Corps was the northernmost Region of South Vietnam, bordering to the north with the Demilitarized Zone, a no man's land between North and South Vietnam; Laos to the west and the South China Sea to the east.  On a clear day the communist flag could be seen flying across the Demilitarized Zone.

This was a normal search and destroy mission, in which they were out there trying to see what they could see; evidence of fresh communist ground troop movements, weapons catches, or any other evidence pointing to enemy activity in the area.  Doc could no longer count how many of these missions he'd been on; the truth of the matter was that they seldom found the enemy until they were ready to be found.  This would probably be another long, cold, wet day spent chasing shadows in hell.

Doc looked toward the back of the track and saw that Hector was sitting back there wrapped around his M-60 machine gun, probably as sleepy as he was, as they seemed to drift though this dreamy seeming mist of the early morning.  Riding the rear of the track was not the best spot because it was a rough ride back there, the rise and fall of the track quite accentuated.

Doc Melson didn't know much about Hector except for the fact that he was from Puerto Rico and fairly new to the company, having arrived out to the field only a week before.  Hector was a rather quite,

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