The Cajun

First light found them still in wild jungle country, but then they crossed a trail that they had patrolled only two days before. Laird addressed the Night Fighters. "Take a ten minute break and then we'll double time down the trail. We'll break every half-hour for five minutes. Keep an eye out for booby traps!"

They had been moving down the trail for about four hours when Laird suddenly raised his hand to halt. When they had stopped, they heard the crash of gunfire up ahead of them. The reports sounded to Laird like a large, general engagement. Adrenaline coursing through their veins, they hurried on toward the sound of the firing. They were ready to engage the enemy at any time, but there were no Vietcong troops in their vicinity.

In a half-hour, from the top of a hill, they saw their perimeter and the ring of fire around it. The gun flashes were continuous. With a rush, Laird saw that the village beyond was in flames!

"We need to get to Quan Li as quickly as possible! It looks like the Cong has gotten past our perimeter." They rushed pell-mell down the trail. Laird was first into the village, scanning the way for enemy troops. No signs of life were visible. As he advanced, Laird heard the firing from the perimeter slacken and then stop. A deadly silence hung over the village. He came upon the chief's hut first, burning brightly in the early morning. The chief was lying on his back on the stairs, head down, with half of his face shot away. Other bodies were lying in grotesque positions out in the open. He recognized some of the elders as he passed. The school was just ahead.

He found her nude, crumpled body in a corner of her room. She had been raped repeatedly and then been disemboweled. Laird wrapped her carefully in his poncho and sat by her side for a long time. Some of the troops had gathered outside. He rose to his feet and saw Sergeant Hilburn by the door.

"Sergeant, form a burial detail." He turned and left the hut. He did not look back.

He saw Lon moving toward him, smoke stained and hollow eyed. He had a field dressing across his forehead. "What happened Lon?"

"They just rolled right over the top of us. We managed to hold the perimeter, but just barely. Then, suddenly, they turned around and left. We have a lot of casualties."

"The people of the village must have fled south. It looks like they killed all of the leaders."

A look of horror came over Lon's face. "What about Mai?"

"She is dead."

"Laird, I'm sorry!" He didn't reply.

When they went back to the perimeter, Laird saw over a hundred Cong bodies scattered across the battlefield. Lon turned to him. "How did it go at the border?"

"We found a large troop formation on the river bank. They were probably on their way here. Not many of them lived through the barrage."

"I'll send a squad to find the villagers. I'm sure they are not far off. I'm also going to send out a patrol to see if we have any Vietcong left."

Laird sunk to the ground with his head between his legs. He thought of Mai. There would never be anything else of her ever again. His mind told him that there was much to do, but his body would not respond. Finally, he looked up at his friend. "Lon, I'm going to have to stay here and rest. I can't seem to function anymore."

"I'll send someone with you down to the junk. Go on back to Bien Hoa, Laird. I'll finish up here."