1O  ALMOST FORGOT TO DUCK
The day started as every other day had since I was given the new assignment in Tay Ninh East. I conducted the morning radio checks with 1st Brigade and then deciphered the secret messages from the 25th Infantry Division Headquarters. Most of the messages were related to routine troop deployments, but occasionally we would get notices regarding any B-52 missions in our area of operation. On one of those days, I decided to do a secret document burn, outside our compound, and maybe catch a glimpse of the bomb strikes.
I can remember looking in the direction of Nui Ba Den Mountain and thinking how close the jungle was to my position.
Apparently, too close.
Without warning, a bullet suddenly exploded against the red brick wall next to where my head was leaning. I instinctively dropped into a prone position and looked up at the wall, seeing a chunk of brick missing from where my head had been a few seconds earlier. Seconds later, the sound of the gunshot reached me, telling me the shooter was quite distant. The bullet had missed my forehead by less than an inch (that was close), but the exploding pieces of brick had slashed the right side of my forehead (that was too close).
I crawled several yards alongside the red brick wall until I was behind the burn barrel. Within seconds, another bullet slammed through the center of the barrel, barely missing me. I laid in that prone position, the side of my face pushed into the red mud for at least 30 minutes, hoping to come up with a plan to get out of my predicament…alive, hopefully. I felt blood oozing down the side of my face, so I knew I was wounded; how severe I had no way to tell, but the blood clotting before it hit the ground told me it shouldn’t be serious (operative word, “shouldn’t”).
Not knowing the location of the sniper kept me from getting up and making a run for the door. His two previous shots had to be from over 600 yards, and that alone stopped me from making a careless dash for the safety of the fort. The sniper was good, and I was sure that if I gave him the right “sight picture” (proper sight alignment while aimed at the target one intends to shoot), he would get me in his crosshairs and kill me.
I came up with a plan to hopefully mess up his sight picture and give me a few precious seconds to escape. I smeared the damp red mud around me all over my face and the right side of my uniform. With the wall being red brick, I was hoping my red-camouflaged body would blend in enough with the wall to confuse the shooter. My only other escape possibility, which I ruled out immediately, would be to run through the minefield…easy choice. When I was ready, I kicked the burn barrel on its side and used it as a shield while I inched my way back inside the fort. No more gunfire.
I staggered back into my compound covered in red mud and soaked with sweat. When the other officers saw me, they gathered around while I tried to explain what had just happened.
Nobody cared! They thought it was funny! All I heard were wisecracks.
“Who would waste a bullet on you, anyway?” one of the captains yelled out above the laughter.
Another lovely day in Vietnam. Just glad to be alive.
NOTE: The day after the incident, I deliberately set the perimeter on fire to burn down the high weeds from where the sniper may have been hidden. The slow burning fire turned into a full-blown blaze when the wind suddenly picked up. The fire had to run its course, because nobody was stupid enough to go into the defensive perimeter with all the mines and trip flares out there. For the next two hours, we had a huge fireworks display as the mines and claymores cooked off. Most of the northern defenses had to be redone, and I got an ass-chewing because of the fire, but I did not care. The next night I moved the burn barrel inside the fort’s walls.