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A Vietnam photo album (part 1)

In theory, a cadre of Vietnamese Special Forces commanded the Strike Force. in fact, the Americans made the decisions and led the "Strikers" in the field. Here Specialist 5 Russell Brooks hunkers in the reeds while one of his platoons moves across the Song Ba at dusk. I've never seen a wilder or more beautiful countryside than this, though the heat and the scarcity of water made brutal work of military operations.

Spec-5 Mike Holland was the other American in our column. Here we're crossing a ridge, sometimes following footpaths (with occasional man-traps filled with punji sticks--bamboo stakes that were sharpened and either dipped in shit or coated with a native poison) but more often bushwhacking.

From time to time we crossed paths with the main column, commanded by Captain Walter Swain. He was very insistent that the Americans blend in with the Strikers, but with great attention to detail (such as would be exercised by a Viet Cong sniper) I'll bet you can figure out which one was he. (Hint: the Strikers didn't wear sunglasses.) Leading the column is Cowboy the interpreter, in his broad-brimmed hat. His name was Phillipe, and from that and his Caucasian good looks I assumed that his father was French.

The objective was a village called Tan Hoa. (Hoa is pronounced "wah.") When we got there, it was empty except for some fighting holes, a bit of metaled road or runway, a Gallic cross and three French graves. We'd been suckered by an outdated map.

The team radioman, Sergeant Charles Coffing, is the American walking with a slung rifle. On the far right, Cowboy leads a band of refugees whom we'd policed up while chasing a Viet Cong rifleman who'd had the ill luck to shoot a deer while we were just over the hill. (We ate the deer, after which we got mortared by the Viet Cong--fair enough, since we'd mortared the deer hunter.)