On their own, a minefield and barbed
wire entanglements would not keep a VC or NVA sapper out of the fire-base lines,
it would just slow them down. It took alert men with guns, booby traps and trip
flares to achieve that.
Night did not bring any relief from the
mortars; it joined forces with them to provide cover to the sappers who may
soon attempt to infiltrate the perimeter.
Schermuly, mortar and artillery
illumination rounds, plus flares dropped by ‘Spooky’ helped to aid the
defenders but the light from the flares was, of course, also of assistance to
the enemy, in particular to his snipers.
Earlier in the day, the enemy had
mortared the flanks of the fire-base, dropping HE rounds upon the slopes until
they noted the lack of secondary explosions. The impossibility of having a
mined, cover-free, kill zone in a fertile jungle setting was presenting itself
as a problem for security once more.
For the previous four hours, the enemy
had largely concentrated his fire between the western and northern sides of the
perimeter. The occasional round would land somewhere else but generally the
pressed men of the ARVN company elsewhere on the perimeter counted their
blessings. The same could not be said of the veterans, those advisors,
Montagnards and visiting troops with a previous war, or a fire-fight or ten,
under their belts, these men did not get to call themselves veterans by accepting
given situations at face value. The enemy was up to something.
The Empire Quartet was waiting at a
small gap in the sandbags on the south-east side of the perimeter. It was, in
effect, a modern day sally port, a secure entryway through the fortifications.
Only wide enough for one man to squeeze through at a time it was near invisible
from the outside. A weighted frame, wrapped in barbed wire and bedecked with
nails acted as the ‘door’, one that could only be opened from the inside. None
of the men wore webbing equipment or carried firearms; they were armed with
various edged weapons. WW1 era trench knives served the two sons of ANZAC,
these knives incorporated a knuckleduster and a sharp, bone penetrating, stud
on the hilt for cracking skulls. The trench knives made Peter’s Fairbairn/Sykes
fighting knife and Dip’s Kukri seem positively civilised in comparison.
With all visible skin blacked out with
camouflage cream they waited in the darkness next to a fighting position manned
by a trio of the largely untrained ARVN troops who had been foisted upon 'Ben' Gunn.
The moon was about to slip below the
horizon but by its light Dip could see the nearest ARVN soldier’s eyes, which
were wide and fearful. In a way, Dip Rai sympathised with the men who had been
dumped here because they expendable and their high command apparently expected
the fire-base to fall. It was the unspoken policy of the general staff to follow
President Diem’s wish to preserve the best troops and equipment for use against
internal coup attempts, not military incursions by hostile external forces.
Most of the ARVN at Fire-base Zara were
getting it into their heads that it was sink or swim, time to fight or die, not
hide amongst the villagers as a few had attempted before the civilians were
evacuated.
Beyond them, over the sandbag wall and
wire, lay the dark hillside that sloped away until it met the jungle. The
intervening ground was their kill zone, which the manuals stated should be
prepared by the clearance of undergrowth and the removal of any natural
undulations or folds in the ground that may offer cover to an enemy. Even
before mortaring had left shell holes to hide in there had been a foot high
growth of grass and plant life taking hold. It was not a lot of cover for
attacking infantry but it was ample for a stealthy man to approach the perimeter.
The defenders remained alert and
expended schermuly para-illuminators at infrequent intervals but unfortunately
the distinctively loud crack of the percussion cap igniting the propellant is
then followed by a sky rocket ‘whoosh’, accompanied by a trail of sparks,
giving three seconds warning that it is going to get bright for at least forty
seconds. By the time the flare is alight beneath its tiny parachute the enemy
is already hugging the ground.
Replacing the trip flares and booby-traps that the
mortaring had destroyed was the fire-bases best insurance against surprise
intrusions.
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