The Story of the First Platoon
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  Monsoon Season
September, 1969
by Glyn Haynie
​
Picture
Mountains west of Hill 4-11

​The first taste of the monsoon arrived at dawn in early September 1969. Rain fell steadily for ten days straight. During monsoon season, we abandoned the flatlands—the rice paddies—and took our patrols into the mountains. To the west of Hill 4-11 rose a mountain range: high, steep, choked with jungle vegetation.

Those same mountains sheltered the NVA and VC, who also moved to higher ground when the rains came.

​The climb was brutal—physically exhausting, suffocatingly hot despite the rain, and mentally draining. We had to maintain constant vigilance for the enemy, for booby traps, for the treacherous terrain itself.

​Often there were no trails. The point man would hack a path forward with his machete, one swing at a time.

Each night we stopped to establish our defensive positions, then set up the guard roster—shifts of one or two hours. Pulling guard duty meant sitting hunched beneath a poncho, shivering in the rain, exhausted and soaking wet, every muscle aching. You peered through the narrow slit you'd left open, eyes straining through the darkness for any sign of the enemy.

Two weeks passed without a single dry day.
  • Home
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