Leeches

On Feb. 22, 1967, Air Cav Troop vehicles pulled from the convoy and into an open field somewhere west of Tay Ninh City. Our part of the convoy consisted of a quarter-ton carrying a driver and an officer, the troop supply truck, a vehicle maintenance section deuce-and-a-half, two JP-4 tankers, aircraft maintenance vehicles, and a five-ton truck loaded with ammunition for gunships, slicks and individual weapons – tens of thousands of rounds of 7.62mm linked for flex guns, door guns and Rifle Platoon M60s; 2.75-inch rockets for the gunships; 40mm linked for the nose-mounted grenade launchers; 5.56mm for M16 rifles; 40mm rounds for M79 single-shot grenade launchers; and some .45-caliber ammunition for officers and four rifle platoon machine gunners and four grenadiers.

The convoy for 11th Armored Cavalry Regiment left Blackhorse base camp before 1000 that morning and traveled 180 miles to Tay Ninh in six hours.

Aero Rifle Platoon had been deleted by about a dozen soldiers, when quick volunteers for door gunner positions were quickly accepted by the gunship and lift platoons. The rest of us, about 25, waited for an announced reorganization into LRRP, Long Range Reconnaissance Platoon.

The deuce-and-a-half carrying the remainder of the platoon pulled to a stop. The area had devastated by fire, maybe by Viet Cong eliminating a government-friendly village, maybe by ARVN soldiers after the village population was moved to a more secure area. Outlines in black showed where bamboo and thatch houses once stood, and black squares and rectangles indicated location of what had been rice paddies. Most of us thought destruction of the village was a bad thing, but we knew that war sucks.

We were hot and tired and very much covered with dust from riding six hours in a truck with canvas sides rolled up.

Somebody yelled, “Hey, there’s a well!” My squad clustered around the hole in the ground. Water was about four feet down.

In less than five minutes, SP4 Berry had his shirt off and 550 cord tied to his helmet strap and the helmet lowered to the water. The steel pot easily sank beneath the surface. Smiling at his own ingenuity, Berry brought up the water-filled helmet and emptied the water over his head.

Berry grinned as he washed dust from his hair and his face. He filled the helmet again and rinsed dust from his shoulders, chest and back. Somebody else took the helmet and cord and brought up more water. Soon, almost the entire squad was wet and happy.

As a young sergeant, my first thought was, “That water probably is not potable.” But, my soldiers were much happier clean than when covered with red dust.

Then, somebody yelled, “Connolly, there’s a leech on your back!”

Sure enough, a big dark gray slug-looking thing clung to Connolly’s back, below his shoulders and out of his sight. I don’t remember all of what Connolly said, but somebody quickly had a cigarette lit and held close to the leech. The slug dropped onto the ground, where at least two combat boots quickly smeared it into the wet ground.

A check of everyone who had dumped water over head and shoulders found no more leeches. I checked everybody as well.

“Well,” somebody said. “I guess that puts an end to that.”

Yep. If you are an infantry soldier and something good comes along, you can bet it comes with a price.