Night Visitation
by Dave "Doc" Holladay
It was the last week of July, '68. Bravo Company, First Platoon, 1/501 near the
Eight Click Ville. I was a cherry and my squad leader put me with him for the first two weeks. We set up a platoon ambush
in a area with bombed out concrete buildings. My position with my Sgt. and a couple other men, one of which was Richard
"MAD DOG" Faulk, who was later killed by a booby trap. My Sgt. showed me my fire zone, and only fire zone, which was
overlooking a trail along side a ditch with water. We sat at a doorway and he helped me put my clay more out for the first
time. When my turn came in the dark to pull my guard, I was refreshed what to do. If anything moved on that trail to my
right, I was to set the claymore off and open fire. The next position to my left, covered the trail to the left of me. It
was quiet and very dark, my eyes were as big as quarters, my ears were like a foxes. I had a lot of states hunting
experience at night, so was better to adapt than a lot of the "cherries". Time went by and I kept hearing something in the
water, seemed it was coming across the canal toward our position. I remember my squad leader tell me there was a trail on
the other side, so I knew they were coming to get me! I turned and woke my squad leader and told him. He jumped up, grabbed
his m-16, and listened at the doorway. After about 10 minutes, he told me that it was rats in the water and to not wake him
unless I really saw something. I thought to myself after he layed back down, ( if I see something, I won't have to wake
him, cause I'll blow and shoot everything till he takes my rifle from me.) My 1st guard period was up and I woke the next
man, and I fell asleep. Not long after that, I awoke to the sound of a auto burst of a m-16. A V.C. had breached the ambush
perimeter and was walking through the sleeping men on the ground. I don't think he knew we were there till the m-16 tracers
rattled around him. He darted around the side of the roofless building and escaped. Everyone was on full alert by then, and
my eyes were now as big as silver dollars! No one was hurt "Thank God" except that one of the sleeping men close to the
path of the V.C., had his heel blown off one of his jungle boot! Does anyone remember this?
Sgt. Dave "Doc" Hollady
B/1/501: Vietnam 1968-'69