To the melody of Fortunateson, more than a dozen UH-1D Huey helicopters flew over the port of Da Nang and landed at a U.S. military camp on the outskirts of the port. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 ｉｎｆｏ

I jumped off the plane with five newcomers, and the helicopter was so strong that I had to hold down the huge M1 steel helmet on my head with my hands.

We were assigned by the horn as instructors sent by the U.S. military to Vietnam to train the South Vietnamese army.

The veteran team led by Jiang Yitao was separated from me, and they were members of a U.S. security force stationed in Da Nang, responsible for guarding the camp and conducting routine patrols.

"Sir, the new Second Infantry Company, Company Commander Nguyen Hung reports to you!" A dark, thin Vietnamese officer saluted me.

I nodded at him, ignoring him. Ruan Xiong had encountered a lot of American GIs, so he was not surprised by this, and he followed me very doggedly.

This would have been in early 1965, shortly after the outbreak of the Gulf of Tonkin incident. The U.S. military officially began to send troops to Vietnam on a large scale and personally intervened in the domestic liberation war in Vietnam.

Da Nang, as the hardest hit area of North Vietnamese guerrilla activities, was naturally the top priority of the US military's defense.

In addition to a few new men, I was assigned a company of South Vietnamese soldiers, and behind me was their highest commander.

Not only me, but also a few U.S. military officers one after another. After getting off the plane, they will be instructors of two more infantry companies and an artillery battalion.

Under the leadership of Nguyen Hung, we came to the second company station.

"Company Commander Ruan, are these your soldiers?" I asked, standing outside the garrison, pointing to the South Vietnamese soldiers wandering around.

"Yes, sir!" Ruan Xiong replied with a flushed face.

No wonder I would be surprised, in my impression, the Vietnamese soldiers are synonymous with fierceness and cruelty.

But what appeared before me was a large group of skinny, hiding shirtless in the shade of the camp, chewing betel nuts, drinking rice wine, playing cards, absolutely a standard rabble!

"Assemble!"

Nguyen Hung may have felt embarrassed, and viciously brandished the wooden sticks he had picked up, driving the numb South Vietnamese soldiers one by one in front of me, barely forming a few zigzag queues.

"Well, gentlemen, I'm your new instructor. In the coming days, I hope to have a good time with everyone! I smiled and introduced myself.

Driven by Ruan Xiong's hard work, the soldiers burst into applause.

Over the next month, I conducted "special training" for South Vietnamese soldiers. My attitude was that as long as it didn't interfere with my classes, I didn't care about anything else, so these South Vietnamese soldiers gradually herded their sheep.

Ruan Xiong and I are happy that he can continue to use these soldiers to help him earn money, and I can focus my training on the newcomers.

Except for the newcomers, this result can be described as a happy one!

The newcomers gave me the nickname Devil, and I trained them twenty-four hours a day, in any way I could think of, and if I didn't finish it, it was a beating, even if it was a woman!

After a month of cramming education, although I don't know how much the newcomers have learned, from the perspective of their mental outlook, there should be a reborn change.

After a month of training, in order to deal with the increasingly rampant attacks of North Vietnam, the U.S. command ordered us to cooperate with the local U.S. garrison to conduct a survey and sweep of nearby villages.

In order to facilitate the management and elimination of the support of the North Vietnamese guerrillas, the U.S. military forcibly concentrated the originally loose villages and built large and small "strategic villages".

These so-called "strategic village" plans are very familiar to me, and they are exactly the same as the "turret" tactics of the Kuomintang and the Japanese puppet army.

I left the camp with my minions in a jeep and headed straight for the mission mark.

Our goal is the second "strategic village", which is not very far.

What we didn't know was that as soon as we came out of the barracks, someone handed over our information all the way to the guerrillas.

As usual, the raids yielded no results.

Ruan Xiong led his subordinates to collect scrapes everywhere, from property, food, clothes to women and food, all of them were within his scope of scraping, and they had to fight with the "Yellow Army" back then.

Just as we were about to leave, the unexpected happened.

In the vicinity of my jeep, there were some children all the time, and they either cried all the way, or they didn't cry or make trouble, and they kept stretching out their little hands for snacks.

Originally, these were nothing, but Ruan Xiong's character's face changed and he grabbed one of the little girls.

The clothes worn by the little girl are obviously made of other clothes, and if you look closely at the material and style, it is the vest worn by the US military in the military uniform!

The little girl couldn't stop crying, and under Ruan Xiong's questioning, the little girl stretched out her hand and pointed to the rice fields outside the village.

Ruan Xiong threw down the little girl, unfolded the procession, and walked towards the rice fields outside the village with a gun in hand.

The rice in the paddy field is rising gratifyingly, and the rice has already begun to tassel, and the harvest is not far away.

Five or six Vietnamese girls were hunched over and wearing hats, busily in the fields, unconcerned about our approach.

"Inside, get your head up!" Ruan Xiong walked to the edge of the paddy field and shouted.

The girls raised their heads in confusion, and looked at us with questions in their eyes.

That kind of ten thousand kinds of style makes many men on our side swallow saliva involuntarily.

I really jumped mentally when these girls looked up, and quickly hung up the reverse gear and stepped on the accelerator!

Just as these people were fascinated, these Vietnamese girls suddenly fished in the water and in the baskets around them, and pointed a few MAT-49s and AK-47s at us.

"Da Da Da"

The dense bullets hit the head and face, and the South Vietnamese soldiers who were too close in front had no time to react at all, and suffered heavy casualties in an instant!

“rpg!!!”

The roof leaked and cracked and rained overnight, and suddenly a few North Vietnamese guerrilla soldiers appeared behind us, carrying rockets that couldn't help but hit us!

Hearing the terrible alarm, I slammed the steering wheel and narrowly avoided the rockets.

"Boom!"

The empty rockets fell to the ground, and the violent explosion overturned the already tilted jeep directly, throwing us to the ground.

"Fight back! Fire!!! ”

Ruan Xiong is lucky, and he is still alive and active.

Panicked, the South Vietnamese persimmons began to calm down, because the number of enemies was not large.

"Bang Bang"

The M14 semi-automatic rifles in the hands of the South Vietnamese soldiers were clearly inferior in firepower, and were almost overwhelmed by the guerrillas' submachine guns and automatic rifles.

In fact, not only the South Vietnamese soldiers, but even the American army, the weapons in their hands were not necessarily as advanced as those of the North Vietnamese guerrillas. (To be continued.) )