Summer of '69 (IC)(OPEN)

[Bolslania]

OOC

1st Lieutenant Cao Phúc Ðiền
Quang Nam, Vietnam
1500 Local Time
June 14th, 1969

---

The jungle surrounding the American outpost was dense. It's thick canopy shadowing all happenings in a blanket of humid darkness. Insects buzzed incessantly, occasionally joined by the howl of a monkey or bird.

The jungle was also chalk full of Communist fighters.

Those fighters currently had their eyes, and rifles, fixed on the aforementioned American firebase. The Firebase sat atop a hill, an ugly mark on a burned and blasted hill. Stumps were all the remained standing around it, the trees having been cut down to make fortifications or been taken down by napalm and artillery. Deep craters were scored into the ground from the artillery bombardments that the North Vietnamese had been pouring on the Americans for almost a month now. However the Americans only dug in more, burying themselves like ticks into the Vietnamese countryside.

1st Lieutenant Cao Phúc Ðiền was not looking forward to what was about to happen. Somewhere up the chain of command the brass had decided it was a good idea to directly skirmish with the firebase.

Yes, let's just abandon the guerrilla warfare against patrols that had been working for months and attack a base full of more than 100 G.I's. Great idea Cao thought. His personal fears didn't display on his face however. He needed to look confident for his men. Their nervousness was almost as dense as the moisture in the air around them, however no one appeared to be making to run. Cao brought his binoculars up to his eyes. Scanning the enemy position.

"Fuck..." He muttered. The American's were not lacking in terms of firepower, that was for sure. He counted what he figured to be at least 2 armored vehicles, bristling with guns. Another vehicle appeared to be a utility truck that had metal plating and more guns than a battleship slapped onto it. That wasn't even counting the battery of artillery or the sandbag and log bunkers that dotted the top of the hill.

He began moving about his forces, directing the fire of his platoon's machine-guns and RPGs. He could only hope that the NLF officer on the other side was doing the same. It was a few minutes before everyone was aiming at what they needed to aim at, and Cao settled in a crater, keeping his head and rifle exposed. He settled his cheek on the metal stock of his rifle, taking a deep breath.

"Now!" He shouted. Then, the world erupted.

---

1st Lieutenant Mạc Hòa Thái
Quang Nam, Vietnam
1500 Local Time
June 14th, 1969

---

Mac walked about the camp, M16 cradled under his arm. He didn't have much reason to be wandering about, but it was better than sitting on a rock-solid cot in one of the camps barracks. A cigarette poked out from under his aviators, burning away happily. Before the war Mac didn't smoke. Now some described him as a chimney. In truth he was rarely actually smoking the cigarette. Usually he just let it sit on the edge of his lips and burn.

He came to a stop beside one of the machine-gun positions. The snarling panthers emblazoned on the helmets signifying the affiliation of its occupants.

"Afternoon gentlemen." He said, leaning against the makeshift doorway of the sandbag-and-log fortification.

"Afternoon sir." Corporal Lục Phúc Hưng replied, resting his arm on the M60 that was mounted in the shooting slit. Private Vũ An Co stood next to him, a cigarette dangling loosely from his fingers.

"How are you boys doing?" He asked. The pair shrugged.

"Alright sir. I'm appreciating the lack of artillery fire. Although I'm a little nervous about what that brings." Luc said. Vu grunted in agreement.

"I'm not sure the Charlie's are in a state to launch an att-" Mac was interrupted by a RPG round streaming into the bunker. He was blown off his feet, landing with a heavy thump on the ground several feet backwards. He gasped for air as he heard gunfire and yelling erupt from all sides. Through his tinted glasses he could see tracer fire flying over his head. His ears were ringing following the explosion, his vision blurry and vague. A white man ran up to him, kneeling beside him. The red cross on his armband showing that he was a medic.

"Sir? Are you alright?" The medic yelled over the ongoing firefight as he checked the Ranger over. Mac brushed him off, his hearing and vision returning to normal.

"I'm alright I'm alright. Two in there though." He said, gesturing towards the collapsed emplacement. The medic looked over, giving a final look to Mac before he took off to examine the smoking structure. Mac sat up, looking around for his rifle. He leapt into action as he felt and heard the sharp crack of a bullet whizzing past his head. He reached out for his M16, which was laying a few feet from him. He got on his feet and low ran behind a sandbag wall, slamming his back into the solid cover while he tried to ascertain what was occurring.

Men were running about the camp, scrambling for cover to begin returning fire. He saw the smoke streams from other RPGs as more rockets slammed into the base, screaming usually following the explosions. An ARVN Ranger ran by him, M60 dangling from his arms.

"Hey! Over here!" Mac yelled, the Ranger came low-running over, grunting with the weight of the machine-gun. He stopped next to Mac. Mac leaned in towards him to more easily communicate.

"You see where those tracers are comin' from?" The Ranger poked his head above the wall, his eyes tracing the stream of tracer fire back to their source. He lowered himself back down and nodded.

"Good, I need fire on that position." Mac said. The gunner once again nodded, flicking out the bipod on the M60. He set the feet of the bipod on top of the wall, firing with short, controlled bursts. Mac stayed behind the wall, helping feed the belt into the gun. By this point more men had found defensive positions, and now the Southern forces were laying down returning fire on the jungle.

[State of Imperial Russia]

Vietnam was Hell, there's no better way to put it...

Toporek stepped out of the M35 2½-ton cargo truck just outside of Firebase Whitworth, with him others in his regiment. He slung his Ithaca M37 over his shoulder and continued his trek towards the base. He'd heard that some of the best would be here, but those were all rumours anyways. Why not put them closer to the front? It didn't matter. They were all equal in this shithole.

The sheer scale of the firebase didn't surprise him. He'd seen pictures of it before and had been stationed in a larger one before. Somewhere not too far from here. He settled down and rested against a wall, lighting a cigarette and closing his eyes. He hadn't slept for quite a while. It wasn't safe to sleep in the field, not in the slightest. You never knew when Charlie would creep up beside you and plunge his blade into your throat, all while you were dreaming of a better place.

And, as expected, he was found out eventually. Now wasn't the time to rest, it was the time to work. A man in an officer's uniform kicked Toporek and pointed towards two fellow soldiers, each of them repairing this aging tank in-front of him. He wondered when he'd be sent back into the action again, as he was a part of the H Company after all. They weren't mechanics, nor were they the top brass' errand boys. Nevertheless, he knew it'd be soon. All he had to do was wait.

[Futrellia]

Staff Sergeant Arthur Ferry
1 Ranger Squadron - 4 Troop - LRR - New Zealand SASR
Quang Nam, Vietnam
1500 Local Time
June 14th, 1969

---

The immediate rush of adrenaline surged through Arthur's veins as the familiar sounds of fierce fighting erupted across the side Arthur was closest to. There he was, a full plate of hot chow and a cup of water in his hands, his rifle slung across his back and his helmet tucked under his armpit, eagerly walking to the nearest table so he could have his first full meal in 22 hours. When the battle sounded near him, his hands shook as he ducked down, dumping the food, water, and helmet to the ground as he took a knee and grabbed ahold of his L1A1 SLR. "Fucking bastards." He mumbled under his breath as he pushed forward, pushing past a few empty crates that were used to bring in components that were used in supplying the base with hot food rather than the usual C-Rations that were distributed to the troops on base, usually one or two a day, depending on their duties.

After a bit of running across the base, he came across a burned out emplacement and beyond, allied forces engaging. With a loud groan, Arthur rushed forth, keeping low as he dashed into a sandbag wall, a few Yanks and ARVN Rangers around him. "Hello, boys." He said as he checked his weapon and prepared to engage.

[Herador]

Cpl John Weizmann
Quang Nam, Vietnam
1500 Local Time
June 14th, 1969

---

"Shit." Weiz muttered to himself, tossing his wrench aside before he flopped down on Bill's roof. His left M60 mount had gone down on their last patrol and Whitworth's Motor pool was too busy to unfuck it, leaving the work to Weiz. It wasn't going well. From inside Bill The Sonics started to play as Gene crawled onto the roof from his driver's hatch. He tossed Weiz a beer, a can of some local brew, and leaned up against the .50's mount before taking a long gulp from his own can. Neither man said a word, Gene had Weiz figured out by now and knew that he would want to stew in frustration for a bit before he was ready to talk. Gene was a good buddy. Looking out over the base, Weiz caught a glimpse of a herd of new faces climbing out of a truck, probably the Rangers he had heard were showing up. They sure looked tough.

"You try just hitting it with a hammer yet?"

Weiz sighed and took a drink from his own can. "I want to fix it Gene, not fuck it up worse." Sitting bolt upright as the sound and vibration hit him, Weiz rubbed his forehead angrily as the M60 started to move. Gene, hammer in hand, gave him a pearly grin.

"Hammer always works, man."

Weiz flipped Gene off and hopped off the roof and back into Bill, flopping on the TC's seat he leaned back. He hated Vietnam, not the people so much, he couldn't imagine he would act all that different in their shoes, but he sure hated the place. People always talked about how "beautiful" it was, Weiz couldn't see it. It was hot and humid, the jungle was impossible to get through, and the spiders were as big as Cadillac's. Taking another sip of beer, he kicked out at Bill and immediately regretted it. "God damnit." He winced, draining the rest of his can and throwing it out of his hatch. With a sigh, he took a thick packet out from the bag he had hanging from a peg and took out a bundle of photos. Flipping through them Weiz was hit with a pang of homesickness. The first was of Julia that he had gotten with his latest care package from her. The note on the back, written in her loopy cursive, excitedly told him that she had gotten a brand new dress for her first day of classes at UCLA and was all smiles. Weiz smiled back, she wanted to be a Professor of Literature. The next was of Julia's parents, Guadalupe and Emilio, with words of encouragement scribbled on the back. Weiz had always been closer to the Guerrero's than his own family. The thought of his own family put a frown on his face, there wasn't a single letter from them, not that he expected one. Taking out a pen he began to write a letter for Julia, stopping a second later as explosions rocked the camp and Gene dove into the cover of his driver's seat.

"Gene, what the hell?" Weiz called up, flipping on his radio.

"I dunno man!" Gene yelled back, starting the engine. "Shit's fuckin' exploding, what do you want me to say?"

Good point. Putting his helmet on, Weiz switched over to the base's command frequency. Contacts all over, casualties all along the line. "Fuck it." Weiz muttered, flipping over to the intercom. "Gene, drive slow, we're going to try and pick up wounded."

"We're gonna what?"

Climbing into his hatch and racking the slide on his M2, he thumbed the intercom again, "Roll left, ARVN's hit the hardest we're gonna pick up who we can."

---

It sure wasn't good. Medics had already dragged the wounded away from their firing positions with walking wounded following. "Load 'em up doc!" Weiz screamed over the noise before he wheeled his M2 into position, wincing as an RPG hit the defenses in front of him. Most of Bill sat behind the parapet, but Weiz in his cupola sat above it, and he was drawing fire. Pushing down on the paddle, he began to put a steady stream of bursts into the brush where the rocket had come from, chewing the greenery apart. A medic popped up in his lower right, thumb held up. "Time to go Gene, back us up same way we came in."

[Bolslania]

1st Lieutenant Cao Phúc Ðiền
Quang Nam, Vietnam
1504 Local Time
June 14th, 1969

---

Initially things had been going well, the enemy response was delayed as the PAVN soldiers dumped rockets and bullets into the firebase. However, the G.I response did in fact come. Red traces began to arc through the air as enemy machine guns lit into the jungle. Cao ducked into his little ditch as bullets cracked sharply over his head. He peered back over the lip of his cover, popping off a few rounds in the general direction of the G.Is. Soon enough the Americans rolled up in one of their APCs, the gunner firing of bursts into the PAVN positions. The M2 brought with it death and destruction. Cao felt a warm, sticky substance spray across the side of his face, he turned to look at the source, recoiling in horror as the body slumped over next to him no longer had a head. The relatively small trees of the Vietnamese jungle shuddered and fell over as .50 caliber rounds ripped through them like nothing, bringing them down on top of men, who screamed as they were pinned to the ground.

"Địt mẹ!" He swore tucking in his legs and pressing one hand over his helmet as the rounds ripped overhead. After what felt like an eternity the American vehicle began shooting somewhere else. Cao low crawled across the ground, slithering over broken fighters as he made his way to one of his RPG gunners, he slapped the man on the back to get his attention, pointing out the APC. The man nodded, neither bothered trying to speak over the cacophony of gunfire. The RPG gunner slid a rocket down the tube, unfortunately it was only an HE round, they had used all their AP rounds in the TET offensive. The gunner sighted in on the APC as it fired more bursts into the PAVN positions. It appeared as if they were trying to load wounded into it.

The APC began shooting at them again just as the RPG shot out of the tube. Its trajectory affected by the sudden jolt of the shaken gunner, it bounced off the corner of the vehicle, slamming right into the formation of the American Rangers who'd just unloaded from a truck.

---

1st Lieutenant Mạc Hòa Thái
Quang Nam, Vietnam
1500 Local Time
June 14th, 1969

---

Another rocket soared right over his head, arcing off of the American APC that had rolled up to assist and slamming into a group of American Rangers. Blood and body parts erupted from the formation, men screaming as their limbs had been scored or out right ripped off by shrapnel.

Toporek, while personally uninjured, was now pinned under the body of PFC Lewis Riggs. Riggs was short an arm and a heartbeat. Mac peeled his eyes away from the horrific sight and sighted in on the trees. He fired at any movement he saw, that being the best he could do given the heavy concealment that the Charlies were shooting from. He ducked behind cover as green tracers slammed into the sandbags, dropping his expended mag and slamming a fresh one in. Looking to his left and right all he saw was men laying on the ground, blood soaking into the packed earth. Those who weren't hit were braced up against the sandbags, returning fire sporadically. Mac looked over as he was joined by one of the Aussie SASR guys.

"Welcome to the party." He said, borrowing a phrase he'd heard used by American counterparts. He poked back out of cover, catching a glimpse of a PAVN helmet. He drew a bead on it, firing off a spree of quick shots. He saw the helmet fly into the air, signaling a hit. He sank back down, grinning maliciously.

"Ha, got you fucker." He muttered to himself as the fighting raged around him.

[Futrellia]

Staff Sergeant Arthur Ferry
1 Ranger Squadron - 4 Troop - LRR - New Zealand SASR
Quang Nam, Vietnam
1500 Local Time
June 14th, 1969

---

"So this is what a party in Vietnam looks like." Arthur said as he rose up, positioned his rifle upon the mounds of dirt flung up around their cover and fired a quick six rounds out before quickly reeling back, an enemy round impacting the dirt only inches from his rifle, forcing him to duck back down. "I fuckin' hate it."

Though the APC full of Yanks had just taken a bad hit and the scene was gory, Arthur did his best to avoid looking over at it, even just to check if there were survivors. In his mind, it was the duty of Medics to take care of that situation, not him. He could hear the screams and the responses of other personnel around the site that saw it, but Arthur remained away from it. "Avoid taking in what you can't fix, focus on your closest problem." He repeated it to himself many times during his training and after when he'd been deployed to Malaysia. He took it to heart in this regard, focusing on avoiding taking a bullet to the brain and staying combat effective.

He rose once more, his movements quicker than before, releasing a burst into whatever his mind recognized as exposed flesh from the enemy's side. Arthur ducked back down and scanned the area around him. "Where's the rest of our boys?!" Yelled Arthur.

[Herador]

Cpl John Weizmann
Quang Nam, Vietnam
June 14th, 1969

---

Below him, a chorus of groans echoed through Bill's hull before the track switched over and Bad Moon Rising came on, Fogerty and Bill's M2 soon covered up the pained cries below Weiz as he swung the .50 back and forth across the tree line as an RPG deflected off the roof next to him leaving a divet in the armor. Cackling with what he assumed was glee, Weiz stood at his full height so his head popped over the armored ring and he lifted a hand into the air, that wonderful digit extended.

"Fuck you, Charlie! Get some you little shits!"

Pushing the paddle down again, he drained the rest of his ammo box before Bill rounded a corner and backed up to Whitworth's aid station. Jumping down, Weiz went to work unloading the wounded from his troop bay, stopping only to wipe the blood from his hands and gore from his boots.

"Come on man, I just cleaned this thing!" Gene cried out from his driver's seat, looking behind him for the first time.

Weiz ignored him as he passed over the last wounded man, a Ranger with a hole torn out of his gut who was so small Weiz could carry him like a child, over to the medics and pausing only to look at a news crew filming them. Had they caught Bill's whole run? One of the crew looked at Weiz with horror, he must have looked like a madman covered in blood and smiling. Weiz shrugged back, America wanted to see what war was like? Fuck 'em, this was it apparently. Climbing back into his TC position he reloaded the M2 and gave the order, they were going back in. The plan was the same as last time, drive along the line, collect the wounded, and lay down the heaviest ordinance that Whitworth could offer at the moment as they went. Rounds pinged into the armor around him as Weiz fired, his bursts became less controlled and his taunts louder, he wanted Charlie to aim at him and not the boys below him.

[Kyraina]

Sgt Wesley Knight
Quang Nam, Vietnam
June 14th, 1969

The Truck known as Knightwatch had just loaded up on ammo to lead a route clearance patrol, when the firebase came under attack. Lombardi climbed into the driver's seat. While Knight, Johnson, and Ramirez climbed up and over into the protected box. The truck started up and the box was filled with the noise of the 4 M2s being loaded hot. Knight grabbed his mic and hit the mic, as Lombardi drove to the gate and where the ambush had started from.

Knightwatch: <<BIll, come in Bill. This is Knightwatch. We are coming to join the fire and draw their fire. I repeat we are coming to join the party., We will becoming from behind and to your right side so watch your fire.>>

As the Gun truck rolled up by the APC, Lombardi, positioned it in a way that that the twin fifty on the back, and the left side Minigun and Fifty could be used to take on the ambush but not in a way to to be to close to the M113 called Bill, nor to be in Bill's line of fire, Nor was Bill in Knightwatch line of fire. Wesley jumped on the Single fifty on the front left corner, Johnson on the mini, and Ramirez on the Twin fifty and started firing into the underbrush from where the underbrush, where the enemy tracers and RPGS were coming from.

---

SSGT Elmo "Black Bear" Bridges
Quang Nam, Vietnam
June 14th, 1969

The 4 man Combat control team under the command of Black Bear jumped up from their desks, and ran to grab their gear and radios, and to the armory to grab their weapons, and ran to the side of the base was being ambushed. They ran and got into a defensive position and started to fire into the enemy positions, and could hear and see the fire coming from the guntruck called Knightwatch and the APC called Bill.

Black Bear: "Johnson, go to the ATC Tower and coordinate with them. I'll get on the horn to Odin's eye, Smith get on the horn to Da Nang, and Wilson keep watch over us."

The 3 men with Black Bear jumped into their actions, with Johnson sprinting off to the ATC Tower, Wilson firing off his M14 on semi auto, and Black Bear and Smith getting down and getting on their radios.

Black Bear:: <<Odin's Eye, Odin's Eye, This is Lamochattee Actucal at Firebase Whitworth, I Repeat this is Lamochattee Actual at Firebase Whitworth. Firebase Whitworth is under attack by enemy unmounted troops, and we need assistance. What have you got for us?>>

Odin's Eye: <<We read you loud and clear. We Have a AC-119K on station waiting to do a TIC mission. We can have them there in 5 mikes. Not Much we can give you, unless you can get ahold of Da Nang.>>

Black Bear: <<Already on it. We will take that Gunship Odin's eye, send them our way. >>

Odin's Eye:<<Sending them your way. Their callsign is Spooky 13.>>

Black Bear: <<Copy that Odin's Eye, Lamochattee Actual Out.>>

When Wilson popped back down, Black Bear popped up and fired off his M16A1 in Semiauto at where the enemy fire is coming from, and then popped back down into cover.

A few minutes later Smith joined them in firing at the enemy.

Black Bear: "I got us a AC-119K, Smith you get us anything?"

Smith: "Da Nang is sending us a Couple Broncos. Who's going to be on CCT for this. You?"

Black Bear: "Yeah ill take it. You and Wilson just had ATC Last night."

Spooky 13: Lamochattee Actual, Lamochattee Actual. This Spooky 13, I repeat this is Spooky 13. We are inboad for a TIC mission, Nine Line over?>>

Black Bear: Spooky 13, this Lamochattee Actual. We would be Marking Enemies now with Red Smoke but Estimated position of enemy is 200 Meters from Firebase Whitworth, in the trees, and surround the base. Enemy foot count is unknown. Once you are in the area it is weapons hot.>>

Spooky 13: <<Copy that Lamochattee, Stay alive on us.>>

Wilson and Smith looked at Black Bear and he nodded at them.

Black Bear: "I need yall on the Southern and western sides of the base. If you see Johnson, tell him to go to the eastern side of the base."

The two men nodded and ran off to perform their duties and about that time another radio call came over it but Wilson answered it, and gave the the radio call the same info Black Bear had, before Black Bear could answer.

A few minutes Later the AC-119K showed up over head, and started to fire into the tree line 200meters to the north in its distinctive pylon turn, while the two OV-10 Broncos started to make strafing and rocket runs on the south, east, and west sides of the base. Black bear would pop up from time to time to fire his gun into enemy postions