Humping the Nam

Humping in the Nam

By Retired U S Army Staff Sergeant Daniel Dobbs

What those who never humped the jungles or rice paddies in Vietnam can’t see is the, filthy exhausting sweaty dirt and grime from crushed bugs and cuts and scratches from thorns that get infected with in hours. The shock of hearing a twig break, the snap of a safety being changed to fire or a click of a booby trap before it goes off. The anger from “wait-a-minute” vines tugging on you and holding you up while the rest of your team is walking away.

Sleeping on rain soaked ground with all kinds of insects, leeches and snakes crawling on you, biting and sucking your blood, not to mention the occasional rat, the size of medium dogs and worst of all… tigers. Hoping the guy who relieved you is awake. You turn your head and look at him in the darkness and he looks down at you and gives you a smile letting you know he is awake and has your back. Hearing a mortar fire in the distance and hoping the round isn’t coming your way. Lying there when B-52s are bombing a few clicks away and vibrating the very ground you are on.

Hearing the welcome reassuring sound of that Huey and the outgoing artillery fire knowing they are out there when and if you need them.

Always expecting another tremendous explosion behind you like the one that took the life of the soldier that I didn’t even know, as he was trying to help me. I never had the chance to thank you or say, “I’m sorry!” I carry the scares both physically and emotionally from when you died. I still see your blood on my hands and hear your last grasp of air as God took you to be with Him, while I held your head in my hands.

Seeing a ghostly figure in the early morning fog moving in front of you. Is that a rifle in his hands? Am I seeing things? “Lord, please don’t let him hear my heart pounding in my ears.” Gotta wake the guys but I don’t dare move, can’t move. Should I shoot? He sees me. He is looking into my eyes. He is bringing his AK-47 up. I see the flash as his rifle goes off. DAMN, another bad dream. It’s been over fifty years, when will the nightmares stop coming? Every night when the lights go off, I’m back there with my buddies before their names were etched on that wall.

I have seen the elephant

I love you brothers

Mississippi 31 OUT!