Best Christmas ever!!! Quang Tri S.Vietnam, 24- 25 Dec 1967. Climbing the old rickety ladder, some crossbars were missing. The cement had been blown off exposing the rusted rerod. I had made this climb numerous times to perform maintenance on a sandbagged 50 where its emplacement had been built with overhead. It was called “the Bunker”. It was atop a shot up water tower. On its roof was where a 50 caliber machine gun, the baddest of the badass machine guns, was “set in”.
This gun, manufactured by John Browning, had been around since the end of WWI. A few changes had been made: its water jacket had been discarded in exchange for a Quick Change Heavy Barrel, putting its weight at 84 Lbs, the lightweight version weighed 60 lbs. Along with this QC Barrell was a set of gauges used to put a
“headset” on the gun. If the barrel was screwed in tightly to the receiver, the gun could not be fired, so this two piece gauge with 4 settings was used to set the firing head. It seemed to me that I was the only one in our platoon who knew how to put on a headset, using the key that should have been provided with each gun.
A little side story here. During the battle for Hue, a shot-up gun truck pulled up to the MACV compound, where it “died”. Grunts ran out to the truck to get the 50 and ammo off it before it fell into NVA hands. The grunts who were on the truck when it got hit had bailed off to return fire, fighting their way to the MACV compound, which was surrounded by NVA. The grunts informed me that when they were ambushed, the “Gunner” on the 50 fired one round, blowing the Butterfly trigger mechanism into his groin, disabling him and the gun. UH-OH! No headset! He hadn't listened during the “Headset” class! His not knowing had endangered everyone on that
“Deuce ina Half”.
Anyhoo, back to the “tower' where I would spend Christmas Eve and day up on it. I prepared for it meticulously. Anyone who has read any of my stories knows that I'm not a teetotaler. Sent “Boozer” off to the US Army compound for a case of Budweiser, along with some “dinky dou” cigarettes- it wouldn't be Christmas without them!
We had kept the gun clean and dry (another maintenance tip for the M2: Do not oil the barrel,when fired it will send up smoke signals that say HERE I AM! OVER HERE!!) While the rest of our platoon partied at the mess tent, we stood guard. The 50 had been cleaned, headset, fam fired. Our field of fire was north. We were able to see the Quang Tri Airstrip 2 “klics” (kilometers) north. We were to observe the river valley, radio in any movement, and the biggie: “Sir! GUN TOWER NORTH, Request Permission to Fire.” Then wait for response, which was usually a question, WHO? WHAT? WHERE? Usually the “Who” were long gone by the time permission to fire was granted
Anyhoo, I finally let Boozer in on the plan, after a joint and a few Buds to relax. While over at the airstrip, I had run into an old grunt, Bud. He said to watch the sky on Christmas Eve, we're gonna light it up! So I said Boozer, at 11:59 tonight I'm gonna put this 50 on rock an roll, firin' off to the west where we saw a buncha “Gooks”. I'll say the radio was dead! If ya stay up here with me, you're gonna be in trouble. Old “Horse Face” is the Officer of the Day, and he wants to hang my ass. Well fuck it, I'm short, been in this Corps over 4, going out with a bang!
“I'm stayin',” replied Boozer. “What can they do? Cut my hair and send me to Nam? Eat the apple, fuck the Corps.” [NOTE: Only Marines are allowed to say this! If you ain't a Marine and say it, most likely you will get your civilian ass kicked! Yah been warned.]
Anyhoo, after a few more Buds, the rain quit, the sky became dark. At 11:59, looking north, I saw the sky lit up with tracers. Damn! It was the biggest fireworks I had ever seen!! Fire when ready, Boozer! That nasty ass 50 litup the sky, which caused the siren to go off below us! All the cooks, truck drivers, office pogues, and supplymen went running for their bunkers. It was pandemonium below us!
“Merry Fuckin' Christmas,” I yelled!!
”I'm Short! Eat the apple,” Boozer Yelled!
No response from below. After a few more beers, Boozer and I cleaned the 50, stowed the gear, and dropped our empties into the empty water bin below us. In the morning, dismounting the tower, Old Horse Face was waiting below. After reading the UCMJs Article 32, I was recommended to be court-martialed, where I was fined and reduced in rank to PVT. I signed papers that I wouldn't re-enlist. Counting my days to my discharge, what would be called “the Tet Offensive” started. Fighting my last battle, I was promoted to PFC. I went home and was discharged Honorably from the UNITED STATES MARINE CORPS!
EAT THE APPLE! BLESS THE CORPS!!!Rat -tat-tat
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