Short Story by: B Douglas Slack
Genre: War and Military
Roger rolled onto his side and flapped the thin sheet covering him. He knew it was going to be a hot, humid day just like all the rest he’d lived through the last nine months. “Another day, another buck two ninety-eight”, he muttered, kicking the covering off and sitting on the edge of his rack. He was a tall, thin young man who had yet to see his twentieth birthday which fell just three days before Christmas – only twenty days off.
Tossing his pillow at his hooch-mate and making a direct hit, he laughed. “Yo! Snitch, my man. Time to hit the deck.”
The mound on the rack opposite stirred, but didn’t comply. “Dodger, if you don’t stop doing that every morning I’m gonna severely hurt you. I’m in pain.”
“Well, if you’d laid off the Jack after the movie, you wouldn’t be such a grouse. Come on. We launch in two hours.”
“I believe I’ll have my breakfast here in bed. Please inform the staff.”
Taking two steps across the wooden floor, Roger lifted the end of Snitch’s bunk two inches and let if fall. “Raus! Raus! Time for roll call!” He shouted in a fake German accent.
They had seen “Stalag 17” at the base theater the night before and then gone down to the crossroads to do some serious drinking. Snitch, whose real name was Mitch (which he hated), had brought his own bottle of Jack Daniels Black and did a creditable job of emptying it.
Both men were crew members of PBR 32 of the Mobile Riverine Force. Roger was a Gunners Mate Second and manned the forward twin 50-cal machine gun mount which sat on the main deck forward of the coxswain’s flat of their craft. Mitch was a Machinists Mate Second and spent most of his time in the much hotter engine room.
Their captain was a First Class Bosun’s Mate with the unlikely name of Delbert Spicer. He was called Captain (or skipper) aboard ship but Grumpy elsewhere. The last member of the crew was a fresh-faced kid from Alabama, also a Boatswain’s Mate, albeit a Third Class, named Wally (Walleye) Hall.
Another day in their personal hell had dawned just the hour before and the temperature was already above 85 and climbing steadily making everything they touched damp and clammy. Gradually coming alive, the two of them left their Quonset hut hooch and headed for some morning chow.
“Hey guys. Wait up!” Called Walleye from behind.
They stopped and Roger waved the kid on. “Come on. We ain’t got all day.”
Their breakfast consisted of powdered eggs, reconstituted milk, and manhole covers disguised as pancakes, The Vietnamese cooks had never mastered the art of adding enough baking powder to the mix to make them rise. At the side of the pancakes was something unidentifiable that tasted of bacon.
“At least the bug juice is good.” Remarked Roger. “Apple-Lime, I believe. A good vintage, soft on the pallet, and reminiscent of old sweat socks soaked in vinegar.”
“Please,” groaned Snitch. “I’m trying to eat here.”
“So where will we patrol today? Anyone know?” Asked Wally.”
“Unknown, Walleye. We might go towards Hua Binh, or maybe a bit further east. But, I’m betting we go downriver.” Opined Snitch.
“Aw, man. Nothing ever happens that way.”
“That is a very good thing, Walleye.” Said Roger. “I’m getting short and I don’t want any trouble.”
“Short? You ain’t short until you go under double-digits. If I remember correctly, you got over a hundred ten left.”
“Yeah, but, just the same, I’m gonna be real careful out there. Eat up and we’ll head for the boat.”
They, along with the crews of other boats, left the mess facility and gravitated down to the docks, filtered aboard their own boats and vegan readying for their patrols. Clouds of diesel smoke appeared at the stern of the thirty-two boat as Snitch fired up the twin 180 horsepower Detroit diesels and let them idle as they warmed up. Roger settled down behind the twin 50’s in their deck tub and began examining them for defects, knowing their survival could very well depend on them operating properly. Lifting the belts of ammo from their steel boxes, he made ready to thread them to his guns once they left the pier. Behind him, he could hear the Skipper and a chair-warmer poring over a map. He tried his best to hear where they were headed, but the conversation was too soft.
The chair-warmer picked up his briefing materials, gave the Skipper a jaunty wave, and stepped ashore. His crew gravitated towards him unbidden. “So, where we headed, Skipper?” Asked Walleye.
“Us, 47, 33, and 55 will be heading downriver towards Tan Thanh on interdiction duty. Two-boat teams. We’re paired with 22 because the skipper is a newbie. He’s supposed to stick with me. Roger, I want you to help me keep an eye on him and let me know if he drifts off-station.”
“Okay, Skipper. Can do.”
The radio sputtered and then came alive with the order to move out. Motioning for Walleye to cast off, the captain eased the throttles a little and they began to move through the brown water trailing dirt gouged up from the bottom with their pump-jets. Clearing the small lagoon, all four boats formed up into a trailing line and cruised downriver towards their patrol area.
Roger had now charged his guns and was ready for the word to test them. When it came, he gave a short burst into the muddy embankment to port. There was firing from the other three boats also and then the jungle noises resumed.
“Think we’ll see anything, Dodger?” Asked Walleye from under the brim of his too-large helmet.
“Yeah. Probably a few sampans and rafts. All in a day’s work, my man.”
They cruised slowly along, two boats on one side of the river and two boats on the other. They kept a decent distance between themselves so as to present four individual targets instead of two pairs. Bunched together, a lucky mortar or rocket round could take them both out. The further from base they got, the more aware they were of their surroundings.
“Skipper!” Called Roger. “Twenty-two is drifting center-channel.”
“I see him.” Captain Spicer picked up his mic and hailed the other boat, telling him to get back over to the side.
Up ahead was a sharp turn in the river and all four boats slowed to just maintaining steerageway as they crept around it. Seeing nothing immediately ahead, the 22 boat began picking up speed towards a distant group of four sampans. Roger noted 22’s movement towards them and alerted the Skipper again.
“Damn it.” Groused the captain. “I told you to hold up, 22!” He yelled into the mic.
Just as the boat ahead of them passed between two sampans, there was a blinding flash of light and an accompanying blast of smoke. Pieces of the boat’s bow flew lazily through the air and began landing on the water amid large splashes.
“Mines! Mines ahead!” Shouted Roger. “Come right, Skipper!”
Depressing the triggers, his 50-caliber began spitting rounds at the nearest sampan. As their boat turned, the side-mounted M-60, manned by Walleye, did the same. Hit by their fire, four figures rose up and fell overboard as their craft was riddled and began to sink.
In rapid succession, three mortar rounds impacted in a direct line between 22 boat and Roger’s boat. He was thrown to the left as Spicer heeled to starboard and gunned his engines. The fourth round hit exactly where they would have been if they’d kept going straight. It was a perfectly planned ambush.
Following SOP, the two remaining boats opened up their throttles and began circling back to assist the two under fire. A rocket hissed from the far bank, but went wild and rose almost vertically before plunging down into the water with no explosion.
“Xin l?i, Charlie. Didn’t keep your powder dry!” Shouted Roger to the invisible rocketeer on shore as he kept on firing.
A devastating blast erupted behind him and the breath flew from his lungs as a second rocket impacted amidships. He tumbled out of the gun tub, landing hard on his shoulder and neck. The last thing he remembered was Snitch shouting something at him as he attempted to drag his body overboard before the boat sank.
Hurt! Oh, how he hurt. His eyes had some sort of covering over them and he couldn’t see. It was quiet – too quiet – and he began to get nervous. “Water,” he croaked.
The tip of a straw slipped past his parched lips and he tried to sip, but ended up taking too much water and coughed. Hurt! His chest hurt. The rest of his body seemed encased in something he couldn’t identify by feel. Spitting out the straw, he managed “where” before darkness enveloped him again.
The next time he woke, his eyes had been uncovered, but his vision had gone fuzzy on him. He blinked and that seemed to help.
He found his voice. “Where. Where am I?” He whispered.
There was movement to his side and the sound of a door opening. Quick footsteps faded away. Time passed, but Roger didn’t know how much until a face appeared over his bed.
“How are you feeling Petty officer Allen?” The face asked. “You’re in the hospital in Saigon.”
“Bad. Hurt all over.”
“Not surprising considering the beating you took. You’ve been in and out for two days.”
“How many?”
“Excuse me? Days?”
“No. How many made it?”
“From your boat, just you and Petty Officer Berger.”
“Snitch made it?”
The face nodded. “Yes. He’s right next to you in the other bed, resting.”
“He got hit?”
“No. He broke his arm badly abandoning ship, but he’s okay. He gave you blood. We set up a transfusion when you weren’t responding to plasma. Good thing you both matched.”
“Nobody else made it?”
“Two of the boats sank, but the crews made it to shore and held on until a slick came in and evacuated them. The other two provided covering fire, driving the Cong off. Now, I want you to lie back and take it easy, Petty Officer. You lost a lot of blood and a good chunk of your right leg when you got blown out of the gun tub.”
Roger lay back, exhausted, trying to comprehend what the face was saying. His right leg? Why couldn’t he feel it? Turning his head to the left, he saw a lump in the bed next to him, the familiar buzz-cut of Snitch’s hair atop his head almost hidden by a sheet.
“Snitch! Yo, man. You awake?”
“I wasn’t until you yelled, man. Whatcha want?” Snitch said, rolling over to face Roger.
“Thanks, man, for what you did. You saved my ass.”
“Nothing you wouldn’t have done for me, Dodger.” He held out his hand.
Roger grasped it and they remained in that position for several minutes. A black hand and a white hand, giving strength to one another in the midst of a war they both hoped they wouldn’t be in much longer.
End
Glossary:
Bug juice --> Flavored powdered drink mix
Chair-warmer --> support group personnel who never go out
Charlie --> Viet Cong guerrillas
Coxswain’s Flat --> Engine and steerage control area
Hooch --> Living quarters, such as a Quonset hut. (Also, Hootch)
Mic --> Radio microphone
Newbie --> Recently arrived from the States
PBR --> Patrol Boat Riverine
Rack --> Bunk, bed
Short --> Nearing time to be sent back to the States.
Slick --> Unarmed helicopter
SOP --> Standard Operating Procedure
Xin l?i --> “Sorry” in Vietnamese
© Copyright 2025 B Douglas Slack. All rights reserved.
Regular reviews are a general comments about the work read. Provide comments on plot, character development, description, etc.
In-line reviews allow you to provide in-context comments to what you have read. You can comment on grammar, word usage, plot, characters, etc.
Tom,
I like a good war story and I'll give this one an A+. It kept my interest right till the end. Well done and smoothly written. The dialogue was done quite well. A really good story about an average day in an endeavor where no day is average. I'm glad I read it!
_sycamore
Author
Reply
Thank you, Sycamore. This particular story was related to me second-hand from the hospital waiting room in Saigon. I was there to visit another of my friends (hives, of all things) and got involved in this story from a crew-member of one of the other boats.
Tom
OK. Here's what I've got.
Excellent in integrating the lingo of the time and military into the story. However, this is aimed at non-military, so add these details as they come up instead of waiting to the end to read the abbreviations. Ex: Another buck two ninety-eight (commas, btw, ALWAYS go before the quotation marks so the punctuation would be (,"). After the numbers, add a sentence in italics to say, 'Only year plus two hundred and ninety days left.'
I would suggest adding another sensory detail to the first paragraph. Maybe that the mosquitoes weren't that bad last night. Set your stage early when you pull people back in time.
He was a tall, thin young man who had yet to see his twentieth birthday (you have a head-hop here. First, we are in Roger's head as he mentions knowing that it was going to be a hot day. Then, you mention a description from an outsider's perspective in the line I listed first. Pick one perspective. Suggest that you stay in Roger's head and mention that the bunk is too small (as a way to show he is tall.) Then have him slide off the rack without a sound-making it clear that he doesn't weigh as much as Snitch.
I would ditch the Stalag 17 mention. It doesn't add much. The purpose of this paragraph is to say there was a lot of drinking the night before.
Both men were crew members of PBR 32 of the Mobile Riverine Force. Roger was a Gunners Mate Second and manned the forward twin 50-cal (This is an order issue. Put this paragraph where the two men are getting ready to set foot in the boat.) First we're with the men as they wake, then you describe the crew (two who don't matter because they die and don't say anything), then you go back to the hot day and the 'personal hell.' Organizing this differently will increase the punch.
Just a hint. You could eliminate a lot of 'had' references before your verbs to increase immediacy. Ex: Another day in their personal hell had dawned. Also, thin out your adverbs. Climbing steadily could just be climbing without any loss of emphasis. Save your adverbs for times of stress and combat. This gives those parts more emphasis.
Next, the purpose of this story is to emphasize that teamwork and brotherhood spans the boundaries of color and different backgrounds. Therefore, mention that Snitch is black in the beginning. Also give a better description of Mitch. Tall, thin or fat, muscles or built like Roger? Since this character matters to the point of the story, you need to give him more wordage to increase the reader's involvement. Don't keep his color a secret.
Loved the foreshadowing as people discuss the route and say that nothing happens that way.
Just as the boat ahead of them passed between two sampans, there was a blinding flash of light and an accompanying blast of smoke (I'm not clear if this is 22's boat or not)
What is a sampan? Give a description at the same time as you use the word. I got nothing.
“Xin l?i, Charlie. (This is worded as a question, so there should be a question mark after Charlie.)
“Snitch! Yo, man. You awake?”
“I wasn’t until you yelled, man.(You are missing a chance at humor here. Have Roger throw a pillow at Snitch just like in the quansit hut. Then repeat the conversation just as if Snitch were hungover again.)
Last paragraph needs a bit more punch. Separate the sentences to lengthen the reading instead of just saying that 'they remain in that position for several minutes.' Let the world pass around the two friends. Go into the sounds of the hospital or conversations of others who are worse hurt. Then have Roger see the contrast of black and white skin, realizing that in a world of yellow, color doesn't matter any more.
Last thought...
There is a head hop when you detail what Snitch hopes about the war ending. Until this point, we've never been in Snitch's perspective. I suggest that you keep that rule going.
Hope this helped. Although I picked, I have to compliment you on the material. You did an excellent job of conveying the military perspective and the routine/rote actions before the ambush. Good job. NJC is right that you have material worth posting on the points-site to get better exposure.
All my best,
A
Author
Reply
Amy:
Excellent in integrating the lingo of the time and military into the story. However, this is aimed at non-military, so add these details as they come up instead of waiting to the end to read the abbreviations. Ex: Another buck two ninety-eight (commas, btw, ALWAYS go before the quotation marks so the punctuation would be (,"). After the numbers, add a sentence in italics to say, 'Only year plus two hundred and ninety days left.'
[I always add commas, when necessary, before the quotes. That one slipped past me.]
I would suggest adding another sensory detail to the first paragraph. Maybe that the mosquitoes weren't that bad last night. Set your stage early when you pull people back in time.
He was a tall, thin young man who had yet to see his twentieth birthday (you have a head-hop here. First, we are in Roger's head as he mentions knowing that it was going to be a hot day. Then, you mention a description from an outsider's perspective in the line I listed first. Pick one perspective. Suggest that you stay in Roger's head and mention that the bunk is too small (as a way to show he is tall.) Then have him slide off the rack without a sound-making it clear that he doesn't weigh as much as Snitch.
[Not sure I'd call it a 'head-hop'. It is more of a simple description of how he appeared. I do agree that it could be changed around as you suggest and will take a look at it in that light.]
I would ditch the Stalag 17 mention. It doesn't add much. The purpose of this paragraph is to say there was a lot of drinking the night before.
[The Stalag 17 reference is essential because the 'Raus' shouting permeated the movie and the reference wouldn't be understood by anyone who didn't have this memory jog to remind them of wher the quote came from.]
Both men were crew members of PBR 32 of the Mobile Riverine Force. Roger was a Gunners Mate Second and manned the forward twin 50-cal (This is an order issue. Put this paragraph where the two men are getting ready to set foot in the boat.) First we're with the men as they wake, then you describe the crew (two who don't matter because they die and don't say anything), then you go back to the hot day and the 'personal hell.' Organizing this differently will increase the punch.
[I had to describe the crew, at least in general terms, because they DO matter. They are part of the 32-boat and take part in the firefight. It is an order thing, though, and I'll take a look at that.]
Just a hint. You could eliminate a lot of 'had' references before your verbs to increase immediacy. Ex: Another day in their personal hell had dawned. Also, thin out your adverbs. Climbing steadily could just be climbing without any loss of emphasis. Save your adverbs for times of stress and combat. This gives those parts more emphasis.
[I tend to do this, and am slowly trying to break myself of the habit. When I write, I may write as much as five or six paragraphs in as little as ten minutes (I type around 120-130 WPM). Then, I go back and edit what I've written. That's the main reason the adverbs stay where they are; mostly because I find it reads better that way, no other reason.]
Next, the purpose of this story is to emphasize that teamwork and brotherhood spans the boundaries of color and different backgrounds. Therefore, mention that Snitch is black in the beginning. Also give a better description of Mitch. Tall, thin or fat, muscles or built like Roger? Since this character matters to the point of the story, you need to give him more wordage to increase the reader's involvement. Don't keep his color a secret.
[I disagree here, Amy. Throughout the story, I took pains not to mention color so the story's end had more impact. I think punching up Snitch's physical side could be done, though. I'll work on that.]
Loved the foreshadowing as people discuss the route and say that nothing happens that way.
[I did the same thing after being told I had to go TAD (Temporary Attached Duty) to a communications van stuck in the superstructure of the USS Turner Joy. This is one of the ships that got involved in what became "The Tonkin Gulf Incident" on August 4th, 1964. That was the day it got real.]
Just as the boat ahead of them passed between two sampans, there was a blinding flash of light and an accompanying blast of smoke (I'm not clear if this is 22's boat or not)
[I agree. I needed to identify which boat blew up.]
What is a sampan? Give a description at the same time as you use the word. I got nothing.
[Sorry. I thought 'everyone' knew what a sampan was, so I didn't include it in the glossary.]
“Xin l?i, Charlie. (This is worded as a question, so there should be a question mark after Charlie.)
“Snitch! Yo, man. You awake?”
“I wasn’t until you yelled, man.(You are missing a chance at humor here. Have Roger throw a pillow at Snitch just like in the quansit hut. Then repeat the conversation just as if Snitch were hungover again.)
[At the time, Roger is in no shape to throw anything except his voice. He'd just recovered from surgery and it practically tied down by tubes and such.]
Last paragraph needs a bit more punch. Separate the sentences to lengthen the reading instead of just saying that 'they remain in that position for several minutes.' Let the world pass around the two friends. Go into the sounds of the hospital or conversations of others who are worse hurt. Then have Roger see the contrast of black and white skin, realizing that in a world of yellow, color doesn't matter any more.
[Great idea here, Amy. I think a bit more here would help a lot.]
Last thought...
There is a head hop when you detail what Snitch hopes about the war ending. Until this point, we've never been in Snitch's perspective. I suggest that you keep that rule going.
[Yes. I realize that now. A change should be in order here.]
Hope this helped. Although I picked, I have to compliment you on the material. You did an excellent job of conveying the military perspective and the routine/rote actions before the ambush. Good job. NJC is right that you have material worth posting on the points-site to get better exposure.
[I lived through a lot of it in my twenty years in the navy, Amy. However, had I used completely authentic dialog, there would have been many f-bombs in it and this would have turned off a lot of readers. The use of nicknames is almost universal in the services even up to this day.
There was a primary reason I put the glossary at the end. Some of the terms would have been spoilers as to what was to come in the story. Plus, every military novel I've ever read that included a glossary put it at the back. Almost all writers do. If readers are interested enough in what the term means, then peeking at the glossary is allowed - and they know right where to find it.
The "Xin l?i" refernce happened because TNBW doesn't allow a wide range of fonts and that character depicted by the "?" should have been an 'o' with a diacritial caret over it. The phrase is Vietnamese and is stated as a declarative as in "sorry 'bout that, Charlie" in common GI usage at the time. In my current novel, I have trouble with Japanese characters not appearing so I just take a screenshot of the text, doctor it in a photo editor, upload it to my site, and then refer to it as a 'picture' in the novel. Seems to work well.
I am very happy you enjoyed the story, Amy. Please drop by any time. As for posting in a points group, I may have to stay where I am at the moment because the accumulation of huge amounts of points necessary to post in the "payware" group just isn't possible in my case as I am not accumulating them nearly fast enough.
~Tom
I see plenty of strengths and zero flaws here, Tom:-) This was an exciting read with great dialogue, believability, great pacing--hell! e'thing! I 'spect anything you put your hand to will come off just fine, Tom. I encourage you to write whatever is in your heart, whatever you want or need to share.
Thanks much for sharing this, Tom!
Mike
Author
Reply
Wow, Mike. Thanks for the praise. I've got lots of stories banging around my head. On my correspondence computer I have a directory with around 70 sub-directories of various novels, short stories, and ideas. I like to enter random search text into Google Images and see what pops up. I get a lot of ideas just by looking at a picture and wondering how/why/what caused it to be taken - then build a story around it.
~Tom
sycamore flynn