DeltaDaze

PREFACE
It was early on in my tour, after Tet but before the infamously stupid roadrun on Highway 15 that decimated the first platoon.
Bravo company was situated back in Bearcat doing S&Ds and APs. We had a new platoon sergeant, a joyless fuck that replaced Sergeant Butler who was a good man and a human being.
I noticed that my fatigues were ratty and had no replacements for them. I decided to prowel around other hootches to see if I could conjure up the milk of human kindness.
I found myself in another platoon's hootch (occupied) and noticed a small pile of fatigues on the floor. I asked the members of the platoon if I could have them and they gave me the go ahead. They told me that the guy who owned them had DEROSed back to The World and had no need of them. I noticed that the name on the fatigues was Escher. I gathered them up and departed. I put the fatigues on and they were a perfect fit although they did clash with my pumps.

New clothes, new person

I noticed that my fatigues were ratty and had no replacements for them. I decided to prowel around other hootches to see if I could conjure up the milk of human kindness.
I found myself in another platoon's hootch (occupied) and noticed a small pile of fatigues on the floor. I asked the members of the platoon if I could have them and they gave me the go ahead. They told me that the guy who owned them had DEROSD back to The World and had no need of them. I noticed that the name on the fatigues as Escher. I gathered them up and departed. I put the fatigues on and they were a perfect fit although they did clash with my pumps.
As was his wont, the good sergeant would have us fall out and he would assign us our assignments; who was going on ambush and who was going on search and destroys. My name was not called and then I noticed my new name, Escher. For the better part of a week I found myself becoming well-acquainted with the ice cream truck and the big EM Club. It was quite lovely and I loved my hiatus from the drudgery and annoyance of patrols. After a week, the platoon sergeant decided to confront me. He asked me what my name was and being a truthful lad, I told him Driessler. He asked me why I didn't tell him and I told him it was because that the big silly never asked me. Oh! Boys and Girls! He huffed and he puffed and he tried to blow Snoopy's house down but the Big Bad Wolf could only threaten Snoopy with, "I'm going to have you sent up North where the fighting is going on." I said that was okay. What I should have done was go camp, put my hand on my hip and tell him in my best gay impersonation, ‘Well! You don't have to get so huffy about it’ and flounce away.

Lights, Camera, Action

As fate would have it, our CO had the brilliant idea of how to incur punishing losses on the wily enemy. He sent out one platoon down Highway 15 at night. They made minimal contact. The next night he sent another platoon down the same road at the same time. They made contact and got a couple of kills. It was first platoon's turn in the barrel the next night. Our Napoleon of the East had the rest of the company in a ready reaction position in case we were hit. What the Emperor did not think of was that the damage would have been already inflicted, ready reaction force or not. Well, by golly, we went down Highway 15 and the enemy was loaded for bear. They knocked out two tracks with RPGs and took out around fifteen members of the first platoon. The ready reaction force did show up and put out a hell fire amount of ammo that did cause significant casualties to the enemy but it was tit for tat. It was a sorry trade-off, two APCs and 15 troopers for an undetermined amount of enemy. My nemesis was wounded badly and I heard that he lost an eye. Old Grumpy never managed to make good his threat to send me where "there was real combat going on" and you know something, I was real happy to stay where the unreal combat was taking place. So sergeant, wherever you may be, ‘Surprise, Surprise, Surprise! Golllleeee, Sergeant Carter! We had beaucoup little people too!’