" Good morning, Mr. Buddha! It’s a beautiful day to die!”

Rail passed me a joint after I climbed on board the duce & a half and settled in. As I took a hit, the convoy started moving. “What are we hauling?” I asked, as I loaded a magazine into my M-16. “Don’t worry about it. You won’t feel a thing.”

Koontz smiled at Rail as we picked up speed. I looked around. On my left were cases of 105 shells. On my right were boxes of white phosphorous shells. I was riding on a freaking ammo truck. We rolled through the village of Cam Lo. The other convoy was waiting for us on the side of Route 9. We joined up and headed west towards Camp Carroll. A lot of the truck drivers flew their state flag from the cab of their truck. We must have looked like some kind of United Nations convoy as we rolled along creating a cloud of dust that you could see for miles. West of Camp Carroll an NVA machine gun crew and a mortar crew set up on top of a hill and waited. They ate some cold rice and watched the red dust cloud getting closer. The second convoy was glad to turn off and head through the gate at Camp Carroll as we rolled on towards the small Marine base called the Rock Pile. The rules of the road were the same for Marine convoys in the DMZ in 1968 as they were for wagon trains in 1868 traveling through Geronimo’s back yard: No matter what happens, keep moving. Don’t stop for anything! As the convoy crested a hill and approached a bridge that crossed a small river the NVA sprang into action. Over a small hill we drove around a truck that was stopped in the middle of the road and on fire. The windshield was full of bullet holes. There was no sign of the driver or anyone else. A large spout of water rose up about fifty feet as the first mortar round landed in the river. The next round hit beside the bridge as we began to cross over. I don’t know why the NVA didn’t just blow the bridge before we got to it. I am just glad we made it across in one piece. We kept rolling and watching the countryside for something to shoot at. We saw no real targets in the rolling clouds of dust. We drove into the deserted village of Ca Lu just before dark. Koontz, Rail, and I picked out a house with a good roof and moved in. First we checked for trip wires and booby traps. We broke out some C-rations and cooked supper. After dark it began to rain hard. Our humble home did not leak a drop. We turned in early. Sometime in the night, Koontz had to pee. It was still raining and he tried to put it off as long as possible. Finally he got up and stumbled out into the darkness. While he was pissing, Rail got up and pulled the plug on Koontz’s air mattress. He got back under his own blanket and waited. Koontz was getting soaked as he tried to pee faster. Finally, he stumbled back inside and collapsed on his nearly flat air mattress. He knew instantly that he had been fucked. “Goddammit…Motherfucker! When I figure out who pulled this plug, I’m gonna kick their ass! I know it was you McLane!” I didn’t say a word. Koontz sat down and started blowing his air mattress back up. Rail and I tried our best to laugh without making a sound. The rain outside helped to hide our chuckles.