On Mines
The mines could be either anti-personnel or anti-tank. An anti-tank mine would not go off from the weight of a human stepping on it. Later in the flatlands, ChickenMan saw a a truck trip one of those mines. The truck went up twenty feet in the air.
We were down at the bottom of the hill by 7:00 that morning, waiting for the mine sweepers to get ready to go.
We walked down the road heading north towards the Rock Pile in a squad size wedge with one M-60 machine gun crew and two men with mine sweepers walking point.
We cleared the road half way to the Rock Pile where we met up with the mine sweepers from the Rock Pile. I was sure glad we didn’t step on any mines. We sat down on the sided of the road and took about a ten minute smoke break before we headed back to the bridge. Once back at the bridge, we got a resupply of C-rations and some SP supplies which were cigarettes, soap, candy and letter writing gear. It was a bitch carrying all that shit up to the top of the hill. It had started raining while we were getting supplies. By the time we got up to our hootch, I was covered with mud and soaked to my bones.
I crawled into my hootch and warmed up some breakfast of spegetti and meat balls and smoked a couple of cigarettes. I watched an air strike off in the distance.
Nothing happened that night except that I had to sit in the cold rain by my hole because I couldn’t see out in front of my hole from my hootch.
