Laughing and talking as they put the bloody battleground of Plei Me behind them, the retreating North Vietnamese column was breaking every rule of si lent guerrilla withdrawal. After all, only three more miles of moonlit jungle trails lay between them and "neutral" Cambodia, where they could rest and lick their wounds. When the Reds reached an open patch of elephant grass, their tactical sins caught up with them: grenades and rifle fire cut their laughter short, and steel pellets from ten carefully planted anti-personnel mines chopped down the center of the column.
The ambush had been neatly laid...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
