By David Sherman
A U.S. Marine mixed motion Platoon in Vietnam; a unmarried Marine squad is found in Khung Toi, a Vietnamese village, operating with the preferred Forces -- the neighborhood defense force. jointly, the Marines and PFs shape CAP Whiskey eight. 3 of the Marines, utilizing the nom de guerres of Socrates, Captain Hook, and Sneaky Pete, become involved with a secretive and mysterious venture, assigned to assassinate NVA cadre in villages except their very own. The corporal often called Socrates is disturbed through the undertaking and attempts to go into reverse it, yet unearths not anything yet extra unanswered questions. On one challenge, he and his males locate files detailing a deliberate significant NVA assault on CAP Whiskey eight. The Marines and their Vietnamese opposite numbers slightly have time to arrange for the largest struggle any of them have ever been in.
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Extra resources for The Junkyard Dogs
Not really our business to know how much they've got in the till. " Major Wildroot stuck around long enough for the foundation to be cleaned off enough to determine it wasn't damaged in the fire―if it was, he'd have a job on his hands getting the district chief to come up with the wherewithal to lay a new one. Pain in the ass, that was. After all, the cement and tools were gifts from the American people. It was flat wrong that so many of the local officials would give you such a hard time about where to use them when there was a glaring need and the Marines were ready to help.
Maybe even more than that. Still, the twenty Marines and PFs here could take them, drive them away without the VC getting any food and supplies, kill enough to hurt them badly. Cautiously, careful not to raise up far enough to make a silhouette against the horizon, Socrates lifted his head and shoulders and looked all around. No movement caught his eye, no night shadow seemed out of place. He hadn't expected to see anything, the area around this treeline was too open for anyone to think they could cross it without being spotted, not unless they knew the clouds better than anybody could expect, well enough to be confident the clouds would cast their blackness long enough to get through the open before the clouds rent again.
I'll roll out when we reach them. You keep going and hang a left when you reach Highway One. " "Them" was half a dozen three ton six-by trucks sitting at the foot of the bulldozed road leading to the top of the hill. " Motormouth asked. Mister Spook grinned at him. " They didn't slow down when they passed the parked trucks and Mister Spook rolled over the side of the truck and continued his roll to the shelter of one of the trucks. He lay in its shade, watching the others head to the highway a half mile distant until they turned onto it.