“We reached the base camp by mid-afternoon, and it was indeed abandoned, but there were signs that someone had recently been there. We began searching each of the bunkers. I was surprised at how clean the enemy had kept the camp. Unlike our camps, there was no trace of a cigarette butt, a scrap of paper or any other detritus of occupation.
Suddenly I heard an outburst of shouting, and I ran toward the sound. An enemy soldier had been found hiding in a spider hole, and I immediately felt sorry for him. He looked so young (a thirty-year-old male could easily pass for fifteen or sixteen years of age till you got to know the people better), clad only in shorts. He was barefoot and unarmed and clearly terrified. None of us could speak Vietnamese and he had no idea what was being shouted at him. Sgt. Gibson quickly took control and secured the prisoner’s hands behind his back. I had met my first enemy soldier.
I lit a cigarette and walked over to him and placed it between his lips. He was plainly grateful, and in a short time we freed his hands so he could eat. Once he realized that we were not going to harm him, he became very friendly, smiling and nodding in appreciation. We called for a helicopter for the prisoner and set about securing a clearing for the chopper to land. As we heard the chopper in the distance, there was a sudden explosion. the prisoner had stumbled into one of his own booby traps and blown himself up. I never knew if he did it on purpose or by accident. One of our men was slightly wounded, but the prisoner was badly blown apart since he had absorbed most of the blast.
It dawned on me then that men die in obscure places that have no significance, in total anonymity, with no headstone or marker, and no one to tell their families. There was no honor in that kind of death. I was just glad that I had been kind to him. I vowed to myself that I never wanted to be accused of mistreating a captured soldier.
Under my breath, I prayed an Act of Contrition for him, and then tried to put the incident out of my mind. A memorable day. My first glimpse of an enemy soldier and my first glimpse of a battle casualty, all on my first patrol, and on the same day.”
- Charles Chapman, US Army, Vietnam.
Resource: An American Odysseus, by Charles R. Chapman