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On the 2nd of February , I remember approaching a large, nice, really an upper class home for a Vietnam hamlet. It had a nice wide porch with pillars, potted plants, and tile. As the 2nd platoon approached the house, the platoon was mingling around in different directions.
Harrison told Sgt. Raynor check out the house. Raynor took Daniel and Pitts up the steps to the front door as I faced the house. I looked to my left and saw that there was a fruit tree there with shade and ripe fruit. Trant stayed on the opposite side with Adams and I. Adams and I went to the tree. I pulled a piece of fruit off of the tree. It was some sort of citrus fruit. Then, we were looking for a nice spot in the shade to plop our asses down for a well deserved break. We were both loaded down with full gear, 40 mags of M16 ammo, two frag grenades, rounds M60 ammo, canteens, food etc.
My knees were about half bent to sit down when the shit hit the fan, a wall of fucking lead. We probably looked like a couple of well trained race horses coming out of the gate. I never ran that hard, that fast, in my life, and Adams was close by. We hit the front of the house at the same time Daniel, Raynor, and Pitts all hit the doorway coming out.
Daniel went down, all alone on the porch. At that point Adams and I were separated. I went with Trant, but Adams went to my right towards where the Patterson fire team was I think. Adams and I were separated for most of the day. I think Raynor and Pitts were on my side of the house with Trant and I. I have no idea now what they were doing, but my mission then was to try and get my friend Daniel off of that porch.
The incoming fire power was very heavy at that time. Worse, Trant was having problems with his weapon. It was jammed; I took it and cleared it for him; it jammed again. Fuck, I get it back. Trant says it only works on automatic. I throw it back at him. Raynor and Pitts were in the ditch with Harrison by then I think.