Jernigan's War (35 page)

“I don’t understand.” He started to turn and look back; but his Dad put his arm around his shoulders, “There’s no looking back, you’re home, welcome home, son.”

CHAPTER 29

THE DEVILS ARRIVE

D
aniels Devils camped in an abandoned farm house west of Natchitoches, Louisiana. The next morning they spoke to some local farmers who told them where to attempt a crossing of the Red River. Up until this time they were able to cross the bridges on most of the creeks and rivers. Now they were trying to cross bridges controlled by the Chinese, so it was either fight for the bridge or swim the river with the horses. They didn’t have enough men or equipment to challenge the bridges held by the Chinese.

Daniels asked the men, “Have any of you ever tried to cross a river or lake with horses?”

Hank, an older guy of about 50, told them, “It’s best to get the first one started then all the others can follow. If they are heading in the right direction, just ease off the saddle and hang on to the saddle horn or their mane and let ‘em pull you. If you are on top you tend to weigh them under.”

“What about the packs weighing them down? We need to find a boat and transport all that we can across that way.”

It took them about half a day to locate a local man who had an aluminum boat they could use. Luckily he had an electric trolling motor and batteries that were hot from a solar cell charger. They waited until dusk and were able to transport all the packs and equipment over in two trips. They repaid the favor with some salt and sugar from Porter’s stash. None of the horses wanted to cross the river, so Porter brought Old Dollar and Ruth to the bank. Porter figured that Charlie and the boys had him cross the Pecos River in the past. Old Dollar did not hesitate but walked right on in and started across. As instructed Porter slid off on Old Dollar’s left side and hung on the horn. They were across in no time with Ruth in tow. The other horses followed as they hoped. Their first crossing of a river went off without a hitch. They waved across the river to the local farmer who pulled his boat back up the bank and out of sight. They set up camp in the woods, cleaned their weapons and dried their clothes.

They were finally near Jonesville, Louisiana, in Catahoula Parish. They were surprised by a group of Chinese that seemed lost in the wilderness. Porter and his fellow troops were still in the hill country and had not gotten into the delta area around the rivers and lakes. Luckily, they spotted the Chinese first, so they just led their horses back up the logging road they were on and tied them off. They waited in ambush. Porter counted fourteen Chinese from where he crouched in the pine thicket.

Daniels whispered, “Don’t fire until I do.” they all nodded in agreement. As Charlie had taught him, Porter picked out his first 4 or five targets. He had come to realize that these guys had never really seen much combat; so, he knew he may have to carry the water for everyone. Porter had his gun up and resting against a small sapling next to him. The instant Daniels pulled the trigger, he opened up on the first then the second and so on. He never waited to see if his shot connected. After the fourth shot the targets were either down or scattered. He kept shooting until there were no targets moving.

He slapped a fresh magazine in the rifle and moved forward, a quick bullet through the head of one who was moving eliminated the threat. His fellow troops all rose and looked around. Porter took his time and popped all the other dead Chinese through their heads.

“Why did you do that, Porter?”

He unbuttoned his shirt and showed them the hole in his shoulder and side, “I woke up after taking two hits from one of these rifles and went on to kill a number of their comrades. I don’t take chances, and I’m not taking prisoners after I’ve seen what they do. Unless you are planning on patching them up, I recommend you just send them on to their maker and get it over with. They’re now buzzard bait.” He gathered up a couple of full magazines from the Chinese packs and replaced the empty ones in his pack and gun. Daniels looked up, “Guys, I suggest you follow his lead, he hasn’t been wrong about one thing since he joined us.” He took his AK47 and also popped one in the head. They all gave Porter the thumbs up.

“These little cookies in the foil pouches are mighty tasty,” Porter said holding one up. “I’d go through their packs and see what they have. I keep hoping I’ll find some hand grenades.”

Hank said, “Don’t you think you are a little young to be playing with fireworks?” Everyone laughed including Porter. They had passed a milestone, although killing was serious business, killing communists now became sport.

They led the horses around the dead, they were afraid that the smell of blood would spook them. Porter led with Old Dollar and Ruth as they were the calmest animals. Spreading out about 100 yards apart each took a turn riding point. They traveled for several hours and set up camp within sight of a main highway intersection. They stayed put because there was a ditch full of rainwater and plenty of grass for the animals. They decided to let them eat and rest for a big part of the day. They set up their radio
and were waiting for a response from Cooney before proceeding further towards Jonesville. A low rumble rose up from a column of trucks and equipment coming down the road. Porter set up his tripod and set his long gun across it. Under the highest power he could see that it was a Chinese column of trucks. A helicopter circled overhead and headed towards Jonesville.

Suddenly they heard a shot ring out in the distance. It was barely audible over the din of the trucks and heavy equipment. Trucks started leaving the road and there was a huge explosion in one. Porter was sitting about 400 yards east of the column. He looked back at Daniels with a questioning look, “Can I start shooting?”

“Hell yea!”

Porter started shooting men as they poured out of the trucks. A traffic jam had been created in the road. The Chinese were directing their fire at the levee straight in front of them. Porter yelled, “Grab my .308 ammo box off of my mule pack.” The men came running up with the rest of his ammo and he reloaded his long gun and fired another volley. Suddenly, the column starting coming apart from the rear forward. Shells were literally turning the whole area into a horrible mess of men and machines. Debris and shrapnel fell all over the field with some landing almost on top of them. A deafening roar almost burst their ear drums as the A10 Warthog turned over their heads to line up for another pass down the column. Chinese troops were running for cover. Porter kept firing until he had exhausted his supply of ammunition. Another pass of the Warthog finished off the machines and anyone left alive in the column. Porter put away the empty long gun and went to the AK47.

Daniels called out, “Let ‘em have it.” They opened up from the woods on all they could see within 300 yards of them. They were out of targets, but not out of danger. There was still gunfire coming from the column and an occasional bullet zinged through the trees around them. They retreated back into the woods, saddled
the animals, and reloaded the pack animals, keeping out a wary eye the entire time.

The radio crackled, it was Cooney, “Where are you guys located?”

Daniels answered, “We’re involved in one hell of a battle just east of town, a Warthog just blew a Chinese column to hell and back, we’ve been killing the crap out of the survivors.”

“Get across the levee, which is north of your position, and travel along it until you get into town. I’ll meet you about a mile out. Is my grandson ok?”

“He’s fine; he’s the single biggest killing machine I’ve ever seen.”

“Keep your eyes open, the biggest killing machine I know, Dix Jernigan, was also shooting at that column.”

Daniels proclaimed, “We saw him in action, he stopped the whole damn thing, we never saw him, we just heard his gun and saw the results.”

“Get started and look for him on your way, in case he was wounded.”

They climbed on the horses and crossed the road, cut through a fence and were up and over the levee in short order. They swung east following the river. They didn’t find any sign of Dix, other than a bloody spot in some matted down grass. There were a couple of 30-06 bullets lying there also, apparently they had been dropped.

They pushed the horses and mules hard in order to put some distance between them and the shot up column. They brought them to a stop and walked them after the three mile run. Cooney
Jones was set up under a tree with a radio operator. A rugged looking man with about a 3 week beard came driving up on a dirt bike. Cooney looked up and grinned when he saw Porter, “Dammit, you’ve turned into one fine man!” He grabbed Porter and gave him the biggest hug a man could give another man.

Butch Erwin who had just arrived on the motorcycle said,“ Don’t I get a hug, I just finished off a helicopter and a pile of Chinese.”

Cooney grinned, “Only if I can get a big old kiss too.”

“I think I’d rather kiss that green lipped mule standing over there.” They had a big laugh and then they got serious.

“Everyone this is Butch Erwin, he is Captain from Concordia Parish east. He wouldn’t be over here unless it was important. What’s the situation?” Butch cut straight to the chase, “Dix has been hit and was heading back to his camp down on Grassy Lake. He has quit answering the radio, so it can’t be good.”

Cooney shook his head, “We can’t go after him now, and under the circumstances he wouldn’t want us to. We have to finish cleaning up the Chinese around here while we have them on the run. You guys stow your gear in that barn and put the stock in the paddock. There’s a water trough under the eave drip that’s full. Report back to me. Butch draw me a detailed map of how to find Dix’s camp, I’ll send someone the instant I can.”

The next three days involved a lot of sporadic fighting around the town and countryside. No more paratroopers showed up and no helicopters came in. The Chinese made a made run west out of the parish about four days later. They took a lot of fire when they headed out, but no one was anxious to get in their way. Everyone was now battle tested and exhausted. Butch rode up to where Porter was eating some hard tack and drinking water from his canteen. “Porter, Captain Jones ask me to give you this
map to see if you can locate Dix Jernigan. He’s probably dead or we would have heard from him by now. Look in all the ditches along the way, he was on an old four wheeler and probably ran off the road. Don’t surprise him if you can help it, he may kill you before he thinks. Take a medical kit with you in case you have to patch him up some.”

“I’ll find him. If he is dead, what do you want me to do?”

“Just bury him and mark the spot, if he’s hurt take care of him the best you can, and bring him back when he can travel.”

CHAPTER 30

BACK TO PURGATORY

D
ix suddenly woke up in a sitting position leaning against the ancient cypress tree on the lake bank. He sat there in a mental fog staring at a hole in his boot. The pain in his foot was coming and going in time with his beating heart. A fly was walking around the bloody hole in his boot and was soon joined by several more. He thought one was walking down the side of his face, but when he tried to swat it, realized that it was a trickle of blood. Running his tongue over his teeth he found one of his upper teeth loose. The lip was busted immediately in front of it. The vision in his right eye was blurry and it was almost swollen shut.

From where he sat he was hidden from the roadway above. The weeds and briars on the lake bank stood between him and the roadway. His four-wheeler lay on its side next to him. The dense shade from the old cypress tree created an area free of weeds and briars beneath it and the ground was covered in a dense layer of needles. The cypress tree is a relative of the California redwoods. It doesn’t really have needles like a pine tree or even leaves like a regular tree. The leaves remind one of a delicate feather.

He had no idea what time it was. It was daylight, but his watch was missing. Every breath caused a spasm on his left side and it felt like there were broken ribs. His shirt was wet and sticky from blood on that side. His field of vision slowly narrowed to black and the pain disappeared.