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FLASHPOINT 152 The Taking of Hill One-Five-Two
A Short Story Written by Dr. Rick McGrath, Ph.D.
December 28, 1971 would be a day that was like no other. At least for the lives of a dozen men or so. When the order was given, a select team of well trained marines were ordered to fight and take the hill known as Hill One-Five-Two in Viet Nam.
Hill One-Five-Two was a well fortified hill with dozens of enemy soldiers from the North. Sergeant Ronald L. Ricker was the senior sergeant that led his crack team to the base of the hill. “Men“, he said. “We’ve been together for a long time. We have known each other in and away from battle.”
Sergeant Ricker and his men weren’t just any group of men that were sent in to do the impossible. They were a group of warriors on and off the battle field. When they weren’t in combat or sent abroad on missions, they worked and lived almost like a family. Stateside they would meet regularly and pray together, help in church working with the poor and down and out along with helping other vets who came home less fortunate.
“Our commanders have sent us out here to take this hill. This won’t be easy. Their Intel suggests there are two to three dozen Viet-cong holding this hill. Our job is to take them out and secure it.” “Corporal Clemens take ½ of team and work your way up the left side of the hill. Don’t take any unnecessary chances. The rest of you men, you’re on me,” said Ricker.
It only took about five minutes up the hill when all hell broke out. The air filled with loud noises of enemy fire. Motor rounds rained down on Ricker and his men. Unrelenting enemy rounds from machine gun fire kicked up dirt. The attack was so fierce Ricker and his men could hardly lift their heads to give return fire.
Ricker screamed out to his radio man Lance Corporal Ran, “ call in for air support. Get those guys over here now.” As soon as Ricker gave the order to call in for help, a motor round dropped in a few feet away from Lance Corporal Ran, killing him and destroying the radio. Ricker and his men were now on their own. “Oh crap!” yelled Private Burns. “What are we going to do now Sarg? We can’t get air support and there sounds like they have a lot more men than we were told?” “Be quite”, Ricker yelled back. Let me think for a minute. Even thinking was hard to do. with the non-stop enemy attack. “Right now we are going to stay here with our heads down low and our butts even lower. Get a message over to Clemens and tell him to just hold his position,” ordered Ricker. “Ok Sarg! I’m on it, replied Private Burns.
Several hours had passed and the attack continued to be non-stop. Ricker and his men were pinned down with no way of getting air support or more men to help take a critical vantage point that Hill 152 presented. “Sergeant Ricker, are we going to die out here?” blurted Private Johansen. “What are we going to do?” Ricker spending the last several hours thinking about their predicament responded, “ We’re going to do like we always do. We are going to pray just like when we are at home. That’s what we are going to do.” “Send a message over to Corporal Clemens and give him my order. Time to call in the big guns. Tell him I said to pray.” Ricker began to pray. “Lord God we want to thank you for bringing us out here. We know you will protect us and make away for us to be victorious. We give you the honor for the victory you are going to show us. You are our shield. I know the weapons you use are not from this world. We trust in you and your will for us. If it be your will Lord God, we would like to see our families one more time. We pray this in the name of Jesus, amen.”
Back at home, state side, Ricker’s wife Joni began feeling sick to her stomach. She was always keen on senses. The only time she would get this kind of feeling is when her husband was in trouble. Joni, also involved in prayer groups, led the team’s wives in bible study and prayer group. The families were all very close and considered themselves family. Once Joni began sensing something was wrong she grabbed the phone and called Corporal Clemens’s wife Reba. “Reba this is Joni. Look I got a bad feeling. I think the boys are in trouble. Call Jackie, Rosie and Hanna and I’ll call the other gals. Let’s meet here at my place in one hour,” said Joni. “Ok Joni. I’ll do it,” replied Reba. As the women began to arrive and assemble in Joni’s living room, Joni explained that a huge feeling and a voice in her head said to start praying. Believing faithfully as they do, they all began to pray and intercede for their husbands in Viet Nam.
Meanwhile back on Hill One-Five-Two, the men were still pinned down unable to make much progress at all. “Sergeant Ricker, Sergeant Ricker,” yelled Private Johansen. “Corporal Clemens said they lost Ramirez and LaForce.” “May God rest their souls,” said Ricker in a soft and saddened voice. “They were fine men,” Ricker blurted out. “Hey Sarg,” you smell that?” questioned Johansen. “Sure do,” said Ricker. “What is it Sarg? I’ve never smelled anything so wonderful in my life. I can’t even describe it in words. It’s not masculine or feminine. It’s just wonderful,” stated Johansen. “Well,” said Ricker. “The last time I smelt something like this was at home. My wife, Joni and I were sitting in our bedroom and we both smelled this wonderful aroma that we couldn’t describe either. Neither one of us had on any cologne or perfume. We were praying for Joni to get pregnant because one of us were having a problem. No matter how or when we tried, nothing happened. We tried for three years. We decided to get on our knees and ask God to make it possible. Before we even finished praying we started to smell that aroma we are smelling right now. Three weeks later Joni missed her period and we got the good news! Little Erick was on the way,” exclaimed Ricker. “I think we are about to get our butts saved,” he said.
As they laid there trying not to get hit by the on-coming enemy fire, Ricker continue praying and praising the Lord. Nightfall had set in and the night sky was dark except for the light that came off the incoming motor rounds as the exploded and the tracer rounds from the machine gun fire. Within twenty minutes there was a super bright flash that appeared on Hill one-five-two. It was so brilliant it turned night into day for almost five seconds. Then it was gone. It turned pitch black. There were no more motor rounds coming in, no machine gun fire either. There wasn’t a sound. Just an eerie quite over took the hill.
“What’s going on Sarg?” asked Johansen. “I’m not sure but let’s just wait here for a bit. If they aren’t firing on us we will try to move up the hill some,” mumbled Ricker. “Maybe they ran out of ammo,” somewhat a hoping Johansen stated. “I doubt it. See if you can get over to Clemens and tell him if we don’t hear anything within the next ten minutes to start moving up the hill. Stay over there with his team. They might need the extra weapon,” commanded Ricker. “Yes sir Sarg right away,” responded Johansen. “And don’t call me sir. I’m no officer you know”, barked Ricker. Ten minutes came and went with no more enemy fire raining down on them. They began to slowly move up the hill from two positions. As they got closer there was still no noise or rounds being fired. “This is really weird,” Ricker thinking to himself. “How can this be? All hell has been sent our way all day and into the night and now nothing?”
The men continued their climb fully alert with their skin tingling with adrenalin. Both Ricker’s team and Corporal Clemens’ team arrived at the top of Hill One-Five-Two at the same time. “Holy cow,” exclaimed Clemens. “What the heck happened here?” he questioned. “Man I don’t know,” said Ricker. “How can all these guys be dead without any noise?” “Did anyone hear anything? Any explosions? Because I didn’t hear anything.” “No. Remember I was there with you. We didn’t hear anything. There was just that flash of light. No noise remember Sarg? No noise,” said Johansen. “Look at all those motor tubes, they’re crushed like cheap soda cans. Who could do something like this without making a sound?” a puzzled Johansen commented. “I think the hand of God did this. I think he must have sent us some back up and Angels from above came to our rescue. How am I going to explain this one?” questioned Ricker. “Ok men let’s grab our dead and let’s get back to friendly territory. Corporal Clemens, pick four men to stay behind and secure this hill top. We’ll be back by 08:00 to get you. We have to get back to command and let them know their hill is secure,” Ricker commanded Clemens. “Will do Sarg but hurry. This place gives me the creeps,” exclaimed Corporal Clemens. “I’ll take Anderson, Sanchez, Billings and Jackson. You stay behind and set up a perimeter,” Clemens ordered. “On it Corporal,” responded Billings.
Once down the hill and back to command about ten clicks south of Hill One-Five-Two, Ricker reported in with little mention at the time. He and his men tired and hungry didn’t want to have to spend all night trying to explain how they took out so many enemy soldiers without hardly firing a shot. No way were they going to believe Angels did it.
The next morning, rested and fed, Ricker and his men along with a few dozen fresh combat ready marines went back to Hill One-Five-Two to relieve and re-secure the hill. When the other men arrived they couldn’t believe their eyes. Eighty six dead in all. All the weapons destroyed. “Hey Ricker” shouted Staff Sergeant Richmond. “I don’t know how you did this but way to go,” exclaimed Richmond.
Several months later Sergeant Ricker and his team returned home where they were greeted with public boos and protestors. As if they started the war. “How come these people are mad at us?’ “We didn’t do anything to them,” said Ricker. “I don’t know but I think I’m more afraid of being here than in Nam,” commented Private Johansen. Once inside, they were rushed off to the Marine Corps base at Camp Pendleton, in California. Arriving at the base there were all sorts of dignitaries, news people and lots of brass. The commanding General, General Alexander greeted the men and said, “Good job men. I’m proud of you and you all served your country well. I heard good things about you. Tell me what happened over there? I understand there was just a small handful of you marines and they counted eighty six dead,” queried the General.
Body count was a big thing during the Viet Nam war. Success was measured by body count not geographical positions won or lost. Just body count. They figured if the folks back home heard how many of the enemy were being killed compared to our number they wouldn’t object so loud. Over and over again, the marines and supporting soldiers from the Army and Navy had to retake positions already won then abandon.
“Well Sir, what happened is we lost some good men, and good friends, that’s what happened General,” replied Ricker. “I’m sure you did Sergeant, I’m sure you did. But tell me how did you take out all that enemy fire and overcome that many men?” General Alexander asked again. “First General, all glory and honor goes to God. Without him we probably would all be dead,” responded Ricker. “Yeah, yeah but tell me about the battle. How did you do it? I want to know, commanded the General. “Sir like I said, We give all glory and honor to God. Let me make it simple,” said Ricker. “Let’s just say they couldn’t handle the superior fire power that was thrown at them. After all, that’s why you sent my team in wasn’t it General?” replied Sergeant Ricker. “For the weapons we use are not from this world, but from above. They are used to pull down strong holds.” 2 Cor. 10:4
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