The tales made Nang itch to be part of a battle, any battle. He’d questioned them with the little Viet Namese he’d learned. How stupid they are, he’d thought. In youthful enthusiasm and naïveté he was certain he could do better. Had they better coordinated their infantry and artillery, they would have been even more successful. Had they used less explosive at each point but doubled the attack points...Oh, he’d thought, to be part of the great victory!
With the itch to fight strong, he’d picked his way down the Ho Chi Minh Trail. In southeastern Laos the trail bombings were so heavy they all but closed the route. Twice Nang was caught in areas adjacent to B-52 bomb boxes. As the ground trembled, fear, awe, vengeance had heightened his resolve. Now, too, there were rumors of American bombin
