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patrols would make contact with small VC patrols or snipers in which case our patrols would kill or capture those enemy combatants.
On one such occasion we were fired upon from a treeline near a small Hamlet—
we returned fire and advanced on the location of the small arms fire—we discovered three dead VC—from our returned fire—one of the three combatants was in a North Viet Nam ( NVA ) uniform. All were armed with relatively new weapons. We followed procedure and checked their bodies for intelligence— maps, correspondence—anything. I examined the dead NVA soldier—found a wallet—opened it—saw his ID—he was indeed an NVA soldier and I saw something else—a picture of this soldier , his wife and a baby girl. I stared at this picture and tears came to my eyes—I realized that if our roles had been reversed —he could be looking down at me and finding a picture exactly like his—a picture of me, Kay and Kimmie! It reminded me of the oft asked question ‘why are we here’? This scene was repeated often over the next several months.
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