From the aerial recon, I made a sand table of the camp and had many discussions with Binh and a few other volunteers about how things would play out. Binh suggested blowing up one of the legs on the guard tower so that it would fall on top of what I presumed was the guards’ sleeping quarters. I had planned to execute the raid about an hour before dawn so that we’d have the cover darkness on our side. We also wouldn’t have to wait long for there to be enough for the rescue choppers to see our smoke signal.

From the sand table, we built a full-scale mock-up to practice the raid. The assault team would be me, Binh, an M60 machine gunner, a radioman, and a medic. Truman had taken the liberty of sending medical supplies and a special forces medic to do some training during my absence. Truman is about as solid a man as I’ve ever met. The basic plan was I’d kill any guards milling around the prisoners’ barracks with a knife while Binh rigged up the explosives on the guard tower. The other three would hang back in reserve a bit outside the perimeter as a rapid response force of sorts. I also scrounged up some old WW2 era noise makers called crickets. It would be a way for us to single in the dark without speaking or otherwise attracting enemy attention. Cricket noise makers were used by airborne troops on D-Day. But I digress. Often.

Getting across the DMZ and close to the camp was the tricky part. Choppers are too noisy and slow and arranging for airstrikes on the enemy air defenses would require more authority than I or Trautman had. It was too far to walk so the only option left was static line jump at night. Getting Binh and the three other men on board, literally and figuratively, was tricky, but in the end they all did a practice static line jump. I explained to them that jumping out of a plane is not that big of a deal and that many American aviators did their first jump successfully in emergency conditions. When we got within a few miles of the camp, the pilot would cut the engines so we’d glide in silently, then do a static line jump from about 1,200 feet. That means we’d spend about a minute descending. That would keep us close together. We’d be taking a C-119, a twin-engine cargo plane. The same plane had been used by the French for airborne operations back in 1954. It earned the nickname of The Flying Boxcar as it was such a reliable transport.

The area around the POW camp was a field with some rice paddies. So the good news was we wouldn’t have to worry about getting stuck in any trees, just getting wet. In many Asian countries, rice is grown in flooded fields called paddies. Rice can grow underwater, but weeds can’t. It saves the farmers a lot of work since they don’t have to pull weeds every day. There’s a reason why people do things and often the solutions are clever.

All that was left was to wait for a new moon. You’d be surprised how much harder it is to see in the dark when there’s no moon visible in the night sky. I knew I had above average night vision and that the guards would likely be the opposite from slight malnutrition. In many countries, people don’t get enough vitamin A, which impairs night vision. And in worn-torn countries, malnutrition is much more common than in peacetime. In war, the smallest advantage can mean the difference between victory and defeat, and in combat, second place is first coffin.

At long last, the moment of truth was upon us. As Sun Tzu wrote in the Art of War, on the day of battle you may see some of your men weeping, not out of fear, but because they now know they must either do or die. I saw no tears, just determined faces. We boarded the C-119 a bit after midnight. No one spoke during the flight; we just silently doubled-checked all our weapons and gear. This kept us busy and soothed our nerves. In any dangerous undertaking, it is vital to remain focused on the present moment and to leave all other thoughts behind. The great Japanese swordsman Musashi wrote of this in The Book of Five Rings. His advice to be determined though calm is probably the most useful thing I’ve ever read.

I bent my legs right before landing. Once on the ground, I gathered my parachute, and stuffed it in a bag. Some villager was going to have a cool and useful souvenir later. I started using my cricket noise maker until I heard the others. It was sort of like a game of Marco Polo. As the clicks grew louder, we were able to rally in the dark. The POW camp had a few lights, and we moved toward them. When we reached the perimeter, I threw a thick blanket over the top of the concrete wall to protect myself from the broken glass embedded in it and crawled over the top. Broken glass is used in such a way in many countries. It’s the poor man’s barbed wire. Binh followed me over the top and headed for the guard tower. One of the others planted a C4 charge on the other side of the wall, ready to detonate it as soon as Binh blew up the guard tower.

I crept carefully toward the POW barracks. My gait was a slow crouch with my left hand out, fingers together and my thumb sticking out. I held my Ka-Bar knife with and overhand grip in my right hand. That is, the blade was on the same side of my hand as my thumb. This is the best posture for sneaking behind someone and killing them with a knife. There was a lone NVA guard in gray uniform with his rifle slung over his left shoulder, which made things easier. I covered his mouth with my left hand as I stabbed upward to pierce his brain stem. He gargled on some of his blood and went limp. I let him down gently so he wouldn’t make a thud. There was a simple padlock on the barracks door. I had some hair pins in my pocket that I had already bent into the right shape and used them to pick the lock. I opened the door and saw the prisoners in bed. With my cricket clicker in hand, I gently put my hand on the shoulder of a sleeping POW and made it sound. He woke, we made eye contact, and I pulled out my dog tags. The edges were encased in rubber so they wouldn’t make any jingles or jangles. With signs, I motioned for him to wake the others and wait for me to return.

I ran to the guard tower where Binh was and gave the sign to detonate the C4. We took cover and he hit the button. There was a sharp, loud bang followed by another back at the wall. We both ran back to the barracks and motioned the prisoners to follow. The stronger prisoners, Binh, and I helped the weaker ones along. At the hole in the wall, we linked up with the others and ran for the extraction point not far from where we landed. Dawn was just breaking when I popped a red smoke grenade and waved it in a slow circle over my head so the rescue choppers could see the big spiral it made. After a few tense minutes, we heard the whirring chopper blades and the roar of the engines. There was no time to lose. We scrambled in and took off. Once we reached the outpost, the now liberated POWs were transferred to other choppers and flown to the hospital in Da Nang.