I arrive at the first homely house in the village, and a worried-looking woman gathers her children as I click off a quick shot. I’m making drinking gestures and talking pigeon Vietnamese about a cold drink when the young Seal jogs up behind me, “He man, what the hell are you doing?” He explains that this is not a friendly vil and we need to back out now or “have our throat’s cut.” His eyes dart from one doorway to the next as he holds his piece at the ready. “Where in the hell is your weapon man?” Safely back at the cement terminal, the young Seal explains the situation. He points to the twisted hulks of crashed choppers all around the site. That vil is Charlie's now and quite hostile. This place gets hit every night and somtimes in the day. Where in the hell do you plan to sleep, and why don't you have a weapon? I haven't thought of such things. I've only thought of my fancy John Wayne camera gear I wear. We call anything we wear that looks macho and warlike after John Wayne. I had assumed I would get back to Saigon that night. He offers to take me into the jungle to the Seal's camp. We'll be attacked there tonight for sure too, he says, but at least I'll be surrounded by a Seal Team. I consider this when a chopper crew swoops in to pick up the wounded man the Seals had escorted to the landing Zone. A flight crew gunner offers me a ride to a waiting hospital ship off the coast. Loving to photograph from a chopper, I choose the E-ticket helicopter ride.