Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 359 Looking Westward from the Garrison Tower, Smoke and Dust Grow Dark

"My compatriots—"

"As President and Commander-in-Chief of the United States of America, I address the nation tonight with a heavy heart."

“In the past few days, there have been several coordinated and premeditated armed operations in Saigon and its surrounding areas, targeting South Vietnamese government institutions, our diplomatic representatives and advisory groups.”

"This was not an isolated act of violence, but rather a series of organized attacks."

"Many innocent people have tragically lost their lives in these incidents."

"We mourn the deceased and extend our condolences to the families of the victims."

"But we will not let grief be a reason for weakness."

"These attacks challenge the international order and the free world."

"It also tests our determination to keep our promises."

"Intelligence and investigation are underway urgently to hold those responsible accountable based on evidence."

"But I will not let the complexity of the procedures hinder our efforts to protect our fellow citizens."

"Based on the authorization passed by Congress, I have ordered several measures to be taken."

"Immediately deploy naval and air forces to protect our personnel and facilities."

"To conduct aerial reconnaissance and, if necessary, precision strikes."

"Carry out necessary evacuation and medical rescue."

"At this critical juncture, I want to emphasize again:"

"The United States does not seek conquest or expansion."

"But to those who use terror as a means, I want to make a solemn statement:"

"You will pay the price for this."

"We will act decisively until all the rioters are completely destroyed."

"I ask every American to support our troops and face this test with calm and resolute will."

"In this dark time, let us pray for the deceased, for the injured, and for courage and wisdom to those who must shoulder heavy responsibilities."

"May God bless those young people who are about to embark on their journeys."

May God grant this land justice and mercy.

"May God bless the United States of America."

July 25th, early morning.

The Pacific Ocean was covered by a thick layer of clouds.

Several C-141As took off from Guam and formed a formation heading southwest.

The wake churned up the heat wave and stirred up fine sand.

The cargo hold was dimly lit, with metal seats arranged in two rows along the aircraft wall.

The soldiers dozed off against their parachute packs, their seatbelts across their legs.

The captain's voice came through the headset, his tone calm:
—Entering the South China Sea route, expected to land in Kinlan at 03:30.

Each time an airflow passes by, the vibration penetrates the body, and the metal buckles collide with each other.

Below them, two Essex-class aircraft carriers sailed north along the open sea route.

The deck lights were turned off, leaving only yellow lines and red lights flashing in the night.

On the fog-shrouded deck, a dozen F-8 fighter jets were preparing for takeoff.

The firelight flickered and vanished in the hazy light.

With a whistle, the steam catapult was activated.

The fighter jet taxis, locks onto the target, and releases.

The controller's call sign came over the radio:

——Alpha One, cleared hot.

Three Terbon parish-class tank landing ships sailed toward the shore.

The officer's password was crisp and clear:
—Lower the boarding pin! Deploy the ladders! Prepare for landing!
The indicator light turned green, and the entire row of hatches opened in sequence.

The sound of engines high in the sky grew clearer.

Transport planes took turns entering the field, their landing lights seemingly sweeping across the sky and earth.

One M35 truck after another was already waiting nearby.

The soldiers disembarked, their footsteps fading into the crashing waves.

—First batch loaded onto trucks!

—The second echelon is ready!
Eli was in the third car.

The area was packed with people of all colors.

White, black, yellow, all covered in dust and dirt.

Leonard sat opposite him, gripping his rifle tightly.

"It's fucking hot here," he muttered.

Eli glanced back quietly.

There was nothing but the vast ocean.

"It will get even hotter when it gets light."

The commander at the front was making hand gestures.

The convoy then started moving.

The tires crunched and groaned as they rolled over the gravel.

The roadside was littered with oil drums and ammunition boxes.

Each box had the words "5.56MM BALL M193" painted on it in white.

Those are the bullets they'll be using in the coming weeks.

Smoke is still rising from Da Nang in the distance.

Those were marks left from the daytime bombing.

Eli leaned against the back of the truck bed.

The wind swept in from behind the open canvas.

Overhead, the clouds churned, and occasionally a glimpse of starlight could be seen.

He looked up and stared at the sky.

The F-100 roared past, leaving a few brief white streaks in its wake.

Leonard followed his gaze.

"See that?" he said. "Like a shooting star."

Eli did not answer.

Leonard's voice sounded so faint and so distant.

A transport plane flew by, followed by another.

It looked as if a long ribbon of lights was moving across the horizon.

That was the fleet's navigation light.

It stretches from Da Nang all the way to Haikou in the south.

Eli instinctively held his breath, seemingly captivated by the light.

He wondered, if it really was a shooting star, where would it land?
In the mountains? In the jungle? Or is it the sea behind us?
Perhaps it should have just passed by Earth.

Never fall, forever drifting on the desolate track.

Like the moon.

The moon over Vietnam.

The moon over my hometown.

Are they looking at the same moon?

will not.

The sun is high in the sky over there.

Clanton, Alabama.

The sun hung in the sky, and the corn leaves curled into thin strips.

My mother is making tea in the kitchen.

The fan keeps spinning, but it can't blow out any heat.

The radio host is broadcasting the midday news:

—The air force launched a new round of air raids in northern South Vietnam today.
My younger sister was sitting on the floor writing a letter; her handwriting wasn't very neat.

"Dear Eli," she wrote.

Mom said it would rain in town today, but the weather didn't get any colder.

The school is going to offer a summer drama class, and the teacher is still looking for someone to play the king.

I wish you were still here.

My sister paused here, thought for a moment, and then continued writing:
Everything has been fine at home since you left.

But when Lucy and I went to play in the river, Mom scolded us again.

She brings you up whenever she gets angry, saying that you're not home and she can't act recklessly.

So I was wondering, what kind of place is Vietnam? The teacher said it's in Asia.

Are there rivers and trees there too?

The teacher said you are heroes.

Ms. Alice said you are fighting for freedom and equality.

Just like our founding fathers.