(Sorry it's long, but I needed to tell someone)

So, there was this patrol, 10 soldiers moving silently through the jungle on a small path.

It's surprising how open a jungle is. The growth is all in the tree tops, very little undergrowth because the sunshine is blocked out by the double and triple canopy tree tops. It's dark in there compared to out in the open, but you don't have trouble walking ... not a lot of vines and bushes like in the thickets that surround a swamp.

The mountainous trail was steep in places and the 50 # packs were just part of the load. Keeping weapons at the ready was impossible as the team held onto roots and limbs to keep their balance.

Everything was wet, always wet on the jungle floor, rain, dampness, mildew, rot - a smell that stays with you long after you're away from there ... and then a whiff of a camp fire, unseen smoke in the air. The enemy was near.

Hyper alertness as we listened for sounds of the enemy, nothing, and no sounds in the jungle also means danger. It means that the animals sense ppl and have gone silent.

Smoke and silence ... hyper listening, hyper watching, hyper smelling. We couldn't smell our own dirty selves, no bath in a week, no uniform change after living in the jungle alone, sweat, urine, feces, blood, mud, we could only smell the camp fire smoke.

Stop in place. Spread out. Take up defensive positions. Study the terrain. Study the map. Radio in our location in case we need help. Make sure artillery knows where we are. Drink some water. Check our weapons. Make sure safeties are on so we don't fire by accident. Make sure grenades are still hanging in the right place. And ... smell the air. Don't lose that smell - easy to lose the smell as your senses get used to it ... keep it in focus. Radio headquarters and let them know where you're going. Ask them to get cobra gun ships ready to respond.

Huddle with the assistant team leader, make a plan. Crawl to each soldier and let him know whats going on.

OK - silent signal to everyone, saddle up, let's go -- pick up your ruck sack and sling it onto your back, adjust the straps, hand signals tell the point man to move out - stay off the trail, move from tree to tree -- follow the smell of the smoke.

The almost imperceptible breeze comes from the east, but the direction changes often, wait for it to come back and confirm that the smoke is coming from that direction. Is that it? Do you smell it?

Hand signals, move out, everyone stays spread out to give an ambush a smaller target. The smell is stronger this time, we'er going the right direction.

Time passes slowly. Sweat runs into my eyes and down my back. Should drink more water, but I'm too hyper about the enemy to think about that. The guy to my right front stops to take a leak with his rifle held at waist level, ready to shoot, hyper hyper vigilent. Doesn't even button his trousers when he's finished, buttons are probably broken anyway. For some soldiers, it's better to empty their bladder before going into battle or there's a chance you'll be wet when the gunfire dies down.

Slowly, slowly, climbing along the side of a steep slope, some GI's higher, some lower. Smell the smoke. Seems like it's just above this rise.

And the point man signals to stop. Everyone crouches or takes cover behind a tree, but no one drops to the ground to rest. Everyone is focused on the point man even if they're looking outward and to the rear. He signals for the team leader to come forward. No one else moves. No one drinks from canteen. No one takes a leak.

From this high point, we can see into a small jungle valley, almost dark in the gloom, but we can see the smoke rising from a small cooking fire. They don't know we are above them. They have no guards posted.

The suspense is great for the rest of the team as they wait for word from the team leader and they are relieved when they see a smile on his dirty face.

The smoke comes from a fire in the center of three huts. Two women tend the fire and two children play nearby. There are no men in sight. Either they are hidden in the trees waiting for us to make a move. The team leader smiles at the tranquility of the scene but he knows the danger.

Radio ... whispered call to headquarters to let them know situation...helicopter gun ships stand by...artillery stand by, calculate the range and ammo required for our location.

We don't break up the patrol. 10 soldiers is a small unit.

If we walk toward the village, the women will run into the jungle. There is no intention of firing on the women or the huts. If any men are in the huts they're asleep or wounded already. Let's circle around the village and see if there are any guards or outposts.

A long while passes while we recon the area. And we find nothing. Either the men are inside or they are away. We don't have enough men to surround the village, so we'll approach from a direction where we can take cover behind trees as we came into the village.

As expected the women grabbed their children and ran into the jungle when they saw us coming. One fire team of 5 soldiers stayed on the side of the mountain, behind some trees and rocks to cover the rest of us who walked up to the huts.

A quick look in each of the three hut revealed that no one else was there. A longer search for tunnels showed that this was just a small village - probably where VC lived, but they were away at the time.

Radio call to headquarters ... no good. Radio wouldn't work from down here in this deep valley -- report later. Let's go.

Want to look find the women and question them? No - what would we learn? We'd spend hours finding them (if we did find them) and how would we communicate without an interpreter? And we don't want to kidnap them back to the rear area to get more of nothing. Leave them alone.

Guard our rear as we pull out of the village. Join the other soldiers above us. Watch the rear and carefully find out way out of the valley. Hope they don't follow us now that we've reversed roles.

The smell of smoke grew faint as we crossed into the next valley, reported to headquarters what we'd found, argued with higher officers as to why we didn't try to capture the women (and kids, for crying out loud).

Days later, one of the headquarters soldier reported that the village was marked on the map and that artillery had been firing rounds into that valley in a program known as I & H -- Interdiction and Harrassment -- Can you imagine?

So a peaceful patrol, hypervigilent and nerve wracking in a routine sort of way, turns into a ptsd memory, knowing that I was part of the I&H and not knowing whether anyone was ever injured because of our discovery.

Guess what I think of when I get a faint smell of camp fire smoke?