Phantoms of the Jungle

     This poem is a tribute to the men of the Special Air Service or SAS (read as "ess ay ess"). There was usually one squadron (roughly equivalent to a rifle company in size) at any one time serving as a support unit to the infantry battalions. Their primary role (ie members of SAS) was one of reconnaissance, reporting back on enemy strengths and movements around the province.

"He who dares wins!"

- SAS Motto

One squadron based, atop that hill,
Distinct dress hats, 'twere fawn berets;
Main function 'twas reconnaissance,
Ambushes set most nights and days.
Yet, unlike those'grunts' in the infantry,
Patrols led by just a 'sarge';
Size restricted to a phantom role,
With faces blackened for camouflage.

And in March of 1968,
Intelligence reported that,
A tractor 'twas moving VC supplies,
North 20 Ks from Nui Dat.
An insertion swift by Cashmore's men,
Rappelling into the landing zone;
A four-man patrol with special gear,
Chopper leaving them on their own.

A fire-trail being used at night,
By Viet Cong carting arms;
So our boys set up recce posts,
Each with '2-ways' as alarms.
A loud noise 'twas heard, from afar,
Motor droning in first gear;
A brazen light silhouetted them,
Armed party escorting front and rear.

Ambush set at dawn, and in that track,
A mine 'twas buried, specially made;
High explosives with pressure plates,
And claymores attached to wires laid.
So late that night, patrol blown high,
Destroyed in one horrendous roar;
An aerial photo next day revealed,
Twenty five dead or maybe more.

A signal flashing back to base,
Message in code but clearly read;
Canopy pierced by lowered ropes,
Chopper soon hovering overhead.
Thus each man extracted, using stealth,
So leaving Cong to only guess,
If these were 'phantoms of the jungle'?
Or Special Air Service, called S.A.S.?

© Paul La Forest

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