The North Vietnamese was at war with the south. The US our new mates were one step ahead of us, they got involved in the Vietnam War and we had no choice but to follow and also to heal our fear of communism coming to Australia. In 1962 the Australian Government sent a team of thirty army ad-visors to help train the, South Vietnamese, and in response to the call from America who had managed to get themselves involved.

          This is the story of two of the military commandos who became prisoners of the North Vietnamese and their journey of escape through the clutches.

Chapter 1: Goodbye

21st July 1962,

My bags were packed and everyone else was dreaming, I kissed my wife Georgia goodbye and slid my hand through my son’s hair, which was seemed golden in the light of the dim room. I thought of would return and watch him grow, I tried to stay positive and knew the fifteen years of the grueling training wouldn’t fail. I slowly picked up my bag, it felt heavier than I thought, I clipped the hard plastic buckles onto my back. I started walking out of the house, while this strange feeling growing inside of me I kept walking through the hall, there was an eerie silence in the house. My hand gripped the cold, hard steel of the door handle; I turned around and have a quick glance over the house.

The wind cold was crisp and cold on my bitter, rough skin. The sun was starting to wake up from its sleep, and caused a bright red reflection in the sky outlining every white cloud in the sky. It was going to be a bright day, I imagined playing footy with my son in the backyard of the house, the soft cold grass brushing through my toes the sun warm, baking on my bitter skin. This was only a fantasy; right know the aircraft was waiting for me on the tracks.

The dark clump of precisely, engineered steel looked like an eagle treading water, its long wings wide spread across the rough bitumen.

The hard rubber boots clanked the steel of the portable stairs, which looked like a long bony tail of a squirming rat inside the mouth of the eagle. Inside the air was warm and stuffy, from now on military forces had control. Khaki colored clothes lay over the seats, I walked over the lane to my seat, all eyes glaring through their goggles as another joined their fate. Next to me was seated Ryan.

Ryan was my childhood friend; we had been through everything together; to driving our first bicycles to driving our first Mustangs. We had also joined the armed forces in the same week. Tightly strapped to his chair Ryan looked scared and nervous; his big, poor helpless eyes outlined by the goggles. As I sat down we didn’t talk much, perhaps it was the fear kicking in.

**

Two hours on the weather up high became really bad. There great flashes of lightning which brought huge claps of sound, as if we were in the battlefield already and claymores were exploding right underneath our feet. The pilot announced through his speaker to stay in our strap ourselves and stay in our seats, as we were heading into a wild tropical storm. The rain and wind become stronger, roaring louder than the jet’s engine turbines. The aircraft was being flipped over and over with the tremendous turbulence. The flashes become more common and louder, with a loud thunder making my heart jump. The lightning strikes seemed closer to the planes: until there was a massive explosion: at first I thought we were a prey of a ground missile: then I realized we were hit by lightning. The plane started to descent, then quickly developed into a nose dive. Every gripped the side bars, I thought what was going through their minds; what were they thinking about as we plummeted to death. I remembered, kissing goodbye bye to Georgia, and imaged my son playing footy alone without me. Was this really it, we hadn’t even touched our rifles yet, let alone landed in the battlefield. The plane was roaring as went perpendicular to the sea. It became closer and closer, until its nose was touching the sea. I took my last breath and tensed every muscle in my body, waiting for the impact.