The shooting started shortly after midnight. Parelli was on radio watch; Hamilton and the other members of the team were sleeping. Hamilton was awakened by the sudden, urgent, purposeful rattle of small-arms and machine-gun fire, followed by the very loud whump-whump-whump of incoming mortar rounds. For a fraction of a second he lay still, thinking, “‘Oh, hell, here we go again,’’ then jumped out of his cot, into his shower shoes (which, for just such occasions as this, were always placed where his feet would come down when he popped out of the cot), and, since for the moment there were no more incoming mortar rounds, stepped into the radio room. Parelli was lying on his stomach on the floor by the radio table talking into the microphone.
‘*Sleepy Onion Alfa’’—this was Tuy Cau’s call sign— “this is Sleep Onion Echo. Sleepy Onion Echo, over.”’
Hamilton recognized Sergeant Osbert’s voice when Tuy Cau replied, ‘‘Echo, this is Alfa. Over.”’
‘This is Echo; we got contact.”’