The old man's shot tunneled through the young ARVN soldier's breastbone, resulting in a spray of blood and the young soldier in his OD green uniform crumpling. He cycled the bolt out of instinct while still feeling the recoil from the old Russian rifle. He felt the whizz of bullets his way as the BAR gunner started to engage him with a steady stream of fire. He was old, not stupid, he'd picked terrain that he could hunker down in when he took the shot. He could feel the wood splinter around him as the bullets thwocked into trees with a sickening sort of finality, at a lethal velocity that simply tore the jungle apart around him.

Then the others engaged with this group of ARVN, and the pressure came off him. So he got into a slightly different position and waited patiently. The auto rifleman wisely took good cover from where he was so he couldn't get to him, but then...

...ah, there was one. A man with a radio, the antenna folded but still very obvious. That was the truly dangerous one, in his experience. He shot once, it hit close but not quite, and then the man started to hunker down. He kept firing, again and again, trying to keep the man pinned down, perhaps so a comrade with a grenade could finish him off. The radioman wasn't foolish, he knew where the fire was coming from and didn't intend to expose himself. Meanwhile, another rifleman, perhaps with a garand, was engaging him with rapid fire, but his aim was slightly off, or perhaps he had not zeroed the rifle as well as he should...