1st Battalion 22nd Infantry Monkey in the foxhole

1st Battalion 22nd Infantry

Monkey in the foxhole

by Michael Belis

Third Platoon Charlie Company 1/22 Infantry was in the jungle between An Khe and Binh Khe during September and October
of 1970. Mostly we moved on trails all day long, stopping at around 4 or 5 in the afternoon to set up an NDP (Night Defensive Position)
where we would spread out in a circle amongst the jungle growth, vegetation and trees, and stay the night. We would ring the perimeter
with foxholes, three guys to a hole. Not far behind the hole we would snap two ponchos together and stretch them over branches
to make a tent, which we called a “hooch”, with a third poncho as ground cover. Each guy would take his turn in the hole on guard duty,
usually 2 or 4 hours at a time, then crawl back to the hooch to wake up the next one for his turn.

This is us (3rd Platoon) in the jungle 1970. In the foreground are ponchos stretched over cut branches to make a “hooch” (tent).
An air mattress can be seen on the ground inside the “hooch”. This is a thin part of the jungle without the usual triple-canopy of treetops
overhead to block out the sky. In those areas under the triple canopy there was no moonlight and at night everything was so dark
you had no vision. You could not see anything, no matter how close.

Photo by Michael Belis

It was pitch black in the jungle at night, so dark you couldn't see your hand in front of your face. Guard duty consisted of
listening for sounds. Asleep in the hooch I was awakened by Lewis at about 2am for my next turn and as we moved by
each other he whispered in my ear "There's a monkey in the foxhole." I managed a groggy "What?" but he was already in the hooch
and out to sleep. I took my position sitting on the edge of the hole with my rifle across my lap and my legs hanging inside the hole.
After eating we would toss our empty and half eaten c-ration cans down in the bottom of the foxholes, in one corner, so that when
we moved out in the morning and filled in the holes, the litter we left behind would be buried, so the NVA (North Vietnamese Army)
couldn't use any of it.

About ten minutes after starting my turn on guard there came a noise from my left, the sound of metal clinking. It scared the hell
out of me when I realized it came from the end of the foxhole I was sitting in. Then I remembered what Lewis had said. I was
sharing the hole with a monkey, four or five feet away from me. It was too dark to see him, but from the sounds he was making
I could tell that he was going through our discarded food cans and eating the scraps and remnants from them.

At first it was kind of neat to have the little fella there, but he was sure making noise as he would go through the cans.
And when he was finished with a can he would throw it down in the hole, hitting other cans and making more noise.
To me it seemed like he was making as much noise as a full brass band and was giving away my exact position
to the entire North Vietnamese Army. Not good.

For an instant I thought of shooting him, but I couldn't even see him, and for all I knew I might hit the guys in the next hole instead,
besides telling the NVA exactly where everybody was. I scooped up a handful of dirt and threw it in his direction. He made little
pitter-patter sounds as he scurried out of the hole. All was quiet for about ten or so minutes, then he was back going through the cans again.

This went on intermittently for the rest of my turn, and at one point he threw down a can and hit me square in the leg. I had to
calm down, knowing that even if I managed to jump on the little SOB in the dark and strangle him, he would have hurt me bad
in the process, and they don't give Purple Heart Medals for being torn up by a monkey. When it was time I crawled back to the
hooch and woke up “Utah” for his turn at guard. I felt his shoulder, got close and whispered to him "There's a monkey in the foxhole."
In seconds I was asleep and out like a light.

The next afternoon as we were setting up our next NDP, the three of us all talked about the monkey, and how he had scared,
aggravated and angered us one by one through the night.

Vietnamese Rhesus monkey on the shoulder of an American G.I. This one is young but full grown this species didn’t get too much bigger than this.
Even if they had a sweet disposition they were still basically a wild animal. If you scared him or got him mad, this little guy could and would
bite off a couple of your fingers.

Photo from David Ondrejko who was in Company B at the same time I was in Company C.

Standing, left is Charles Lewis, mentioned in above story. A week or so after the monkey incident while we were
still out in the jungle he came down with malaria. Racked with fever he shivered and sometimes violently shook all night long.
We covered him with our poncho liners and a poncho but he still shivered non-stop as if he was freezing cold. Next morning we got a
medivac helicopter out to us and they brought him back to the hospital at the Base Camp at An Khê. This photo was taken
in the Company area at the Base Camp about a month or so later when he was back with us on full duty. Also in photo, squatting down
in front is Dodd “Utah” Owens, who is also mentioned in above story.

Photo by Michael Belis

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