We had to keep one generator on-line, because the air strip was finished; and we might need the airfield lighting in an emergency. To ease the boredom, I had been watching a praying mantis approach some unremembered insect soooo sloooowly. The motion was almost imperceptible.
The generator shack was like a SEAhut without stilts and one of the few buildings with a light on--just a 60 watt bulb. You could see the pictures (and read the dials), but text wasn't very readable. I wasn't reading, however; I was watching this mantis.
Generators are heavy and noisy and tend to shake a lot when running--plywood wainscoting, screen, corrugated tin roof, canvas blinds down over the screens. Except for the vents for the generator exhausts and the sandbags piled around the wainscoting, it was very much like the standard hootch.
There were three generators at QT Forward; and just before dawn, I would have to bring a second one up, phase it in, and bring it on-line. A second Seabee would be awakened to join me in this simple two-man operation.
If you are patient and don't blink, you can see a mantis strike. It goes from moving so slow that the motion is difficult to detect to a blur so fast it is almost imperceptible.
The generator sputtered, just a change in rhythm. But, to someone attuned to an engine, such a change speaks volumes. I ran over (just a few feet) to the big Buddha. Voltage okay, amp load light, cycles-per-second right on sixty, plenty of fuel...
It had settled down right away, but I was worried about the anomaly. I walked around the machine several times. Damn. There must be something, but I saw nothing awry. I went back to my mantis; but it was gone, as was the prey. Oh well. An eternity of watching, and I had blinked.
I stepped out for a cigarette (against the rules; but at this time of the morning, who's gonna see). I fished the little c-rats box of Lucky's from my pocket, lit it with my Zippo, and glanced over at the north side of the shack. Four points of light shined through the canvas blinds that hadn't been there before.
I flipped the Lucky into the dark and went back inside. Three rounds had flattened themselves against the sides of the "iron monster" and one had glanced off the injector and gone through the other side of the shack. I hadn't been looking for sniper rounds.
My first reaction was to turn off the 60 watt bulb, but then I felt real conspicuous shining a flashlight around the shack. So, I turned the overhead light back on and sat real low on the floor.
This watch would be over in a few hours. Maybe another praying mantis would light on the screen. I had been told that the Vietnamese believed they were good luck and tied them to their ancestral offerings by strings.
Tales from an REMF. Thanks for listening!