Monthly Archives: March 2017

Steve Bell – Gun Crew – Part Two

The Wild Life

There were cockroaches and rats everywhere, and poisonous snakes: cobras and kraits. One of our guys shot a six foot krait snake from underneath a hooch.

Gary Sears with banded krait
Gary Sears with banded krait 

The krait is one of the world’s deadliest snakes. It’s bite injects a powerful neurotoxin, and if untreated is fatal within six to twelve hours. There is little or no pain at the site of the krait bite, creating a false reassurance in the victim. If bitten at night while asleep the victim can die without ever waking.

The rats were so bad that one night a guy on Gun 5 from Wisconsin woke up with a big rat chewing on his toe. One night I set a spring trap in my hooch, and every time it sprang on a rat I’d throw the rat out the door and reset the trap. Five minutes later it would go off again. It was BANG BANG BANG all night long.

There was an old hooch we tore down, and when we pushed over the first wall the rats and cockroaches rolled out like a wave and we had to jump to get out of the way. You didn’t want to set your beer down very long because the cockroaches would be all over it.

Haunted Hooch

Sgt. Rock was the new Gun 5  crew chief and a real nice kid. He was built like a brick shithouse and worked out all the time to stay in shape, and I supposed to fight the boredom of life on our base.

Sergeant Rock
Sergeant Rock

Shortly after coming to Gun 5 he decided we needed to build him a new hooch. This hooch Rock wanted was going to be twice the size of the normal hooches, and would hooch three people. So we collected ammo boxes. We rounded up god knows how many sand bags and piled into the back of our deuce-and-a-half. Where we needed to get the sand was outside the wire a ways. We went with our shovels and M16s. This new hooch was going to take days and days of sandbag and shovel work. As our hole got larger and deeper we started running into all these wooden planks. Big deal, right? Well we just kept on digging. Come to find out LZ Sherry was built close to a small village that had long since disappeared. All around our sandbag dig we could see bits and pieces of the village just showing above the dirt.

Remnant of the villagee
Remnant of the village

As we kept digging and filling the sandbags, we started to run into bones. First a femur, then a few ribs, and the next thing I know I dig up a human pelvis. Well that just about freaked us all out. We scrambled into our truck and called it quits on that hole.

The next day we were told that was the only place with good sand where we could dig safely, so here we went to dig more bones. When you’re nineteen years old not much bothers you though. Any bones we dug up after that we buried in the end. To this day it still does not bother me, I don’t know why. After that hooch was built I always thought of it as the haunted hooch.

The Best Birthday Present

This story starts two days before my twentieth birthday, when my gun chief came to my hooch and told me to pack for a short trip to Cam Ranh. He told me I had been chosen to become the battery projectionist. They wanted me to attend a two day class to learn to operate different movie projectors. Well I was new to LZ Sherry and thought movies would be fun for everyone. And I had a hometown friend in Cam Ranh that was a photographer for the navy and I might get to see him. I was all for this trip. I soon  found myself in a one day crash class for projection operation with no spare time to see my friend.

On my birthday I jumped on a Chinook for the one hundred mile trip back to LZ Sherry. We had about four other guys coming along with us. They were going to Phan Thiet after the chopper dropped off at LZ Sherry. Being that I was new in country and liked to take photos of everything, I spent my time hanging out the back port window taking pictures of the landscape from the air.

As I was hanging out the window I heard over the noise of the engines a series of very loud bangs, like someone was beating the chopper with a sledge hammer. I just turned my head in time for the crew chief to grab me by my shirt and throw me to the floor. The Chinook went into a ninety degree bank and started losing altitude. We were going down fast and everyone was on the floor. Finally it dawned on me we were taking fire and were hit. I really was scared shitless and if we kept losing altitude we were going to crash. Now this all happened all in about thirty seconds. The crew chief told me we were hit and losing hydraulics.

We finally leveled off, but we were not out of the woods yet, as we did not know if we would make it back to LZ Sherry. I was thinking: Great, three weeks in country and I was going to crash in the rice paddies in the middle of nowhere. Everyone was pretty amped up as we flew low and limped our way back to Sherry. We did make it and I almost kissed the ground when we landed.

The Chinook was damaged and could not take off for Phan Thiet. Sherry had a few extra guests that night, and we were put on yellow alert that night because the chopper was a prime target for attack. Those photographs I took out of the Chinook window always remind me of how I almost bit the big one on my twentieth birthday.

Picture just before chopper hit with machine gun fire
Picture just before chopper hit with machine gun fire

It’s A Guy Thing

The strongest memory I have about coming home on the plane is the stewardess going down the aisle spraying air freshener. She told us we smelled. I couldn’t smell anything, but I guess she did.

Steve Bell – Gun Crew – Part One

Snoopy’s Luck

I was nineteen in 1969 when a buddy and I sat in my VW listening to the dates for the draft lotto. I was young, had a good job and honestly did not want to go to the Army. So as we waited for our birthdates to come up we drank a few beers, both hoping our youthful good luck would give us each a high number, lessening our chances of being drafted.

As luck turned out my number ended up being thirteen, and my buddy’s three hundred and something. My friend never did go, but my story was different. I am color blind, have a heart murmur, and a knee that likes to pop out of joint. Still I passed the Army physical with no problem. The Army doctor did not hear a thing when he listened to my chest. Yet when I got out of the Army and applied for a DOT job, the old doctor had me step up and down a few times on a low stepping stool and said right away, “Yep, you’ve got a murmur.” Six months after my Army physical I found myself in Ft. Lewis, Washington getting a butch haircut, courtesy of Uncle Sam.

June 1970 I found myself hurrying down a sand road on LZ Betty to find my chopper out to Sherry. As I carried my duffle bag over my shoulder and worked to keep my footing, I noticed something shiny sticking out of the sand just off the road. I picked it up and found that it was a nice Zippo lighter. It was engraved on both sides. One side was Snoopy standing on top of his doghouse riddled with bullet holes. He is wearing aviator goggles and his aviator cap with his fist in the air. Underneath Snoopy it read: Fuck you Red Barron. On the other side was Psalm 23.4: Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, and so forth. It was a nice lighter and I did smoke and needed one.

Lighter similar to Steve’s
Lighter similar to Steve’s

As I neared the chopper I remembered what the guys who gave me my orders told me to do, with me being a cherry and all. They told me to hang on and don’t fall out the chopper door as the door would be wide open. When I got at Sherry the chopper would not land due to the danger of enemy fire. They said it would hover about six feet off the ground and I had to jump and run. I thought: Oh God, was this lighter an omen? Was I scared.

I reached my chopper ride and hopped in. It was a short ride and I took snapshots of the area, noting all the rice paddies and the lack of trees. After a short flight we approached Sherry and circled the base, and for the first time I saw what a real firebase looked like. I saw a lot of sandbag bunkers, two tanks (the Dusters), many rows of concertina wire surrounding the whole base and all six guns in their parapets. The guns were not the same I was trained on at Ft. Sill, but something new I had never seen before. They turned out to be the new M-102s with longer range, much easier to air lift and set up.

As we circled I was thinking of the directions they told me back at LZ Betty about jumping from the chopper. So as we came in I was a lot nervous and readied myself for anything. After all, I was a cherry big time. The chopper didn’t hover but gently sat down on the pad, much to my relief. As I got my bag off I kind of laughed at those guys at Betty. I bet they told all the cherries to jump and had a good laugh also.

So My life at LZ Sherry for nearly fourteen months began. I kept that lighter the entire time I was at LZ Sherry, but lost it the very day we pulled up our guns to leave the base. So I think it served me well and was a good luck charm. I went home safe. Silly things stick in you head when you’re a kid.

First Action

My first week at LZ Sherry I am put on Gun 5, named Barbarella and the battery base piece. (Base piece fired the first adjusting rounds of a fire mission, followed by the other guns.) Everyone on Gun 5 was very friendly and helpful when I first got there. Some guys had been there for awhile and knew the ropes. For the first few days I just got to learn the layout of the base and was introduced to the new M-102 howitzer that I had never seen before.

Bell and Barbarella
Bell and Barbarella

I ended up sharing a hooch with two other guys, and that helped a lot. I was the third man in the hooch. Usually only two men were put in a hooch but they already had a full crew and I was  extra. My hooch partners were Clay and a guy from Wisconsin, his name was Hansen. I did have a cot, though and the only space was just inside the door. Most hooches were very small with two sections to them, the entrance and the sleeping area separated by a blast wall. The wall was there just in case of sappers. I slept in the blast wall entrance area.

On the fourth night, a very black night, Hansen and Clay and I were playing some cards in the hooch and we heard some distant thumps. I didn’t think anything of them, as at night guns went off all night long. Hansen and Clay jumped up yelling INCOMING and next the siren was blasting. My hooch partners grabbed helmets and flack jackets, yelled at me to stay put and not go outside, to wait until the mortars hit. They were out of the hooch in a split second.

I just sat there stunned for about three seconds after they left and thought: Shit, this is the real deal. Also I remember thinking: I got to go, this is what I am here for, my new friends are out there, and I should be with them. This all took place in just a few seconds. I hit the door and was exposed. I was shaking and scared, but thinking also of my duty. It was a straight shot to the Gun 5 parapet, about eighty feet across the road. I got about ten feet out the door and noticed it was no longer pitch black. Illumination rounds were lit overhead, and men, guns and hooches all swung to and fro caused by the illumination parachutes swinging above. The smoke from the howitzers was so heavy it was like fog, and I will never forget that smell. As I got closer to my gun I could see the parapet lit up. The scene was like having tunnel vision, shadows and light swinging, but also strobing from gun flashes.

When I reached the gun everyone was doing their thing. I couldn’t believe the gun could fire that fast, but the boys were pumping her. They needed ammo fast so I tried to get my shit together and do what I was trained to do. I did do it, and today am proud of my actions during my first enemy action. I don’t think I slept the rest of that night. I had to pull guard but was too worked up to sleep anyway. This was the first of many mortar, rocket and small arms attacks I experienced on LZ Sherry, but this time everyone came though safe.

Mike Leino – Fire Direction Control – Part Three

Going Home From the Nam

I was at LZ Sherry for almost 14 months. I had signed up for the five month early out of the Army if I would extend in Nam for another two months. So I did it cuz I don’t think I could have handled the spit and shine stateside after being in Nam. I don’t think I could have handled five extra months of military. Yep, it was a long two extra months. I kept my butt way low that last two.

Toward the end the way it worked out I was on night shift and got back to my hooch for a good sleep, did what I had to do to get comfortable, and went to sleep. I got woke up by someone, don’t remember who, but they said, “Pack your stuff, cuz you’re going home on the next chopper.”

In a daze I said, “Get the fuck out of here before I shoot you,” while I am reaching for my M-16 that was next to me on the wall. Whoever it was left of hooch quickly. They sent someone else back to tell me it was true: I’m going home. For some reason the Army was giving two-week early-outs from Nam. I was short but never thought I’d get it.

Anyway, the second guy that came to tell me the news (I believe it this time) said that I got only a little bit of time to get packed, cuz that chopper was on its way. I don’t remember anything else but getting on the Huey and looking at the back of the pilot’s helmet. It said TRAVERSE CITY, MICHIGAN. He asked me where I was from. I said, “Detroit Michigan.”

And he said, “Cool, I’ll take you for a good last ride.”

We dropped to ground level chasing water buffaloes and making the mama sans dive into rice patties. I finally said, “Get this thing high because I don’t want to die in a chopper.” WHAT A RIDE!

Did all the processing out in Phan Thiet, Phan Rang and Cam Rahn Bay. Got as drunk and stoned as I could at each place. It was pretty smooth going to finally getting on that Freedom Bird.

Once on the jet I couldn’t believe it. American women!!! WOW!!! They were nice. I just didn’t know how to act. I think I felt like a dirty animal.

There were hoots and hollers once we took off. I think my jet was going to explode once we saw the coastline go away. I think I slept all the way back. I guess after almost fourteen months of Vietnam I was ready for a good nap.

It’s a Whole New World

Got to the state of Washington after refueling in Guam I think, and it was all kinds of processing out again. “Put all your contraband in the big garbage cans before you go through these gates.” Who would be that stupid to try to get something through them gates? Like someone said before, you mailed it home.

Physical and mental checkups were done on us. We were all mentally shot. At that point we would have barked like monkeys if they asked us to. Sign a thousand papers, here’s your plane ticket home and $600.

Washington to San Francisco. San Francisco was not cool. Got called all kinds of names and I hid out at the USO till my flight to Chicago. Same at O’Hare on way to Detroit. Detroit my brother and sister-in-law were waiting for me. My brother had a bottle of Ripple and a joint for me for the ride home. It was morning too. My whole family was at my mom and dads when we arrived home. I cried! My so-called girlfriend was there too. My dad even took the day off for my coming home. It was great at home with my family. Lots of drinking and talking and getting buzzed.

Later that evening my girlfriend and I went back to her apartment and she gave me some tea (with LSD in it) then told me she had a boyfriend. I told her I hope you are happy and adios. Trying to drive back to my folks house was definitely a trip. I don’t know if I even had a drivers license anymore. Got back to the folks house and they were still partying. (It was good). A a lot of my buddies found out I was home and came by and it turned out to be a good night. Really got high. Mom and dad, brother, sister and friends were buzzed and drunk.

After that I noticed things have really changed and I’m thinking I don’t know if I like this too much. Stupid stuff really pissed me off. The buddy I got drafted with because of that trouble in Detroit got out of the army about three weeks after I got home. We did a lot of crazy stuff together. I think I could write a book about a crazy vet and his friend.

Summing up

I am not a crazy druggie or drunk! Some people back in Detroit say I was pretty out there. I guess it was just trying to figure what I was going to do. Just trying to catch up to the world. I tried everything without hesitation, had to find out what worked for me and what didn’t.

Now I am a peace loving guy that has a family. I enjoy a few beers and a couple hits of pot a couple times a week to calm me down when I get in hyper moods – it helps.

I am in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan where my folks are from. Backwoods! Copper mining country. This is where my ancestors came to from Finland to make a new life for themselves after the Finnish-Russian war. A beautiful part of the country, but way too much snow. Gettin’ too old to move it around. Snow blowers and shovels are too hard anymore. Thinkin’ about Arizona where my son and his family are. Beautiful there.

I am going to veterans hospitals pretty regular now. Prostate cancer and forty-seven radiation treatments. My insides are not the same. Now I’m getting heart and vascular checkups and monitored pretty regular. They say it’s due to Agent Orange. To tell the truth I feel messed up. That’s where the beers and pot come in. Makes me feel good. So tired of doctors and appointments. Being in the boonies of the UP it’s a ride to a VA hospital. There has got to be a change where the civilian hospitals work with the VA.

Anyway, I’m not going to be a cry baby. I’m proud that I served with the 5/27. To me it was, let’s say, a well oiled machine. I loved everyone, well minus a couple. I tried to be a good guy and dependable. I’ve always loved new faces. I just hope I didn’t let anyone down. I did the best I could. Changed my life in a lot of different ways. I guess you could say I’ve got a lot of brothers from being put on LZ Sherry with a lot of good people.

Adios, Bros.

Mike Leino – Fire Direction Control – Part Two

Smart Enough

One day someone came to my hooch and told me the captain wanted to see me, and I said, “Why?”

“Don’t know,” he said.

I went to the Captain’s hooch wondering what I did wrong. In his hooch he asked me if I was interested in going into Fire Direction Control. I said, “What?? Why me?”

He said my test scores showed I was smart enough. Whoa! That’s a first. He said there was a shortage of trained FDC people, and we have FDC people leaving and we needed someone now.

I said, “I can’t leave the gun and I know nothing about FDC.”

He also said, “You would be protected during mortar attacks.”

I still said, “I don’t think so.”

He said, “I can make you, so think about it for a day or two.”

I finally said I would go into FDC. But all I could think is the guys on Gun 1 are gonna hate me. I just figured being in a sandbag hooch is safer for the remainder of time I had left at Sherry.

It was not easy for me going into FDC. All the guys in there were older and seemed a little too brainy and serious than what I was used to.

So the training began. Charts, maps, calculating, deflection, wind direction. What??? I was terrible at math in high school. I think the brainiacs didn’t have too much patience with me. Then I had to learn the radios and giving the commands to the guns on fire missions. I picked up on that pretty quick. Learning the codes for ordering supplies and ammo from the rear areas. I liked working the radios the most.

Mike Leino on his radios
Mike Leino on his radios

As time went on and the older guys were going home, younger guys were coming into FDC and it was becoming more comfortable and less stressful. It was a little crazy when getting mortars coming in and I had to go outside to the generator shack to switch over to a different generator, because one was about to run out of gas. Sometimes I’d just go and talk to the guys I was with on the guns. It was like a break. It broke up the boredom of just being in FDC.

The guys that were in FDC at the end of my tour were great. Ed, you and Kim Martin I liked the best. Kim and I had built a new hooch together. I have to say it was a good one. Another one I really liked was Lieutenant Christenson. He was not like any brass I had encountered. It’s like he was one of us. I got a couple little stories about him I don’t think I should tell! Medics were cool guys too.

I have to say I’m glad we were allowed to have a beer there. I know it put my head in a different place. There was also another tidbit that would put my mind somewhere else too. The rut of fire direction and sleeping really got to me, so I had to party anyway I could. I know Smoke knew I was doing something, but I was always a step ahead of him.

Leino in party mode
Leino in party mode

Comment from Kim Martin, hooch mate and fellow FDC guy:

Mike and I got to be pretty close in Nam. He gave me an embroidered ribbon-like cloth about twelve inches long and two inches wide with the word VIETNAM stitched in the middle which I keep in my den on an antique table from my mother.  It reminds me of those days long ago in Nam with Mike in particular, and other friends I made there. Mike had a great sense of humor and was a really good guy. I was lucky to share a hootch with him, which we built together.

Mike Leino resting on new hooch – Version 2

Mike and Kim taking a break Pictures by Kim Martin
Mike and Kim taking a break
Pictures by Kim Martin

Comment from 1st Lieutenant Bob Christenson:

 I remember Mike as kind of a quiet, introspective guy who didn’t say a lot but was taking it all in. In retrospect he was probably like the rest of us trying to figure out, What the hell am I doing here? He was an integral part of FDC though, and you could always count on Mike. I’m glad he had my back.

 When I think of Mike, two things stand out. First, I remember the firebase dogs, who were great judges of character. They liked Mike a lot. I recall that Tag was particularly close to Mike and vice versa.  Smoke, our FDC dog, was the son of Tag and Crash. Everyone on the firebase was really bummed the day Top had most of the dogs killed, and I think Mike was particularly upset. I think it took him a long time to get over it.

My other recollection is the day Mike saved someone’s life when they were out burning trash. Apparently the guy doused the trash in gasoline and splashed some on himself. When he lit the trash he lit himself. As I heard the story, the guy started to run and Mike tackled him and rolled with him to put the fire out. Mike was OK but the other guy was seriously burned and was sent back to the states. Mike never hesitated to put himself in danger to save this person, and I think that tells you everything you need to know about Mike. I put him in for a well-deserved medal, but was later told the battalion commander nixed it because he was afraid it would look bad if someone in his command broke Army regs by burning trash with gas.

Mike was a solid guy and an integral part of the FDC team.  Hard to believe that we were there over 45 years ago.

Picture by Bob Christenson Written on the back: “Mike Leino’s gear, now home and out of the Army”
Picture by Bob Christenson
Written on the back: “Mike Leino’s gear, now home and out of the Army”

Comment from Ed Gaydos, FDC section chief:

When I arrived at Sherry in early May of 1970 there were three guys in FDC brought in from the gun crews. All of them had learned the complexities of fire direction on the job. This was one of the most difficult specialties in the Army, and I was impressed.

Mike always had a dreamy, screw-the-Army attitude about him. Yet he took particular care about everything he did, sometimes moving in what seemed to me slow motion. He built the tightest sandbag wall on the firebase, each bag arranged like large bricks. This deliberate approach served him well in FDC. Working the radios or figuring firing data from charts and graphs and slide rules, I don’t remember him ever making a mistake or losing his cool under pressure. And of course, he was more than smart enough.

Mike Leino – Fire Direction Control – Part One

Editor’s Note

Mike sent me his stories handwritten, printed in the neat hand that made him the go-to sign maker at LZ Sherry.

Mike at work on a sign Picture by Kim Martin
Mike at work on a sign
Picture by Kim Martin

Like a Hooch

 Cover letter from Mike:

Hey Ed, Leino here.

I sure hope you don’t mind if I contribute to your book this way. It’s the most comfortable way for me. After reading all the memories from the other guys I feel like why not, it’s cool. Reading it all got me thinking about a lot I had forgotten.

I got a room in my basement where I listen to music and do some art, have some beers and a couple hits, and figured it’s a perfect time to write some things down. I guess the room is like a hooch.

A lot of what has been said is what I remember but I think I can add a few things. All I know is that we could be bored out of our minds and then total chaos.

Well Ed, I don’t know how much I’ll come up with but here we go.

Wrong Place – Wrong  Time

There was no lottery at the time, just the draft. Us guys, friends of mine, were just out of high school and working at little jobs that were opening up all over Detroit. Job shops! Making parts and components for the manufacturing of war components. Shops all over the place! You could find five jobs in a matter of hours then.

Anyway, all of my friends were hippies. Me too! We loved music and were going to the Grande Ballroom in Detroit to see all the bands from everywhere. We were going to see Led Zeppelin on Friday night. It was Led Zeppelin’s first time in Detroit, and First USA tour. Love their first album. Anyway, we got a ride with some friends to the Grande Ballroom and they said, “We have to stop at the house to cop some (to get high) for the concert.

So we said, “Cool, we will get some too.”

Got to the house, went in, and the next thing we knew every door and window was smashed in and the cops had us at gunpoint. I think there was seventeen people in that house that night. Everyone threw what they had in their hands in the air. I didn’t know any of these people, but I guess they were a lot heavier into the drug scene then I was.

I was hauled off to Precinct One in Detroit. Spent two days in jail, and when the cops interviewed me I said I was just a rider with friends to the concert. Cop didn’t care. He said, “We didn’t get you with anything, but we are still going to let the draft board know about you.”

Got home Sunday morning and walked in my folks’ house, and the first thing my dad said was, “Get a haircut or get out.” I turned around to go out and he said, “Where are you going?”

I said, “To get a haircut.” On Sunday – yeah right!

Instead I went to my brother’s– a hippie too! Stayed there for about two weeks. Then my mom called and said, “Come home and have a chat.”

Long story short, the folks and I got into each other’s heads and it worked out. My folks tried pot with me and liked it I guess. We smoked together quite a few times. Seemed to mellow them.

Anyway, shortly after, my buddy that was with me during the bust and I, we got our draft notices. Both the same day.

Where am I?

This is going to be trouble

When I was flying into Vietnam I was looking out the window of the jet and saw little specs out in the middle of nowhere and thought, what the hell are those? Getting off the jet in Bien Hoe and heading to the buildings or terminal, there was a boom boom boom noise and the guys that were going to get on the jet to go home started hitting the ground. I thought, What is going on? It was incoming mortars, and us new guys had no idea.

After doing all the reporting in and standing in line I was sent all over Vietnam. I guess the Army was trying to figure out where to send me. I enjoyed the NCO clubs in all the places. Finally they found a place for me, a place called Phan Rang, 5th of the 27th . What is that??? They gave me gear and sent me to Phan Thiet. Once there I reported in and whoever was in charge said, “God, do we need the people out there.”

I said, “Out there?”

It turned out to be one of those little specs out in the middle of nowhere. Shit!!! There were guys laying around in the bunks, and I started talking to them and found out that they were wounded and we’re going to be going back out in the field to LZ Sherry. Uh oh!

About a day or two later I was on a chopper with some supplies out to Sherry. I arrived at LZ Sherry in September of 1969. From the helicopter LZ Sherry was in the middle of nowhere. In my head I’m thinking I’m a goner.

Landing on the chopper pad, a big sand and dirt circle clearing, two guys in a jeep where there to pick up me and the supplies.
These guys were pretty grubby. They asked me if I was the new guy. I said, Yep. They asked me where I was from. I said Detroit. Then they asked if I was a “head” (as opposed to a juicer who preferred alcohol). I said, Yep. Next thing I know I am tokin’ with these guys. I went to their hooch and got pretty messed up. Then they blew my mind and said they had to do things and I had to go and report into the captain. How I made it through that, I don’t know.

I was put on Gun 1. The sergeant on Gun 1 was really a nice guy. He put me in a hooch with a black guy named Ed Parker from somewhere in south Michigan. He was a trip, I really liked him.

I was the new guy so I got all the crap jobs on the gun crew. Humping ammo for the gun was the worst. Really hard on the back. The ammo bunkers were low and carrying the rounds out really got me sore, especially during fire missions and martyrs coming in. It was scary. Working on the deuce-and-a-half was not fun either after mortar attacks. Eventually I worked my way up to firing the gun, but it still wasn’t fun when there was incoming.

Leino under a sneak attack Picture restored by Rik Groves
Leino under a sneak attack
Picture restored by Rik Groves