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The monsoon has grounded every helicopter, and the platoon is on the wrong side of the water.
It starts at a ford. A signal company truck goes in too fast and rolls over in the current, and Tomczak goes into the flooded cab head first to hold the driver's face up in the last pocket of air. Ross, a sergeant who joined First Squad that morning, pulls the door open beside him.
Then the rain does not stop. The paddies become one moving flood, a channel with no bridge splits the platoon, and the cloud sits on the treetops so nothing can fly. Nordby's notch in a bamboo stake is under water every morning. The wounded go into boats and down the flood, Tomczak goes with them, and the syrettes in his flap pocket have to be counted against how far it is to anywhere.
