In October of 1967, I was ordered to take a drilling rig and crew to "The Horseshoe." The mission: drill for water, establish a well and pump water to the 'grunts' stationed there. We knew we would make many friends with this venture as hot running showers would endear us forever to the infantry. Our drilling rig was a relic from the Arc", the only one of its type in-country, and the crew for all but one had never been around a drilling rig. Somehow, somewhere, someone managed to find a corporal plant operator who knew how to operate the rig. As for me, I was a Field Engineer Sergeant and drilling was not my cup-of-tea. Anything that smelt of gun powder, Nitro, PETN was a real turn on for me. I was into mines, booby traps, high explosives, demolitions in a big way. That was my area, not drilling for water. Then again, I thought, they may strike a big rock and then I will be like the proverbial pig-in-mud, break out the ear-muff charge and strut my stuff. There is only one way to keep a powder monkey happy my friend, and its not using PE to boil your brew with (could tell you some funny stories about that). We arrived at 'The Horseshoe' and my corporal began the age old art of looking for water. He stood in the paddy and surveyed all that he saw. He struck the ground with his foot and said, "Right here 'Sarg' will do." With that we drove in a peg and waited for the arrival of all our equipment by Sky Crane - "Albatross One." The peg was some 200 metres south west of 'The Horseshoe.' We were literally in the middle of a rice paddy with Dat Do in distant view. Just opposite us was the site where several guys from the Regiment were taken out in their Land Rover with a D10. We felt uncomfortable and were anxious that we were stuck out in the paddy literally as targets for any trigger happy VC or NVA to use as target practice. The Sky Crane delivered our drilling rig along with a KVA and ancillary equipment. It was a rather windy arrival as I remember - down draught from the rotors was in excess of 120mph. After setting out the drilling site I wandered up to the 'Shoe' and inquired as to when our rifle section might be placed on the ground for close protection. The answer was a bit different to what I had expected. Our close protection was the 'Shoe'. We were within all their fire zones, under surveillance from forward pits and night vision equipment would take care of the rest. If a fire fight broke out, we were to retreat to the 'Shoe' and let the 'grunts' take care of the rest. After all, they had the high ground and were in the best position to notice any pyjamas in the paddy. Having sorted all that out it was to work and finding the water table. We were to work around the clock in shifts. The rig was set up complete with lights. Whatever cordial relationships we had developed were soon lost when we kicked the rig into operation. Generator noise and a blaze of lights rendered the infantry both blind and deaf in relation to our position. The lights rendered the night vision equipment useless and the generator killed their ability to hear. What we effectively did was create a black hole that they couldn't see into. Only trouble was they forgot to tell us immediately. When they did, we were too far into the operation to change tactics. It was a real catch '22'. The rig looked like Luna Park on a balmy summers night. Driving a drilling rig is serious stuff. It requires good reflexes, a sense of touch coupled with great coordination. The drilling stem is raised and lowered by a clutch assembly. The idea is to hold the stem and operate the clutch by touch. A seasoned operator makes it look easy but for a novice, well... My corporal made it look like child's play and turned it into an art form. The crew was impressed. Anyway, I demanded that I try what appeared to be an easy task. After all, how hard could it be to raise and lower a drill stem. "She'll be right corp", I said. "It won't take long to master this baby." After some verbal instructions it was time for the big test. The corporal decided that he should guide the stem for the first few minutes and after I got the hang of it he would toddle off for a brew. The clutch was disengaged and I slowly engaged the clutch to raise the stem. Up she came and took the corporal at lightening speed to the top of the drilling rig. Having arrived at the top he was then catapulted to ground zero with equal lightening speed. Amidst his cries and blasphemies he was taken even quicker to the top and spat out into the rice paddy. One of my sappers scored him a 9.6 for his dive. The highest ever awarded off a water drilling rig. What a ride! He picked himself up, dusted himself off and promptly used some expletives to tell me where to go. I and the others by this stage were in fits of laughter. Fair dinkum, it was the funniest thing I'd seen. If there were any VC watching and had any idea of taking us on it was soon dispensed with amidst our antics. I decided discretion was greater than another attempt at the drill stem and crept off into the night to retire. I slid into my bag and spent the night with the biggest, blackest, ugliest scorpion known to man. Fortunately for me I was unaware of my overnight visitor until I heard the soft whisper of my corporal bringing me back to reality, "Sarg, wake up - don't move a muscle, don't even breathe." With that I opened my eyes to see the butt of his SLR coming at me. Before I could flinch he had knocked this visitor off my shoulder and extended it's overall length by about three inches. I was left with a nice bruise to which my corporal said, "We are even Sarg." He smiled and went back to doing what he does best, drilling. Oh, by the way, the nasty measured 8" across the claws, outside to outside. I pondered on the night and came to the conclusion that I should stick to field engineering and leave the operation of drilling rigs to the pro's. I never found out if the grunts had ever witnessed our little incident. I suspect that they did from some of the comments we got over the radio. Oh, by the way, we hit the water table, capped the well and set the pump for the 'Shoe.' We toddled off and left the plumbing to others.