Vietnam, 1968. We were deep in the Central Highlands, just trying to stay alive. Our recon unit had set up camp near a clearing. The jungle was thick, and the air was sticky and hot. I was on watch that night when the usual jungle noises just... stopped.
Then, I heard it—a low growl. My buddies and I went on high alert. Out of nowhere, a huge Bengal tiger appeared, eyes glowing in the dark. It was like something out of a nightmare. We stood there, frozen, guns ready, but not sure what to do.
Suddenly, the tiger charged. We fired our M16s, but it moved like lightning. One second it was here, the next it was there. It took one of our guy before we even knew what was happening. I remember diving to the ground to dodge a swipe that could’ve taken my head off.
Eventually, the tiger, bleeding from our shots, backed off and disappeared into the jungle. We lost a men that night, and several others were hurt. It was a harsh reminder that Vietnam wasn’t just a warzone—it was a wild place where anything could happen.