Thursday, July 28, 2011

July 22 - July 25, 1967

50th day, July 22
Mot

Hi (that’s original)

Got up this morning and went to KP. I was lucky though (despite the fact that I ran into a roll of barbed wire in the dark, and ripped a hole in my pants – and me). I only had to work for the morning meal, then they tore down the mess tent and let me off.

It was really quite amazing – in three hours the whole area was completely torn down and packed and ready to go. The artillery people had quite a complete bunker system, but destroyed it in about an hour. I thought it would take all day. All the sandbags were ripped open and burned, along with all the ammo boxes and everything else that they couldn’t take with them. We tore down all our bunkers and burned everything (so Charlie can’t use anything left behind against us – they’ll make hand grenades out of Coke cans.)

Of course, the whole artillery and security had to be in operation all night, for they had to do all the work the day they moved. The artillery fired all night as usual and we stood guard as usual. It’s funny – at first when one of the guns would shoot, I’d bounce clear off the air mattress, and never sleep. But now it doesn’t even phase me, yet I’ll wake up every time for my guard before they come to get me.

Hai

All the guns and heavy stuff were airlifted by Chinook choppers. For about one and a half-hours these monsters were constantly landing and taking off with a load.

They’re about as big as our house, only narrower and twice as tall (maybe a little longer). Those big double blades kick up a 120-mph windstorm when they come in; one blew a loose 155mm round across the road, and a large iron skillet from the mess hall. Another surprised a little kid who got too close and threw him into the rice fields. Didn’t hurt him; just scared the Hell out of him. It served him right though. He was one of many trying to steal food from the pile of supplies the mass hall had ready for pickup.

We ran a column of trucks into Cu Chi and here we are. We’ll stay here tonight and probably tomorrow night, then – what, I don’t know. Looks like that 4-month stay at Sugar Mill turned out to be slightly less than 4 days. That’s the army.

Guess I’ll explain four letters in one day. I’ve been writing every day where possible, but there’s been no place to mail the letters. So, I’ve put the dates on the envelope.

Ba

Hope you opened them in the write/right order. I also got an accumulation of mail (for July 18-22) so I have quite a bit of reading and answering to do tonight (8 letters including your latest letters). Tell the Dispatch that the biggest morale factor here is the knowledge that they only have to spend a year over here, then go home. Also the increasing quality of the services in mail, PX facilities, benefits, savings, etc. They almost make it worthwhile. Also, I suppose the fact that now we’re bringing smoke down on Charlie and he’s losing on ever turn adds to it. From what I’ve seen the morale is high, but I will say there is no one who likes it over here. All this about the wounded soldiers in the hospitals wanting to get better – not to go back home but back to the fighting – I just can’t believe unless maybe there was brain damage.

The big thing though is the 1-year limit on your time. You hear it at least ten times a day from ten different guys “I got 232 days left”, or “I got 12 days left” (would you believe I’ve got 315 days left?)

As far as personalities are concerned, it was Jonathan Winters. He was terrific. It they meant military personalities, I’ve met Sgt. Rock and according to him, Sgt. Rock is the only important person in V. N. (Oh, yes, I had a brief indirect encounter with Gen. Westmoreland, but let’s not mention that any more).

Bon

My reactions to every and anything, you’re getting every day; at least I’m trying to. That, I can promise you.

I’m glad Marlynn Is having a good time at O. C. [Otterbein College] I was her picture in the P. O. [local newspaper] (Wow – you look like a college girl!) in connection with - ? - ? – something about a rhinoceros (sorry I can’t remember exactly). It brought to mind the fact that I‘ve never seen Marlynn perform in public on stage (sorry, again).

Mother said Marlynn is “growing up so fast”; said she saw her drive into the driveway (well, congratulations, at least you missed the fire plug and birch trees.) and “she looked like she was 23 instead of 16 – gray hairs already. That’s nothing, you looked 19 when you were twelve.

Jere, buddy, you’d better hope you can get to school before you get grabbed – then again they’ll get you when you get out, but maybe this will be over by then. The way it’s going, it could be over before I leave. But as Ho Chi Minh says, “We (NVN) can afford to lose longer than the US can afford to win.” Grim truth. 



Nam
Yes, I got your butterfly letter – airmail, of course. Also, what cartoon of a duckling? I remember so such animal. Maybe I was asleep too. Too much morphine sulfate?

Back in Charlie, Charlie (radio code for Cu Chi base camp)

P.S. I just had a [light bulb]. In addition to the bad habits, language, etc that we’ve given these people, we’ve made them swindlers, cheats, thieves, etc. They’re also drunks, dope addicts (in the field the beer’s free for GIs) and 75% of the female population from age 12 to 25 are prostitutes. Maybe Jere would like it after all.


51 days, July 23

That’s right, we’re leaving tomorrow; again for about 4 months. This time we’ll be attacked to a group of A. R. V. N. doing, for the first time for this platoon, the platoon’s actual mission – recon. In fact, the lieutenant says he’s never heard of any recon platoon anywhere doing recon until now.

We’re going to an area where no Americans have ever been. The place used to be lousy with VC, but it is generally uninhabited now. We’re supposed to gather intelligence from the area with the help of the ARVN, and National Police, about the area and possible VC left there. We’ll be living in an ARVN compound, I hope, and doing work on jeeps, on foot, and by helicopter. We’ll be on our own. Nobody over us except our own lieutenant – that part should be beautiful; the lieutenant is a great guy and a good officer.

That’s all I know, except they did say that they would try to have mail every-other day, if possible.

We had the day off today, to go to the PX, etc. Just hot and lazy all day. I’m no longer the “new guy” now. Three new guys have been assigned to Recon. They only have a half a month in country, and are going to the field already – guess I was lucky; they didn’t get a waiting period, they went to school the second day they got here.

I should be getting some pictures back soon, which I’ll send home as soon as possible. Also, Dave Ogg is sending my Argus slide camera to me, so now I’ll be able to take pictures out in the field.
I hope you noticed my writing is a little bit improved. I think it’s the paper. I just got it today and it has a special sheet with heavy black line so I write straighter and a little clearer maybe.

The thing is I write the same way I talk, too fast and I get mixed up in both, and make mistakes – leaving out letters, adding letters, misspelling, thinking one thing and writing another. At times I’ll make a mistake and cross it out, make the same one again, cross it out, and so on. Or throw the whole page away and start over.

It’s also the way I think my writing – the things I say – is spontaneous. I put the first thing down that comes to mind. If it happens to be the right thing, I can think of a few comments to go along with it; if I’m in the wrong mood, or just happen to put something down that doesn’t ring a bell or something – nothing happens, dull letter. If I try to stop and think what I’m going to say before I write it, I draw a blank.

Everything has to be spontaneous if it doesn’t come to mind instantly it doesn’t have a chance. I often think of something I should have said afterward, but it’s too late. It it’s a real gem, I write it down and save it for some other time, hoping that writing it down will make it stick; I never look at it again, usually.

About the only pre-planning I do is to jot down high points of the day and trust my reactions and comments too memory – it usually turns out pretty good. It isn’t hard, while I write I try to think of what I would say if talking to you in person – anything I ever say is the same way – anything that pops into my weird little mind – and I stress “little”. On the move again, Bob

PS  I know this is short but I thought I’d send it so you’d know what’s happening and you’d know why you might not get another for a few days – it might take a while before I can mail any more, but I will write if I can, if I have to summarize two or three days together.



53 day, 25 July ’67

Mot

From the Bao Trai Hilton,

We moved out this morning headed for the field once again. Our base of operations was supposed to be Gladys (artillery sight we were securing a few days ago) but the lieutenant didn’t like where they tried to put us – it was as bad as Sugar Mill, only with tents. He said no thank-you and we came to Bao Trai (Bow Try – bow as in bow-wow) where our headquarters were. They gave us a shed for our barracks and now here we are – Bao Trai Hilton. Only thirty steps away from the Bao Trai International Airport.

This place is all right. We’re right inside Bao Trai itself in an ARVN compound. It’s more like a resort area in a way – palm trees and grass, concrete sidewalks, stucco buildings, flush toilets; there’s a garden with picnic tables and umbrellas on a patio outside the club.  The club is more than adequate; TV, movies, pool, drinks from Coke to martinis, mixed by real Vietnamese bartenders, and sandwiches, hamburgers, etc.

There’s a girl that comes around every morning and picks up any laundry and sweeps out our hutch. Laundry is one-day service. All this cost 500p a month per man.

Our hutch isn’t really that great. Just a wooden building about 20’x16’. Has a tin roof and concrete floor. The sides are solid about three feet high, then the rest is open up to the roof, “screened-in’ by lattice work. There’s a shelf at one end for the equipment. We’ve got about 18 guys sleeping on the floor on air mattresses. With everybody all sprawled out, it looks like a Civil War field hospital. Nearly everyone has their mosquito net up, and all their clothes, weapons, and equipment hanging on the wall, from the rafters, or on the lattice work.

It’s really nice, though; dry and comfortable. They’re going to let us bring our cots; and foot lockers out soon. The club is open from 12 noon to 12 at night. Only one thing disagreeable with the compound; we’re right beside the helicopter pad. This is bad, not only because of noise, but when they come in and take off, they blow all the clothes, etc., off the lattice.

We’re free to wear just about what we want. Everybody has a hat (similar to mine) and a few have camouflage fatigues to match or contrast. It’ll make quite an interesting group portrait.

Hai

If course there’s a catch to all this. Our job is recon. We’re attached to a gung-ho group of ARVNs and American advisors. They move (mostly on foot) quickly and precisely. When they get intelligence reports of VC, they go out, try to find them, and when they do, they drop back and call support. If they don’t find them, they come back in. If they have to fight, they will, but their captain, an American, has priority when calling artillery in. Instead of calling a couple of rounds at a time as is the normal practice, he’ll call in all ten guns, sometimes six round each. Even for 5 or 6 VC, it’s 10 guns, one or two rounds each. They don’t play around.

Most of the time it is find the VC, drop back with as little contact as possible, and call in either artillery or gunships. We’re not to engage them in a firefight while waiting for support unless there’s no other way out. In 9 months since they started this, they’ve either captured or killed 300 or more VC – quite a record for a 20-man platoon! They’re a good group.

Now they’ve got our 26 men plus four gun jeeps, our .50 caliber machine gun on the ¾ ton truck and our 106 jeeps.

We went out this afternoon. They call it humping. We drove sown a deserted road and stopped. Everybody loaded up with grenades and ammo. Everybody had at least 100 rounds of machine gun ammo across his shoulders. We started out across the rice fields in a line, 26 men abreast, 10 meters apart, covers a lot of ground. The ARVNs went ahead of us about a hundred meters in the same type of formation.

Those rice fields are murder. A foot or two of water, on top of six inches to a foot or more of mud. They’re all plowed up and you can’t step without stumbling or tripping over the clods of mud. You can’t see where they are, because they’re under water. You just plod along hoping you hit a good spot each time. With 200 rounds of machine gun ammo, you really sink.. Then you have to pull your feet out each step.. You’re tired in the first 10 minutes.

We humped the paddies for an hour, then came to some hedgerows and thick jungle.

Ba

This stuff is impossible to get through. It’s so thick you have to stay within double arms-length of each other to maintain contact. Even then, it’s only voice contact – you can’t see three feet to either direction. The bamboo and thorns cut you to pieces – I ripped a pair of pants so bad they can’t be mended. I might as well rip the other leg and make shorts out of them.

Somehow we made it out of the woods and started across the fields again. Hadn’t gone far before we received two rounds of sniper fire from the wood-line we had just been through. We turned around and went back in and found nothing (except butterflies)
.
The captain decided to go back in and call it a day. As we left the woods for the last time, we looked back and about a hundred meters to our left we saw a gook casually walking from the wood-line, carrying two baskets on each end of a pole across his shoulders. I’d bet a month’s pay he had been shooting at us a few minutes before.

On the way back I learned from the lieut. that if you walk in the irrigation ditches in the rice field, it’s easier going. The water’s deeper by a foot, but the dirt underneath is nearly solid – not plowed up like the field itself. Once in a while you’re lucky and can walk a little way on a berm, high and dry.

There are many wells all over the area – dug, used, and abandoned, but still deep and full of water. Usually you can tell them because they are distinctly round and you can avoid them. A few are not so definite. I found one such well when I was jumping off a berm into the fields – right into a well. I never did touch bottom, but somehow managed to keep my head above water and climbed out. It felt good, actually – I was hot, but as the water evaporated I was cool the rest of the way back. That was really and unexpected surprise.

We came to an area with signs posted: “Tu dai”, meaning booby trap area. One boy missed stepping on a booby-trapped hand grenade by about two inches. The medic and I found an uncovered punji pit, about 2 feet cubed, with only two stakes in it.

We passed some old farm huts way out in the middle of nowhere. They had people living in them! VC, no doubt. As we came out of a hedgerow, we were faced with three angry water buffalo. When you see one of these things staring at you, stomping the ground and tossing its head, it looks more like a rhinoceros. They never charged but we were ready with our M-16s on full automatic, our machine guns and M-79s with canister rounds. We could have finished off a whole herd in about two seconds. Only bad part was we had them surrounded as we walked by; it they had moved, we would have shot each other as well as the elephants.

Tonight (and every night) we sleep – no guard. Tomorrow – who knows what? I feel pretty good about the whole thing really. I didn’t think I would. Part of it’s probably the fact we have nice quarters. Getting sniped at doesn’t bother me as much as I thought it would. In fact, I found myself one of the first going back into the woods after the guy – I don’t know what I was thinking of. The whole way these people operate and think – it’s great to see such confidence; it gives you confidence in yourself – that’s something I’ve never had before. Of course, there’s still the flutterbies,

but I think that’s only natural and healthy. When you stop seeing them and get too confident, that’s when you’re in the most trouble. I don’t know what I’ll feel the first time we get in a firefight. Hope the artillery has plenty or ammo.

I’m finally earning my money, Bob

PS. Copy those phrases I sent and send them back (keep the original cardboard for a souvenir). I forgot to copy them myself.


53 days, 25 July ’67  
Mot & Hai

H’lo

Today was real lazy. We were supposed to go out, so we sat around and waited, but nothing ever happened. I don’t know what to think about this whole situation yet, but I do know that these ARVNs are tough. They were way ahead of us yesterday, and weren’t as confused as we might have been. They work differently that US troops. When the sniper hit us, they dropped back, which is their usual procedure. We went in after him. They thought we were very brave for the; I think we were kinda stupid (although I did it anyway.)

They’ve brought in the news that we are going out tomorrow, at 8:00 – by chopper! There’s a village north of here where they’ve had reports of 7,000 pounds of weapons and ammo, and they have a list of about 8 VC they want captured or killed. Looks like I’ll see some stuff tomorrow.

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