Monday, December 5, 2011

Dec 1 - 9, 1967


 
182 days 1 Dec/67, Fri.

We went to bed early (9:30) and this morning, I feel a lot better. Some big reporter from the New York Times or Newsweek, I forget which, wanted to do a story on CRIP. He wanted to see us in the field, so they sent us out today. We acted like we were searching the area then we sat for nearly 4 hours, waiting. Finally the guy came along with 3 chopper loads of generals and colonels. They stayed about 5 minutes, talking to the Lieutenant, then flew away. We walked 8 clicks back to the road.

It’s all right, though. It’s interest like this from the high ranking people that keeps us together as CRIP, instead of becoming part of the battalion again.

There was a little excitement on the way in. we met up with the 49th Recon (ARVN) a group who often is on joint operations with us, as we came in to Duc Hanh “B”. Most of our guys were up on the road with the trucks, but a few of us along with the 49th were bringing up the rear, when a sniper opened up with some nasty old automatic weapon; zing zing zing!

Everybody hit the dirt, but after the first burst, I saw the bunkers outside of town only about 100 yards away. The first few rounds were quite high, and I couldn’t see saying out there in the open in case the next few rounds were lower. I must’ve run that hundred yard dash in 9.1, ‘cause after I took the second step, the fool began shooting again – still at tree tops level (if there had been any trees). I’ll take on Bob Hayes if some one’s shooting at me. Think what I could do in track shoes!!

After he fired for the second time, his muzzle flash was spotted (it was just at sunset) and everybody in CRIP and the 49th returned fire – all directly at the spot where the flash came form we went out to search the wood line and found one VC, looking like a chuck of Swiss cheese, and one B.A.R., also with a few bullet holes. The guy had guts, but what chance could he have against the equivalent of a company (100 men approx.)?

For a pacified area, there have been a lot of foreign objects whizzing at and past us in the last week or so.

Hope they finally decide to pay us tomorrow.

With love and empty pockets,
Bob
 
183 days, 2 Dec.67, Sat.

Guess what, You know what that means? I’m one-half of the way home, 183 days in country, 183 days yet to go. I’m going down the hill, counting down, I’m what they call a “short-timer”. I’m short!!! Today is a national holiday!

We celebrated the holiday by getting paid and having the rest of the day off. They ruined it by giving us shots – I got two – plague and cholera. My arms are so sore, I’m dictating this letter to a friend. [Not]

More good news. We’re not going to Trang Bang; in the near future, at least. I guess after the attack a couple of nights ago, they figured they needed us.

A wise decision, too. They test fired their two .57 cal. Machine guns, and two .30 cal., plus our 4 M-60s. these are the 8 principal weapons other than M-16s that are on the bunkers during an attack. Our M-60s were the only ones that fired. If they ever had a ground attack here, they’d be in bad shape without our guns!


182 days (left), 3 Dec/67, Sunday

We had another party this afternoon. This time the S-2 platoon all came over and had – probably for the first time – barbequed steaks and chicken our style. They loved it. They also loved our American beer. Ever see a bunch of drunken ARVNs try to play volleyball?

It’s been quite an afternoon. We’ve eaten since 2:00 and the fire is still hot enough to cook on, although I think everybody is fully stuffed. It doesn’t seem possible that you could spend an afternoon like this in Vietnam, but hen where else could you find ARVNs?

My parents tell me Jere has his new Cougar. Make me think, it’s been  a long time since I’ve heard anything about any of you. I haven’t even seen Marlynn’s picture in the paper lately. What about her and school? What about Jere? Working where? Living where? Has a Cougar, what about the ‘Beam? Still in school? Still 1-A? Dating anyone special? Still alive?

Have him write me himself. Please, someone, write and tell me what’s happening.

181 days, 4 Dec/67, Mon.

We’re here by an act of God. It had to be. The plan was to walk out to the same area we were in the morning we had contact (the 15th) and called gunships, etc. the 49th Recon went with us to the area at 4:00. we stayed till 6:30, when the 49th pulled out to make the VC think everyone left. We hid in the three different hedgerows in ambush for what the intel. report said would be “an unknown size enemy force” passing through the area at about 7:30.

We began spotting figures moving in the distance in groups of 3 and 4, some to the east, some west, and some south. It was getting dark, and it seemed as though they knew we were there, and trying to surround us (although they were nearly 2,500 meters or more from us and barely visible in the shadows).

We were seating a little, then they spotted 30 moving toward us from the north also, 2-3 clicks away. Shortly afterward, it seemed like instantly, it got dark. Then there were small groups of VC in three directions, and 30 moving toward us from the north and no Starlights.

We were to wait till 7:30 then if no contact we were to start back to the road, 2000 meters east. We sweat and worried and looked till 8:30.

They called in a few artillery flares which revealed nothing so we began to walk back. The 49th Recon was set up parallel to us as we walked back they had their positions (ready to support u sin case they were needed) in the hedge line to the south, for about 1000 meters along our route back. They knew we had to walk in front of them to get back.

Well, after about 300 meters, we received carbine fire from the south. Nobody hit, but all down in the water. Thinking it had to be the 49th getting trigger happy and being so used to these stupid ARVNs shooting at us before, we didn’t return fire.

There were only a few high rounds, and we got up and continued on. Again, this time after another 300 meters, and much closer overhead. Lying in the water we heard them zinging through the 3 foot high rice, we got fire from the south, but more to our rear than before. Probably the same position as before. Again the 49th , again no return fire by us. What can we do, they’re friendly (who needs enemies?)

The machine gunner and I were the last two men in our column with Sgt. Mahoe, the 3rd man. The second time we were fired upon, we had to lie flat on the ground behind a berm, only 3 inches high. With rounds coming so close, it had to be the lowest berm in VN. I had my rifle up to protect the top of my head and when we finally got up, I had mud caked on the inside of my glasses, I had been buried so low. Sgt. Mahoe told the machine gunner that if they fired again, he was to fire back.

It never happed and we made it to the road after some very fast walking, cursing the 49th ARVN Recon and their American advisor all the way. We got to the road and our trucks and speak of the devil, guess who else was there, and had been since 7:30? The 49th Recon!!!

Yes friends, they left at 7:30 as planned, figuring we would too. When they left at 6:30, they only moved to the positions nearby to fool VC. They wanted to know what all the shooting had been about out there!! There was only one explanation – it had been VC doing the shooting at our silhouettes in the dark and not the 49th!

Here’s the thriller later report came in all night and this morning (5 Dec). We hear that in that immediate area at the time we were walking back and the 49th was safe on the road, there had been an estimated 150 to 200 VC with weapons. Somehow we had slipped through nearly a battalion of Charlies!!

If we had returned fire and given ourselves away as “unfriendlies” and not just shadows (VC can’t see very well at night either, but they can tell when they hear M-16s fire at them that GIs are around). Everything would have broken loose and they surely would have walked all over us. If we hadn’t thought it was the 49th over there, mistaking our file for a VC movement in the dark . . .  I hate to think about it.

You can see what I say about being here by an act of God. There is no other explanation. We came so close. Amen, Bob


180 days, 5 Dec/67, Tues.

Spent the whole day in the swamps and got very wet and tired, but that’s all. We had a little excitement on each of our two LZs. Both were in some petty thick stuff, and so the door gunners and then new Cobra gunships really poured the dead into the woods. One stray round from somewhere – maybe even a VC sniper – caught an ARVN in the leg and we had to pause for the dust-off chopper.

The second LZ was the same story, only no one got hit this time. When we picked up the second time, they once again put out “security fire” as we went up. We spotted a large water bird over the river and pointed him out to the door gunner. The guy did some fancy aiming at 1000 feet, doing 60 knots, and picked the bird off in one short 10 round burst. Re-established my faith in chopper gunners.

The gunships – old Hueys and new Huey Cobras – were busy al afternoon in the area, doing LZ security for other units, and in the meantime destroying suspicious bunkers, etc. in the swamp. Quite a sight. The mini-guns put out so much fire, it looks like the ship’s on fire – a constant flame from the nose turret (Cobras) and side guns (Hueys). They would get up at above the target, about 1000 feet or more, and dive nearly straight down firing two rockets at a time, about 4 times, then follow up with about 5-10 second –mini-gun rounds. All this, moving at about 200 knots in the case of the Cobra – slower for the Hueys. Security is two Hues-Cobras. Happiness is knowing they’re on our side.

One rocket, by the way, would, on a direct hit, completely level a house our size. Eight or more would quite easily wipe out the entire Illinois Ave. neighborhood. Nasty thought, but it gives you some idea of the destructive power.

Did I tell you the mini-gun will completely cover a football field in 3 seconds, with the rounds only a foot apart?!


179 days, 6 Dec/67, Wed.

The day began with a planned 10 click walk through the swamp, during which we crossed 5 rivers or canals, two of which were over our heads. You know, it’s hard to swim with your weapon and ammo, and everything. the ’16 got several good baths. We had gone about 7 clicks when they called in a new mission in a different area.

The choppers dropped us in an area about 3 clicks from BT, at the edge of the swamp. It was supposed to be a split LZ, with one half landing at the edge of the swamp, and the other half (mine) on the dry side of the objective. As soon as we hit the ground, we were supposed to move toward the center, towards each other, and trapping any VC hidden in the hedges.

I’ll tell you what happened on the other LZ first. As soon as they touched down, they received fire and took cover. The gunships spotted 3 VC in a rice paddy, hidden in the tall rice and dropped a smoke grenade to mark the spot. The paddy was only about 30 meters square, so all the guys did was line up on one side and spray the rice with everything they had. When it was all over they searched through the field and found the 3 dead VC and 3 Chicom AK-47s. The VC were not just farmers with stolen guns, but hard-core Viet Cong. The AK-47s were brand new – beautiful weapons. Each had full filed gear, pistol belt, suspenders, six 40 round ammo clips, canteens, and first aid packs.

While all this was going on, on the other side, I was having an experience I’ll remember all my life. Somehow, our choppers got split up at our LZ, so in effect, we had a triple LZ, one without a ranking man higher than E-4, and no radio. It wasn’t, however, this group that had the problem.

The group I landed with had the lieutenant, his 2 RTOs, Sgt Howerter, Groton (the guy who loves boats) and me, plus about 8 ARVNs. We didn’t see the rest of the group till after the shooting was over. As soon as we landed, Howerter, Broton, Anh (ARVN) and I saw a man running from us, about 400 meters away, so we gave chase.

We lost sight of him, but kept searching. We came to a little road and at the end of it, the VC was running into a hedge line, about 100 meters away. We all opened fire and thought we had hit him – we saw him fall – he had no weapon at the time.

Howerter, Broton, and Anh ran down the road to check him out. I started to follow, but I was the only one who heard the Lt. yell from behind to wait for him. I stopped about 50 meters from the hedge line, but the others went all the way to where the road met the bamboo.

It happened suddenly; I saw smoke and a muzzle flash from the hedge line – a burst of automatic fire about 50 feet from Howerter. I saw Broton and Howerter had taken cover, and figured Anh was also safe. Within milliseconds, I put a 20-round magazine, one round at a time, at the cloud of smoke in the hedge line with tracers. I know that every round went to that exact spot, one at a time. If the VC had even been lying flat on the ground, I would have hit him. I thought for a moment I was him begin to rise, then fall, but I kept shooting to be sure.

As soon as my clip emptied, and I quit shooting, I stood there – helpless – and watched him jump from his hole wearing full field gear, and carrying an AK-47 (all hidden in the hole into which he had “fallen”, when we first fired at him. He was only 75 meters from me, as I saw him run around the corner of the hedgerow and disappear – what could I do?

 Out of the hole, three long, frightened steps, and he was gone. No time to reload; I felt like yelling for him to stop. My hand instinctively went for a grenade, but there was no time and too great a distance. I have never felt so helpless in my life. Everyone else was too far behind to fire, without endangering Howerter and me. Howerter could have shot, but it all happened too fast.

It wasn’t until now that I heard Broton screaming for a medic. He couldn’t have fired back; his right arm had been broken by a bullet and was spurting a steady stream of blood, six inches into the air. He was also hit in the stomach. It nearly made me sick. Anh was lying on his back in the rice paddy, with about 5 rounds in his lower abdomen, groin and thigh. Howerter was not hit. All I could see was that VC getting away while I sat there doing nothing. There was no way I could have kept them from getting hit, but at least I could have shot the one who did it.

The St. had arrived along with the RTOs and the rest of the ARVNs. I had my first aid pack on Broton’s arm wound. He was losing a lot of blood. It was a hard decision to make, which man to help first, but Broton was American and I honestly thought Anh was dead. The RTO took over on Broton, and the ARVNs did what they could for Anh. Both medics had been assigned to the LZ by the swamp!!. The rest of us went out in futile search of the vanished VC. The dust-off came in just as the rest of our group was finding their way to our location.

We made a quick search of the area and found nothing more and started back to BT. Broton was all right, but Anh was dead when they put him on the chopper. Somehow I keep blaming myself for letting the VC get away, but actually I guess it wasn’t my fault. I did the only natural thing to do; put as much lead his way as I could to keep him down, if nothing else, so he couldn’t shoot anything else.

In this I did a good job. The hole he had been in was pretty well chewed up around the edges, and all the leaves and twigs were shot off the bamboo. If he’d stuck a finger up, I would have shot it off.

When I quit firing, he got up and ran, instead of firing again at me, or anybody. He definitely was scared. I don’t believe he knew I was out of ammo in that magazine. His only thought was to get out before I fired again.

I will always feel that if I had kept my cool a little more, and either fired slower, giving the others time to catch up – or, better yet, fired about 15 rounds then paused! When I would have paused, he would have run then; the only difference being I would have had five rounds left. At 75 meters and five tracers, I know I couldn’t have missed.

No one has ever said anything to me about him getting away, but I know I could  have gotten him.

I don’t know what happened to our LZ. If we’d had full strength, it might not have happened. Why there were two medics at the LZ and none at ours . . .? (Doc Brooks is breaking in his replacement).

I’ve my own opinions about Lt. Straub. I think he proved some of them today. Judge for yourself – I think he really botched up a good plan by giving unclear instructions and not distributing the men properly. The other LZ had 3 M-60s, while we only had one. The squads were split up, leaving some people without squad leaders. Howerter, or squad leader, Broton, and I were the only scouts at our LZ. The rest were on the other with no leader or radio. On one of the men, including squad leaders, even knew of the planned two LZs – only  Straub and Sgt. Mahoe knew.

Broton is one of the better guys in the platoon, and a real good friend; it’s like a nightmare, seeing him hit. The way he was bleeding, I thought he would bleed to death. Anh, likewise, had become a good friend, not only with me, but everyone in the platoon. He was one of the best and most dedicated of the S-2. They followed him almost more than their Trung Wi. He’d been around a long time, and knew his business – he was a great guide to the ways of the VC.

Not only was he a good soldier, but he was also a very friendly, likeable type of guy. He spoke just enough English words to be understood. He and I were pretty close friends. I have been to his house twice, visiting with him, his wife, and 3 kids. Lovely family, now without husband/father. Tragic.

It’s a great sadness, I found, when you lose a close friend; especially in such a way as this. Broton’s wound was hard to take, but when they said Anh died, I felt like crying. Needless to say, I felt 10 times as bad about letting the killer get sway after I heard.

The whole experience will stick with me as long as I live. I wish I could forget the whole thing, but I know I never will entirely. I can see the VC running, and Broton and Anh lying there, just as plain as when it happened.

It hardly seems fair that such a fine person as Anh should have to die (what about his family?) and the Viet Cong got away clean. I guess that must be what they call “God’s will”. In mourning, Bob


178 days, 7 Dec/67, Thurs.

We’ve had the day off today. I imagine due to what happened yesterday. One of the officers in the signal platoon here saw me in the mess hall this afternoon, and said, “Had a pretty good day yesterday, I hear.” I was shocked for a minute, but then I realized that although we had a man wounded and lost a man, we did kill three Viet Cong hard-cores, and captured all their gear, including 3 AK-47s. I guess it was in truth a good day, but it was just overshadowed by our own losses.

Broton has a broken right forearm, and was hit in the gall bladder. He has two souvenir bullets and about 2 months rest. There’s a chance that the whole platoon might got o Anh’s funeral in Saigon tomorrow. It’ll be a military funeral.

The atmosphere was a little happier today; I feel a little better. Mostly, I guess, knowing Broton will be all right, and also the shock of the thing has worn off some. We’ve been getting shot at too much, and the leadership has been much poorer than ever before. The only competent leader we have now is Sgt. Mahoe, but he can’t do everything. the Lt. isn’t quite all put together.

We have three squad leaders, infantry’s is an E-6, but scared of his shadow. The 106’s is an E-5, recently promoted form Spec 4. He knows his business, but has let E-5 go to his head. Jones is one of the original Recon. Howerter, also an E-5 with swelled head problems, is the “scout master”. He’s immature and has the mentality of a 3 year old (a general problem with all except St. and Mahoe). The Lt. is intelligent but defiantly not too sure of what’s happening with his platoon.

Add to this, we have about 15 or so people with only 60 days or less in country, who have never been told what to do and how to do it. Cito used to give us regular classes on procedure and tactics. We always had a critique after every mission in which we had contact or made mistakes in any way. Straub has never done this.

All this, plus the fact that the VC activity gets heavier during the dry season, adds to the fact that we’ve been getting shot at too much and doing nothing about it. In two days we’ve had 2 wounded and one killed. That doesn’t sound like the CRIP I used to know. Nothing is as frustrating as being shot at and not getting the guy who did the shooting, especially if he hits one of your guys – how well I know.

I figure I’ll stay on till after my R&R. then I’ll try to get into the combat artist’s program in Cu Chi, if I can get in. I’ll spend my last 3 months drawing pictures.


177 days, 8 Dec/67, Fri.

Day off again. I got my R&R application in and accepted, now all I need is orders and passport. It’ll come February 25th, give or take a day or two. I also got a chance to see Broton in the hospital. He looks bad, but I guess he’s all right. His arm is in a cast and still bleeding at times. He has a big patch on his side and a 12 inch incision down the middle of his stomach where they cut it to get at the bullet. The whole affair is held together with about 30 stitches.

There is a tube entering his nose, going to his lungs to clear out some bad congestion (I don’t know what caused that). He has another tube into his arm for plasma and another for his meals. Despite all this, he’s in great spirits and didn’t seem to be in much pain. He’s still a little pale. The doctor told us that he got up and walked a little this morning.

The hospital was full of GIs and Vietnamese – military and civilian – and I’d say Broton was in better shape than any of them. It was a gruesome sight, seeing so many people all shot up, or blown up. Some were nothing but a pair of eyes and red-stained bandages. They all seemed to be conscious and not really suffering too much, but I’m sure they had been at one time.

It made me wonder if it was all worth it – the war and everything. I began to see visions of me in those beds, so I excused myself and left. I want to see Broton again, but I’ll wait till he’s moved to a “healthier” ward.


176 days, 9 Dec/67, Sat.

Froze this morning when I got up – must’ve been 65 degrees and I had to roll down my sleeves to go to breakfast! I’m glad I don’t go home in December in a way. I’d freeze after 6 months of summer. Had a third day off, which enabled me to watch the Thanksgiving Day game between Oklahoma and Nebraska. I didn’t stay for the whole game, but I think O.U. won (Dad’s last letter was in black ink).

This month’s promotion lists came down today. Three guys made Spec. 4, one had been here since August, the other two since September. All three made PFC as soon as they got here, and are now Spec. 4. I got here in June and made PFC the same time; I’m still PFC – I think someone forgot about me. Maybe next month, Bob

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