(Nothing for the 10th)
174 days, 11 Dec/67, Mon.
I started feeling sick last night, so this morning I missed my first
mission since we started in July, and went to Cu Chi. They were only out two
hours, but they got one VC. I got a bottle of pills and a blood test. No worms,
just a stomach upset. I guess I deserve a rest. I’ve been on every CRIP mission
since July. I did miss two others, but they were affairs where only one squad
went out.
Let’s see . . . I guess that’s it for
today. It seems that the longer I’m here, the more routine things get to be. It
seems the letters are getting shorter and shorter (like yesterday’s). Somehow
most things that happen don’t seem worth mentioning.
Try writing something about everyday of your life. It would be hard to make
it interesting after a while. In short, I’m trying to say that I don’t believe
my letters have the interest they used to, and I certainly am finding it more
difficult to come up with anything clever. I don’t really know why, other than
the reason I just mentioned.
173 days, 12 Dec/67, Tues.
I literally slept all day today. Slept through breakfast, woke up at 8:00,
and went to sleep at 9:00. Slept till 12:30 (lunch – someone woke me up). Back
to bed at 1:0 till 4:00. Usually it’s too hot to do that, but today it was
“cool” (80).
The Christmas decorations are going up. There’s an artificial tree in the
club and mess hall, and every MACV hutch. Even the tent has a tree. Out hutch
has only a small musical tree my parents sent. One guy has a stocking hanging
from his bed. They have lights around the roof of the little guardhouse on the
main street wall. Merry Christmas. They’re playing Christmas songs on the
radio. I wish it would snow.
172 days, 13 Dec/67, Wed (night of the 12th)
Last night (12th) an ambush patrol of the 1/27 Infantry made
contact with an unknown size force of North Vietnamese Regulars – the king
they’re fighting on the DMZ – steel pots, green uniforms, and all. They – the
1/27th – were forced to retreat but not before they killed 54 of the
NVAs. Like a bad habit, they sent us out on an intel report, on mortar
positions near BaoTrai. There we were again, after a battalion, possibly, we
had no way of knowing.
All went well. We searched our three objectives – all within sight of the
lights of Bao Trai. We were set up in a temporary position, while the Lt.
called in his report, when – and I hate to sound this dramatic – all Hell broke
loose.
Mortar rounds and light weapons fire began to hit Bao Trai. We could see
the muzzle flashes of the mortars way off in the distance and every now and
they a rocket would streak across the sky toward B.T. I have never seen such a
heavy volume of fire come – or go into – B.T. from where we were it seemed the
town was being overrun. The fire grew more intense, and soon we were pinned
down by friendly or VC (who knows?) fire. My guess would be stray rounds from
B.T. 3000 meters away. We even received some mortar or artillery fire
dangerously close.
Those had to be the longest 20 minutes in my life – it seemed like hours.
When the firing ceased, we moved quickly to a small village, and set up an
ambush on the read for any VC possible retreating from the action, trying to
find safety in the swamps.
An ARVN outpost not too far away began firing almost as heavy as B.T. after
we had been set up only a few minutes. Every 5 minutes or so they would open up
with everything they had: 50s, carbines, B.A.R., the works. And all in the
direction of the swamps. A few rounds, however, came whizzing by us, so we had
to move to a different location, which turned out to be the main road about 2
clicks away. During the move we were forced down several times by fire from the
compound. They weren’t shooting at us specifically. We were too far away to be
seen. They were simply firing for security and we happened to be in the way.
At 4:30 we made it to the road and on into Bao Trai, after the longest
night I’ve spent in VN so far. Shaking, Bob
172 days, 13 Dec/67, Wed.
After getting to bed at about 5:00 this morning, we got up at 7:30 for
another mission (another bad habit of theirs). The mission was simple enough
and on our second LZ the gunships spotted a VC bunker hidden just on the edge
of the swamps. They pulverized it pretty thoroughly, and then we moved in with
the gunships hovering about 10 feet overhead. It was pretty heavy brush.
In the bunker, we found a dud 105 mm artillery round, five 82mm mortar
rounds, 2 grenades, and 2 Chicom carbines – no VC. So now I sit, after an
afternoon of rest – a small outpost has been mortared tonight, and everybody
here is extra cautions after last night.
I said once before that no one really knows fear until he’s been on a night
patrol in Vietnam.
Last night just made me believe that more. There we were, for all we knew a
battalion-size force was hitting Bao Trai harder than ever, and we were out in
the middle of it all. The ARVN outpost was firing later – it seemed we had
bullets flying around us all night. A few more night like last night and I’ll
be a nervous wreck.
Even now when I sleep at night, they can fire the artillery and I’ll sleep
through it. But let one round fall on an outpost anywhere within hearing range,
and I wake up, sitting straight up in bed, heart going double-time. A couple of
times I’ve awakened to distant small arms fire. I guess it’s good to have quick
reactions, but it’s a terrible feeling.
Someone walked out of the hutch this afternoon, clapping his hands to the
radio. The first “clap” sounded just like a carbine being fired at me, and I
instinctively crouched. I jump at nearly every loud noise. When I get home,
I’ll be walking down the street and hear a car backfire and drop to the prone
on the sidewalk – everybody’ll think I’m nuts!
It’s gotten to the point where just by the sound of the weapon – any weapon
– I can tell whether it’s aimed in my direction or not. I don’t need to wait to
see a tracer or hear the round whiz by – can’t afford to wait, must kiss Mother
Earth after six months, I can tell the difference between an M-16 or B.A.R. (or
M-16 and AK-47 on auto). In 6 more months, I’ll be a bundle of nerves.
I guess I should say a little about the damage to Bao Trai. Several mortar
rounds hit just outside the bunker line, and several others in the buildings
surrounding the compound. Four rounds hit in the field sued for the chopper pad
– no real damage. One hit in the courtyard just about 10 feet from the patio.
This is the one that caused all the damage, although very slight.
All those bushes with the pretty red flowers are broken and without a large
portion of their color. The chairs in the patio have several small holes in the
plastic, as well as a few of the ashtrays made from artillery casings, which
had holes clear through them. Every building except our green hutch which was
protected by a line of jeeps (three of which had flat tires from shrapnel) is
peppered with shrapnel holes.
The brick/masonite buildings only have chips out of them, but the two
wooden buildings had metal go clear through the walls. In one hutch the man in
the top bunk was startled awake by the impact (only 10 feet away) and found his
mosquito net ripped ;by shrapnel and a few pieces lying on his pillow. None hit
him! Polk and I picked 15 pieces out of the trees this afternoon. All this from
one round, which left a hole 2 feet across and a foot deep – like a cone.
If we’d been in BT at the time, I might have been on my way across the
patio to my position on the main street wall when the mortar hit. There was no
safe place in the whole province last night.
Two of the guards on the bunkers received minor cuts from the shrapnel,
which hit out there and the mess Sgt. was hit on the hand, but not seriously.
The town itself all total received nearly 50 rounds of mortar and rocket fire.
Two ARVNs were wounded and one was killed (not S-2).
In the attack on Duc Tap tonight (see last letter) a US captain
giving a going away part for himself (would have left tomorrow) was hit, but
not killed.
Now I guess I’ll get some needed sleep after I shower and shave. I have a 2
½ day growth. It did keep the mosquitoes away last night. Sort of a punji pit
for mosquitoes.
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