Vietnam 68-69

We were stationed at a mountain firebase.  One day we were trying to cut something with a razor blade.  Raines had the razor blade and I asked him to give it to me as I reached for it.  Raines jerked his hand back and cut my thumb open on the inside edge, from below the second joint, up and across to the side of  the thumbnail.  It started bleeding like crazy, but I don’t remember it hurting too bad.  I told the guys I needed to go see the medic.  Raines didn’t want me to go.  I think  he didn’t want to get in trouble.  He said he could sew my thumb up and went to get a sewing kit.  Well, I let Raines sew my thumb up with a needle and thread from the sewing kit.  It took a while, but it healed up quite well.  You can still see the scar to this day though.

View of Song Bo river where we ambushed vietcong crossing the river in a sampan.

Our platoon was on patrol along the Song Bo river in the mountains somewhere near the lowlands.  The river was fairly wide and deep, and the water was quite clear.   We waited under cover up stream until after dark and then moved into an ambush position along the right bank of the river.  It was so dark you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face.  As we moved along the edge of the water the river made a left turn and then went straight along the base of a large hill.  We silently spread out and positioned ourselves on that hillside overlooking the water.  I thought about how exposed we were sitting on that hillside with no cover.  As we sat there straining to see in the darkness, there was just enough light to make out any movement on the river.   We were all quiet as the night as waited for any enemy movement.

  At about three in morning someone spotted a sampan coming across the river.  As the sampan reached our side of the shore one of the men started getting out of the small boat.  But he must of heard us passing the word that there was  a boat with men in it.  He shoved the boat from the shore and jumped back in.  As the men hastily paddle the boat back across the river the current moved them directly in front of our ambush.  Someone gave the order to open fire.  Suddenly the still of the night was shattered by a barrage of small arms fire.  We opened up with M-16′s, M-60′s and M-79′s.  Tracers were streaking into the water and ricocheting through the air.  I was firing my M-79 as fast as I could load it.   My rounds exploded as the hit the water and sent big columns of water in the air.  I heard splashing on the far bank and concentrated my shots in that area.  Jeff Crabtree felt something hot hit him, he thought he had been hit and fell backwards, firing his M-79 as he did.  It wasn’t long before we were given the order to cease fire.  It was then that Jeff realized he had been hit by hot brass from the guy’s M-16 to the right of  him.  We listened for movement but didn’t hear anything.  The sampan had disappeared below the surface of the water.

  I figured it was all over and was beginning to relax when the silence was broken by something other worldly coming towards us from behind and to the side of the hill that we were on.   High over our right side an ungodly howl moved through the night sky.  The sound was unlike anything I had heard before.   The howl was loud and sound like a small car flying at high speed through night sky.  The round was soon followed by more howling projectiles and they started hitting the ground on the far side of the river.  There were brilliant flashes of light and concussions of sound and shock waves, followed by the sound of huge pieces of shrapnel splashing in the river.   I was hoping that none of the shrapnel hit us.  I later learned that the rounds were fired from a battleship’s 18″ guns.

The next morning one of the guys in our platoon volunteered to dive down in the river to see what he could find.  (Story continued in Part 2)

Leech Island, 1st Platoon, on patrol by ourselves, as usual.  Now Leech Island is a good name for the place we were.  It was double canopy jungle, deep, dark and damp, but not an island.  We were on a well worn trail that wove it’s way through the jungle.  The jungle growth along the trail contained wait-a-minute vines, and oh yeah leeches.  The hazy light filtered through the mist and trees.  My squad (3rd) was on point this particular morning and I was about fourth in our echelon.  We came to a semi open area and the trail made a sharp turn to the right.  As we turned the corner the point man saw an NVA on the trail ahead of us.  He immediately raised his M-16 and fired as the man turned and fled.  The bullet hit a low hanging tree branch between the two men and them kept running.  All our point man heard when he pulled the trigger again was a click, his M-16 had jammed.  I saw a flash of a dark figure as he disappeared into the jungle.  I couldn’t get a clear shot and didn’t want to hit any nearby branches with an HE round, like the M-16 bullet had.  There could have been worse consequences if that happened.  We examined the bullet whole in the tree after we made sure that any NVA had left the area.  The branch was large enough that the bullet didn’t go all the way through.  I thought about how lucky that NVA soldier was and wondered if he had more luck to make it through the war in one piece.

This is the letter that I wrote home to my Mom and Dad the first part of January, 1969.  It contains what I wrote to them about the day Lieutenant Dugger died.  This will be the first letter that I’ve published on this blog.  Let me tell you that it has been a struggle deciding to publish the letters I wrote.  I have decided that the letters will make this blog that much richer.

Letter home 1-10-69, page 1

Letter home 1-10-69, page 2

Letter home 1-10-69, page 3

Letter home 1-10-69, page 4

Letter home 1-10-69, page 5

Letter home 1-10-69, page 6

Envolope that contained the letter home 1-10-69. I wrote about Lt Dugger being killed in the letter

At the end of December, 1968, we were on a company size operation in the mountains somewhere west of Hue.  Delta company was also on an operation  in the mountains and made some contact with the enemy.  Battalion headquarters pulled Delta company out.  Our company was resupplied in the field and choppered to a new location, probably close to where Delta company had made contact.  On Dec 31st, we were humping towards our next night defensive position (NDP).  The weather was nice that morning and into the afternoon, with sunny skies, but the tempature wasn’t too hot for humping.  I thought what a beautiful day it was and I liked the trail we were on.  There were large trees all around, and the thick jungle growth was broken up by large open areas.  I remember the trail started to make a sweeping turn to the left and we were given the sign to stop.  Our platoon leaders, Lieutenant Dugger and Sergeant Perez needed to check the map to figure out which way we should go.  Appearently there were other trails ahead and they needed to decide which trail would get us to our NDP.  I recall that the area where we stopped was quite open, with some big trees here and there.   We were standing in the trail, waiting for the order to move out, when automatic weapon fire rang out.  We immediately hit the ground and I scrambled behind a big tree that was just off the trail to my right.  There was only the initial burst of fire and then silence, only a short echo of the gun fire through the trees.  Soon, word came back through our platoon that Lieutenant Dugger had been hit, a single bullet to the heart had killed him almost instantly, even before the medic could get to him.  When I heard that he had been killed, I was in disbelief, which was soon replaced by rage.  I wanted to kill the bastards that had killed our platoon leader.  Lieutenant Dugger was only days from going home to his wife and family, and this was to be his last patrol.  He had talked lovingly of his wife and he was looking forward to seeing her and his family once again.  It wasn’t right that he wouldn’t be going home to see his wife and family again.

Sgt Perez gave us orders to advance towards the location that the enemy fire had come from.  Jack was on my right and Raines was on my left, thier weapons in firing position, as our squad moved up a slight incline covered with grass and brush towards a denser growth of dark jungle.  I thought that the enemy could still be in there waiting for us, but I didn’t care, I had my M-79 loaded and at the ready.  We advanced side by side and made a sweep of the area but didn’t make contact with the enemy.  We found foot prints that indicated that there were about five NVA.  

A medevac had been ordered and was on it’s way.  Our platoon moved  to secure a nearby clearing large enough for the helicopter to land.  It wasn’t long before we heard the thumping of the Huey’s rotor blades in the distance.   A yellow smoke was popped on the LZ to help the pilot find the clearing we had secured.   The Huey soon broke over the trees and dropped into the clearing and touched down.  Members of our platoon picked up Lt Dugger’s poncho wrapped body and carried it to the waiting helicopter.  Yellow smoke swirled through the blades of the helicopter as it waited forLieutenant Dugger’s body to be loaded onboard.  As soon as the men had placed his body in the Huey and cleared the LZ the pilot applied more throttle to the engine and pitch to the rotors, the helicopter lifted off and slowly rose straight up from the clearing, turned and tilted towards the east and soon disappeared over the trees.  Lieutenant Dugger was going home.

 A beautiful day to die…