Vietnam 68-69

Huey taking off from fire base with troops, headed to an LZ in the jungle.

As my squad readied weapons and gear we were given final instructions by our squad leader, Sgt Dunn.  He told us that our squad would be one of the first ones to be dropped at the LZ, which the buzz was about it being “HOT”.  Sgt Dunn checked and made sure we had enough ammo, and that every man had ammo for Raines’ M-60.   He told us that we were to have our weapons at the ready and be prepared to return fire as the helicopters descended onto the LZ.  We were instructed to dismount from the helicopter quickly and move into position at the edge of the LZ to the right of any men already on the ground.  He stressed how important it was to return fire and secure the LZ as quickly as possible.  We knew we had to stay low to the ground and move to cover on perimeter of the LZ.

It wasn’t too long after we had been given our final instructions before we heard the rythmic thumping of the approaching Huey’s.  Everybody saddled up and checked their weapons one last time to make sure they were ready to “rock and roll”.  As each chopper touched down we loaded up and were airborne.  The helicopters trailed one after the other towards the LZ.  We sat in silent contemplation, myself thinking about what lay ahead for us.  The thought crossed my mind that our helicopter could get shoot down before we had a chance to unload, or maybe we would get shot up while we were still on board, or pinned down on the ground by hostile fire.  I wonder about who might get hit and hoped that one of them wasn’t me.  I looked around at my  friends as we rode high above the jungle, the cool wind buffeting us.  I could tell the were ready to go with their weapons at the ready and I some how felt better.

As we approached the LZ we were given the command to lock and load.  We readied our weapons and prepared to hit the ground running.  Our helicopter was one of the first to drop into the LZ.  I could see the ground rushing up toward us as our Huey made a quick descent into the clearing.  The clearing was big enough for a number of helicopters to drop their troops at once.  As the chopper ahead of us picked his spot to drop in our pilot picked a spot to the right rear of it.  I could see that the LZ was overgrown with brush and the wash of the helicopters blades was blowing it out and down in a circle.  I expcepted our helicopter to touch down, but the pilot stopped his descent about ten feet from the ground.  I looked down at the swirling brush and thought to myself, “There is no way I’m going to jump that far, the pilot needs to get closer to the ground.”  The I heard the door gunner yelling for us to hurry up and jump, that they wanted to get the hell out of there.  I hesitated another second or so and then with my feet on the skid I jumped to the ground.  I knew that with all the weight on my back the I needed to drop and roll.  I hit the ground and rolled over onto the right side of my pack.  Amazingly I didn’t break anything.  The rest of my squad was soon on the ground and moving to the perimeter of the clearing.

There wasn’t any enemy fire and all the helicopters made it in and out without incident.  Once we knew the area was clear we moved out toward our objective somewhere in the jungle.  Needless to say we were on high alert, wondering where the enemy could be and why they didn’t show at the LZ.

Maybe next time we won’t be so lucky.

I believe, Trautmann, Dunn, Schmitz, Crabtree, Crutts, Raines, Winder and Brown were all a part of this story.

View of Song BO River, where we ambushed vietcong in a sampan.

After striping down to his fatigue bottoms he dove into the river and swam out to where we last saw the sampan.  When reached the middle of the river he dove down and it wasn’t long before he located the sampan.  After a few more dives he came up with an AK-47.   He swam it to shore and then returned to dive a few more times, but didn’t find anything else to retrieve.

Our platoon leader wanted us to do some sweeps of the area on the other side of the river, so he requested helicopters be sent out to ferry us across the river.   We patrolled down the side of the river to see if there was anything before the helicopters arrived, then moved to an area where the helicopters could land to pick us up.  The Huey’s arrived and picked us up for the short hop across the river.  The AK-47 we recovered was given to one of the door gunners to be returned to Camp Evans.

Once everybody was on the ground we did a sweep of the area along the river.  We didn’t find any dead VC or anything to indicate that anybody made it out of the river.  While checking the shoreline, I found a piece of shrapnel from the big gun’s rounds.  The piece was about eight inches long and as sharp as a knife.  I showed it to all the guys and at some point trough it aside.  We were glad that none of us got hit by any of the shrapnel.

Our platoon broke into squads to RIF the entire area.  We spent a good part of the day looking for signs of the enemy, but found nothing.  Late in the day we picked out an area near the river the setup another night ambush.   The area was flat so there was room to set up a good ambush NDP.  Watch detail was assigned, those not on watch went to sleep.  I was one that didn’t have to pull guard until after midnight, so I went to sleep shortly after nightfall.  I’m not sure what time it was, but those who were sleeping were awaken by those on guard.  One of the men said they had seen two or three VC approaching our NDP, appearently they heard something from our position, turned and disappeared into the dark.   We went on high alert, not knowing if they would return and attack our position.  The remainder of the night was quiet.

The next morning we patrolled the hills above the river, looking for the enemy or their caches.  We didn’t find anything.  We heard that there was another platoon downstream from our ambush site.  We were told that they found atleast one VC body along the river.

When we returned to Camp Evans, there was an article about our night ambush in the Stars Stripes newspaper, it said the enemy body count was close to 400.  We couldn’t believe what we were reading, we thought maybe we killed 4 VC, not 400.

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)

I heard about a new soldier that shot himself in the leg shortly after being assigned to our platoon.  He was one of two guys that joined out 1st platoon.  The guy that shot himself had not even been out on patrol yet.  We didn’t know for sure if it was an accident out not, but we figured that he probably shot himself on purpose.  We figured that he had because we were all trained on how to handle weapons safely.  Recently, while talking on the phone with Alvin Dunn, our squad leader in Vietnam, he told me that he was in the barracks when the guy shot him self in the foot.  He said the guy intentionally pointed his M-16 at his foot and pulled the trigger.  Alvin said he couldn’t believe what he saw.   I don’t know if the guy faced a court martial or not.   A self inflicted wound was and still is considered a serious ofense.  I need to ask Alvin if he knows what happened to the guy the next time I talk to him.  I wonder if the guy is still alive today.  I know now that he wasn’t cut out to be a Rakkasan in the 101st Airborne.

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.