MY TOUR OF DUTY
by
Jerry “AUGIE” Augustine
The Well
It
was during my first few weeks of my one year tour. One particular
night I will never forget. We left base camp and proceeded by compass
to a predetermined ambush site. It was to be about a half mile from
base camp. In most cases we would stay off trails and roads. It was a
little past dusk and Sgt. Figueroa was leading this patrol. We all
looked up to him as he was experienced and did everything right to
protect our asses and always had the thought in his mind to bring us
back alive. We trusted him. It was dark that night and I remember
Sgt. Fig stating that we should travel through the back yards of the
“hootches,” ( Vietnamese living quarters), in order to stay off
of the well used routes. We did not want to fall into an enemies
ambush. It was hot and humid as usual so wiping sweat and slapping
mosquitoes was the norm . We would hear a cluck or two from the
dodging chickens and an occasional groan from a water buffalo. The
thick grass was nearly a half foot high and the palms and shrubbery
native to the area was scattered thinly throughout the yards. To the
rear of the yards laid thicker shrubbery as it was up against the
edge of a wood line. No signs of a resident anywhere as there was a
strict curfew in affect so no one was to be out and about after dark.
I guarantee that they knew we were there. After about twenty minutes
of navigating through the difficult terrain of the back yards, the
earth came out from under me. I fell right down into a back yard
well. I threw my rifle to the side to protect it and I began flailing
my arms.
Luckily
Sgt. Fig was close to me and he reached down with his rifle butt to
pull me up. I was under water and reached up to feel the rifle stock.
As he pulled me up he grabbed the harness to my web gear and was
able to extricate me. After the shock wore off and some muffled
laughter we were on our way to set up. Needless to say I was very
uncomfortable all night being soaking wet and full of bugs and such.
I performed my duty “well” and stayed awake all night and the
best occurrence all night, no VC crossed our path.
Becoming a Soldier
I
was nineteen years old at the time in the summer of 1965. Really not
knowing where my life was going , I received my draft notice and was
a little overwhelmed. I was a student at the University of
Connecticut, Hartford branch.The classrooms were so overcrowded,
there was standing room only. This was due to the Vietnam conflict
going on. I didn`t question the notice, I thought it was my duty.
On
Oct.5, 1965 I boarded a bus at the Middletown, CT post office and was
on my way to New Haven, CT, then on to Fort Dix NJ for my
indoctrination into the U.S. Army. Where I was headed to next was
anyones guess. At Fort Dix our heads were shaved, medical and
intelligence tests were performed. After two weeks some of us were
bussed to Fort Devens, MA just outside of Lowell, to begin basic
training with the newly formed 196th
Light Infantry Brigade.
The
196th
was to be a unit deployed to Vietnam after completing basic training,
advanced infantry training, and advanced unit training. We did not
know where we were headed all through our training regime. After
completing basic training the entire 196th
headed to Camp Drum, NY in April of 1966 for A.I.T. or advanced
infantry training. After completing A.I.T. The entire 196th
with its support groups headed to Camp Edwards Air Force Base at Cape
Cod for advanced unit training in May and June of `66.
While
back at Fort Devens after all the training our complete brigade was
called to formation one evening. The announcement was made that we
were to be deployed to Vietnam. A solemness came over everyone. A
couple of mornings later word got around that a soldier had hung
himself in one of the abandoned barracks.
Within
the next few days it was announced that there would be a company
sized guard duty formation. A company consisted of four platoons
labeled 1st through 4th. Each platoon had four
squads of about a dozen men each. On this day there were over two
hundred men to be inspected. A challenge was made that if a soldier
earned the position of colonels orderly, he would fly to Vietnam with
the advanced party, a three day trip. The brigade would sail to
Vietnam from Boston, Ma, on through the Panama canal, then to
California and onto Vietnam. Two ships were to be used, one of them
the Alexander Patch. It was to be a thirty plus days voyage. No one
wanted to sail on either of these two scows. They would travel
through the Caribbean, the Panama Canal, and up the west coast of
South America. The heat and humidity would become unbearable. With
the hundreds of troops on board and in close quarters, any illnesses
could be passed on to one another quite easily.
I
became determined to win the position of colonels orderly so I
studied and worked on my gear profusely. I did not want to spend a
month on a troop ship laden with horror stories of heat and sea
sicknesses.
It
is quite comical now to think back to what I did to achieve colonels
orderly. Every chance I got I would study the general orders, chain
of command, and the weapons manuals as well as general soldiering.
You never knew what questions would be asked of you so you had to
memorize everything. Your weapon and appearance had to be spotless.
I
studied on and on and when it came to my appearance I put my heart
and sole in getting ready. I actually had a patent leather coating I
smeared on my boots after I polished and “spit shined” them for
it seamed like hours. I bought a can of Niagara spray starch for my
uniform. I used up the entire can on my uniform and leaned my pants
up against the wall. They actually stood up by themselves. To blouse
the pants legs I used two #10 fruit cans with the top and bottom
removed to put into the base of my pants legs. They formed a perfect
circle around the top of my boots for a finishing touch. All the
effort sure worked.
Low
and behold I was fortunate to win the title and was awarded the
flight over with the advanced party. I also received two Letters of
Commendation. One was from the Battalion commander and the other was
from the Brigade commander. Also as a bonus was the fact that I would
receive three day passes in succession for the twenty eight day
waiting period we had before our flight.
On
one of my three day passes when I got to go home I found out some
heart breaking news. My mother had been admitted to the Connecticut
Valley Hospital with a nervous breakdown. I had a tough time easing
her mind when I visited her there. I also had a very trying time
accepting this for I knew it was because of my upcoming deployment. I
was devastated.
We
flew from Camp Edwards Air Force Base to Juneau, Alaska the first
day. After a wonderful breakfast and a view of the snow capped
mountains we were on our way to Yakota, Japan the second day for
refueling. Then on to Tan Son Nhut air base arriving at night. It was
located on the outskirts of Saigon the south Vietnam capitol. It was
August 4, 1966, 6 days after my 21st
birthday. I will never forget the heat as I disembarked from the
plane, and it was in the later part of the evening.
We
stayed in a warehouse type barracks set up with double bunks awaiting
the flight in the morning to my assigned post.
I
was instructed to board a Chinook helicopter and after a 60 mile
flight north west I was dropped off on a muddy air strip in Tay Ninh
Province. There was nothing there but a wet muddy strip in an open
field with a tree line circumventing it. Also in the distance was a
high mountain that looked out of place in this flat land. It was
called Nui Ba Den, or “Black Virgin Mountain.” It was named after
a dark young Cambodian girl who wandered up the mountain and was
attacked and killed by a tiger as the story has been passed down over
the years.
It
was monsoon season. Every day at approximately 4 p.m. you could look
up in the sky and watch the very dark clouds move toward your area
and open up with torrential downpours. I was given a pup tent and was
instructed to set up on the edge of the airstrip and where to walk to
get my chow three times a day. I was also told that my unit wouldn`t
be arriving for about three more days.
While
I was waiting for my buddies to arrive the downpours were so fierce
that I had a stream flowing under my cot. Helicopters, some
gunships, C-130`s, and the larger Chinook copters were constantly
landing and taking off day and night. The first day that I arrived
there I looked up at a Huey copter and notice a dangling body hanging
from a rope of some sort. I asked the closest soldier near me what
was going on. He responded that the person hanging from the
helicopter was a south Vietnamese soldier, an interpreter and
suspected “spy”, that he would be dropped if he didn`t “talk”.
Needless to say it frightened the hell out of me and I became sick to
my stomach. I looked up to the sky and said to myself, “what am I
doing here?” I vividly remember this to this day.
Training
During
basic training at Fort Devens, Mass. I lifted weights every chance I
could. I did start training during my senior year in high school and
the results I achieved I wanted to keep up.
The
results paid off. At the hand grenade training day I was able to
throw the grenade far beyond the limit of the range. One of our
platoon leaders, Lt. Lawson stated that I would be throwing the
javelin in the upcoming battalion track meet. That surprised me
because I was never on any sports team in school. I was fortunate to
win the javelin throw in the battalion meet with no form whatsoever.
That accomplishment put me into the forthcoming post meet.
I
was able to borrow someones track shoes during my event. They helped
immensely. I wish I would`ve trained with them before the meets. The
three winning throws were in a one foot triangle. My throw was
awarded third place overall. Previously I had never thrown the
javelin
so
this achievement sparked an inner desire to excel in other ventures.
After
basic training, a short break and some three day passes the entire
brigade headed north west to Camp Drum, NY near the Canadian border
in Watertown. It was in April of `66 where we would train for six
weeks. The purpose was for A.I.T. or advanced infantry training. At
Fort Devens spring had sprung and the weather was to everyones
liking. During our basic training most of our duty was taking place
in the freezing cold, blizzards and deep snow. We welcomed the spring
weather with open arms. This was to change drastically when we
arrived at Camp Drum. It was just like going back into the dead of
winter. Most of the training there was cold and in very deep snow.
The purpose of A.I.T. Was to coordinate the various units of the
brigade.
They
all had to mesh together to work as one. Headquarters, artillery,
fire support, mortar platoons, canine units, infantry platoons and
mechanized all had to work together like a fine watch. The strange
thing that bothered us the most that we trained in a freezing cold
climate and was never told we were going to vietnam. We were
constantly told we were going to South America for “police action.”
The reason we were told this was the fact that there would have been
many recruits going “AWOL” (absent without leave). The Fort
Devens Base was reopened just for the 196th to train at.
I`m sure all the bases in the country were utilized the same way as
this was the largest troop build-up since WWII.
While
at Camp Drum I continued with the weight training. The daily training
regime was different from basic training. It was almost like a normal
job. After morning P.T. (physical training), and chow, we would
either patrol out to the ranges or hop on a deuce and a half, ( two
and a half ton truck), and ride out quite far to no man`s land.
There we would practice general combat soldiering and set up
defensive positions. In most cases we would head back to our barracks
before dark. We would have the evenings to ourselves. There was a
large gymnasium complex that wasn`t too far from my barracks. I would
walk there each night with a couple buddies to lift weights. Being
twenty years old
I
was impressionable and believed what I read and most of what I was
told. I happened to buy a fitness magazine and read an article on how
to “bulk” up and gain strength in a short period of time. I
followed the course diligently. I became very interested in fitness
right from the beginning of my deployment. Whenever there was a time
out from training, being in classrooms, marching, or in the field, to
break the monotony the guys would relieve themselves by picking on
one another. It was called “grab ass”. Of course the men of
smaller or weaker stature would be picked upon the most. When all the
guys were wrestling or running around seeking another opponent, some
would run toward me haphazardly and then think twice and veer off in
another direction. I would chuckle to myself but it instilled in me
to keep the weight training up.
Back
to the magazine that I purchased. The article stated that one could
gain ten pounds of muscle and the strength would come along with it.
You would do heavy squats with as much weight as you could handle.
The same with bench presses and heavy arm curls with a straight bar.
At night you would drink large volumes of milk, actually force feed
it throughout the night.
The
transformation in me was incredible. After dinner I would take 6-8
cartons and sip it through the night. I went from 190 lbs. To 214
lbs. while at Camp Drum. One night I walked into the dining hall
after my nightly training session and my buddies laughed at me. My
fatigues were shrinking so it seemed. My sleeves were half way up my
arms. My shirt buttons were popping and my trousers were skin tight.
Headquarters company wasn`t too thrilled about issuing me a whole
new wardrobe.
One
night when entering the dining hall, most guys were playing cards or
just B. S. ing, a bunch of northern New York farm boys challenged me
to arm wrestling. Stanley Buyea was the champ from his parts.
Wouldn`t you know it, I cleaned house and was titled the arm
wrestling champ of our company. It brought a lot of respect along
with it.
During
the training at Camp Drum there was a lot of individual, company,
and platoon training as well as the training on the battalion level.
Very many artillery, grenade, mortar and explosive simulator devises
were employed there. The purpose was to give the troops the actual
sense of combat. After our training there we were very happy to
return to Fort Devens and back to the spring time weather. It was
also closer to home for me, just 120 miles, and a three day pass was
welcomed. I was also to be married on May 21st
so planning had to be made and accommodations scheduled. Also it
should be noted that every chance we got during the previous seven
months of training when a pass was given out, every effort was made
to find a way home even if it were for just a few hours. Sometimes as
much as eight guys would pile into one car just to drive to Ohio and
back on a weekend pass. It meant so much to see ones family. One time
I borrowed a Chevy Corvair, a friends car, and drove to Middletown,
CT from Camp Drum with three buddies. We were released Friday evening
and had to return by curfew Sunday at midnight. Home sickness played
a role all through our training.
Another
training deployment took place a short time after our arrival back to
Fort Devens in May.
The
entire brigade traveled to Camp Edwards Air Force Base at Cape Cod
for A.U.T., or advance unit training. That put the icing on the cake
for the fine tuning of the unification of all the battalions and
support groups. It comes to mind now, how gullible we were. All this
training was for police action in South America?
Tay
Ninh Base Camp
So
it was Aug. 4, 1966 on the edge of the airstrip at Tay Ninh.
There
was a forward reconnaissance party from the 25th Inf. Div.
waiting for my unit to arrive. They were using the airstrip which
they formed just by landing and taking off in an open clearing. The
more they used it, the more it became a viable airstrip.
I
was to wait for my buddies to arrive from their month long journey on
the troop ships. During the previous nine months together we became
very close. We were like brothers. It was a happy reunion that week
when we began to build our base camp “hooch”. We immediately got
into a scheduled pattern of rotating duties between the various
companies, platoons, and squads. For the first month of our combat
tour our main mission was to build the Tay Ninh base camp. It was to
be on a huge tract of flat land just outside the city. During the day
the weather was like a desert, hot, dry, and dusty. Our “home”
tents went up pretty rapidly. They became a welcomed site when
returning from extended combat missions. A wooden floor, bunk, and
foot locker became a home away from home. The daily grind would
consist of building perimeter bunkers. These were built by filling
six thousand sandbags per bunker. They were stacked over a skeleton
frame of eight by eight beams. They were built to repel small arms
fire, R.P.G. rounds, mortars; and other explosive devices. We worked
in the scorching hot sunshine well over 100 degrees. Many daily
missions were also begun, search and destroy, recon patrols and such
were the norm.
Many
other duties had to be performed to make the base camp productive.
Some of these were K.P. Or kitchen police, burning of the excrement,
or stirring the waste and kerosene in 55 gallon drums cut in half
horizontally. The latter was the most undesirable duty to be on.
Also tending to ones gear on a daily basis was on everyones list. But
the best times were had were spent in the base camp.
The
most dreaded duty in Nam, I believe was going on an ambush patrol.
Every day predetermined positions were established for a night ambush
patrol to be set up. Suspected
enemy
routes or known enemy activity would become the prime location for an
ambush.
To
this day I remember going on my first ambush patrol. I took place
during my first week in base camp. Most ambushes I accompanied were
squad sized, about ten to fifteen men. Some were two squad sized or
even platoon sized. I averaged just under two ambushes a week or
about seventy five during my tour.
A
platoon was made up of four squads. Each squad consisted of
approximately eleven men. It was usually lead by an e-5 buck
sergeant. An RTO, (radio telephone operator), two grenadiers, a
machine gun squad and riflemen made up the squad. The company was
made up of four platoons and usually a mortar, (weapons), platoon.
Each platoon had a platoon leader, usually a second lieutenant, and a
platoon sergeant, usually a master sergeant. A Battalion was usually
made up of four companies with the addition of a weapons company for
fire support. The weapons usually consisted of Howitzers and/or heavy
duty mortars. The Brigade usually consisted of 3 Battalions.
Variations were often made in the previous sizes of the units.
We
lined up at dusk, my platoon Sgt. Ronald S. Figueroa would take us
out, a squad sized
ambush
patrol. His R.T.O., (radio operator), my machine gun team, (m60), a
couple grenadiers, (m40), and riflemen, (m16s), would make up the
patrol. We each had a claymore mine that we would set up to the front
of of each position about fifteen meters. I cannot describe the
feeling I had
in the pit of my stomach when I was standing there lined up getting
ready to leave the base camp. It was the most sickening feeling I
ever had I wondered if I would be coming back. I noticed that the
other guys we all praying in their own way. We glanced at each other
and noticed a look we have never seen before on each others faces. It
was a form of horror. During my time in `Nam the feelings never
changed.
The Million Dollar
Wound
This
happened during my first few weeks in Nam. We would leave our base
camp in daylight and patrol the region around Tay Ninh Province.
This was done on a rotating basis with other platoons and it would
take the monotony out of filling sand bags and building bunkers
around the camp perimeter. If the distance was further we would board
helicopters to provide the element of surprise. This particular
patrol brought us across a large rice paddy. I was to the right of my
squad leader Sgt. Carvalho. We began to approach the edge of a tree
line. All of a sudden out of a “spider hole” popped up a Viet
Cong. “pop” went his carbine, a distinct sound that you could
tell what weapon it was. Sarge doubled over as I hit the dirt. The
V.C. disappeared. We brought the medic up and prepared Sgt.
Carvalho`s poncho and placed it under him. I helped carry him to a
med i-vac copter and his tour was over. We later found out that the
round went through his canteen and into his hip and wasn`t life
threatening. It sent him home. The term “million dollar wound”
was heard throughout the camp the next few days. A million dollar
wound meant that you got to go home alive and is worth a million
dollars to you. Would you rather have a million dollars or your life?
The V.C. That caused the turmoil escaped through the rear of the
spider hole as they were built with a tunnel rear exit outlet. They
used this form of combat often.
Claymore Mine Safety
While
spending time in base camp the first month bad news traveled fast. A
soldier in “A” company, not too far from our “B” company, was
demonstrating the use of a claymore mine to a new recruit. He was
showing him the proper use for an upcoming ambush patrol. While
showing him how to arm the device he placed the detonator on his cot.
He proceeded to install the blasting cap into the orifice. Someone
picked up the detonator and squeezed it setting off the mine. A
soldier walking by the tent was killed. The recruit standing in the
isle lost both legs to his knees and landed on his stumps and rolled
over.
Word
was passed that detonators would only be placed in claymores at the
ambush sites.
Incoming
It
happened during the first few months of in-country. We were getting
used to the routine of climbing on choppers every few days and using
the element of surprise when contacting the enemy. This particular
mission was to be about two to three weeks in length. The reason we
knew was as we were dropped at our LZ we began to set up a base camp.
It was a battalion sized operation. When we exited the choppers we
immediately secured a perimeter. This was S.O.P.,(standard operating
procedure). I knew we would be there for a while as I noticed a lot
of colored smoke
canisters going off in the LZ. These
indicated positions for supplies being dropped by parachutes. We were
instructed to set up defensive positions and that we would be there
for some time. We were also supplied with sandbags to fill.
While
we were setting up our positions we heard the engineers blasting the
remaining trees in the LZ with C4 blasting putty. C4 was like a soft
clay. It was amazing. All you had to do was shape it where you wanted
to blast, stick in a blasting cap, form the putty around it nice and
tight, and wire it to a claymore mine actuating device, for an
electrical charge. You would then get back far out of the way and
detonate the detonator and Kaboom! The engineers would just place a
ring around the base of a tree and one blast took it away. When it
came to chowing down our “C” rations we would use a pinch of C4
under a can of beans or other main dish, light the marble sized C4,
and watch it burn like gunpowder and heat up our meal instantly. We
all carried a pound in our “ditty” bags.
Continued: Please keep reading
The
secured area was about the size of 3-4 football fields. There was
enough room for about six to eight choppers to land or take off in
succession. The heat and humidity was almost unbearable~even for the
choppers. Word got around through the grapevine, that some officers
were parachuting into this LZ so they could earn their “wings,”jump
wing badges for parachuting during wartime. They were jumping out of
cargo planes. This all backfired on them as some broke their legs as
the altitude just wasn`t enough to open their chutes properly. Hate
to say it but it was an ongoing joke between the troops for a while.
Another
thing that happened at this LZ with the choppers was the effect the
heat and humidity had on them. The choppers were lined up one day to
begin a search and destroy mission. We would usually load 8-10 troops
with gear, a squad size, on each “Huey,” (UH-1 Helicopter). It
happened to be just past noon, probably the hottest part of the day.
I didn`t see it but we heard that the choppers had a tough time
clearing the tree tops adjacent to our base camp. On one particular
mission one chopper had a tough time gaining altitude and hooked its
landing frame on some tree limbs and somersaulted over. Some of the
troops had injuries, broken legs, arms, and such. From then on the
chopper crews told us to lessen the loads accordingly. The weight was
a factor along with the heat and humidity so the chopper engines
required this relief. While all this action was taking place during
setting up of this temporary base camp our positions were just about
ready by the end of the day. We built a wall of sandbags about four
feet tall and twelve feet long in the front of our position. It was
enough to protect us substantially from incoming fire, mortars and
such from outside the perimeter. We were positioned in three man
teams so through the night one soldier would be on watch and rotate
his time with the other two. One hour on, two hours, hopefully, of
sleep.
Our
claymore mines were places about fifteen meters to the front of our
position in the afternoon. On the first night my watch included
midnight to one a.m. While my buddies were getting their much needed
Z`s, I was leaning my head, with steel pot attached, up against an
eight inch diameter tree. I was sitting up on the sandbag wall. It
was dead silent as I was looking out into pitch black darkness. We
had to keep blinking not only to stay awake but to erase the false
images that you began to think were real. I was just checking my
wristwatch and was just about ready to wake up the next watchman. It
was one o`clock. I was still leaning against the tree when all of a
sudden I was thrown off, blasted back onto the ground with an amazing
force. The whole sky lit up in front of our position. Flares from our
base camp began to light up the sky. We didn`t know what happened or
what it was. As things settled down and we knew it wasn`t caused by
the enemy we settled back into the night routine. A warrant officer
came to out position within fifteen minutes of the explosion. I
explained to him that I was thrown off my roost next to the tree.
Using his flashlight he then checked around our position and the
front of the tree. He dug out a steel piece of shrapnel that weighed
about a pound right next to where my head was resting. It took him
all of ten minutes to dig the fragment out. He also explained to us
that a soldier from another platoon who was sitting on top of his
bunker roof got a piece of the same round lodged in his butt. He was
med i -vaced out immediately to a hospital. His position was about
three hundred meters behind ours on the other side of the base
camp.
The
following morning two warrant officers came by to check the tree
again and the front of our position. They informed us that the
“explosion” was “friendly fire”. It was a 155 Howitzer round
fired from Cu-Chi Vietnam, twenty five miles away at a major
artillery base, (headquarters of the 25th Inf. Div. It was
meant to hit our area as Vietcong were suspected to be in this area.
This was common practice. Evidently they didn`t realize we were
operating out of this area at that time. Gladly we didn`t hear from
them again during our stay.
The
round happened to hit a large tree 50-100 meters to our front. We
began to think where would it have landed if it didn`t hit that tree!
Continued: Please keep reading
Base Camp Completed
When
the base camp was completed we began to participate more in search
and destroy missions in and around Tay Ninh Province known as war
zone “C”. We were located sixty miles northwest of Saigon right
near the Cambodian border. Our main mission was to defray the
infiltration from the Ho Chi Minh trail which ran along the Cambodian
border from the north. Operations in the Boi Loi Woods and the Iron
Triangle were prevalent.
At
the beginning we were involved in Operation Attleboro. We were
working along with the 25th Infantry Division who were
fighting the 272nd V.C. Regiment. In five days of fighting
758 dead VC were actual body count statistics. There were many more
dragged off by their compatriots. Amongst the recovered goods from
the enemy 1000 tons of rice was hauled out by the 196th
and distributed to the south Vietnamese populace. We came upon caches
of rice on stacks of hand built pallets about six inches above ground
to protect it from the elements. Many of the 100 lb. sacks had CARE
stamped on them which baffled the heck out of us. Where did the rice
originate? We proceeded to place all the rice on the heavy duty
Chinook copters. You have to remember most of the fighting took place
in the jungle where the VC could easily hide and couldn`t be spotted
from the air. If they happened to be in the villages they were routed
from them. If there was ever a major battle in an open field it was
likely provoked by an attacking VC regiment or group. That occurrence
was very rare.
After
Attleboro the 196th became very involved in Operation
Junction City, the largest operational thrust of the entire war. This
operation utilized 22 battalions as the attacking force. This huge
force was supported by 17 artillery battalions and over 4000 Air
Force sorties. An aerial armada consisting of 249 helicopters were
flown in this assault. This number remains today as the largest U. S.
Army accrued assault ever undertaken, never again duplicated during
this conflict or any future American assault in any war.
The
196th was also utilized in in operation Cedar Falls and
Gadsden during `66 and `67. We were also deployed in and around Dau
Tieng, the Michelin rubber plantation and the headquarters of the 3rd
Brigade of the 4th Infantry Division.
A
mission that comes to mind was when our company was to relieve units
of the 25th Infantry Division. It was during Operation
Attelboro just after a major battle they had on the Ho Chi Minh
trail. For three days the dead American G.I.s were unable to be
extricated from the battle zone. My platoon had the duty of carrying
out the thirty plus bodies to the choppers to be put into body bags
and sent back to the friendly lines. I`ve never seen such a horrible
site in my life.
The
bodies were stiff like plastic manic-ans. I was horrified when I saw
a majors body with a hole through his head where his eye was supposed
to be.
That
night we set up in the same positions where the battle took place.
There were so many of us that most of us had to dig our own fox
holes. It was one of the worst nights I had in Nam. First of all no
one should ever witness a fresh battle seen. Most of the trees were
blown away 2-6 feet above ground. There were holes of all sizes in
the ground everywhere around us. Flies were buzzing throughout. There
were dead carcasses of deer and other animals familiar with Vietnam.
The worst thing of all
was the blood
everywhere and the horrific stench of the smell of death. It is the
most grotesque smell of rot especially that they laid there in the
heat for three days. Guys in my unit were puking as they were digging
in and setting up their defensive positions. It was no place to be.
We set up in two or three man positions not knowing what was to come
during the night. The sickening feeling was overwhelming. Field of
fire orders were given to everyone. Some were to fire ground level,
others were to fire at standing height, and the rest into the
trees-what was left of them. We rotated sleeping times that there was
always one awake per position throughout the night, if one could
sleep at all.
Deep
into the night all hell broke loose. It became brighter than daylight
with the use of parachute flares by our support teams. We opened up
with our weapons as instructed. We repelled the enemy and were
fortunate at this time to have no casualties on our side. We were so
very pleased to leave this area in one piece.
Close Encounters
Being
new soldiers in Nam wasn`t easy. We would look up to the “short
timers”, (guys with little time left in their tour), and
constantly ask for advice and listen attentively to their war
stories.
We
heard from them that if you survived the first thirty days of your
tour you would have a good chance of making it home. We also learned
from them to always lay low, hug the ground, and keep your steel pot
on. Lt. R. Brockman didn`t bide by this advice. He was a replacement
Lt. assigned as a new leader to our platoon. His first week in
country he made the extreme sacrifice.
During
a patrol he stood up tall and a sniper round found its mark and
killed him. This proved the point of what we had been told. From then
on many of us abided by the rules more closely.
Another
close encounter to a body bag that I should mention was when we were
attacking a suspected VC stronghold on the crest of a small hill. My
platoon was in a line formation in what was called a sweeping motion.
We charged at the village and I disappeared from site. I went down a
small hole dug into the ground that was covered with branches and
growth. It has been referred to as a “pungi pit”. Pungi pits were
used extensively throughout the Vietnam war. Even before the
occupation of American forces they were used. I believe the idea came
from the trapping of animals. The human trap is dug into the ground
about 6-8 ft. deep Bamboo stakes were stuck into the ground
vertically and sharpened into a fine point. At times human excrement
was placed on the bamboo tips to cause infection to the victims. To
camouflage the pit the opening was covered with small tree branches
and growing grass of the surrounding landscape. We were issued
jungle boots with steel plates in their soles to prevent the stakes
from going into our feet. Luckily for me this pit had been there for
quite a while. The vertical sharpened bamboo sticks were rotted. When
my body landed on them they just collapsed under me. Fate was on my
side, as I crawled out of that hole pretty shaken up. I got my senses
together and continued on the mission.


Dealing With the
Locals
Being
out in the “boonies” for days on missions would become a common
occurrence. Searching for “Charlie” was the priority of course.
Some days when we checked out villages and interrogated the locals I
would try to make friends. Especially the children. I got to be
pretty good at speaking common Vietnamese phrases. I carried a
Vietnamese to English booklet with me and studied it every chance I
could. Upon entering a village or just running into the populace I
would immediately draw the people to me when I spoke a catchy phrase.
I became a conversation piece to them as they thought I spoke their
language fluently. I continued to study and learn more phrases. At
different times we would enter a village and I would call out a
phrase and some villagers would bring me an ice water or cold soda.
It was fun as the other soldiers were wondering what I was saying to
be rewarded this special treatment. At times I was even brought up to
the front command to help out with the interrogation processes. The
most fun I got out of it was with the local children. One day on a
break I was swimming with a group of young Vietnamese children under
a bridge. Being very strong at the time I was able to “shot put”
them into
the air like a catapult. They absolutely loved the adventure. This
along with the catchy phrases made me a hero to them. I have some
great photos of that happy time. Unfortunately
it
was short lived and we had to move on.
On
one particular day I stayed in the water too long and as I came out I
discovered about 25 leeches all over my body. Their heads were
already under my skin. They were even dug into my scrotum. My squad
leader, Sgt. “Moke,” (Mokalahua), our Hawaiian Sgt. used a
burning cigarette tip and some insect repellant too coax them out.
You were not supposed to pull them off. If you did their heads would
break off and infections would most likely occur.
Another
creature we weren`t fond of was the fire ants which were just about
everywhere. One day while taking a break for lunch on a patrol I
happened to sit next to a tree. I didn`t notice the red fire ants and
I abruptly shot up screaming in pain. It felt like a hypodermic
needles sticking me. We were also warned about banded viper snakes.
These were snakes about a foot or two long with alternate one inch
bands of white and brown. They were so deadly that we were told if
you get bitten you would only get to walk three steps until you would
die. I did get to see some vipers that some soldiers killed and was
happy never to confront any live ones.
Mail Call
The
bright side of every day was, in most cases, mail call. A letter or
package from home was always a spark to keep moral high and bring a
feeing of hope and caring. Every once in a while there was news from
home that everyone would dread. It would change the nature of the
soldier, his performance and sadly would affect his fellow comrades.
One such letter affected yours truly. It came from my mom in November
`66 while my wife and son were staying at my parents house while I
would be completing my tour. In the letter was the news that every
soldier dreaded. My best friend was seeing my wife. I became totally
humiliated, angry and saddened. It changed my outlook of my purpose
of soldiering. I wanted out of this whole mess. I wanted to go home.
I
was offered the opportunity to go to go to O.C.S. (officers candidate
school), by headquarters company as word got around that there was a
shortage of officers in the military. Along with this you would have
to serve an additional two more years of active duty. With all that
was going on now I just wanted to complete my eight months remaining
so I refused the offer.
At
times we had to become counselors to our buddies when they received a
disheartening letter from home. Once in a while while cleaning our
weapons or settling down at our night positions some of the
counseling took place. There was always talk of the easy way home.
Mostly it was to shoot ones trigger finger off by “accident”. I
saw many of my buddies point a 45 cal. pistol at their fingers or at
their toes. We would talk each other out of it.
During
the last week of October `66 I was called out of my hootch at the
main base camp the company executive officer. He notified me with a
letter from the Red Cross that I had become a father of a boy on
October 26th. Deep feelings came over me. I was elated
and confused all at once. Would I ever get to see my son? When I got
word from my wife that she suggested Gerald for his first name, I
thought to myself, “is that a premonition”?
First Injury
The
first week of December `66 I was part of a platoon sized patrol, a
search and destroy mission not far from our base camp. I don`t know
where it came from but I was surprised by a flying tree branch. It
hit me in the face injuring mostly my left eye socket. I was treated
on the spot and sent back to base camp. Back at base camp I was
treated again and was found that I needed more care. Preparations
were made for me to be choppered to Tan San Nhut air base in Saigon.
In Saigon I was to be treated by a South Vietnamese female surgeon
who was about 82 years old, a specialist. It was important that I was
to wear civilian clothes. This was a precautionary measure so I
wouldn`t be noticed as a soldier and an easy target. No one knew how
many North Vietnamese perpetrators were in and around downtown Saigon
at the time. I was fixed with a black eye patch. The trip to Saigon
was quite an experience. All I had with me was my paperwork, an
address of the surgeons office and fortunately my old Brownie Hawkeye
camera. That crude camera proved to be worth its weight in gold for I
have the most wonderful photo collection of my time spent in Vietnam.
I
ate at the officers mess hall in downtown Saigon. There were MP ,
(military police), bunkers in front of many downtown buildings
including where I stayed. 'I was shocked
at the accommodations while eating my first meal at the officers mess
hall. The provisions were better than I had experienced in all my
military life thus far. The hall was air conditioned and there were
young Vietnamese waitresses prevalent. One seventeen year old
waitress caught my eye. Her name was Lin. She seemed to be overly
friendly toward me and I was overwhelmed. Of course I had been
spending weeks in the jungle so maybe it was my mind playing tricks
on me. I went to my appointment that morning not too far from
downtown. When I was treated by the Vietnamese surgeon I was told
that time would be the only care she would recommend. She applied
lubricant and medication to my eye socket and instructed me to wear
the eye patch until my eye healed. I left the office and walked back
to the mess hall for lunch. On the way I took some great photos of
civilian life in the capitol of South Vietnam. I was to stay
overnight at a downtown hotel which was used by the American
government. I would then shuttle my way back to my unit.
Back
at the mess hall I noticed that Lin was still working. I got her
attention when I remarked ,”Co dep wah”.,
which meant hello to a pretty girl. It surprised her that I spoke in
Vietnamese so I tried my best speaking with her further. I just
spoke in the phrases that I knew. I guess I did fairly well because
she requested that I join her for a movie that evening. I accepted
and met her in front of the mess hall after dinner that night. I
thought to myself that this would be a good opportunity to learn more
about this countries culture.
We
entered the movie theater and I was suddenly taken aback. Here I was
a tall, white, American, civilian clothed with a patch on his eye. I
was accompanying an attractive young Vietnamese girl. All eyes in
the theater seemed to focus on us. Things settled down after we
seated ourselves and the film began to project.
The
theater was full and my blushing slowly subsided. It was very
difficult to absorb the entertainment qualities
of the film. The speech was in French, and half the projection on the
screen was filled with captions. Vietnamese,
Chinese, English, and another language that I was not familiar with
covered most of the film. I was so glad I attended the movie, it was
a great learning experience.
I
told Lin in the best dialog I could muster that I would be going back
to my unit at Tay Ninh in the morning. I would see her for the last
time at breakfast. We exchanged addresses and I received one letter
from her a few days later. I never heard from her after that.
I
hopped on a shuttle after breakfast. It took me to the Tan Son Nhut
air base to a daily chopper run to the Tay Ninh air strip. After
experiencing the lifestyle of downtown Saigon I felt sadness for what
my buddies were going through in the field. I had a need that came
over me that I had to join them as soon as I was able. I arrived late
morning back at my platoon. It was too quiet, something wasn`t right.
I was told that on the previous ambush patrol that two of my dear
friends were killed and two others badly wounded. The sadness in camp
didn`t go away for days and it still lingers in my thoughts. Whenever
I visit the Vietnam Wall in Washington, D.C. I place my hand over
Dec. 12, 1966 and the names of Anthony Schiavolino and James Van
Cedarfield. They will always be remembered.
Losing
our first “brothers”, those that we trained with from the
beginning at Fort Devens, had an affect on all of us. We became more
cautious, suspicious, and realized to a greater degree of the reality
of war, how horrible it was and what it could bring. The general mood
throughout our company changed to a more serious nature. Grab ass was
down to a minimum as we buckled down to make sure we did our job to a
higher perspective. What happened in the past week was a wakeup call
that let us know that some of us wouldn`t be going home alive.
The
bright side of every day was , in most cases, Mail Call. A letter or
package from home was always a spark to keep moral high and bring a
feeling of hope and caring. Every once in a while there was news from
home that everyone dreaded. It would change the nature of the
soldier, his performance and sadly would affect his fellow soldiers.
At times we had to become counselors to our buddies. Once in a while
while cleaning our weapons or settling down at our night positions
out in the field some of the counseling took place. There was always
talk of the easy way home. Mostly it was to shoot ones trigger
finger off by “accident.” I saw many of my buddies point a “45”
pistol at their finger or at their toes. We would talk each other out
of it .
The
Aborted Mission
“B”
Company was set up for a couple weeks far from Tay Ninh. A planned
company sized search and destroy mission left the LZ at 1 p.m. Most
patrols left early in the morning in order to beat the excruciating
heat of the day. If the patrol took you through the jungle it would
help because of the overhead canopy that would provide shade from the
sun. This particular day we set out directly across a large rice
paddy in the glaring sun. We were spread out in the usual 5 to 10
meters between one another covering the size of a few football
fields. The lead command was toward the front of the left front
flank.
My
machine gun squad was toward the center of the right flank. Only
about twenty minutes into the mission a medi-vac chopper arrived to
extricate a soldier overcome by heat exhaustion.
A
fellow soldier shouted out that his thermometer read 130 degrees. The
reflection off the water beamed into our faces and bodies was
unbearable. After about five or six episodes of medi-vac extractions
the gung ho commanding officer decided to call off the mission and
sent the company back to the LZ. We found out later that heat cramps
were affecting him and he finally realized that it was a mistake to
patrol at that time of day out in the open in the water. The
following morning we restarted the mission and took a different
route. More planning was incorporated into future missions.
The
Worst Day of My Life
Another
company search and destroy mission was to take place. This time we
were to sweep directly through a dense jungle. Through surveillance
and intelligence it was known the enemy was in the area.
Approximately a regiment sized VC encampment was expected to be
lurking in these surroundings, upwards of up to 2500 insurgents.
Being in Nam for about four months now, the search and destroy
missions were becoming routine. We learned the fact that you had to
look out for your buddies asses as they were looking out for yours.
We were a close knit group and had become very good at what we had to
do. We were performing the tasks at hand in order to bring each other
home alive. Individually we became extremely cautious.
Caches
of rice and weapons were being found everywhere. A large sized enemy
unit was expected to be encountered. Master Sgt. James Durfee, my
platoon Sgt. from day one, abruptly gave me a machete and commanded
me to be on point on the right flank of this company sweep. Besides
being a “tunnel rat”, or being on an ambush patrol, the duty of
being on “point” was the most feared and hated duty in Nam. I
believe it is the worst duty.
Through
all my training Sgt. Durfee and I never saw eye to eye. He despised
me. Being such a “strack”, (soldier of perfection), soldier, it
was strange that he had two downfalls. One, being that he was a
physical failure. He couldn`t perform one push-up. His nickname
throughout our training regime was“spoonchest”. The other
downfall was that he actually couldn`t measure up to the pressure of
combat. Everything he taught us he couldn`t personally handle. He
had a nervous breakdown and was sent back to the states.
He
held back my promotions a few times as he just had it in for me. I
was the physical specimen that he wasn`t. All through basic training
we just didn`t hit it off. I would mention his chain smoking as
being unhealthy and he would counter with more push-ups or more K.P.
(kitchen police), duty. He was self conscience that his derogatory
nickname came from me. I therefore became his “whipping boy.”
So
on this company mission Sgt. Durfee thought that he would have his
day. I took the machete from him and gave him a stare that would
remain with him for the rest of his life. I began to cut through the
thick jungle
undergrowth with aplomb. I left my M60 machine gun with my crew. We
were spread out in two flanks with
individual scouts ten meters parallel to the flanks . I was at least
ten meters ahead of the nearest soldier swinging a machete with an
M16 at the ready in my left hand. I was witnessing common jungle
noises as I moved ahead.
Trudging
through the jungle in the intense heat and humidity for over an hour,
I occasionally glanced back to see my buddy signaling to proceed.
Wiping the perspiration constantly and slapping mosquitoes didn`t
help the task at hand. Eventually I entered a small clearing. I
began to notice a dead silence, an aura that you can only imagine
that takes place viewing a horror film. Some of the trees were
stripped of foliage.
All
of a sudden in a split second of time a loud shot, a thud and popping
of bullets began to whiz all around me.
An
RPG, (rifle propelled grenade), round hit a tree only five feet to
my left and fell next to my left boot. It hit the tree at an angle
without detonating the firing pin at the nose. I immediately dove to
the base of an ant hill which was directly to the right front of me.
The perpetrators took off running down a trail behind them. Lucky for
me they took off and unlucky for them they immediately ran into a
unit of the 25th
who cut them to pieces with an M60 machine gun. It turned out that
this was the closest near death experience of my tour. It has always
been on my mind that if they just used their rifle to shoot me in the
chest I wouldn`t be here today.
Mule
Being
the strongest man in the company had its drawbacks. Not only did I
not have the fun of the grab ass games as was always avoided, I
became the “mule” on the forced marches and extended company
patrols. When the company had to relocate to a new area to work out
of, the mortar platoons naturally had to join us. I was chosen often
to carry the 35 lb. base plate of the 3.5 mortar. It was strapped to
my back and was in addition to my 35 lbs. of my combat gear. Try
carrying 70 lbs. Of gear all
day long in 100 plus degree sweltering climate. Many times at the
end of the day when we were to set up our defensive positions, I
would fall onto my back like a turtle unable to roll over. My
buddies would have to help me get my gear off. I remember being so
sore that it would take me all night to recuperate.
Rotation
After
spending six months in Nam it became obvious that the 196th
LIB couldn`t go on with the same members for the entire one year
tour. The unit couldn`t just pick up and return to the states, the
base camp would be empty. Beginning in Feb.`67 deployment began to
send a percentage of the troops of the 196th
to other units in Nam to finish their tours of duty. Some were lucky
to be placed into non combat units such as serving in an MP unit. I
was not so lucky. I received my orders in March of `67 to be
relocated to the 3rd
Brigade of the 4th
Infantry Div. 2nd
battalion 12th
Infantry Co. “C”. Their headquarters were located twelve miles
north of Tay Ninh at Dau Tieng, the Michelin Rubber Plantation,
closer to the Cambodian border, still in war zone “C”. I would
be finishing my tour in a combat rifle platoon. I was not a happy
camper. I left Tay Ninh on a convoy in early March with all
my
gear, foot locker, and military records. Being a replacement soldier
I answered many questions about my previous service. I also had to
make all new friends. I fit in quite comfortably as we were all in
the same boat as it were.
Famous
Battle
What
stands out while serving the last five months of my service was being
part of the largest one day battle casualty rate of the Vietnam war
for the enemy. On March 21, 1967 Fire Support Base Gold or LZ Gold
for short was attacked. It was also known as the battle of Suoi Tre.
The camp was manned by two infantry companies of the 3/22 and an
artillery battalion of the 2/77 totaling 450 men. They were attacked
by the elite 272nd
main force regiment of the 9th
VC Div. reinforced by two additional battalions that raised the
hostile forces to 2500 troops.
The
support base had withstood almost three hours of attacks with the
help of the Air Force flying 31 sorties around their perimeter. The
2/22 with their APC`s (armored personnel carriers), and the 2/34
armor arrived and the rout was
on. My “C” company 2/12 was just outside the perimeter and
pinned down while the APC`s attacked firing their 50`s into the LZ.
Beehive rounds from the artillery inside the perimeter were fired
extensively. The rounds emulated a large shotgun shell. One such shot
obliterated a quad fifty, (four fifty caliber machine guns mounted on
a deuce and a half). A bunch of VC were trying to turn the weapon to
fire it against the American forces. They didn`t have a chance. The
rounds were fired into the ranks of the attacking VC. Some of the VC
had claymore mine like devices strapped around their waists. They
would run around in the perimeter and face their enemy and blow
themselves up. Many of the dead were found to be carrying large
amounts of drugs to help them carry out their goals. 647 enemy troops
were killed that day not counting those dragged off. Bulldozers were
brought in to bury the dead. I lost a good friend that day, Jim
Brewer. He was one of the originals from Tay Ninh. He happened to be
in the center of the perimeter when a direct hit from an enemy mortar
found him. He totally disappeared.
All
participating American units received the Presidential Unit Citation
for their heroic defense of the support base.
Getting
Short
As
time went on my feelings of making it home grew every day. I would
write on my helmet cover each day the number of days left in my tour.
Being a short timer had its benefits. I became very good friends with
my new platoon leader of “C” 2/12. During idle chat he
questioned me why I hadn`t received my promotion to Specialist 4th
class. I told him about Sgt. Durfee`s rift against me all through
training and my in country service. My promotion was submitted within
the next few days. My R and R, (rest and recuperation), was coming up
at the same time. I left for Bangkok, Thailand the following week.
The four day R and R was a great relief from the hell of war. I got
to tour the Buddhist temples of Bangkok and took some fine photos.
The golden Buddhas were amazing and delights everyone who sees them
in my albums. The trip back from Bangkok to Dau Tieng was somewhat
uneventful. I was traveling with Sgt. Ron Davis, also a transfer from
the 196th,
and we decided to spend an extra night in Saigon. I don`t know what
got into us but we toured the city and when nightfall came we
searched out a place to stay in the suburbs. It seemed like a middle
class neighborhood where we started to bargain for a place to spend
the night. My skills with the Vietnamese language paid off. For a
case of 7-up we got to stay at an elderly woman`s home. She stated
that it was an honor for us to stay in her own oversized bed. She set
it up for us and let us be. There was even a large paddle fan
directly over us. Can you imagine the thought of our throats being
slit that night only slightly came to mind. The following day I
made a small mistake that cost me my promotion. On my return to my
unit I followed along with Sgt. Davis and went back into downtown
Saigon to check out the bars. We didn`t realize their was a curfew at
11 p.m. and abruptly picked up by MPs. The following morning we were
shuttled to Tan Son Nhut and choppered back to our units. Wouldn`t
you know it, a couple days later a report came down to our first Sgt.
and I was issued an article 15. An article 15 was a misdemeanor
charge, a minor infraction on my military record.
My
platoon leader felt bad about it and
promised me that when I had thirty days left of my tour he would
assign me to guard the front gate of our post. It was one of the
happiest days of my life when I had thirty days left of my tour. I
spent eight hours a day guarding the front gate inside a bunker. It
was just like having a normal job. No more ambushes or search and
destroy missions. I was elated.
Home
to Civilian Life
August
4, 1967 couldn`t come soon enough. I was transported to Tan Son Nhut
Air Base in my dress uniform. All my personal belonging I packed into
a wooden crate. I gave my civilian footlocker to one of my buddies.
The crate would be dropped off on my mothers front lawn about two
months later.
I
flew to California on a commercial jet then onto Mcguire A.F.B. In
New Jersey. After about spending a week of disembarkation with the
military I arrived at Bradley Field in CT. When I exited the plane
and stepped onto the runway I literally kissed the ground. I had
survived. My family was there to bring me home. I had this strange
feeling while walking through the airport. Here I was dressed in my
military uniform and people were totally ignoring me. They were
purposely turning away from me. I wasn`t concerned with myself but my
uniform represented my fellow soldiers and what they were going
through on the other side of the world. To this day I have a hard
time understanding that. I`ll always remember the infamous quote,
“All gave some-some gave all”.
The
experiences I witnessed for the twenty months of my service during
the Vietnam War certainly had a bearing on my life that has lasted me
my lifetime. Good and bad. I am just so happy to be here.
God
bless all my military comrades.
Great story Jerry. Glad you made it home from Vietnam. You and all our Veterans have my deepest respect and thanks for fighting for our country and for all other peoples freedom. Stay well.
ReplyDeleteStupendous personal account; remarkable for its detail and remembrances. May God bless Jerry and all those who served in Vietnam.
ReplyDeleteThank you for your service. During the past few months, I've read a book centered on the Vietnam war and talked to another veteran who is still suffering from the effects of the war. I am ashamed to say that I had forgotten the horrors of that time.
ReplyDeleteWhat a great, well told story. It makes my tour of duty at LAFB seem like a frat party.
ReplyDeleteI have searched online for over 20 years online for this dude who was my hero when I was in my early 20's trying to be a pro body builder. I worked with him a couple times roofing. I have talked about him many times with my wife and she was also happy to hear I found his blogs. I have told his story's about the war to many people since I left Connecticut. My favorite of all was the Famous Battle story on this page.
ReplyDeleteI will be posting a link to his blogs on my blog here soon; I have talked about Jerry on blog, also many times:
http://radmanart2ndhome.blogspot.com
My real life hero's growing up as a child were always Vietnam Veterans.
Thanks, Radman!
Delete