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
During 1968 Wayne became my mentor and guided me forward to my first competition, Mr. New England 1968. I was fortunate to place 5th in the tall division. This experience sparked me even further to dedicate myself to winning the Mr. New England title. I was hungry.
Every year at Mountain Park in Holyoke, MA, there were three contests held. These were held by Mr. Ed Jubinville of Jubinville Gym Equipment which is still in business and owned by Ed's children. Ed was the world famous muscle control artist and judged many Mr. Olympia contests, the premier contest in bodybuilding. The Mr. East Coast, was at the end of May, Junior Mr. America, at the end of July, and Mr. New England, on labor day weekend. From 1969 on I would enter these contests. The Mr. East Coast and Junior Mr. America contests were always tough. Professionals would enter from the big gyms of New York City, Boston, and those that were featured in health magazines. As time went on I began placing in these contests. By 1973 and 1974 I placed 2nd in the Mr. New England contest.
Franco Columbu, from California, Arnold's best friend and training partner, was guest poser that day, congratulated me. Franco went on to win Mr. Olympia after Arnold retired after 7 wins. Ed Jubinville told me to meet him the next day on Holyoke Mountain. He told me I was at the best shape of my life and to not miss the opportunity to have some great photos taken. I jumped at the chance.
