Just as we started to feel a little more comfortable with our reality and surroundings, the back door of the bar swung open and there was a silhouette of this guy standing in the doorway. Just like in the movies, when he stepped inside everyone stopped what they were doing for a second and looked over. I remember his appearance was quite different than the rest of us and he had this hardened, macho look about him. I was taken aback with his intimidating presence. We stared at him in wonder. "Who is this guy?" He was not dressed in the normal government issued green jungle fatigues like everyone else. He was wearing a different type of uniform commonly referred to as "tiger fatigues". They were not government issue and looked pretty awesome. As a note of reference, these fatigues were worn in the John Wayne movie Green Berets. He also carried what appeared to be a 45 pistol in a shoulder holster across his chest with a big Bowie knife on his belt. He casually walked over to the bar and ordered a beer. Definitely impressed the hell out of me.
Of course no one at our table knew who or what this guy was. I was so intrigued that I asked the guys at the next table what they knew. They told me that he was a LRRP with the Australian military. "What the hell is a LRRP?" I asked. I had no idea what that was. They told me it stood for Long Range Reconnaissance Patrol, a relatively new covert operations program in Vietnam. Our allies in country as well as the US military had these "teams" operating throughout different areas. He referred to them as being some "pretty bad asses". I told the guys at my table we all were pretty impressed and admittedly, somewhat in awe. I know that chance encounter had a major bearing on the decisions I would make during my tour in Vietnam.
Volunteering
On the last day of our 3 day in-country orientation, we were all quite anxious to get to our respective company assignments. I had made some friends during those three days and hung out mostly with this guy Kirkendahl, an ex-biker from my home state California. He went by the name Kirk and had told me he used to ride with the Hells Angels of California, San Bernardino Chapter. As we were both from Southern California and assigned to the same company, the 2nd of the 7th Cavalry we had become pretty good friends.
The orientation area where we had been living was a small compound fully enclosed by 10 foot high wired fencing and a main gate. As usual it was a typical hot humid day. Sometime in the afternoon we were all ordered to stand in group formation on the compound grounds for additional information and further assignments. As the officer in charge of the compound was giving his lecture, the main gate swung open as two military jeeps drove in and came to an abrupt stop in front of us.
There were two men in each jeep and they were a formidable looking group of characters. They were armed with a side arm and/or a CAR15 which is a more compact, shorter and more awesome looking version of the M16 rifle. They also wore the unconventional, non-military issued "Tiger fatigues." Overall, as to their appearance, their "tigers" were somewhat faded from frequent use and they wore them quite casually with un-tucked trouser legs, rolled up sleeves, bush hats and well worn bandanas. They wore no rank and certainly did not meet the required military dress code standards. As we all stood there in awe, I was reminded of the Australian LRRP we saw in the bar a few days before.
The guy in charge of our visitors, introduced as a captain, stood on top of the jeep and told us they were looking for "volunteers" to help develop a special operations group called the Long Range Reconnaissance Patrol or LRRPs. Volunteers will have to pass a thorough background check and undergo additional in country training. He noted that the work involved reconnaissance and intelligence gathering missions deep inside enemy territory. An LRRP
team consisted of 6 men, typically 4 Americans and 2 indigenous personnel as scouts.
As he concluded, the captain did note that because of the nature, sensitivity and secrecy of typical LRRP operations, they cannot consider volunteers that have a criminal record or are non-citizens. "Well that's crap", I thought. Here I was a permanent resident of the United States, although still a green card holder, drafted into the United States Army without a second thought yet they don't trust me enough to do this volunteer work? I was quite verbal in expressing my disappointment with my friend Kirk. Although he acknowledged his interest in LRRPs as well, he shrugged his shoulders in similar disappointment. He noted that he has had some run-ins with law enforcement in his past and probably won't be accepted either.
As we stood there waiting to be formally dismissed, some of the recruits had gathered around the LRRPs with great interest and asking lots of questions. Kirk and I walked over and listened to the questions and answers as well. As they were leaving I had a chance to talk to the captain one-on-one. I told him both Kirk and I had great interest in joining LRRPs but that our backgrounds probably would not allow it to happen. As he took our names, service numbers and duty information he noted that the LRRPs program is a brand new program in Vietnam's military intelligence operations. He also said that he would look into the matter regarding our request and see what he could do.
The next day Kirk and I reported to our assigned duty station, the 2nd of the 7th. Of course, being the new guys, over the following days we got every crappy detail they could think of which included KP, guard duty and burning the crap in the company latrine (just as depicted in the movie "Platoon"). After about a week of this and being thoroughly disappointed with my current circumstances, Kirk and I were hanging around our bunks one afternoon contemplating our future in Vietnam.
Just then the screen door of our barracks, or rather “hooch”, swung open with a bang. One of our platoon sergeants yelled out our names, “Bear, Kirkendahl, gather your shit. Your ride is here. You're reporting to LRRPs!" I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! Kirk and I looked at each other, smiled, gathered our stuff and jumped in the waiting jeep. On to bigger and better adventures!
By the way, my nickname ever since I entered the service has been “Bear”. Having immigrated to the United States from The Netherlands I had to deal with the constant mis-pronunciation and meaning of my family name. First of all, in Dutch my name means bear as in the animal rather than a brew that you drink. The brew that you drink in Dutch or German is spelled bier. Secondly, in English my name should pronounced bear or bare as opposed to beer. Growing up, I was always making that correction. I did the same in the military.
LRRP Training
Inside Camp Radcliff military base, we took a short jeep ride and arrived at the unit area of the Long Range Reconnaissance Patrol (LRRP) group. It wasn't a large area at all and consisted only of a few screen enclosed wooden structures. We were told to find an empty bunk, drop our gear and report to the first sergeant. After we were processed we were told that the training would begin early the next morning. When we went back to our bunks I had a chance to meet some of the other "volunteers". There were about a dozen or so new guys "recruited" from different units within the 1st Cavalry Division.
Over the next month we went through a rigorous training program that covered all facets of reconnaissance and commando training. As team members, we were expected to know and be able to carry out every man's function on the team. The training included classroom and hands on training in stealth and jungle movement, observation and ambush, close quarter combat, escape and evasion, map reading, weapons and explosives, radio communications, artillery and air support fire missions, medical emergencies and triage, helicopter insertion, extraction and rappelling. Fortunately I made it through the training without too much of a problem.
My friend Kirk did not fare so well as he broke his ankle during one of the training exercises. He had to drop out of the class and planned to finish training at a later time. After completing our training all the new guys were then assigned to a LRRP team. The team I was assigned to was a relatively seasoned group of guys headed up by an E6, John Barnes.
Barnes had a strong reputation as a team leader and I was pleased to be assigned to his team. As a side note, John Barnes and another experienced team leader in the unit, Bob Elias, were the actual individuals on which the lead characters were based in the 1987 movie Platoon. The movie's director, Oliver Stone, had some association with our unit where he had met Barnes and Elias. In the movie, their characters were played by Tom Berenger and Willem Dafoe respectively.
As I got to know the guys in the unit, I developed a close friendship with another "newbie" on my team by the name of Bob Teagle. Bob was originally stationed in Saigon as a clerk typist but being the more adventurous type joined LLRPs to take a more active part in the war. For the longest time some of the guys in the unit had a certain distrust of Bob; they all thought he was a plant from the Army's criminal investigative division (CID) sent there to spy on them because "nobody in their right mind would leave a desk job in Saigon and volunteer for the LRRPs!” Perhaps a basis for some of the mistrust was that our little unit had already developed a reputation of making "questionable" requisitions of government equipment and supplies. Being a newly created unit and out of the accepted mainstream supply line we had very little in the way of “basics” like furniture, storage equipment, power generators and even vehicles. We resorted to scrounging around, horse trading and sometimes, acquiring them by other creative means.
First Mission
I was looking forward to my first mission with both excitement and apprehension. It would be my first time out on patrol with a LRRP team (referred to and pronounced as “lurp”). Due to unavailability, our 6 man team did not include any indigenous personnel. I was assigned the position of rear scout and it was my job to cover our tracks as best as I could and to make sure we were not being followed. As it turned out this ended up being one of the most exciting, if not the loudest, missions of my tour.
There was an initial fly over by the TL and ATL (team leader and assistant team leader) of our AO (area of operation) that morning to get familiar with the terrain and to designate certain areas as possible insertion and extraction landing zones. Our insertion at dusk was relatively normal and uneventful. The AO was a hilly area in the central highlands with steep ridges, deep ravines and very dense jungle vegetation. By the third day we had set up just below the ridge line to observe a trail on the opposite hillside. We could only observe portions of the trail where there were breaks in the heavy vegetation. Later in the day we spotted movement and observed enemy personnel dressed in traditional NVA (North Vietnamese Army) gear, backpacks, sandals, pith helmets and AK-47 rifles. We immediately began counting the men as they passed through the breaks in the brush. Our count reached well over 100 and it was decided to call for artillery fire support.
Our artillery support base was located many kilometers (referred to as clicks) behind us. Their rounds were supposed to come over our ridge and across the ravine to reach the enemy. To avoid deadly errors, it is protocol in most circumstances to initially call for a marking round to make sure you have your fire mission coordinates correct. As the initial marking round came in, the enemy scattered with most of the group heading into the valley below. We immediately called in to adjust fire direction towards the area where the enemy had scattered. Our fire directions were to adjust the artillery fire 100 meters to the right. Instead, the artillery base adjusted in the wrong direction and dropped 100 meters short. High explosive rounds began landing at the top of our ridge and just over our position into the ravine below. The explosions were deafening and literally lifted us up off the ground. Other than our temporary loss of hearing, it was fortunate that none of us were wounded or killed. There is nothing like getting up close and personal with exploding artillery rounds. Needless to say, the enemy disappeared into the jungle below while we tried to come to grips with what had just happened. After we recovered, we called for the extraction of the team and met up with our chopper ride at one of the pre-designated extraction LZs (landing zones).
I can truly say that my first mission as a LRRP definitely reinforced the risks and dangers I could anticipate on other missions.
Incidents
As time went
by, I became more comfortable with my surroundings and my role within this small
special operations group. I developed a
strong camaraderie and trust with the guys, especially with my specific team
mates. The newly formed LRRP unit was a
new concept and rather unorthodox in its operations. Our activities, role and functions within our
military base were still being worked out and refined and, as such, often did
not meet standard army protocol. Our missions and mission requirements were
normally directed through our headquarters company and Army intelligence.
Like any
group or unit within the military, we believed we were special and established
a strong loyalty to our own. Our somewhat
lack of military discipline and appearance (tiger fatigues) was not readily
accepted by the traditional army units on base.
Due to our small size we depended upon other units for our
basic needs such as meals, getting a beer, supplies, mail, etc. They did not appreciate LRRPs invading their “space” and resented having to provide for us. Compounded by the fact that as a special unit we did not have to "contribute" to their
services such as providing KP duty, guard duty, latrine cleanup or other
meaningless tasks which definitely led us to develop a bit of a superiority complex resulting in a
number of confrontations with the regular troops. A few incidents come to mind. Although funny
at the time, they could have had serious consequences.
The first
involved eating dinner at the mess hall of the artillery group on base. I recall there were a number of us, some just
off a mission, coming to catch dinner before they closed up. We got our chow and grabbed some seats at the
long mess hall tables. Although as a group, we tend to get a bit rowdy, we pretty much kept to ourselves. Regardless, there were still the usual snide
comments you could hear around the room.
"What the f... are these LRRPs doing here", "These guys don't belong here",
"Go back where you came from", etc.
On this day,
although I don't recall the occasion, they were serving up steaks which to us
was quite a treat. At the next table
over, a couple of artillery guys, besides complaining about our presence, were also complaining about the food. One guy in
particular was quite vocal about his disdain for us and whining about his
steak. About this time, one of our guys
had just about enough! I knew he had
just come off a mission so his adrenaline was probably still quite high. He got up, walked over to the whiner, pulled
out his 45, stuck it in the man's face and told him to eat it. Needless to say the man complied without
another word. We didn't hear too many
snide remarks after that. The incident
happened very quickly and was apparently never reported. He was very fortunate that he didn't get into
major trouble for pulling that stunt.
One of the
few pleasures soldiers experience in a combat zone was the occasional
entertainment groups that performed for the troops. They were coordinated through our
government's USO group, the most popular being Bob Hope's Vietnam tour. However, having spent most of my tour in
highly volatile combat zones, I was never lucky enough to see one of the
premier USO shows since the risk would be too high for incoming performers. Once in a while small music groups did venture into the more remote base camps, usually from other countries like
Australia, Canada, Thailand or the Philippines.
Well, one occasion did present itself and word spread quickly throughout
the base camp. Of course, we weren't
about to miss such an opportunity and a group of us definitely planned to
attend.
The show was
to be held at the main "club" on base. It was a wooden structure that served as both
the officer's club and the NCO club. It
had two separate entrances, one for each group.
Inside, the room was divided by a 4 foot "pony wall" which ran
from the back of the room to the center of a small stage. Above the wall was a curtain that hung from
the ceiling which was normally drawn closed to separate the two
"clubs". Today the curtains
were pulled open all the way to the back so both groups could enjoy the
show. There were about seven of us that
decided to see the group perform. The
place was packed and, as usual, we were not well received. (It was probably because we always liked to
wear our "non-government issue" tiger fatigues just to piss them
off.) Regardless, we made our way in but
ended up at the back of the room as there was standing room only.
As I recall,
the group was from Australia. A typical
small band consisting of a couple of guitars, drums and keyboard. The band also
included a couple of attractive female singers.
This was a typical 60's band, bell bottoms and miniskirts. The music was great and everyone was having a
good time drinking and enjoying the show.
After entertaining us for a few hours or so, the women in the band asked
for a few volunteers to come up and dance with them. Surprisingly, the regular troops were too
busy nudging each other, daring each other to go up on stage with the typical
back and forth "you go" no "you go". Not letting such a sweet opportunity get
away, three of us jumped up on top of the pony wall and made our way to the
stage. I was the last of the three and I
remember the guy in front of me, I think his name was Dempsey, stepping on some
officer's hat that was left on the wall.
Of course we received a lot of booing and the yelling of "get those
damn LRRPs off the stage" from the line troops since we again invaded
their space.
Unfortunately, as luck would have it, while we were dancing and having a good time we had a
mortar attack on the base camp. Everyone
scattered to man their duty station and the band took shelter. We on the other hand, decided to stay there
and claimed seven empty chairs in the front of the room. We had hoped the band would resume the show
but they never did come back.
Memorable Mission Events
Over the following
months my team and I took part in a number of memorable missions. I recall operating under a number of colorful
call signs such as Dark Marauder, Slashing Talon, and Silent Avenger. After completing only a few missions, I was assigned the responsibility of being the
ATL (Assistant Team Leader.) Although I was certainly proud of the recognition and the LRRP
leadership's trust in me, it was a bit intimidating since I had only been in
country a relatively short time. It was
a huge responsibility and I took it very seriously... the life and safety of my team mates depended
on it. The plus side was that it put me
on the fast track to earn my NCO stripes quickly. Earning your "stripes" under combat
conditions or before the standard promotion cycle timeframe, normally
referred to as "blood stripes".
Each mission was unique depending on the AO (area of operation), type of
assignment, length of mission, type of weather, artillery and air support, etc.
Some were conducted without incident while
others were quite tense, raising the pucker level to new heights.
I won't go
into the boring mission protocol or repetitive details that everyone normally
writes about. Rather, I would like to share
some of the events that stood out during my time in country and seem to have
stayed in my memory over the last 50 plus years.
Leeches
One such
event involved my friend Bob Teagle. On
this mission we were somewhere in the Central Highlands. The terrain consisted of rolling hills with
some deep ravines, double canopy, mostly covered with heavy jungle
vegetation. Our insertion took place at
dusk at a predetermined LZ (landing zone) that was fairly level but covered
with tall elephant grass. Elephant grass can be quite deceiving from the air since it was difficult to actually determine how tall it was. This was the case
here. As the chopper hovered above the
grass, we exited our ride as we always do, 3 on each side all at the same time. Unfortunately, rather than being about three
feet jump to the ground as we expected, the exit was more like a ten foot
jump! Given our heavy backpacks,
ammunition and weapons we were all forced to roll as we hit the ground to
absorb the impact. Fortunately, no broken
arms or legs. The only casualty was
Bob's trousers which he ripped from knee to knee along the crotch. As is procedure, we quickly moved to the tree
line from the LZ while our bird headed back to base.
After we found a secure spot and assured the
team's safety, we learned of Bob's dilemma and all had quite the chuckle over it. The poor guy was basically dangling in the
breeze which is not a good situation with a seven day mission ahead of
you. Given the high temperature, high
humidity, lengthy missions and lack of hygiene you learn very quickly not to
wear unnecessary clothing. This is especially true of underwear, whether
boxers or otherwise. Humping through the jungle for multiple days, being wet, dry,
sweaty, hot, cold over and over again, one can develop a serious case of
chafing or infection wearing restrictive underwear. This was affectionately referred to as
"crotch rot" or "jungle rot". So the rule and standard practice was to go
"commando" on our missions. Unfortunately
we still had a dilemma on our hands.
Bob's lack of basic "protection" would leave him vulnerable to
both the harsh jungle vegetation as well as the myriad of creepy, crawling bugs
and small animals. Also, we certainly
couldn't abort the mission merely because of some torn pants! Fortunately,
since we all wore bandanas to wipe off the dirt, grime and sweat, we were able to use them to wrap Bob's pant
legs together as best we could.
The next few
days of the mission were uneventful. We
had some intermittent but heavy rain which made it wet and muddy and forward
movement was very slow. Climbing up the
hills was especially difficult, fighting the jungle vegetation and sliding a
step back for every two steps forward.
On this mission, Bob was walking point which was the job he actually
preferred. As we were struggling up one
of the hills Bob suddenly stopped. As we
all went on high alert expecting the worst, he threw his gun to the ground,
reached for his crotch, jumped up and down and cursed like crazy. "Son of a bitch, son of a
bitch"! Although he did so in a
whispered voice, he was freaking us out!
After we
were able to calm him down we found out what the problem was...a couple of leeches had attached themselves
to his scrotum and engorged themselves!
Full of blood they were the size of your pinkie finger but fortunately
not poisonous. Even though we squirted
the leeches with our mosquito repellant and they fell right off, we couldn't
help but have a good laugh over the incident. We continued the mission without
further incidents.
Of course,
when we got back to base we just had to share the story with the rest of our
team mates.
Our
"go to" guy
As I noted
before, my friend Kirk who joined the LRRPs when I did, was not able to complete the
training because he had broken his ankle.
While he was healing, it did not go unnoticed by those in command that
he had a unique talent of locating and finding much needed equipment and/or
supplies. In effect, he became the
"go to guy" for anything the unit needed.
I remember
when our unit had to relocate when the 1st Cavalry Division moved their base
camp from Ahn Khe to Camp Evans. As a small
new unit within the Division, we had very little in the way of equipment or
supplies and were lucky to be allocated an open area within the base camp
perimeter to set up our company headquarters. There were no structures as yet
so it was limited to government issued tents and sandbags for protection. Areas were designated and marked off with chalk
lines such as the TOC (tactical operations center), officers quarters and of
course our own sleeping areas. We were
instructed to mark off two-man areas that would accommodate two cots with about
two feet for separation. Each sleeping
area had to be dug down so the top of the cot was at least a foot below ground
level. This would minimize death or
injury in the event of a mortar attack.
The plan was to cover about ten or twelve of these sleeping areas with a
large military supply tent (GP Large).
Bob and I
decided to be "roomies" and share one of those sleep areas. As a group we weren't given much time to
complete the project so we were all ordered to start digging. It was hot and sweaty work but it had to be
done. Not being part of the teams yet,
Kirk was assigned to make his bunk in a different area, near our company supplies and equipment. During a brief break I decided to see how
Kirk was doing. He wasn't doing
anything! I found him kicking back and reading a book. I asked him why he wasn't digging because we
didn't have much time to get it done. He
just grinned at me and told me that he had it handled and not to worry. I said ok and went back to my digging. About ten minutes later, while we were all
digging, a Navy Seabee drove up on a
backhoe and said he was looking for Kirk.
Now I knew what he meant when he told me not to worry about it. As I pointed him in the right direction, I
smiled but all I could mutter was "that son of a bitch".
To this day
I still wonder if all the supplies, equipment and vehicles our unit "acquired"
were obtained through proper government channels. I have my doubts since I remember when a couple
of our guys hitched a chopper flight to Cam Ranh Bay, the main supply
depot where all the equipment and supplies came in from the States. Miraculously a few days later we had a couple
of new Jeeps and a 2 1/2 ton truck.
One day,
after I already had a number of missions under my belt, Kirk came to me and
asked me for a favor. Although he found
quite a niche being the "supply sergeant" for our unit, he
desperately wanted to go on at least one mission as a LRRP. This was quite a request since he had not
completed the required recon training to go on patrol. My first reaction was no but I finally gave
in, subject to our CO's approval. When I
asked my CO, he was apprehensive but approved it for one missions only. I distinctly remember him telling me,
"Bear, he's your responsibility and it's your ass if he screws up". I told Kirk that it was approved but that I
would be held fully responsible for him on the mission. Excited with the news he assured me that he
wouldn't let me down. He then rushed off saying he had to get prepared. A few
weeks passed before we were assigned a fairly standard mission on which Kirk
could go out with the team.
As the team
got ready for the mission I found out that Kirk had definitely
"prepared" for the mission. First,
since none of the bush hats really fit him, he decided to make his own. He got ahold of a felt cowboy hat somebody had and soaked it in water so it
lost all shape. He then tried to shape
it into some kind of bush hat but in reality ended up looking like the hat that
"Hoss Cartwright" wore in the old TV western series Bonanza. Secondly, he wanted to carry the M60 machine
gun on the mission instead of the standard issue M16 or CAR 15. I told him it was way over the top because it
was too heavy given the size of the weapon and the weight of the ammunition
that goes with it. Over my reluctance,
the team liked the idea and agreed to share the burden of carrying some of the
bandoleers of M60 ammo.
The team was
going to be inserted at dusk to conduct a basic reconnaissance operation. Simple.
We loaded up and headed out to our pre-designated LZ. The terrain consisted of moderate jungle
vegetation over some rolling hills with a few steep ridges and ravines. As we began our approach to a clearing, the terrain
didn't quite look right to me. Unfortunately,
as I went to speak to the pilot to make sure we were at the right location the
chopper was already slowing to a hover so the team could exit. It is normal protocol while exiting the
aircraft that the LRRP team looks to the ground to jump while the door gunners
check the area for any possible enemy presence.
Before the order was given to exit, one of the door gunners had prematurely
tapped one of my guys to jump. I was
still arguing with the pilot about the LZ but now we had one guy on the ground
with no way to bring him back on board.
We were about six feet off the ground which was the lowest he could
hover given the slope of the hill and the rotor blades overhead. Now being at the wrong LZ was no longer an
issue. I cursed at the pilot as I told
the rest of the team to exit the aircraft. Obviously this was not the right thing to do but at this point we were committed. Kirk knew I was pissed. In the heat of the moment and unbeknown to me, Kirk grabbed the gunner taking whim with us as we exited the
chopper. We hightailed it into the cover of the jungle
while the helicopter headed back to base.
It wasn't until after we had secured our perimeter did I realize we had
an extra "guest" with us.
Fortunately,
for the team's sake as well as that of the young gunner, the mission was
completed without incident. Although
quite frightened during the mission, I'm sure the gunner has shared this story
many times with others since the war.
It's not very often that a helicopter gunner gets to go on a
reconnaissance mission with a LRRP team deep into enemy territory.
When we got
back to base we knew we were in deep shit for pulling this stunt. We were read the riot act and threatened with
an Article 15 for what we did.
Fortunately our CO also saw some humor in it and let us go with a stern warning. Kirk was also glad because he could now say he had been on an actual LRRP mission.
The Village
Of all the
missions I've been on, one stands out as the most memorable. The mission began like any other with orders
to recon our area of operation and observe a specific village for enemy activities. Our insertion LZ was about 4 clicks from the
village so we still had a bit of a hike to get to the area. We inserted at dusk as we usually do so it would
be well into the night before we reached our destination. The night was unusually dark and overcast
with no visible moon or stars. Our
forward movement was therefore very slow as it was difficult to see more than a
few feet in front of us. Although a GPS like
we enjoy today would have definitely made life so much easier, back in 1968 all
we had was a compass to guide our way.
As we got
closer to our destination, the landscape changed from relatively dense jungle
to lighter vegetation. The terrain
smoothed out to rolling hills covered mostly with knee high grasses and an
occasional clump of bushes. When we finally reached the area of interest, we
needed to find some cover where we could hold up for the night. Not able to
effectively see the surrounding area very well, we had to use the starlight
scope. The starlight scope was a rather
large, bulky, single lens scope that allows you to see in the darkness of
night. This was well before the night
vision technology we have today. The image you see in the scope is like a green
negative. It allows you to see terrain
configurations and distinct shapes like trees, bushes and of course people.
As we looked
through the scope, we saw some large flat reflecting areas further down the
hill that we assumed to be water. We
knew the village was located near a body of water so we decided to find some temporary cover in a nearby clump
of bushes and find more suitable cover before first light. The rest of the night was uneventful but as
it became lighter we were surprised to discover that our assumption was
wrong. That "body of water"
turned out to be a bunch of rice paddies and not a lake at all! This caused quite a concern which added to
the fact that it was almost daylight and we were on the knoll of a hill with no
immediate cover nearby. Other than the small
clump of bushes we were in, we were totally exposed. As we quickly looked around, the nearest
thing to provide any cover was a small grave enclosure about 50 yards from our
location.
Local custom
is to bury the deceased in a shallow grave covered with a dirt mound where the
body is. This is surrounded by a two foot
stone or cement wall with a three by three foot section of wall where the
headstone would normally be. The whole
enclose was about 6 feet by 10 feet in size. We quickly made our way to the
enclosure, climbed in and did our best to stay below the wall height. Fortunately our location did allow us to
observe the village which was about a thousand yards down the hill from
us. It wasn't a real good position for
the team to be in but defensively it was the best under the circumstances.
Although we
were quite concerned about the lack of adequate cover in our little walled
enclosure, there was no other cover close by.
As such, we decided to stay where we were and kept an extra close eye on
our overall surroundings. It wasn't long
before the morning activities began with
the villagers going about their usual daily activities like tending to
the rice fields around the village. On one side of the village there was also an
abandoned railway, part of which spanned over a small gulley. Although we couldn't observe all activities within
the village from our location, we were able to clearly observe any movement in
and out of the village.
It wasn't
long before we saw a young boy, about 12 or so, come out of the village herding
three domestic water buffaloes. It was
clear that he was taking them to graze on the hillside but the problem was he
was coming in our direction! As a LRRP
team our mandate is to remain undetected and it would definitely be a problem if
we were compromised. Our discovery could
put us in serious danger and we would be forced to abort the mission. This is especially true since this village was
known for supporting various enemy activities.
As the boy
got closer to our position we had a decision to make. Although authorized to use whatever means to
avoid detection, no one was ready to take out a 12 year old child. Thankfully we came up with a workable
solution before it was too late. Having
an M79 grenade launcher with us, we decided to lob a few grenades in his
general direction but far enough away so not to causing him injury. As we hoped, he assumed an artillery attack
and immediately turned and ran back to the village. We were all relieved and thankful we were
able to avoid the terrible alternative.
After that
incident which affected all our emotions, the rest of the day was fairly
uneventful. As the night drew near
however, we observed movement in the gulley by the railroad trestle. There were about six armed men with backpacks
moving from the village down into the valley away from the village. After observing their direction of travel we
called in our sightings and were instructed to call in artillery fire on their
position. The next day was fairly quiet
but at dusk we observed movement again.
This time there were about a dozen men with AK47 rifles and backpacks
moving along the gulley away from the village.
We again called in artillery fire as required.
Although we
were now quite concerned about being compromised given recent activities, our
orders were to continue our observation another two days. Fortunately the next morning was quiet so I boiled
some water with C4 and fixed myself a cup of coffee. Not having too much room within our walled
enclosure, I leaned over against the headstone which was a little taller than
the rest of the walls. Within minutes we
heard the rotor blades of an approaching helicopter. For our own safety, each team member carries
a bright orange piece of cloth to flash to any overhead helicopter so it
wouldn't mistake us for the enemy. With the
approaching Huey gunship, we quickly spread the orange banners in the middle of
our enclosure. As the chopper got closer
I actually gave it a quick wave. As I
did, the door gunner decided to open fire with his M60 machine gun. The bullets hit around us and also off the
headstone where I was sitting! I dropped
my coffee as we all crawled for non-existent cover within our little enclosure. As the chopper made a sweeping turn for
another pass, our commo guy frantically called
home base. The rest of the team took
cover as best they could and prepared to fire back, including the M79 grenade
launcher. We were ready to blow the
chopper out of the sky! As he came in
for another run, he must have gotten the message from base because he veered off
at the last second and left. We were all
in shock as to what just happened.
By now we
were all convinced that we have stretched our luck about as far as it can
go. We decided that if there was repeat
enemy movement that night we would call for the extraction of the team. We didn't have to wait too long. Late in the afternoon we observed an even
larger group of enemy soldiers congregate near the railroad trestle. It was decided to call in a Cobra gunship instead
of artillery. The Cobra arrived on scene
along with a bubbletop whirlybird. We
were in communication with the whirlybird who hovered near our location. He asked us where the enemy had scattered to
so we pointed him in the right direction.
He flew towards the trestle, dropped smoke for a marker and veered away. The Cobra, who had been hovering high above
us, dropped its nose and launched its rockets from each pod located under the
small wings on each side of the helicopter.
The trestle and the surrounding area went up in a huge explosion. We then heard the Cobra ask the whirlybird
what he wanted done with the remainder of his rockets. He was told to open on the village, which he
did. At this point we called for an
immediate extraction.
We got back
to base without issue and happy to be safe for a while. The next evening a few of us were playing
poker when one of the other guys came over and asked if we were the ones out by
the village. He informed us that our
command had sent in a company of regular line troops to check the village and
that they encountered a half battalion of NVA (North Vietnamese Army) there! I can imagine what would have happened to us
if they had sent a scouting party up the hill and found us!
Jungle Creatures
During my tour I encountered a number of jungle
creatures normally not found in suburban America. I'll share with you some of the more
interesting ones.
Mosquitoes
- Vietnam, like the tropics, is a
perfect breeding ground for
mosquitoes. It rains constantly,
especially during the monsoon season, resulting in many areas of standing
water. Combined with high temperatures
and high humidity, mosquitoes thrive.
Our reconnaissance missions were normally 5 to 7
days in duration. While on patrol we moved through all types of terrain
including heavy jungle vegetation and waist deep swamps. We were dirty and sweaty and our clothes were normally soaked. When our clothes dried they were covered with a salt residue from our perspiration. Our only defense against the mosquito was the mosquito repellent we were
issued. Even the camouflage we used on
our face, neck and hands didn't help much..
When you tried to sleep they would
buzz around your ears and occasionally even try to get inside. It was
not pleasant.
On many occasions our missions required us to stay
in one location for an extended time to observe and report possible enemy
movement and activities. Although this gave us many hours of quiet time and self- reflection, unfortunately it also
resulted in obvious boredom. One quiet "game"
I recall playing with my teammates was to bet on who could have the most mosquitoes on their arms during a 60 second
period! It sounded fun at the time, but
definitely not a smart thing to do given the possible risk of malaria.
Spiders
- I don't know how many species of spiders there are in Vietnam but I do know
there are many. During one of the
missions, I was walking point. It was an
unusually dark night, overcast with the occasional glimpse of the moon peeking
between the clouds. It made it difficult
to see ahead by more than a few
yards. Even with our eyes having
adjusted to the night, it was difficult to move quietly through the jungle
vegetation. The vines seemed to grab you
with every step and the thorns and sharp edges on the brush cut at your
skin. Forward movement was extremely
slow. What a night to walk point!
As I slowly moved forward I could make out a couple
of small trees ahead of me. They were
about four feet apart, so I thought nothing about walking between them. When I
got closer, I happened to see the shrouded image of the moon between the
trees. As I approached the two trees,
whether it was a gut feeling or cautious apprehension, something made me stop just
as I was about to walk through them. With
that we all stopped and took a moment to listen to the jungle and visually
check the immediate area as best we could.
When I motioned to the team we were moving again, I
happened to glance at the moon one more time before I stepped between the
trees. Thank God for the moon because there,
less than a foot from my face, I saw the outline of one of the biggest spiders
I had ever seen! It was sitting in the
center of its web which spanned between the two trees. I remember it was huge and definitely
intimidating! It was about the size of a
man's hand and I would have walked into it face first! I have no idea if it was poisonous nor did I
want to find out. Fortunately, we left
the area without incident, but it is definitely something I remember.
Snakes - There are two stories I want to share about
snakes that have stuck with me to this day.
No one was injured during these incidents, but they were tense and scary
all the same.
It was probably my third or fourth LRRP mission out.
Normally when the team beds down for the evening we try to sleep in a
cartwheel, backpacks in the center with our feet out. We maintained security by always having at
least one guy awake at all times. Security
duty was shared and rotated every 30 minutes, so it was possible for each
member to get a couple of hours of sleep before it was his turn again. It
didn't really allow for any deep sleep and after a few days it certainly added
to our overall fatigue factor.
During one of these sleep moments, while laying on
my side, I felt a movement in the small of my back that woke me up. Under the
circumstances I knew enough not to make any noise or sudden moves. All I could do was lay there quietly and try
to figure out what it might be. As I
laid there contemplating my fate, I felt it move up and over my waist. I distinctly remember that it felt quite
heavy and from the movement over my waist I concluded it was some type of
snake, a very big snake. I laid there motionless as it seemed like it took forever
to pass over my body. Even after I no
longer felt any movement, I probably laid there for another 15 minutes before I
dared to sit up. Later I questioned my teammates but no one saw anything.
Although it could have been something I imagined, to this day I firmly believe
it was a real-life experience.
The other incident with a snake was also scary but
much more intense. As a LRRP team, we
often used indigenous personnel as scouts, preferably the local tribes of
people that lived in the central highlands of Vietnam known as Montagnards (we
affectionately referred to them as Yards).
They were an independent group of people and were loyal and fierce
soldiers. We developed a strong and
trusting bond with these men. On
occasion, when there were no Yards available we would be assigned a different
indigenous scout. They could be a local
soldier from the South Vietnamese army or even a "reformed" Viet Cong
soldier that had been turned. A turned
Viet Cong soldier is referred to as a Kit Carson scout. Of course, we were always skeptical whenever
we were assigned a Kit Carson scout.
Were they trustworthy? Could they
lead us into a trap? Were they really
turned? Could they run out on us? All
valid questions.
As luck would have it, on one of our missions we were assigned a Kit Carson scout. While on mission, all appeared fine, but we all remained guarded with this new man on our team. After a few days out, we had stopped for a break and to grab a bite to eat. It was a small clearing in the brush, and we all sat in a small circle facing each other. Since the mission had been uneventful thus far, we were all fairly at ease. It was during that moment when I saw our scout jump up, grab his machete from his backpack and lunge at our communications guy. No one was able to react in time to stop him, it was over in a matter of seconds.
As we sat in awe with our guns
trained on our scout we noticed that the blade had struck the tree about a foot
above our team mate's head and had decapitated a small yellow green snake that
was about to strike. We all breathed a sigh of relief and felt immensely better
about our scout. The snake was a bamboo
viper, one of the many types of pit vipers prevalent in Vietnam. The locals
have a name for the snake which translates into the "two step
snake". In other words, after one
bite in two steps you're dead!
Neighborhood Rivalry
Depending on size, a military base camp in a combat
zone can house a number of combat and combat support units. When I first arrived in Vietnam around
October 1967 the base camp for the 1st Cavalry Division was Camp Radcliff at An
Khe in the central highlands. In early
January 1968 the whole division moved north to Camp Evans near the city of Hue.
As a newly formed special operations
group, we had very little choice in base camp real estate and ended up with the
leftovers which was a small area near the camp's outer perimeter. I was a bare piece of land, so we had to get
quite creative to make it a livable and functional facility for LRRP
operations. This included digging a
number of 10'x10'x3' deep sleeping areas which we then covered with a large
military tent and to build a tactical operations center (TOC) to manage and
direct LRRP team operations in the field.
Other basic needs such as a latrine, showers and mess halls we
"shared" with, or rather imposed on, other units, often over their
objections and obvious reluctance. Other
than the limited power available to operate the TOC, we had no other power access. Living by flashlight or candle light, every
evening got old very quick.
As luck would have it, our neighbor across the road
was a small MP (military police) detachment.
Unfortunately, being a more structured and authoritarian unit, it wasn't
long before relations with our MP neighbors became a bit strained. Their strict,
by-the-book ways were in direct conflict with our more unorthodox and somewhat rebellious
ways of doing things. This carried through to Lurp, a stray dog we had adopted
as our mascot. He loved hanging around
with the guys and didn't take kindly to strangers coming to our area. One of his favorite past times was to go over
to the MP area and antagonize their dog.
We always thought it was funny, but they got so upset about it that they
formally complained to our CO (commanding officer) about Lurp's activities. Our CO also got a kick out of it and quickly
dismissed the issue as very petty.
Following Lurp's lead of harrasing the MPs, we decided to improve our
own non-existent power conditions by tapping into the MP power grid. Covert operations were what we were trained
to do! After some minimal planning, we
conducted a stealth night operation where we dug a small trench from our
company area to theirs and tapped into their generator. Unfortunately, our success was short
lived. The increased power use kept
tripping their circuit breakers, so it wasn't long before our little scheme was
discovered. We were forced to go to Plan
B.
After some collective thought, our Plan B was to
"requisition" our own generator.
Normal channels would be difficult at best. We knew that the normal
requisition process would take too long and most likely be rejected since LRRP
detachments were yet to be formally recognized as a credible, functional
unit. After further discreet investigations
and discreetly checking various staging areas around the base we hit pay
dirt. We found a generator, still
wrapped up and crated.
Our next step was to figure out the best way to gain
possession of our "prize. Although
the darkness of night was always our best ally, we decided the best way would
be to "hide in plain sight".
We generated a bogus requisition order for some generic vehicle parts
and headed to the supply depot in our "deucenhalf", a 2 1/2 ton military
truck. The depot is a large staging area
for all the supplies, vehicles, equipment, replacement parts, etc. that the
base needs. Although we were directed to drive to the area where our vehicle
parts were located, we found ourselves conveniently stopping at the area where
the generator was stored. Our prize was quickly loaded on the truck and we made
it back to our company area without incident.
Unfortunately our excitement was also short
lived. The next morning every unit
within the base camp was notified that the commanding general's generator was
stolen, that a unit-by-unit search would be initiated, and that the parties
responsible would be facing a court-martial. A unit search was not good news for
us since some of our vehicles, including the deucenhalf, were also obtained
through questionable means. Expecting our
unit to be a priority on their list for searches, we quickly moved the
generator to the sandbag point (a neutral location) and hid it under a mound of
sandbags. Fortunately, we were never caught but regreted not having a chance to
enjoy its benefits.
Coming Soon:
*Medical Evacuation
*Last Day in country 
My friend Kirk did not fare so well as he broke his ankle during one of the training exercises. He had to drop out of the class and planned to finish training at a later time. After completing our training all the new guys were then assigned to a LRRP team. The team I was assigned to was a relatively seasoned group of guys headed up by an E6, John Barnes.
