               |
RANDOM MEMORIES
History of the 12th Cav in Vietnam 27 Jul 1968
– 30 Nov 1971 CPT Errol D.
Alexander, July-Oct 1968
From: Wally Mendoza Sensory Overload
Semper Paratus, J.T. Tillman Right, most everybody says diesel fuel, right down wind from the latrines, I can still smell it, sounds, i live right close to disneyworld, they shoot off fireworks three and four times a night, right across I/4 theres a tourist helocopter ride,flies over the house all frigging day put those two together and its flashback city,Nam was queiter than this place,I gota move out of this place..TUNES Steppinwolf,Doors etc, i wish they had CDs back then......Duke When I first came home, any time I saw shrubbery, I wanted to take a piss! That was one habit I had to put on the shelf ASAP. If a fighter jet streaked overhead, (we have a lot of military flights here in Honolulu) I would duck my head and raise my shoulders involuntarily because, damn, jet noise moving fast overhead sounds just like Incoming to me. Worse, remember that certain odor that large army tents gave off? That wet dog/sharp cheese smell? Running into that smell would give me a sense of deja vu. Speaking of which, a bunch of years ago, my wife asked me, after watching yet another T.V. show where a deranged Vietnam vet was running amok, "how come you don't have flashbacks?" I don't know, I said, "maybe not enough time has passed, or something." I feel very cheated. I would love a flashback! You know, I would suddenly think I was back riding in the grenadier's seat behind the driver yelling at him to concentrate on staying precisely in the track of the PC in front of us. It would be like a movie or something. I should carry popcorn in my pockets just in case a flashback happens. I actually do have a recurring nightmare; it has nothing to do with anything I experienced in Vietnam. This is true, I have this dream every few years or so, that I'm back in the service. Somehow, I get reactivated or something, and I'm back in the 2nd Armored Division in Killeen, Texas. Yikes! That was an experience that gave me more trauma than anything that happened to me in the Nam. While assigned there, my talent for avoiding details or army work was stretched to the limit! You can't imagine how stressful it was to hang out at the snack bar, bowling alley, or gymnasium day in and day out and not arouse the suspicion of anyone who outranked me. But then, I was just a humble draftee, who was drafted out of college because he dared to protest the war, that didn't want to be there in the first place. Looking back, though, the only thing that was worth anything during my service in the Army was my time in the field in Vietnam. Though I hated it with all my heart, I loved it with all my heart too. I never felt = freer and more competent in my life! It was a gas riding around the DMZ, armed to the teeth with "In-da-gadda-da-vida" playing on the eight-track hooked up to the battery. We were ready to bring it down on anyone who tried to fuck with us! I mean we bristled with 90mm cannon, grenade launchers, M-16's, co-ax's, 50 cal machine guns, M-60 MG's, and murderous intent. It was great to be in combat arms. And remember, when we went on R&R, that we discovered that combat soldiers were a rare breed? I didn't run into very many of us while waiting for a flight out in Danang! There was just REMF's. HA! Those bastards were busy shooting smack and making up war stories so they could feel as if they had balls. We have all kinds of veteran plates here in Hawaii. We have several distinctions: Veteran, Combat Wounded, Vietnam Veteran, and Combat Veteran. I chose the Combat Veteran plate. There are hardly any of those plates around. Pineapple Struggling to Recall
Wally Mendoza Yea I remember him, I don't know his name he was a green beret, very young. He had been at ft. Lewis with me while we were waiting to get shipped out to the nam... Never saw him again until one day at the dmz he and tow other guys of his lrp team came up to our tracks and asked for a beer. He told us they were the guys that had ambushed the two gooks that we had found dead there where they were. The shithouse incident is funny because up until now i always thought it was a guy named lee that had done it. I was sitting arround with the mechanics, writting a letter home when the frag went off. Sgt petersen (motor pool sgt.) Inmediately blamed lee because he had it out for him. Nothing was made of it. That ranger you are talking about was working the radio right arround the time i came home. Wally Do any of you remember the evening that we were setting up on a hill top in the "Backyard" southwest of Quang Tri, putting out concertina, RPG screens, trip flares, claymores, Etc, when the Troop CO and the artillery FO were standing on top of the command track. All the guys were busy doing the things that had to be done every night. No one was paying any attention to the two officers who were standing on top of the M-113. All of a sudden there was the sound of a howitzer firing at Quang Tri, and the familiar sound of an artillery round approaching. The whistling of the round got louder and louder. Soon it was obvious that it was coming right toward us, and everyone started looking around. Then came the *BANGeeeeeee* sound of a 155 mm white phosphorous round popping 50 meters directly over our heads. I can't remember which one it was, the CO or the FO, but one of them stabbed his finger toward the map and said, "see, I told you this is the hill we are on!" Everyone else in the troop just rolled their eyes, shrugged their shoulders and went back to work -- Ñmumbling about what crazy mother f#@kers we had running the Army. Jim Good 3rd Plt Tanker I remember that happening. The FO was a guy name Lt Malm. He used to ride on 26 a lot. Had it made. Played a lot of pinnacle. Carried a sand wedge and some shags, called in a little artillary. Basically enjoying the war. Not a bad sort. Bob was that Sgt in the riverbed with you Sgt Bochelle. He was a second tour guy. First tour with the marines. John John Saw your name and I cannot place you. I was with 2d platoon from Aug 68 til Aug 69. I was the loader/gunner on A28. My TC's were SGT Anderson, SSG Hagland, SSG Makela, and SGT Reed. Hagland only lasted a few weeks, he really got messed up when we took a RPG in Cam Lo. That was in Mar 69. I wrote dinycat about a few of the people and we especially remembered a kid nicknamed Judd. He was different. Write when you get a chance. Glenn Bowers Glenn, saw your sitrep about the RPG around Cam Lo in March 69. Think I was the Lt., 3rd platoon, involved in that ambush. Were you on the lead tank, attached to my platoon, and was it North West of Cam Lo when we were packing a platoon plus of infantry on our tracks to get them down to the valley, closer to the action? As for the rest of you guys that came later, it is fascinating to read your comments and share your experiences. I transferred to the 11th ACR I think in April, 69 before the trip home July 1. W. McShane Everyone knows that Viet Nam is in the tropics, and I expected it to be hot there. In the summer it was. Hot with a vengeance! There were times that I remember that it was just unbearable, god awful hot. One night sticks out in my memory when 3rd Plt was operating alone out by the old, deserted Fire Base Pedro. We were completely out of insect repellant. No one had any, and the supply sergeant couldn't get any more for a while. On this particular night it must have still been 100¡F at midnight, and there were a zillion mosquitoes buzzing around our laager position. The only way I could keep the mosquitoes off was by zipping up my sleeping bag all the way. After about a half hour I was soaking with sweat, so I unzipped the sleeping bag. After a half hour with the bag open I was so eaten up by mosquitoes that I zipped it up all the way again. A half hour later, soaked in sweat I unzipped it again. Repeated the zip and unzip drill all night. I swore to myself that night if I survived Viet Nam, I would NEVER go camping again. I've pretty much kept that promise except for a few understandable occasions when really cute girls wanted to go camping when I was still in my 20s. Even worse than the heat was the rain. For long periods it seems like we were never really dry. At least the Sheridan exhaust made a good clothes dryer for our sleeping bags. You could start the engine, zip up your fart sack, and put the face opening over the exhaust stack. In just about 15 or 20 minutes the sleeping bag was dry. Made the sleeping bag smell like diesel exhaust, but at least it was dry. I remember one night when we were operating near that old S.F. base in the hills about 5 or 10 miles southwest of Cam Lo when it had been raining all day, and most of the night. The guy on radio watch from midnight to 2:00 AM woke me for my shift. At that time the rain had ended, and the stars were starting to show through as the clouds left the area. I was soaked, and my sleeping bag was soaked. I started the engine, and put my sleeping bag over the exhaust and began my 2 hours of radio watch. At 4:00 AM my shift ended, so I woke up the next guy, and took my nice dry sleeping bag back to the sleeping hole. Even though it had quit raining a few hours earlier, there wasn't a dry spot within 10 miles. The 3/5 Cav from Dong Ha had been in contact somewhere not too far away recently, and I didn't really feel like sleeping on top of the tank in case anything happened, so I tossed my sleeping bag back into the sleeping hole and crawled back in. Before I fell asleep the bottom of the sleeping bag had soaked through again, and I was back in my cold wet bed. The things we did when we were young; I'd hate to do that again! Jim Good 3rd Plt Tanker There were a few occasions when cold milk was delivered to the boonies....Sooo good. Also I remember us getting cartons and cartons and cartons of cigarettes: Kents !! Hell you'd throw them out to the kids and they'd throw 'em back of you !! A carton of Salem could get ya the kid's sister for a week's worth of boom-boom, but Kents would get ya fragged by a 9 year old. And, fellas, please help me confirm to my son that there was a place known as the Phu Bai Steam and Cream !! That's one part of my "Nam Saga" he just can't believe !! Peace 44 Mike The interesting thing about the chow at Cua Viet was that while it was prepared by the navy stewards, it was the same rations that came out of the army at Quang Tri. Zero Cooper, Do you remember the first day Lt. Stiles was in the field with us and I cooked STEEL POT (helmet, C-Ration) STEW? I always used Larry Veatch's helmet. The straps were burnt off and it was black from cooking with C-4. Everyone that was going to eat brought the c-ration they wanted to put in it. I had ketchup, salt, black pepper and ARMY HOT SAUCE that we had stolen from the mess hall to put in it. Well, I cooked it and we filled Lt. Stiles c-ration can half full of hot sauce and the rest with stew. As he was eating, his face turned blood red and he began to sweat. The sweat dripped off his nose and chin, but he never complained or said a word. As we began to finish our meal, we started to chuckle and laugh. Lt. Stiles said, "I knew you all were up to something!" We told him that any man that could eat anything that HOT must be a tough man!! And I think we did this to Lt. Canda also, not sure. Duffy Staying Alive! I used to love the pound cakes that came in the C's I would take the cream and sugar packets that were for coffee and add a little water and make icing for my pound cake. Wasn't like mom made but it worked. heehee MD Is it amazing what Troopers will do? We used to take that so called white bread, cheese and beef spiced with sauce and make pizza well kind of. BEEF WITH SPICE SAUCE was my favorite C' food, I traded a lot of beanies with weenies for it. MD MD, The next best thing was to top the Pound Cake with the Apple Sauce or Peaches. 30 I got to the Cav in December 1969, about 2 or 3 months before we got the Sheridans. I'd gone to the 4 week Sheridan school at Ft. Knox after AIT, so I was looking forward to them. The Sheridans had good & bad points in comparison to the M-48. They were new, and required less maintenance, and the track and suspension items were MUCH lighter, so maintenance was easier. They rarely threw a track. It could happen, but they threw far fewer tracks than the M-48s. They were faster, and the 152MM main gun had a bodacious canister round. The HEAT rounds we used at first had a fairly high dud rate, but then they started issuing 152MM HE rounds which were very reliable, and which packed a very good punch. The coax & 50 Cal worked well on them. Bad points included a lack of storage space. They had an extended bustle rack, but still far less room for ammo, food, personal gear, Etc than on the M-48. I suppose the biggest drawback was when they hit a mine. The M-48s could get one or two sets of road wheels blown off by a mine, and a few days later they were back in service with probably no one injured. When a Sheridan hit a mine, someone usually got hurt. Not killed, but hurt bad enough for a medivac. The Sheridan was probably a combat loss from anything larger than an antipersonnel mine. Most of the anti-tank mines, and booby-trapped artillery shells, which is what we most commonly hit, would warp the hull, or cause other irreparable damage. For a while we joked that we didn't ever have to do a Q Service or an S Service to the Sheridans, because we were hitting mines, and DXing the vehicles before they needed an oil change. Also, the Sheridans had fairly complex electronic and hydraulic systems. Some of the technology was not quite up to speed, and we had a lot of turret problems, and a fair amount of power train and mechanical problems. They just weren't all that reliable. In a way I liked the Sheridans better than the M-48s because they were easier to work on, and lighter, and faster, but they weren't perfect. Jim Good 3rd platoon Tanker, 69-70 Viet Nam was bad for Sheridans. The wet climate and heat screwed over the electrical systems badly. Poor Malan used to sit their waiting and trying to get that ready light! The M73 or M2l9 after many modifications never worked right after 10 years of trying the Army finally scrapped it. Our Sheridans in Nam wore the teeth right off the sprockets in just a short time from the sand. When we cooked on the back decks with C-4 it caused the deck plates to buckle and you couldn't traverse the turret. They swam like a rock with the belly armor on them and although we didn't try it I don't think they dropped too well from aircraft. They were fast when they ran, but flew too damn high when they hit a mine. SFC Barrows First platoon 69-70 The COAX on 26 never worked worth a shit. Though the canister was awesome, reloading was a hassle. I did like playing with the gyro, but it was no M-48 John 26G I seem to recall the M 48 weighed about 52 tons and the Sheridan 22 tons. 26 managed toe hit four mines during my time on it. They just replaced the two Sheridans. With a lot of work, the 48 (King Kong II) was back at it in 48 hours. The second mine we hit with the 48 was a small miracle. Sgt D decided to take a bunch of kids for a ride north of the river at Cua Viet. I think Mike Deierling was driving. All that went of was the blasting cap. A real blessing for those kids. John WHITEY I did not care for the Sheridans, they had to much big gun for their weight, every time you shot it the first 3 sets of road wheels would come off the ground and you landed in a different position, plus they were aluminum and had thin bottoms etc,etc. not good for mines, rpg's etc. too me they were junk compared to the 48's. MD Bob, Skee here. We must have had aiming stakes and plotting board on 39 - I remember we used it twice in the 12 mo. I was there. Also had a base plate so we could ground mount that puppy - which we did once at Cua Viet. I have no idea how many rounds we carried - just kept the racks full. We did carry Willy Pete on our track - always figured if we took an RPG it wouldn't matter if the little pieces of us burned on the way down or not. Don't know if you guys did this or not, but we always did our best to level the track so we could spin the tube and keep close to the same range all 360. Anything from digging holes for a track to driving part of it up on empty ammo crates - whatever it took to level her. Yes, we usually fired on "O" or "cheese" charge, which meant 9 little bags of powder, came off each round. We usually thru them in an empty tube case and touched it off periodically - kinda fun. At night we'd always have some illume w/ timers & charges set and safeties pulled. Pretty much the same w/ a few HE. Put the pins back in in the morning and re-canned them for the ride. I have a few good pics I'll try to dig out and send you. Skee Jim, I noticed your note regarding the OV-10's. If memory serves, and these days that's a questionable concept, these planes were Beech Aircraft products.....and the only thing I remember for certain is.....these guys were the last people on the planet ya' wanted to piss off. I recall one day, 2nd platoon had just started to pull what was suppose to be a 12 hr. stand down when I got a call from 6 (I forget his name) telling me to take whatever tracks were "up" and thunder-run to a place about 3 clicks away from where we were(Nancy, I think, but I'm not sure) where some gooks were trapped and we were suppose to form a blocking action to first, keep them from escaping and secondly, blow the shit out of 'em and thirdly, sweep the area to find if there was anything left..... after we had finished number two. We took a position up on a ridge line....and 1st or 3rd platoon, maybe both (again, I can't remember) moved in on higher ground than we had and together we kept the little mofo's from going anywhere.....I'll never forget that day....it was the first time I'd seen an OV-10 and the first time I'd seen those guys work, up close. "Barkey" was throwing in willie peter, and after each pass would climb out of the area, smartly....then, what happened next, I thought was amazing.....maybe 30 seconds later (just enough time for the him to clear) in came a Fox-4 Phantom from out of nowhere dropping napalm.....and no sooner had he dropped his ordinance, here came his buddy......seems like they strafed the target only a couple of times when the FAC came back in to take a look, and in doing so drew some ..51cal. tracer fire. Then, if I remember correctly, all hell broke loose......the first Phantoms were replaced by two more.....and then those guys brought two more of their buddies with fresh ordinance.......I remember looking up trying to count how many F-4's I could see and it was just one huge circle they were flying......by the time they were finished there was literally nothing left.....I remember monitoring the FAC's "push" and hearing when they had pulled off the target. Six told me to go inspect the target so several of us went down into the area. There wasn't anything bigger than a toothpick and the stench was unbelievable. Bolt 20ÑOut Ya' All, The only OV-10 I remember is Cat thriller 33, He would lead us around by the nose and show us spider holes to investigate. And when we had a promblem he would bring up the fast movers from Da Nang and help us out. I would thank him/her for the protection he/she gave us. Great job! Sgt D Sgt D, It appears that the "Cat Killers" were an Army observation aircraft outfit flying O-1 Bird Dogs out of Dong Ha. Single engine, tailwheel, low & slow airplanes. The "Barkey" FACs were USAF blue suit types in the OV-10 twin-engine turboprop observation planes, operating out of Quang Tri. Both had a direct line to god for directing pee & scunion [sic] upon the bad guys. Check out the following link for a story about the Cat Killers in the Dong Ha / Quang Tri area in 1970. http://www.amarillo2000.com/audacia/what-68.html Jim Good From Dennis Perrino (Zero): Miami Herald article written on 25 Feb 1990:
|
Photo
The PX barbershop at Quang Tri Combat Base is shown behind two cav troopers,
Chuck Lea and Carter Fuller. Though just another of the standard plywood buildings
that were found all over bases in Viet Nam, the shop sported a traditional striped
barber's pole out front. In addition to a good haircut, the scalp, neck, and
shoulder massage was relaxing. The popping of finger joints by the barbers usually
came as a surprise to new troops at the end of their first haircut. All in all,
a pleasant experience.
(Jim Good)
I remember a time out round Con Thien or around there somewhere on a NDP one
night we had our one of our claymores stolen and in its place was left a piece
of paper with a poem on it about some river up north somewhere, it goes without
saying after that we became a lot more proficient in our own booby traps making
and for awhile there we would get one of those little sneaks in the middle of
the night. Do you remember what tank that got all cleaned up and painted so
nice? It was for some visiting senator or something i can't remember' hell I
can't hardly remember my own name sometimes. Later.
Duke
Does anyone remember when the troop was operating around an abandoned LZ called
Angel (I think that was the name) somewhere up near Charlie 2 in late 1969 or
early 1970? One day the company dropped off around 8 of us from each platoon
to form 3 separate night ambushes. The rest of the troop then went back to wherever
and was going to pick us up the next day. I was with the second platoon and
carrying a M79. Our Sgt. was one that we called Paul Revere because he always
wore a patriot style hat. I can't remember his real name. Anyway we formed the
ambushes and had rendezvous locations in case we engaged and had to leave quickly.
I remember that the second platoon was just off a well-used trail. Our claymores
were placed real close to us. Luckily no one came by that night and we all hooked
back up the next day and waited for the troop to pick us up in the afternoon.
It was one scary night to be that far from our friends with the ACAVs and tanks.
Bob Taylor
Ya Bob, seems REAL familiar...but I went on what seems like a lot of ambushes...some
were really scary, hell they ALL were scary. Just real lucky they were mostly
all just 'camp outs'!!!!!!!!!! I remember we did blow the claymores one night
when we heard voices moving into the kill zone and laid there the rest of the
night scared shitless until we could get back into the womb in the AM.
Bob Rebbec
John, I remember the night well. I can't remember if I was on the mortar track
or another scout track. The mortar track didn't run most of the time. I remember
that it was a bad ass place to be after dark. I think that we all hit a mine
or two. I was on the Passion Wagon, I think 23, when me Scotty and Dierling
hit a mine near Rocket Ridge. We had our scrawny mustaches burned up, but no
injuries. That was in July of 1969, one month after I got in country. Because
we were short on APC's, I rode on a tank for awhile. I believe it was 26. APC's
don't fair well when the mine hits. It sounds like we are going to have a bigger
reunion this year! I joined the Society of the Fifth Division and read the article
from the chopper pilot but didn't connect it with Wally. I also received the
M48 and a ACAV model. It was interesting hearing the story of Capt. Spruill
and the War Lord.
Bob Taylor
If I remember correctly, Taylor was a guy who liked to look good all the time.
One time comes to mind, the Troop had left Nancy for a short mission and we
took just the basic load of water, clothes and etc. While the short mission
turned into six weeks or so. During this time we had to conserve everything
including water. So here we are out in the middle of nowhere and had been there
for eternity plus a day and our clothes were so caked with dirt they would stand
up by themselves. Anyway during this time we had stopped for a break everyone
is exhausted so we are just lying around I look up and Taylor is taking his
water and washing his hair. Talk about surreal sights; but that was Taylor looking
good at time and any place.
Coop
Mine (I would assume - and we all know what assume spells - 1st platoon)first
time took place up on the DMZ, we had been doing a sweep all morning. We took
a lunch break, all the tracks were spread out in a line. I was sitting out on
the right front fender of A16, McNeil and Willie P were up top and Troy was
in the drivers hatch. What followed seem to happen in slow motion (but it took
place in seconds) out front and to the right of the tank the ground started
erupting (incoming mortar rounds) McNeil yells incoming about the same time,
being wet behind the ears I was amazed by it all. The next moment it's assholes
and elbows, with c-rats flying through the air. Being the gunner I had to get
in fast so the rest could get in; while this is going on Troy has the Tank going
backwards. The grass was so tall unless you were in the TC hatch you could not
see shit. The next thing you know we have back off into an old B52 bomb crater,
trust me you can lose a tank in one of them, and threw a track as we hit bottom.
The rest of the platoon had pulled back, we are sitting at the bottom of the
crater at an angel so it is out with side arms (grease gun / 45 pistol ha ha)lucky
nothing else came of the incoming. An M88 was sent up to pull us out of the
crater; they hook onto one hook and pull us out while doing this the other track
comes off. So here we sit one large visible non-mobile bunker. The rest of the
platoon is covering us from a distance. I do not remember how long it took to
get the tracks back on but I would think we would have been inspired. Were we
lucky, someone watching over us, or what?
Guys thanks for the memories (I think).
Charles Cooper
I think this action took place late '68 or early '69. The Troop was pulling
a sweep into DMZ, this is the first time we went up far north into the Z. We
were searching bunkers. This guy was from A15 track, he throws a frag into a
bunker and goes in and drags out a wounded NVA. He has to disarm because he
was not coming out on his own. [??] They medivac the NVA back to the rear. I
remember it was early in country time because the B52's were still flying mission.
If I am not mistaken he received the Silver Star for this; later on he went
on R&R to Hawaii and when he returned to the Troop he was put in charge of the
Club at Nancy.
Coop
Bowers:
You filled in a lot of information I did not remember until you mention it.
I with you on everything but "SSG Makela", I was thinking it was some grunt
off of A15. I can not put a face with SSG Makela. I believe some of the medical
supplies were from Sweden or something like that. I have Dye(TC A15) mail address
I plan on writing him a letter to see if he can clear anything up; his email
is disconnected. Which track were you on and when were you in Nam.
Coop
Pineapple (George),
Not dead yet. The last time you saw me at the hospital compound I had less than
a week left in country. Most people got out of the field 20-30 days before they
left...not me! For 7 or 8 days before my DVE date Alpha 1-7 went down and I
just knew I would get to go back to base camp. Instead they put me on an APC.
I was hot and had the 'pucker factor' to the max. I was riding on the back of
the APC when it went down into a depression and suddenly up a rise. I fell off
the back, and while lying there looking face up at the sky, decided this was
my ticket out of the field. Went to the hospital and stayed until I had 2 days
left in country. I figured no way would they send me out with 2 days left so
I recovered and went back to HQ. They assigned me to shit burning detail! What
a slap in the face. I could not let such an injustice go unpunished, so I pulled
the 3 barrels out about 4 inches from the outhouse and filled them with mo gas.
The shit burned nicely but 4 inches was not enough distance to prevent the outhouse
from burning as well. There is a picture on the 4/12th web site of the outhouse
burning...I forgot my camera or I could have had a MUCH better picture. There
was a guy in the unit who bought a 38 revolver. He was an APC driver who wore
thick glasses. He only had a limited number of 38 rounds, which he made dum-dums
of. Were you my co-conspirator in stealing his .38 ammo? What a trip. Bill (William?)
Dodds from Portland, OR was on Alpha 1-7 for a while. Talked to him 15 yrs ago.
Got his number from directory assistance. Ronald Congleton from Paterson, NJ
was the driver for a while. Was never able to contact him. Someone stole my
photo albums from my footlocker at Quang Tri right before I left so I have less
than 15 pictures of my time there and only 3 of me. Sgt. Robert Barrows the
platoon Sgt and TC of A1-7 has hundreds of excellent pictures. If we could find
him I would like to get some copies. I have some good shots of the new Sheridans
I will try to get on the site. I couldn't ID any of the guys whose pictures
are on the web. It's been a long time and very few were 1st platoon people.
Do you have pics of 1st platoon during our era?
Jerry Malan
The Finance major woke me up early one morning, around 3 a.m. He told me to
get dressed, bring my flak jacket, my weapon, my helmet and my rifle. I was
to meet him at the helipad ASAP. He left to wake another soldier. While I stumbled
and dragged all my stuff to the helipad, my brain still befuddled with the lack
of sleep, Jerry Malan stepped out of the shadows, "Hey Pineapple, he said, "Where
are you going? He was the last person I expected to step out of the shadows
to ask me. "I don't know, I honestly said, "I have to go to the airport. "You're
going to get new MPC, Malan said. He disappeared back into the shadows as I
walked on. Was I still sleeping? How did Malan know? Was it true? I met the
major at the helipad and we took off immediately, heading on a southerly bearing.
As soon as we were in the air, the major revealed our destination was DaNang,
our mission, he said was to pull security and help him with picking up the new
MPC. We were going to have a currency change in the next few days. It was top
secret.
(Pineapple)
The people at momma-sans whore/drug house knew about the MPC exchange 3 weeks
before it happened. No doubt before your major did, and since I was a frequent
flyer I knew too. Do you remember Sgt. Barrows calling in a chopper for me to
make a P.X. run while you were with 1st Platoon? I didn't go to the PX, I went
to momma sans for the supplies the troopers really needed. I remember Cua Viet
Navy Base and leaving there with the turret full of Navy C-rations. We would
have been main gun-less had we been attacked because no one could fit in there.
.
Malan (Merk-merk)
John, I remember Ferguson well, that night we got hit in Cua Viet; he was crawling
around and asking everybody if they needed water or ammo. He was different but
he sure helped that night.
Bob Taylor
Hey John, I remember Weaver, he used to stand at the hootch door so all you
could see of him was his top half and roll that grenade of his down the isle
and we all would run like hell, then we got smart and painted his toy fluorescent
orange or pink or something like that so we would know it was that dummy grenade
of his, well he rolled that bright orange toy of his down the floor one night
just a laughing his ass off, we took one look at that thing and then looked
at each other and then ran like hell.....
Duke, 2nd plat 69
I agree with what you guys are saying and MAN are there similarities. Turtle
I understand when you say all else pales...it does. I don't know about that
post Viet Nam disorder either. When I see Vets from Nam "traumatized" by their
experience I always wonder. My wife's cousin married a Vet that is really screwed
up. Total disability from emotional wounds! He SAYS 4000. tax payer and Chrysler
Corp.(he did work for several years) dollars a month. As I've gotten to know
him I am of the opinion Nam is a great excuse for being #@&%ed up. He didn't
see much more shit than we did. We were SO lucky...at least I was/am. We're
combat veterans that got a little taste of it all; from the tracks (tanks for
some) to foot patois and of course the night ambushes. I can identify with the
guys on Rat Patrol and Combat reruns, the history channel (me too, Bob) Darby's
Rangers and of course the Rambo movies. I kinda, sorta, just a little bit, had
some of those experiences. And because I did I feel much better about me. I
realize some guys in the troop died and some took the experience more deeply
than I, BUT when I watch (last night!) our guys on Hill 275 or see movies of
D-Day, or Tripoli with WWI trench warfare, or any of 10,000 other battles I
know I had no clue how brutal war could really be. I've told Diane a thousand
times I am so glad Viet Nam was my war. I wouldn't have wanted to be with any
other unit in any other war! When I think back about when I was on the Repose
(hospital ship) and try to imagine the terror I would have felt if it were part
of a sea battle....sheeeeet...not for me. Damn...look at Braveheart or some
of that other medieval crap...THAT would REALLY suck! When I came to Nam I had
no clue (still don't say some). I didn't know what a joint was or any of that
stuff. My first night at LZ Nancy the 'advanced party' had me drinking from
Beaufort (their VC skull) Two Black guys...Scotty and Bradford...taught me what
a joint was some months later. I liked that better than hot (or cold) beer.
And this all gave me the opportunity to come home and do a little "Easy Rider".
Yes Bob, I had me a chopper. Partied plenty hard for a few years. Met Diane
and have been with her for 30 years. Been in the car business ever since I got
off the GI bill and went to work. I don't smoke anymore but I do drink. I too
love firearms and have a small arsenal. I collect and make custom knives (mainly
switchblades...honest), watch the war movies, the history channel, and do a
bit of drag racing. We have a motor home and love camping with a microwave.
Life has been good to me ...very good...but I do agree with who ever of us said
they felt something when the Dessert Storm boys came home to all the flag waving
for a few weeks in the sand and I STILL feel my worst foes in Nam were the people
at Berkley and Kent State. And the liberal sons of a bitches that spawned from
there!!! Oh well...what do I know or care.
Bob Rebbec
Damn Bob, for somebody who says they don't know or care, you sure said a mouthful.
You are 100% correct when you say we got a taste of it all. I went to Nam as
an 11Bravo and counted my lucky stars when I was assigned to a Cavalry outfit
(even though I wasn't sure what a Cavalry outfit was at the time) but it sounded
better than a straight grunt unit. Yes, some times were better than others (I
remember Scotty and Brad. I know I liked LZ Nancy way better than Quang Tri
base camp. It's like we had our own little corner of the world at Nancy. I liked
Cua Viet duty a lot better than the DMZ even though ambushes across the Cua
Viet River kind of sucked. I wouldn't trade my experience over there for anything.
Kim Sliwa (Turtle)
I agree too...Cua Viet was good duty...SUPER food....OK bunker guard, and a
boat ride to ambush. Except that river seemed awful wide when the boat left.
Very lonely out there on the other side of the river. Seemed like it rained
almost every night I went out. The drag races on the beach were cool though!!!
Nancy was a "homey" LZ. When we went to Quang Tri I felt like we had moved to
the big city.)-:
You're right Turtle, my least favorite place was, I THINK, A2. Or which ever
one we were at closest to the DMZ. ( C2 was a bit south, right?) It was the
rainy season and I never did get warm. Nothing but red mud and sand bags. I
always liked the field better than any base camp anyway. I'll never forget WATCHING
those 175mm rounds when they fired the ARTY. Unbelievable to me, to be able
to SEE the rounds go out..and out ... and out...WAY out! What was their range?
Bob Rebbec
I remember when we went on that big task force operation out by Khe Sahn, then
back through the Ba Long Valley in the summer of 1970. They had a 175mm unit
inside our perimeter while we were at the old Marine firebase Van der Grift.
One afternoon they were using the 175s to do H&I fire. They were shooting into
the wooded draws along a ridge line to our west, probably less than a mile away.
One of the rounds must have hit right at the base of a big tree. BIG TREE. Hard
to say how tall it was, but it looked like a tree that was 3 to 5 feet in diameter
and 30 to 50 feet tall. That big old 175mm HE round launched the tree straight
up. Looked like a rocket taking off from Cape Canaveral. The tree went straight
up in the air about a hundred feet, then sorta hung there for a moment, and
started flipping end over end on the way back down. Some of those toys the U.S.
taxpayers gave us to play with back then were pretty cool. No idea what the
exact range of the 175mm was, probably something just over 20 miles.
Jim Good
Speaking of Cua Viet, I remember in November of 69 that the troop had to go
back to Quang Tri for some type of inspection. The three mortar tracks were
left behind at Cua Viet. We had to pull fire missions every third night. The
nights off were spent at the club listening to Three Dog Night and the like.
The only problem, it didn't last long enough.
Bob Taylor
I was a sergeant by now and we were in LZ Sharon one night for just an over-nighter.
We all got cocked and decided to borrow a jeep to get back to our location on
the perimeter. We get caught and they lock a bunch of us up. They get a hold
of old man Robinson, he's at the Officers Club and really hammered, and he comes
down to get us out. The officer of the day was a Capt. Luce. The old man always
wore Cavalry crests on his collar and in the dark this Capt Luce thinks the
old man is a Major. Robinson keeps calling this guy Capt Louse and is jumping
all over this guy's rear end. Robinson says that he ain't about to leave in
the morning without us because we are all good men and he needed us. He finally
bs's us out of jail and promises this Luce that he will bust me because I was
the ranking guy in the jeep we borrowed. We get back from the mission about
a week later and the old man calls me in and tells me I'm too good a soldier
to be sent back to the states less than a sergeant so he never did anything
to me, except I think he got me a beer that night.
(Jim Rinaldi)
One morning, Capt. Kaufman lines up the troop, line abreast on the road between
C2 & A4, facing west. It is a glorious sight, but it is raining and we're looking
at low elephant grass covering a sea of mud. He gives the signal to "charge.
The old 1-2 is slow to move. Everyone else who does decide to "charge gets stuck.
The troop spends the rest of the day pulling tanks and tracks out.
(Pineapple)
One day in December 1969, I think it was around Christmas, HQ platoon set up
a memorial for those troopers who had died or left us because of wounds. They
had attached bayonets on M16's and placed helmets on the rifle butts. I was
astounded at the amount of people that we had lost; most of them were so new
at the time of their casualty that I didn't recognize their names. A catholic
priest presided over the ceremony. As part of the ceremony, the priest asked
if anyone would like to have communion, and if so, he would give us "general
absolution. When I asked what that meant; he said that our past sins were forgiven
without us having to go through confession because of the extraordinary circumstance
we were in. We had a clean slate. I lined up immediately. My last communion
was nearly 10 years ago, and I felt that if all my sins were forgiven without
me having to confess, it was the best damn thing the church could had done for
me, and now I could die as pure as the driven snow, sin-wise. It was still raining.
It was still muddy.
While operating near LZ Nancy, Kaufman decides to lead dismounted "night patrols
into the jungle. It happens that he picks a succession of moonless nights. No
one can see. People have to have physical contact with the person in front of
them, and even then, the person in front of them often disappears down unseen
bomb craters. It is very slow going. One of these patrols gets horrifically
lost and opens fire on an ARVN outpost when Kaufman hears Vietnamese voices
and orders us to shoot. When the return fire sounds like M-16's, we flee. The
next morning, we discover that we have caused KIA and WIA on an ARVN outpost.
The night patrols are stopped, and nobody is the wiser.
The 1st platoon scouts are offered LRRP rations and camouflage fatigues if they
volunteer to make long range dismounted patrols out into the bush from Nancy.
Our patrol goes out and makes camp as soon as we're out of sight, a few hundred
yards downrange. We give fake sit reps of our travels around the AO, while we
chow down on that great LRRP dried rations. .
(Pineapple)
BR: "I dropped off the track like the experienced IDIOT I was (I'd been in-country
almost 13 months), took an M79 into a wash-out and ran smack into a GOOK. The
'79 chose then to miss fire! (lucky for me really. We were only about 6 or 7
FEET apart!) The Sarg had followed me in ( which I didn't know) and covered
me as I ran for my life!!!!"
(Bob Rebbec)
Was that the day after the new troop commander took over after CPT Smith? Would
have been the summer of 1970 sometime. If it is the incident I'm thinking of,
the 2nd Plt was on the northwest side of a stream, and sent some people in to
check it out. The 3rd Plt was on the southeast side. After you guys ran into
the gook(s), I saw 3 of them in the open through the sights of my Sherridan.
Unfortunately, one of our 3rd Plt tracks was right in line between me and the
gooks, just downhill a bit, and the second platoon was straight on beyond the
stream. I wanted to fire up the 3 NVA, but the new troop commander and my TC
said not to. That was one of only two times in Viet Nam that I clearly saw gooks
in the gunsight. Didn't get to fire either time. Oh well, long time since that
happened. I wonder if the gooks ever realized how close to getting waxed they
came that day.
(Jim Good)
Does anyone remember the guy who came to the Troop sometime during the middle
of 1970 from the rangers, P/75th? Seems like he had been in some really bad
stuff, got stranded above the pink line of the DMZ for a few days when the rest
of his team all got killed. He refused to go out with P/75th again after that,
so they sent him to A 4/12. The first sergeant made a deal with him, and in
return for being the permanent shit burner at Quang Tri, he didn't have to go
to the field with us, either. Once he showed up for formation stark naked. I
don't know if he was trying to make like Cpl Klinger in MASH and get a mental
discharge, or if he just truly didn't give a damn anymore. One night he apparently
got tired of burning shit, or perhaps he was just angry at the world. He filled
the cut off 55- gallon drums in the bottom of the latrine with fuel, and tossed
in a frag. Really made a mess of things. At first it seemed a bit weird, but
after that lots of people probably chuckled a bit and wish they had been the
one to do it.
(Jim Good)
Hello from Memory Land,
From the e-mails floating by today I do remember the larceny in the hearts of
all 4/12 troopers. I remember a certain summer at A-4 when FO and a group of
Troopers went down to C-2 to look into the possibility of improving rations
for the troop. The PC was loaded to the gills when the Mess Sergeant of the
Artillery Battery caught one of the guys. I can't remember who it was but the
Mess Sergeant had us by the short hairs. As we unloaded the PC from the back
hatch two cases of goodies were stacked back in through the drivers hatch. (Those
Arty guys never were too swift.)
That evening in front of the main bunker at A-4 we had one of the best cookouts
ever. Steaks were cooked over an open fire. C-Ration Crackers were made in to
the best canapŽs. Accompanied with sardines, cheese and pickled eggs. Every
thing was washed down with the coldest beer that could be found.
Can anyone ever forget the taste of hot Fresca? That has to rank right up there
with anything you wouldn't drink today.
30 Yankee Signing Off Read you 5 by 5
Whoo-ee! I was there! I remember the cookout! The best steak ever! Never had
better in the army! I was a little nervous as the cookout went on and on as
it got darker and darker. I kept expecting the NVA to send over .122mm guests,
but nothing happened! Thanks for bringing it up! We used somebody's RPG screen
for a grille. We kept eating and drinking and talking far into the night w/Capt.
Robinson. (That scene in Apocalypse now: with Kilgore and his airmobile bunch
making steaks rang true) I also remember earlier in the day, watching a mock
tennis match between a couple of guys swinging imaginary rackets and hitting
an imaginary ball. A crowd was watching and applauding the good shots. We were
a very weird bunch. And hot Fresca was just the thing to hit the spot when you
ran out of warm Schlitz.
Pineapple
Been reading the thread about Kit Carson scouts. When I came in country, we
had a guy named "Jerry." He seemed to be really tight with our Lt. & Platoon
Sgt. so I accepted him. Screeching stop! Jerry worked with us, Tom worked with
2nd platoon. Tom & Jerry? Ha! How come I never noticed that in 'Nam?
A couple of unlucky NVA troopers, an RPG team, were crawling up to our NDP one
afternoon in July 1969 when we were working to the west of LZ Nancy doing "blocking"
assignments. Track 1-3 neglected to retrieve their claymore ambush from the
night before. Their philosophy was: if we ain't going no where (& we weren't
because we were waiting for a mechanic to install a needed part for my track)
why bring in their stuff? Ka-boom the NVA ran into the ambush. The rest of us
thought that it was incoming and dove for the dirt. 1-3 started firing wildly
into the bush because they knew what it was. To make a long story short, that
night, when it was my turn for guard at around 3 a.m., I sleepily took a look
around the perimeter and saw Jerry buck nekkid walking around with an M16! I
thought I was hallucinating. What made it even weirder was that the mosquitoes
were tearing me up and Jerry seemed unaffected. Let's see, 2 dead NVA, and a
naked Chieu Hoi =? Is it any wonder that I haven't thought of these matters
for 30 years?
It was a super sad & poignant day when Jerry left us, apparently for another
assignment. He came around and shook everyone's hand then said a big "Hello"
and left. Apparently he got the words "hello" and "goodbye" mixed up. We answered
"hello" back and waved goodbye. "Where the hell is he going?" the Ltee asked.
"I don't know." was the answer.
We had several more chieu hois, but the scariest was a scarred, unsmiling, hard-faced
guy who showed up one day. He looked like he had been fighting a war since he
was an infant. Was this guy a real chieu hoi, we thought? He just emanated a
huge dislike for us Americans. We gave him a wide berth. That very night, he
disappeared, back to the NVA, we assumed.
One of the real neat things that is posted in the picture site are the Chieu
Hoi safe conduct passes that used to be all over the ground on the Z. The one
propaganda thing that I wish I kept were those NVA Christmas cards that mysteriously
appeared on the ground everywhere in December 1969. They showed a drawing of
Santa Claus pointing behind him and the caption was "Go Home." On the reverse
side was a drawing of a woman sitting at a desk with a picture of a G.I. the
caption was "Wish he were home." Anyone lucky enough to have one of those souvenirs?
Pineapple (Cooper has a copy of this on the website)
Drake was one of my first tank commanders in Viet Nam. A mine north of Alpha
Four one day in December 69 or January 70 messed him up. We had a vehicle down
in third platoon, so they sent us to one of the other platoons to pick up a
tow bar. We had strapped the tow bar onto the back deck of our tank, and were
backing up to turn around, when *^BOOM^* an ear splitting explosion went off
right beside the tank. I don't know if they ever figured out whether it was
command detonated, or if we ran over a trip wire. Being very new in country,
I relied on the training that I had gotten by watching the TV show "Combat"
when I was a kid, and did the only thing I could think of. I yelled "Medic!"
Drake was covered in blood. He was in the TC hatch, I was the gunner and sitting
on the loader's hatch, and our loader was sitting on the bustle rack. No one
else got a scratch. Holes in our marmite cans, water cans, and everything in
the bustle rack. Drake had something like 23 pieces of shrapnel in him, and
he was a hurting puppy, though he stayed awake throughout the ordeal. The medic
from the platoon we were getting the tow bar from patched up the holes in him
as best he could and then called a Medivac. Kent went to a hospital in country,
and spent about 3 weeks there, but remained in Viet Nam and completed his tour.
He is now living back in Three Rivers, Michigan -- his hometown. Bub Pollet
is also still living there and Kent said he sees Bub from time to time. They
completed their tours in Viet Nam in very early 1970.
(Jim Good)
One of the ways we acquired grass was to drive out of LZ Nancy at a breakneck
clip, up to the people that hung around the main gate selling cheap mirrors
and plastic bowls. As we passed, we threw a case of C-Rations out. We went about
200 meters down the road, turned around, at the same speed, we flew back. The
gooks would then throw huge bags of grass at us as we passed. Easily, these
bags were worth about $100 in 'Nam, maybe $300 back in the world. It was the
best, most high quality shit available! We called it the grass run.
(Pineapple)
Pineapple you write about getting grass at the gate of LZ Nancy for C-Rations.
One case of rations got you $100.00 bag of dope. (We all realize that we never
inhaled and only did that stuff to let the brothers know we were cool) Let me
refresh your mind. A case of C-Rats was worth $5.00. A case of cigarettes was
worth $5.00. A shot of momma san was $5.00. a pack of ready rolls was $1.00.
A $5.00 bag was about all you could fit in 2 Ziploc sandwich bags. A kilo (2.2lbs.)
was $20.00 that would fill a waterproof bag. Cigarettes were free out of SP
packs, cost $1.10 a carton at the PX.(did get some for $1.00 on that LST and
got greenbacks in change for a $20.00 MPC which were worth 3MPC per greenback).
I recollect it very reasonable. Name withheld by request. merk, merk.
Got an E- Mail at last. Even learned how to check it. Need to send Sgt Barrows
the history of the cav. We were talking the other day and we've both got stuff
to add (pages). Some you may not want to publish, but a lot is humor, like Jordan
driving A17 with the umbrella to keep from tanning. JB was the gunner on 17
when I got there in June 11th 69. TC was Cooper E5. The first firefight we got
into I had to pull the 90mm cases out of the main gun as they only ejected half
way. After it was over I ask JB when he had last cleaned the chamber (screw
the bore) and he said, "Never cleaned it". I took over that job from then on.
Remember Capt Robinson? When we would pull into a base saying we could get most
anything we needed here...Lots of nights out in the bush enjoying dehydrated
steak and shrimp etc., that came from someone else's mess hall. Barrows says
we stole a bunch of food and some of those insulated cans from some unit and
under threat of CID involvement had to bring the cans back but was allowed to
keep the food. I figured they deserved it since they wouldn't feed us or let
us use their showers.
One time on the Z we found a tunnel and using a tank jumper cable lowered Lt.
Canda down the hole with his .45 caliber pistol. Was really steep. While he
went to explore the hole, Dodds and me pulled up the cable and let him sweat
for awhile, yuck, yuck.
The entire troop was working one day on the Z, we were heading for a ridge line
and ran into muddy dirt and had to detour about 400 yards to the left. As we
were turning back to the ridge 5 or 6 large blasts went off on the ridge where
we had 1st approached the ridge. The NVA had set up claymores and would have
peppered us if we hadn't had to move to the left. Barky was in the air and radioed
he could see the NVA running on the other side of the ridge. The entire troop
pulled on line and opened up on the valley. We shot all of the main gun ammo
in the turret, called in air strikes with F4s, arty etc., When the smoke cleared
a bit the CO told 1st platoon to sweep the valley and 2&3rd stayed on the ridge.
The 3 tanks were out in front of the APC's by 30yds. or so. Barky or the CO
was talking on the radio saying we were about to run over the NVA we were so
close to them. I couldn't see anything but jungle thru the sight on A17 but
fired several canister rounds anyway. Sgt Barrows said the barrel was pointing
down when I fired and Bamboo and crap flew all over the place...he thought we
had been hit for a minute. After a couple of rounds I shouted to the loader
I wanted another canister round and got no response. I looked over and the loader
was gone. I ask Barrows where he was and he said "the back deck". I told him
to tell him to get back inside. He wouldn't get back in. I think this was Dodds
when he was fresh off an APC. Anyway I loaded and fired several rounds myself.
About this time an NVA stepped out from behind a bush and Sgt. Barrows shot
him 2 times with the .50 in the upper leg. The CO called down and said if he
was alive S2 needed prisoners. We pulled up beside him and he had his hands
underneath him as if he might have a grenade. We let him bleed for a while due
to this danger. In the meantime the 1st platoon had stopped the sweep. Lt Canda's
APC was to our right rear about 20 yards away and there was a bomb crater between
us. The Lt. dismounted and was walking around with his .45 pistol. I had left
the turret and was sitting beside Sgt Barrows with an M16. Sgt Barrows always
kept his .45 under his .50 cal (use to tease him that the only thing it was
good for was to shoot himself to prevent capture) and I suddenly see him pull
his pistol and begin to swing it back towards the Lt. Knowing something was
up I followed his swing with the M16. As Barrows came down just about in line
with the Lt. I see an NVA crawling out of this bomb crater maybe 10 feet or
so from the Lt. Barrows popped him with the .45 and I emptied the clip on the
M16 in one burst...Poor Lt started shouting "it's me, it's me!" as if we were
shooting at him Yuck, yuck.
Then there was the time Aug? The brains from higher up came up with the mounted
ambush. Three M48s sneaking up on the NVA and ambushing them...go figure. Anyway
we were south of Nancy as I recall and the spot they wanted us to go was low
land by a creek with several hills around. We set up on a hill and notified
HQ. of our position change. It was an hour or more before dark when we were
finally all set up. We were relaxing around the turret when this strange noise
that sounded like a locomotive running out of steam and passing right next to
us occurred. As I was trying to imagine what it was, the area where we were
supposed to be exploded. It was a very large explosion indeed. We were taking
big incoming artillery. Sgt Barrows got on the radio to base camp to tell them
we were taking fire (this was too big to be Charlie's), the base camp said no
one was firing that they knew about but that they would check it out. A few
minutes later this woosh, woosh, steam engine sound started again. This round
hit in line with us but on the other side. Both had been 3 or 400 yds away.
Barrows got back on the horn...same story they didn't know who was shooting.
I joked to Barrows that they had us bracketed in. The woosh, woosh starts again
and this time you can hear it's a lot closer...in fact I thought it was going
to land in my back pocket. We were huddled inside the tank, flack jackets and
steel pots on. This round landed in front of the tank maybe 50 yds away. When
it went off it pulled the steel pot off my head 5-6 inches as it sucked the
air out of the tank. Last week when I was talking to Barrows he said he remembers
trying to crawl into his steel pot. It stopped after that 3rd round. It was
8 inch gunfire. I recall it was the south Vietnamese being trained that fired
on us. Barrows remembers it was our own guys. Either way it was a hell of an
experience.
Don't remember the month but during the dry season we were breaking down jungle
in M48 A17 and as broke down some bamboo a green snake fell down into the drivers
hatch with Jordan. He cane out like his pants were on fire and refused to get
back inside. Sgt Barrows threatened to leave him there if he didn't get back
in. Seems to me somebody else (like me) had to drive for a few days. We also
had a huge spider inside one time (like the old Tarzan movie) that gave everybody
the creeps. I remember getting my gas mask and 2 cans of DDT and locking myself
inside and emptying the cans. Can't remember if I did that for the snake or
for the spider.
Then there was the day we were riding along the trail and the damn left fender
blew off A17 (M48). That was the day I learned not to put trip flares and grenades
in the same box. That lid to that box must have gone 200yds up in the air.
Remember how the jeeps use to get borrowed? Got so bad they started chaining
the clutch pedal to the steering wheel. Seems to me the CO had a hot one he
kept for along time.
One day during the dry season we found a 1000lb-unexploded bomb. I think you
have a picture on your video of the blast (that's not on the web site anymore...is
that your picture?). I put a couple sticks of C4 on it and a long, long, fuse.
We then hurried to a hilltop at what seemed a safe distance. That damn thing
looked like an atomic bomb when it went off. Mushroom cloud, ring around the
base, etcetera. To this day the most impressive blast I have ever seen.
Then during the Typhoon we rode out at Cua Viet (Nov? 69) I was on bunker duty.
The wind was blowing the rain into the bunker sideways and was cold as hell.
One of the guys on the bunker with me got into his sleeping bag behind the bunker
to block off the wind and went to sleep. In the middle of the night the Lt (Canda?)
came around on an APC to check on us and ran over the guy in his sleeping bag.
Lucky guy got rolled under the belly but wasn't hit by the tracks.
I'M SURE we were at Cua Viet for Thanksgiving because I remember a Holiday dinner
in the field and I was in DaNang for Christmas. Don't know the month but we
still had the M48s. 1st platoon alone was north of Cua Viet it had been quiet
and I was bored since it was not a free fire zone there. I told Jersey (Congleton)
who was driving that I wanted to drive that day. I threatened to empty the coax
ammo box the next time I had a chance and he let me drive (he had sensitive
ears). We left our NDP that morning and hadn't gotten 200yds in the very tracks
we had come in on the evening before and we hit a mine. BOOM! I didn't remember
it (most likely concussion) but Sgt Barrows said I had a .50 cal ammo can hit
me and knocked me a little silly. Took forever to get A17 back to the river.
We tried every which way to get 17 on to the navy 8 boat they had there. They
could carry one tank and one APC only. We ended up getting an LST from somewhere
and finally got her back to the navy base. The picture on the website of A17
in the water was taken when we were trying to get her loaded on those small
boats. The road to Quang Tri was washed out and the NVA had control of the area
so they couldn't get a flat bed trailer in to take 17 back to Quang Tri for
almost a month. I stayed with her at Cua Viet during this time. Had my own hooch,
had my own perimeter around it to keep the Navy who weren't invited at bay,
ate 3 hot meals a day out of the navy mess hall, rode the river with the navy
(out of sheer boredom), and enjoyed a hot shower when I wanted to. Best damn
month I ever spent in the army.
THEN there was the time the CO took the troop out to test fire weapons (west
of A4 or C2). We came on line; A17 was the farthest track to the right, and
fired away. I shot 2 rounds of 90mm and moved to the loaders hatch where I had
my extra .50 cal mounted. The ammo was dusty so I decided to shoot it up. There
was a clump of bushes out a few hundred yards that I took aim at and opened
fire. Next thing you know there is a red star cluster flare coming out of that
clump of trees. Seems there were some friendly folks hiding in my target. SS
says He say some holes in their gear. Lucky no one was hurt. The Colonel was
waiting for us when we got back to the base. He said my .50 was unauthorized
and had to come off. I pulled the pin and moved it to the bustle rack. He said
that wasn't good enough, he wanted the mount removed (that had been arc welded
on). I told him we didn't have a torch in the field. He said you have a hacksaw
don't you? It's hard to reason with people like that.
THEN there was the potty Problem we had. Barrows brought back a folding camp
potty when he came back from a leave he had. Instant hit with the entire platoon.
Didn't have to worry about pissing on your boots anymore. That pot saw a lot
of action...until one day everybody in the platoon had the crabs. Had to get
naked and rub that white cream all over while we burned our fatigues. They got
as many sets out of the laundry and supply as they had but I ended up with no
fatigues. The CO gave me a set of his to wear with the damn bars sewed to the
collar. I'd been pissed if an NVA sniper picked me out because of that. We didn't
loan out the potty anymore.
THEN there was the time at alpah4 during the monsoon I was sleeping under a
poncho on the back deck of the tank. Sgt Barrows shakes me awake and ask me
if hadn't heard that? I ask "Heard what?" He says that mortar round that went
off. I told him I hadn't heard it. He points to mud and crap all over my poncho.
I get up and see where the mortar round hit a few feet behind the tank. That's
tired.
AND THEN while working out west we had to make log runs out to Hwy1 to get supplies.
We had been fording this river at a certain location for a month without problems.
The water was just deep enough that the driver had to button up to keep the
water from washing up the front of the tank. We had Sheridans at this time and
A17 drivers hatch had a problem in that getting the cam lock to close the drivers
hatch required a 5lb hammer. Sgt Barrows stayed out in the field for this trip
so I was playing T.C. We stopped and threw a few grenades in the water while
Jersey hammered his hatch closed. When he was ready we proceeded to ford the
river. Little did we know that a B52 strike had come thru there and left us
a 20ft hole in the middle of our ford. We sank big time. Poor Jersey nearly
drowned before he could find that hammer and get himself out. The transmission
and engine as well as the turret electrical system fried. The guys at battalion
or brigade put another engine and transmission in within a few days but the
turret parts were not in country so we were not combat ready. While waiting
for the other parts an APC from the troop got pulled back to base camp broken
down but close enough to the mileage where they were going to get a new track.
The problem was that this poor guy had to clean this APC before he could get
his new one. I told him we should hook up the tow bar and I would pull him to
the river where for a few C-rations the locals would clean it for him. He thought
this was a grand idea. As I pulled him into the water I felt my ass getting
wet. I looked down and my tank is filling up with water. Then the engine dies
and I'm stuck. The guys who put the engine in didn't put the access plates back
on under the tank. It was all their fault-honest.
Another funny story... Barrows always pulled last guard shift from 5-7 AM. We
were working out of either C2 or A4 and the NVA had been shelling the place
daily. A rocket had hit near enough to an outhouse that Barrows used to ventilate
it. We started to tease him that he better quit using it as the NVA had it zeroed
in. One morning he woke me up to take his place on guard at daybreak so he could
go to the outhouse. He had enough time to get his ass planted when the rockets
and mortars started hitting very close to us. Sgt. Barrows came running out
of the outhouse with his pants down around his ankles. He was trying to pull
them up and run at the same time. He had to run maybe 50 feet to a bunker. He
never got the pants up above his knees during this run. They might consider
adding this event to the PT test stuff you do in basic training. You know 100
yd. man carry, etc.
Jerry Just to help you with memories of Viet Nam I used to pull the 0300 _0700
Hr shift all the time because I had to make sure the Platoon was up and ready
to go early every. To make up for pulling the last shift I always pulled a 4
hr shift. That morning at the outhouse we were going to escort the Engineer
mine sweep team on the daily sweep back to Charlie 2 from Alpha 4. I was attacked
by a case of "Gotta Goes when that mortar and rocket attack started. The rest
of the story was pretty accurate
(Sgt Barrows)
Barrows and I were talking the other day and he reminded me of the time the
CO Capt. Smith decided we were using too much C4 explosive (most to heat our
C-rations but I do remember boiling 2 quail I had killed running in front of
the tank which took about a case of the stuff and they were still tough) and
started having that green plastic explosive sent out that didn't burn worth
a damn. Barrows laughed and said he never noticed we doubled our claymore orders
to get the C4 out of them.
Then there was my R&R story. I waited until I had about 8 months in country
to apply for R&R because I wanted to go to Sidney and someone had told me the
longer you waited the better your chances of getting your pick. When my orders
came thru I got Thailand so I was not a happy camper. I flew to DaNang and lined
up at the R&R center behind 15 other guys in front of this Navy guys desk. After
awhile it was my turn so I walked up to this guys desk and set my paperwork
on top of it. This shit head jumps my ass and says if he wants my paperwork
he will ask for it. (The bastard had looked at everyone's' paperwork that had
been in front of me). This guy was an E-6 who must have weighed 300 lbs. and
was all of 5'6" tall. It was all I could do to keep from breaking his neck on
the spot so I picked up my papers and left. I went to Red Beach and found me
a momma san for that week. When I got back to the troop they said because I
had not gone on R&R the troop had lost an R&R slot. So if any of you guys didn't
get R&R after that it was all my fault.
OK more B.S. bout Nam, like the time Sgt Barrows came into the bunker at either
Charlie 2 or Alpha 4 with his .45 caliber pistol in hand, pointed it at the
floor and pulled the trigger. Boom it went off and scared the shit out of several
of us including Barrows. I think he said "so much for the firearms safety lecture."
Then there was the time the new scout in the platoon wanted to go out and learn
to set up claymore ambushes with me. We found a good spot with a trail on it;
I showed him how to hook the claymores together with Det cord, and how to pull
the trip wire across the kill zone to the claymores. I was in the process of
showing him how to hook the safety pin on the end of the trip wire into the
grenade's blasting cap, hooking only one hole so it was sensitive. He was standing
up looking down at me squatting beside the 4 claymores and as I turned loose
of the safety pin it pulled out of the flip lever on the grenade's blasting
cap. This gave us about 4 seconds before 5 pounds of C4 went off. He ran as
soon as he saw it happen. I didn't know if I should run or shit. I knew the
back blast on one claymore was about 18 meters and figured 4 would be much further
so I decided to disarm it by pulling out the grenade's blasting cap. I was surprised
how hot the cap was when I grabbed it (fuse inside burning) and realized that
the explosive in the cap might very well become more sensitive than usual since
it was hot. I very carefully pulled it out of the claymore and threw it. It
blew up about a foot from my hand. I got my first gray hair that day. The new
guy never asked to go out with me again. I changed to an electrical system after
this so I could set it up as hairy as I
