chopper

We were covered in red mud and dust, or dust that had turned to mud on our skin and clothing from the unbearable heat, which caused us to sweat profusely. Fred said to me, do you think we'll be staying all night in these bomb craters? How do I know, I responded. They know exactly where we're located and it won't be long before they either lob shells of there own down on us, or hit us with a major assault. I imagine they'll do one of the other when it gets dark. Anyway I cant see us trying to run any nighttime ambushes, as our only strength is staying together. I can't believe we'd stay here all night Fred said. Where else can we go? If we head into the valley below we'll be right smack in the middle of them all. If we pull back into the dense foliage, well there's no place to put a little over two hundred men in that dense a jungle, or what ever it's called. Your right Fred said, looks like we're in for one hell of a bad night. Listen to Fox and Echo Companies hooking it out below us there in the valley, maybe we'll try a joint effort to join together with them, as they out number us big time the way we are now. Yeah I answered, and we won't get any fighter support tonight, that's for sure.
As my eyes swept the area, occasional sniper rounds would hit near by and drive people deeper into the craters for cover. We were occupying about six craters and there were too many men in each one as it was. Single artillery round would wipe out a squad or more if it landed in the crater that we occupied, so we were going to have to thin out if we intended on staying the night here. There was no way choppers could land here. There was plenty of room for them, but they'd be shot out of the skies as they tried to pick us up, and nobody was that crazy to try that. I could see that the Lt. and the Boss were taking about something that looked or at least seemed pretty urgent.
I didn't like that too much, as it meant any pulling out, and Fred and I would be leading the way. I could vividly imagine getting a round through the head, as we went to get out of the crater. The thought of it was so real that it sent a shiver down my spine, even in this ungodly heat. I had a strange feeling that this could very possibly be my last day on earth. That isn't a thought you want to occupy yourself with, as thinking like that only got you or someone else killed.
Fred and I had been in Country now about a month or so, and we were beginning to get the right attitude as we saw it. The first month you're here, you stick close by the ones who seem to have survived the longest, and you listen and do what ever they tell you, no matter how insane it might sound to someone in the World, or back home in the States. They were alive for a reason, and whatever the reason, I wanted to know as much as I could, to insure my survival also. I wasn't fighting for God and Country over here, or for hot dogs, apple pie and a Chevy car. Well, maybe the car, but our major reason was to keep each other alive as long and as many as we possibly could. We'd become pretty close to each other, and each one of us was willing to do what ever it took to see that we didn't lose anyone, especially from our own squad, then our platoon and then our Company in that order. Also we'd risk our lives for any Marines or Army guys caught in a fix with the NVA, as they were Americans and to us we were all the same, although being a Marine we figured we had more discipline and better training then anyone else.
That was a common thought for everyone else, as everyone thought their outfits were undeniable the best in the world. That is what made you a unit, a cohesive unit that kept each other alive. There weren't any black Marines and White Marines, and Hispanic Marines, there were only Marines in the bush, and when you got to personally know each man, you knew the man, not his color or where he came from. We were closer then two brothers that had grown up together in the same family. We were even closer then we were to our girl friends and wives, as we had a bond or trust that seeded deeper then anything we had ever experienced in our lifetime. I have no idea what it is, just that it exist, and even today is stronger then any bond I have ever had, except possibly my children, and even that is a situation to close to accurately call.
War does something to you that nothing or no other experience can do or even come close to. Many a combat Marine or Army or any other service that experienced combat for any prolonged time period experiences the same thing. Today, 30 years later, if a grunt called me up that I haven't heard from in 30 years and asked for help, and I was capable of helping, I would without a second thought. If it were beyond my means to help, then I’d find a way to help, and others who served with us would chip in, in a heart beat, just because the guy needs help. The bond is stronger then that which you have with your wife and family members you have known all your life. To say it is, because you know in your heart of hearts this person would die for you. This is close, but it still doesn't cover the down deep root to it all. Many a combat Veteran has gone through multiple marriages and relationships with friend that was not in combat with him. Yet, deep down he knows that brother who he served in Vietnam with are truly his brothers. Much more so then flesh and blood establishes from birth, as our flesh and blood was actual flesh and blood spent on a battlefield in a foreign environment. Spent on a battlefield when rounds were kicking hot sand in your face and zipping by so close it was impossible that they could actually be missing you, but they were. Pinned down, wounded, or just possibly pinned down, all you had to do is call out for help and it would be there. That help you were assured of, even if two or three people were seriously wounded in the process of getting to you. Even if they managed to get killed, as you knew without a doubt you'd be there for them. No matter what color they were, or what state they hailed from in the States back home. These were guys only a few months ago you had no idea existed, and now you'd be more then willingly to die for them, so they could live. Navy or Marine, there were no differences. Although in the rear you'd kid the Corpsmen all the time, that he was a Squid, and he'd call you a Jar head. In the bush, there were no Squids, or Jar heads, just Marines. More then Marines, more then brothers from birth. To this very day it is still the same. There are no differences, although we'll still call them names and they'll call us names too. Let that man, and I mean man, as he is closer to you then your natural brother, or wife, or family, asks for help of any kind, and we will be there. I use to butter up to the Doc's so they would sign my shot card, so I wouldn't have to get the actual shots that we were suppose to get every so often. They'd do it, as they were one of us, and we were one of them, except they had a knowledge that no Marine had. That was a knowledge that could save your life, or keep you alive until you got to where the most experienced doctors on earth could do the literally impossible, and save someone you knew had no chance to live at all. I to a degree envied the knowledge they had, and the ability to use it under any circumstances. They wore the same utilities as we did, ate the same rotten foods and drank the same water. They slept where we slept, weather in pouring rain, or blistering heat. They followed along with us into the heart of the most dangerous fighting, or artillery barrage and the color of his skin meant nothing to us. I suppose if you were lying face down in the mud, your intestines hanging out, your body near shock, and this black or white guy offered you the only medical help available, you'd say I want a white or black guy to fix me up? If you did I’d shoot you myself, as your nobody that has ever really been wounded, or been in a real battle. You're nobody of the lowest kind, because you're a bigot and a liar. Pray to God your never dependent, or your family isn't dependent, on the help of a white, or black, or red, or yellow, or brown man, and your going to turn him away. Possibly to get someone not as well skilled? I can't fathom that in my mind.
Well the Boss yelled up to Jay and told him to notify the rest of us we were pulling out. Pulling out! Fred said. Where to now? Why are we pulling out this time? Who cares I said, it beats staying in this death hole all night doesn't it? I don't know Fred said, we could be getting into a deeper and worse situation then we're in right now. Possibly, I said, as we're due for it, considering how the entire day has been since we landed this morning. We have been near death from the heat, snipped at all day ran into the biggest bunker system I've ever seen, and nobody has killed any of us yet. Lets just try and stay positive and go with it, like we have been all day. Yeah sure, I said to myself, I've been complaining more then anyone about all this, and now I try to sound like an optimist? Who am I kidding, as I'm not kidding anyone I know, and they know it too.
Jay reached us and showed us his map, as we broke out our maps to coordinate things with his. This is we're we are going. We are here got that? Yeah Fred and I said in unisons. This is where a bunch of choppers are going to lift us out of here, and back to Con Thien. Both Fred and I got excited when we heard that, to the point that Jay had to tell us to settle down and listen up. Don't screw this up, your both walking point and we don't have the dogs or handlers with us anymore, since they were medevacked for heat exhaustion earlier today, so watch out for a very possible ambush. We'll be going down this mountain behind all the fighting, but possibly into the path of oncoming NVA to help out their cousins in the valley below. We don't need to run into a reinforced division of NVA now and get completely wiped out after all we've been through today right? Right, both Fred and I answered again together. The main thing is we are going to have to move out fast as we haven't much time to rendevou with the choppers, and if we miss them, then we're out here for the night with Nuygen and his family. Now plot that on both your maps and set an azimuth so we don't miss the pick up point. No problem chief Fred said, we will get everyone there in one piece or not at all. That's what I'm concerned about Jay said with a smile, as he knew we would get them there OK, and that Fred was kidding about the not at all part.
Is your squad ready Vincens the boss said without thinking, as Solomon was our Squad Leader? You bet sir, Jay said without hesitation. Ever since Fred and I had gotten there, well a few days afterwards anyway, Jay had been training us in map reading, artillery plotting, medevacks, and teaching us everything we would know if we were the squad leader or platoon Sergeant. Fred and I assumed that was his job with every new guy who came into our Squad. What we were unaware of, was something being planned that would set a precedence in the Marine Corps annuls of Marine Corps warfare, and its technique in fighting the enemy that would revolutionize the entire area we would put it to use in. We could call artillery the same as a FO or Forward Observer could, who was usually an Officer who was sent to a special school to learn his abilities that set him in his own MOS (job description) in the Marine Corps. Heck we learned RECON Training techniques for fighting the enemy on concealment and maneuvering as a small unit, except our units were smaller then actual RECON units. RECON is the elite of the Corps. There are no movies of them like the Navy Seals or Green Beret. There training, all though done with the Seals, and other branches of the military, is much longer and more intense, then what the Seals or Green Beret go through in actuality. It consist of more then a years of intensive training, on behind the lines fighting, in areas no one knows they are in, except a special branch of intelligence, that gives them their orders and watches by satellite them carry them out.
Mainly Fred and I were being trained in a manor no one before us had been, and only the Skipper, and the Boss, knew of it besides Jay. Jay had RECON training, and Special Forces training, and was waiting to go to a special unit when his orders came in. That was suppose to be any day now, but we were unaware of it. So our training was intense, and every minute we were in the bush, and suppose to be resting as well. He hounded us in our sleep it seemed. Hell I would dream of having to call in a fire mission and have no map or radio with me, crazy dreams like that, like the ones where you show up at school and your wearing your underwear for some strange reason and everyone is fully clothed. I had stupid dreams like that a lot, I guess a psychologist would have a field day with my brain.
It was beginning to get dark, well close to it anyway when the order came to move out, and move out quickly. Fred and I walked like point and backup together, only a bit closer, as we were entering into dense jungle or whatever this stuff could be called. It was so thick it would trip you and entangle entire Company for hours if you went the wrong way, and we didn't have a lot of time to be picky. We maneuvered the Company to the LZ as best we could find, and as quickly as we could. We kept catching occasional sniper rounds, but we kept moving, as we were not going to be responsible for our missing the choppers. Once the choppers showed up, if we were not there they wouldn't hang around until we got there. They would just report we were not at the LZ and possible return tomorrow, leaving us to fend for ourselves for the night. Neither Fred nor I wanted to explain to the Skipper, or the Boss, why that was so, missing the choppers, as we were suppose to be a bit well trained then others, although we were unaware of it at the time.
Our lead element was 1st Platoon and Lt. Meale was with us. He was in the lead element and in Alfa Squad, along with Sgt. King, “The Boss” as he was affectionately called, but never to his face, that's if you liked life. Jay nicknamed him “The Boss” when they were in Khe Sanh. He was one hell of a “Bush Master” someone who knew bush smarts, as well as the enemy, and then some. He had definitely earned it, as it isn't handed out to just anyone, matter of fact, he was the only Platoon Sgt. ever referred to as a “Bush Master” or called “The Boss”.
Lt. Meale was young and doing his first tour in Vietnam. He came to the Platoon as Platoon Commander, almost a month or so after Fred and I did, along with the Skipper. He was very young looking, and had a Philadelphia accent. So it is obvious where he was from in the World. He was quite some basketball player, and had an opportunity to possibly get into the big time, from what others said about him. If you ask him today about it, he'll tell you it was a build up on their part, but these guys, other Officers don't tell you those things unless it is true. He gave it up to join the Corps and do his obligation to his Country, possibly giving up any hopes forever, of playing again at the level he was at. Lt.'s didn't have a long life span in the Vietnam War, but to my knowledge Hotel Company only lost one, and that was down outside Da Nang. That in itself is another story you'll get to read coming up. Lt. Meale was a good Officer and paid attention to the experienced enlisted men under his command, something only well trained and smart Officers took advantage of, and were highly respected for it by their troops.
As we neared our LZ mortar rounds started dropping close by. Well it was no surprise we were here and they knew it too. As the mortar rounds came closer, we set up a defense perimeter, to hold off any NVA that would try to spoil our chances of being lifted out of this god forsaken place. In all my experience I had never witnessed a more desolate and yet more dense area of jungle in all of Vietnam. The area, which was desolate, looked like the surface of the moon all the craters and the barren look of it all. It was almost unreal in appearance and something that has always stayed fresh in my memory. The jungle was so thick it was near impossible to maneuver in it, and the heat that day was the hottest I’d ever experience my entire tour there in Vietnam. Mortar rounds landed closer and closer, and it only meant that the NVA would be close behind them. They had us in a perfect ambush spot, as they would be above us, and we'd be having limited cover against accurate mortar fire and automatic weapons fire. We, Fred, Jay and myself, from orders from the Boss, were plotting in artillery strikes. They were pre plotted to be waiting for some NVA to pop his rifle at us and get smeared by heavy artillery fire. Within seconds or so after the first shot he fired, not twenty minutes later, as was the norm, when you didn't pre plot your artillery strikes in advance. We were trained to do this earlier by Jay, as part of one of our training sessions, which we constantly were called upon to practice, so that we could do it at night without need of land markers for orientation. We were extremely accurate with it as well, and having some bush smarts ourselves, we knew what was likely to be an area they would inhabit, or use to set in to ambush us, compared to areas that they wouldn't use.
We, Fred and I were always being called to put our training into actual use. Daily like we were today in a reality situation as we were in, or mock experiences on a patrol. Jay would just out of the blue say get down, we're being hit from there, or we lost a man to a booby trap I need a medevack. This time it was a bit hairier, as we could possibly have 1,000, NVA hardened troops coming down on us like the Chinese did in Korea, when they would mass human waves against Marine positions. The NVA were no slouches by any means, they were more willing to die for Uncle Ho then we were our Country, but we were also willing to fight to the last man, and they knew and respected that too. They had enough experience at Khe Sanh where 7,500 Marines held off more then 40,000 NVA and Communist forces for seven months without giving an inch in return. Or when 2,500 Marines drove almost 8,000 NVA out of Hue City during the Tet Offensive in January 1968, or February as Tet started the second to last day in January. They would fight us, but even asked today, they will tell you they feared us more then any other fighting group they fought against. This is not to belittle any other military that fought in Vietnam during it's long history, it just happens to be a fact that anyone visiting Vietnam today can find out first hand from them, if he dares to ask them. Marines were always taught to fight to the end and never in their history ever retreated from a single battle, but as in Wake Island, against the Japanese in WW II, fought to the last man, against overwhelming odds. We re not the perfect combat weapon, just the only human one that is as close to it as you can get. That is why even today, two civilians on a bus or subway train can be standing near each other and one will mention the Corps, the other will immediately respond, and in seconds you'd think they had known each other for years. No other military service can claim this bond, and have even inquirer to me often how it is so, that we bond with what is suppose to be a perfect stranger one minute and our best friend the next. We are and have been since 1775 been a fraternity of brothers who respond to each other's situation as if they were our own. We are proud of that. That is one aspect of the Marine Corps that makes us very special, and we are proud to declare that anywhere, anytime, to anybody. We're not bragging, just the facts, as Joe Friday, of “Drag Net” days always said, and he too was a Marine at one time.
Mortar rounds were landing closer and closer to where we were in our LZ. Everyone was worried, you could see it on their faces as it meant if the choppers didn't arrive soon, there may not be any of us left to lift out of this god forsaken hell hole of a spot in Vietnam. Any sign or sound of the choppers, the word was passed along the perimeter. No, came the answer again and again and the mortar rounds kept falling a bit closer each time. At the rate they were landing, it wouldn't be long before they would have been right on us preventing any chance for a pickup. Do you hear what I hear, Fred said to me? What I exclaimed? I can't hear anything except those damn mortars getting too close for comfort if you ask me. Listen and you can hear them. Here what I said? Chopper blades in the distance. Fred was known for his excellent hearing and if he thought he heard chopper blades, then he heard chopper blades. Pass the word Fred said, the choppers are to our South and East and closing fast. I got the word passed and there was someone on the net, radio, talking to the chopper pilots. They're coming in for us. Alfa Squad and the rest of 1st Platoon will act as our security the word went out. Oh great, I said, first in last out, it figures. Don't worry Fred said, they will have sent enough choppers for us, hell they knew how many there were of us when they brought us out here right? I don't know, what if these are different chopper pilots, and they figure because of the dogs being medevacked earlier, then there are less then what we are? Think positive Fred said it is the only thing we have going for us right? I guess so, but tell a man falling off a 30 story building to think positive, it won't matter when reality finally comes up on him suddenly.
There are not enough choppers for everyone, we can get everyone on except about 20 people, and you'll have to remain as security till we get another chopper out for you. Lt. Meale, you and your group there will act as our security and the rest will board the choppers. Hold out, we will be back for you before it gets too dark and any NVA arrive. Yes Sir Skipper, the Lt. said as you could see the worried look upon his face.
Everyone heard the Skippers orders, get to your positions and stand by with the artillery barrage once the choppers have lifted everyone out. If we have to I’ll call the damn artillery right on top of us rather then let the NVA get to us, the Lt. said in a very matter of fact way that we all understood all too well. The last chopper was out in a matter of a few minutes as you could hear the Lt. saying Aye, Aye, Sir, that's affirmative, will do out. There are other choppers on their way, they were held up at initial lift off so be listening for them. We all strained to hear them over the mortar rounds that were landing closer and closer to our position. They had a much better idea now where we were located, having the choppers mark our position for them. These mortar men were no experts as they shot over and in front of us but never in the LZ itself. That was a good sign as if mortar rounds were blanketing the LZ no way would choppers land in it regardless if we were here or not. There was no sense having choppers and our little more then a squad trapped for annihilation by the NVA.
It was just about dark and the NVA hadn't yet landed a single round inside the LZ when we heard the sound of those familiar chopper blades in the skies above us. That's a Roger, it will be green said the Lt. On your order, Roger over and out. Get ready to pop a green smoke for the choppers at my command. Then get aboard those choppers as quickly as you can, so we don't remain here permanently, said the Lt. Aye, Aye, everyone said in unisons and the choppers came swooping down like birds out of the skies above us. What a sight, the mortar rounds were still coming in as we lifted off and headed for Con Thien. We were aboard and I felt like a million dollars, the best I felt all day or since we began this Operation Napoleon Saline.
Stick around as it is just getting started. We will continue at Con Thien and then our trip to Da Nang where the action begins to pick up and intensify far greater then what you have read so far. I am only relating the actual facts of Hotel Company, 1st Platoon, and mostly from the perspective of Alfa Squad, as that is who I was with. These are not a collection of war stories, they are factual accounts of what we actually encountered, and the time period we encountered it. As you can see, not every day in Vietnam was a day of battling our way through our tour, as some might have you imagine. War isn't all fighting all the time like the movies, it is battling the elements, and country you're in as well. Here you will get a true account of what it was like to spend 13 mos. and 20 days in Vietnam in 1968, we'll 12 mos. of it anyway.
Author: Bobby Hingston (September 1998)
TO BE CONTINUED IN ABOUT 10 DAYS.