Fred, I said still in a sheepish state, you know what's going on? Yeah, I think so, he responded. Something about an Operation in the DMZ with choppers coming to pick us up and to get everything we brought with us. All I know is we are to pack all of our stuff, as I don't think we're coming back here again. You mean everything, like everything I brought up here with me. I don't know about that for sure, Fred said, but I know he said to pack everything we had. Everything I responded still half asleep and having a hard time understanding everything? Everything, he said, and ASAP. Oh Yeah, Fred said, we're wearing flack jackets and helmets too. Up until now, we had just worn bush hats and no flack jackets as we only had encountered some light resistance and two mines in a months time. One foot-trap made of bunji sticks, the only one I ever saw my entire tour. The other two were box mines and had been around for quite some time when I looked at one of them. The other, someone in Second Platoon had stepped on, and had received what were supposed to have been minor injuries. Up near the DMZ, which we were, there were usually large troop movements by the NVA, so the villages didn't set many mines out, as they risked hitting the NVA troops as well. This I knew about from Peter, as he had been up here since he came over in January 1968. He hadn't been at Cua Viet his hole time, up here, it means up on the DMZ area, as it runs the length of the Country, and the NVA could slip over through the DMZ anywhere. To prevent this from happening, there were a lot of Marine outpost, or small bases I'll mention as we get further along. I came here in late June 1968 to Cua Viet, and up to this point, things had been rather laid back, as we only encountered a few snipers and some minor encounters with small sized units. There was an exception when our squad ambushed seven or eight NVA coming out of this hooch. In reality or as far as I knew, Alfa Squad had the only confirmed kills our entire time here in Cua Viet, which doesn't mean other platoons didn't. How long are we going for I asked Fred? Beats me he said days are all I know, and it's suppose to be to a hot LZ that will be going into. This is the last thing you want to here. The one time I catch a little extra sleep, I miss everything that's going on. It appeared typical for me, my whole life I seemed to be learning about what was going to happen after everyone else knew first. Maybe it was really like that, or I always just thought it seemed to be, but coming in on the tail end of things makes you feel uneasy about what you're suppose to be doing. As I gathered all my stuff together I kept trying to imagine how the DMZ would look like. I also tried to in-vision landing in what is supposed to be a hot LZ. LZ for those unfamiliar with the term is a Landing Zone, usually for helicopters, but actually they are an area where any air craft can put down in that is hastily cleared, no flat run ways with smooth surfaces. A Hot LZ is one where the choppers are taking fire directly at them, where the enemy is trying to shoot them out of the sky before they land. That usually meant a lot of causalities. Since my arrival here we'd only lost about three people and two of them Fred got the night second platoon ambushed us, the other was the mine I mentioned. Being in a semi-secure area was a benefit to a degree. It allowed us all to meet other members of other squads in our platoons. To become friendly and know them by their names, instead of just by their faces. Even guys from other platoons, something grunts don't make much effort to do. Grunts usually keep pretty much to their own squads, and then only to a handful of people. It is only a matter of time before casualties start to happen, and loosing a friend is a hard process to adjust to, it's a bit easier if you don't know them at all. Grunts are known to suffer high casualty counts as we do the actual contact fighting on the ground, and in tunnels. Anyone attached to grunt outfits fights the war first hand as we seek out the enemy where ever he is hiding, or wait for him to attack us when he thinks he has a chance to win or cause a large number of casualties. Loosing your squad members or platoon members is expected, but still not easy. With everyone that dies, a piece of you dies with them, you start to become void of emotions. It's called survival, mentally and physically, the most important quality to hold onto with everything the Lord allows you to hold on with. Seeing boys become men ahead of their time through the witnessing of their friends being with them one second, dead the next. In vicious battles casualties are lost on both sides and Marines stand their ground regardless of how many we loose, as we don't ever retreat. It is why we salute without showing any of our palms of our hands. It is a sign to others that we never retreated from a battle ever. Other countries you see more of the palms of their hands when they salute, they have also been forced to retreat in battles. They have armies hundreds of years old, we're sort of knew in comparison, but in two hundred years as a military fighting unit or organization, the Marines have never retreated in battle, not even once. We stand, we fight, we die, but we don't retreat, nor do we leave wounded or dead on the battlefield. With a reputation like that in your history, no one wants to be the first to break the record, even if it means fighting to the last man and being wiped out, we stand and hold the positions we are given under any and all circumstances. That's one reason 7,500 Marines held off 40,000 NVA and communist forces at Khe Sanh from January to June 1968, we never allowed the base to be taken as we wouldn't abandon it for any reason in the face of any enemy. That is why the Marines are tough and have a worldwide reputation as being a force you do not want to reckon with. The Germans in World War I fought the Marines in the Black Forest of France. When the battle had ended and the elite German army had withdrawn. German Officers were quoted as saying they had fought a group of "Tufel's Hundes" meaning "Devils Dogs" or "Devil Dogs" as we were nick named by them, as they never fought a more vicious stubborn group of warriors in their life times. Solomon came huffing back to our squad from the CP. and had a funny look on his face. Of course Fred said to him, what's up? Not the greatest timing to ask Solomon any questions when he has that face on sort of speak. You just pack up everything you own then police the area, Solomon said in a snappy tone of voice. Hingston you give him a hand, team leaders up, I have some maps for you guys. Solomon was very serious and still radiating a sense of don't mess with me now attitude. Jim, you need to get these radio frequencies down, and God help you if you screw them up, you got that Jim? Yeah Solomon, no problem. I'm telling all of you right now, Solomon said, it's been a walk in the park compared to where we're headed. I'd never seen him so serious, he almost looks liked someone told him he lost his best friend. His tone alone told you this wasn't going to be a picnic. I got everything together as quickly as I could and then started helping Fred. We must be going into something really big, I said to Fred. Yeah he said, sounds exciting Hugh? Yeah in it's own way I answered him, yet I was thinking about what if we get shot down before we even get to fight? We're in reality over here, not the movies. Anything is possible and most likely to happen, as no scripts are written for our outfit or any other for that matter. No one handed you a piece of paper saying you had a guarantee of not getting killed, or that you would go home with all your limbs. You were just handed a rifle and assigned a platoon and followed along until all Hell broke loose on you, just as Peter had said, survival was all that counted, and that survival depended on everyone working as a team. Alfa Squad had spent enough time together to jell together as a cohesive
unit, now I guess we were going to find out how well we jelled. You guys
finished policing the area Solomon said in an irritated tone of voice.
Yeah Fred answered. You mean I'm not going to find any evidence that we
were even here, Solomon said. Yeah Fred answered again as he looked at
me as to say you miss anything. I nodded back I didn't think I had type
of nod, you know, kind of a slow movement of the head from one side to
the other with the motion of your shoulders going up and down, like I don't
know on this one. Bowman, Solomon said, you check it out as if you were
an NVA looking for signs of any of us being here. Sure thing Solomon
Bowman was the last guy we wanted to inspect the area, as if there was the slightest thing or trace of evidence he'd find it. What we were learning was a valuable lesson, although we were unaware of it at the time. A time will come Bowman said when we'll be in an area and the gooks won't know we've been there except if they find traces of us, like foot prints, or holes used for the pegs to put up a poncho as protection from the sun. There! What's that? A hole I answered. Yeah he answered, you just got us all killed as now they know where we are, fill it in, and any more you can find, and God help you if I find another one or I'll have you digging latrines until you drop. I'm not dyeing because you're lazy and don't do your job right. Lynch get down and help him, the same goes for you as well. To me for the last month or so every gook in Vietnam knew we were here, so what was the big deal? So we missed a couple of small holes and foot prints, that were still being freshly made by everyone walking through our area headed for some destination while getting ready themselves. What about everyone walking through our area I said? Keep them out, make them walk around Bowman responded. Easy for him to say, he either knew them or who was going to argue with a guy 6' 3” tall or so. I’m sort of new and small at 5' 6", they could care less what I said, and I didn't feel like fighting half the platoon just to keep them from walking through our area. Get them lined up, Choppers are on their way came a call throughout the camp. Bowman said, saved by the choppers this time, but next time you won't get a chance to fill in the holes or sweep the area clean with a branch. Believe it or not, that was an important lesson that would come into play in the near future. I know it sounds petty, but in war, everything is real, and death is permanent. Line them up by squads and platoons a few meters a part in straight line the order was given. Fill it up so there are fourteen men in each line, which meant putting others together with different men, as squad sizes were an average of seven men. We were all together in Alfa Squad, and Bravo squad and "The Boss" were part of our line. Then once all line up we waited the hurry up and wait thing that the Marine Corps is so well known for. God sitting in the direct sun with everything you owned strapped on your back literally, I thought we were going to pass out from the heat as we were in the direct sun waiting for the choppers to arrive. Some of my canteens were empty, I remembered I didn’t have time to fill them all. Well hopefully we'll be in areas where we will be near water. I hear it's all mountainous in the DMZ and a lot of bomb creators from the arch lights of B 52 bombers dropping 1,000 pd. bombs by the thousands on enemy suspected troop movements. It didn't take very long then we heard the sound of chopper blades in the distance, it started to get your adrenaline pumping with excitement. I was last in line, so it meant I'd be the first one off when the chopper landed. I just thought of that as I was running in line as the choppers began to land. You could see them all now, there were about fourteen of them and they looked impressive. The noise from their rotors stirred the adrenaline in your system as we boarded the choppers as they landed on their marks. Once on board the noise was deafening by the sound from the blades of the chopper. As we rose high into the sky, headed somewhere in the DMZ is all we knew, it began to get cold. The higher we went the colder it got until we were freezing and our teeth were chattering. Nobody tried to look out any windows, which looked like portholes of a ship but without a window in them. The temperature went from 120 degrees boiling heat, to freezing the higher we went and the gunners on the machine guns never took their eyes off the area we were passing over. Everyone had an eerie silence to them as nobody tried to communicate with anyone, we just sat and stared with blank faces at each other. What hellhole would we be landing in, we appeared to be the first chopper, so we'd take what ever waited for us first, so everyone sat in silence. It wasn't but a few minutes and the gunners stiffened up on their gun, we must be in the DMZ. We started to lower in altitude and that's when rounds started hitting our chopper. I took a quick glance around, everyone seemed to be holding their breath. I said, oh God just let us get on the ground without getting shot out of the air and crashing, especially in the middle of an NVA Battalion. The machine gunners started firing the machine guns as their empty casings landed all over the deck of the chopper. To say you weren't scared now was to be crazy, as all of us knew this was some heavy-duty stuff we were getting into. As we hovered lower to ground enemy fire started to bang off the chopper making loud whacking or smacking noises. You could here the bullets hitting even over the sound of the two large rotors on the helicopter. For an instant fear griped me for the first time but I fought against it so as to control it and not have it control me. It's one thing to have a degree of fear. I think it gives you that edge to survive, but to let it control you, that was what every Marine feared more then fear itself. We began to lift out of that area as if there was an alternate site to land. As we pulled up higher and went to a secondary LZ, hopefully not so hot as this one was, rounds still hit sections of the chopper. Mostly areas where no one was, as they normally penetrated the shell of the chopper like a hot knife through butter. No one said a word; we just watched the crew chief, as he would lower the back of the chopper for us to disembark from the chopper when we started to make our landing. Again we tried to go in as bullets whacked off the sides of the chopper, but this time we kept descending and the crew chief started to lower the back of the chopper. The machine gunners worked out furiously as the crew chief set his hand to the lever of the hydraulic lift. That was our signal to stand up and I was one of the first ones off and suppose to go to my left off the ramp, while the man on or across from me would leave at a right angle. The heat rushed in as the choppers back was lowered all the way. I couldn't see the ground, just the bomb creators and a landscape like the moon in the distance as I kept my eyes on the crew chief to watch for a thumbs up, which meant move off as quickly and as fast as possible. More hot suffocating air sucked into the chopper as my eyes were glued to the crew chief. Then I saw his thumb go up and with out hesitation I started off to the left of the ramp of the chopper. Bullets hit the ramp beneath me, and whizzed close by my body and face. As I stepped off the landing ramp I fell through the air, as we hadn't actually fully landed on the ground. It had been on the ground when he picked us up at Cua Viet. All I noticed was there was nothing but air and a large bomb crater below me about 30 meters across and a good 20 meters deep. It was shaped like a funnel towards the center that had brown water in the very center as I fell towards it. I literally fell through the air about 15 or 20 feet before my feet met the side of the down sloping bomb crater feeling bullets just miss my face and body as I fell into the crater. I couldn't believe it, I was somewhat I think in shock, falling 20 feet through the air before touching solid ground. With all the weight I was carrying I was concerned about breaking a leg or having someone else land on top of me twice my size and crush me half to death. As I hit the crater the natural slope downward through me headfirst gear and all into a summer salt toward the bottom of the crater as I made a Ugh sound from the long fall an impact. I was OK. I couldn't believe it, but I really was in one piece and nothing was broken and no on landed on top of me. Marines were flying out the chopper like you wouldn't believe, off the left right and some the middle as the chopper began to pull out while men fell from the ramp towards the crater, no one landing on another, and only God can answer that one, I can't. I figured everyone should have piled up on top of each other like a pile of toy soldiers being poured out of a canister of oatmeal you used as a kid for your toy soldiers, mine were always Marines. We had the "Boss" with us, which I was incredibly grateful for. He immediately started giving orders. Get to the top of the rim of the crater and lay down cover fire for the other choppers still dropping off Marines in near by craters. I got to the top and the dirt hit my face like hot sparks from the rounds that were zeroed in on our crater. I saw the guy next to me lift his M-16 and hold it above the rim of the crater without exposing him and fire off a few rounds, so I did the same thing. I held my rifle above my head in the area the rounds came from and squeezed off about six quick rounds and then looked at the guy next to me for approval. He was a guy from Bravo Squad and he had an aerie look of ghostly fear on his face as his eyes were as wide as oranges, sunken with gray, and there was red muddy dirt all over his face and clothing. Pick your targets, the Boss yelled from a few people down, as he fired his weapon and then immediately got down as a hail of bullets skipped up the dirt from where he just fired. Damn the NVA were good, not like the VC we encountered earlier, in Cua Viet, which fired over your head and took off. These guys stood toe to toe with you and hooked, a term for a fire fights. Bullets skipped along the entire side of the crater as if being neatly stitched to catch someone poking their head up to fire a shot or two. Solomon was yelling for Alfa Squad to form into a squad and into their fire teams. I guess getting sorted out was a good idea, but when anyone moved, even slightly, rounds skidded along the rim of the crater, and dirt, hot dirt and mud spit down on top of your exposed skin. Jay was popping out M-79 rounds in specific locations that the "Boss " would direct him too. Jay was carrying a bag full of M-79 rounds along with a few bandoleers as well. Everyone was loaded down to the max, and moving on a sliding side of a huge bomb crater was difficult. Everyone was all covered with red mud, from the mud that was inside the bomb crater. Anyone hurt the "Boss" yelled out. No sir, Marines kept answering to the point the "Boss" said is the most calm voice yet distinctly heard over all the firing of weapons and explosions, "just answer if you are". God was he calm and cool and had everything together, hard to recognize him with a helmet on but you knew that voice in your sleep. He didn't give the appearance of being the least bit shook up or even overly concerned. First thing we have to do is establish radio contact with the rest of our unit the "Boss" yelled out. Alfa squad you do that now. Having a second radio in our squad, the "Boss" told Jay to locate a frequency for a fire mission so we could coordinate two separate artillery missions safely, without blowing our own people up while suppressing some of that enemy fire that was keeping us all pinned inside the crater. We got to get out of here and now the "Boss" said and Jay grabbed the hand set from Belt who had the second radio and told him to turn to a frequency as he said over the radio, Red Arrow One, Hotel One, how do you copy over. There was a pause and Jay answered 5 by 5, which meant he could hear them good and they established contact. I got them "Boss" Jay said. Get me a couple of spotters on the rim of the crater to see where the fire was coming from. Hingston, Lynch, Solomon said, get your butts up there and give me some positions. Fred and I were too stupid to be scared at this point, as we scrambled to the top. Once on top we removed our helmets as, they obstructed our sight and we weren't use to wearing them. Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Right in my eyes this hot mud went as I slipped down the crater a bit as the mud burned my eyes for a moment. Lynch yells out, I saw that I see exactly where he is or they are! He was all excited. Jay yelled up what position are they from us. Fred pulled out his compass and shot an azimuth in that direction. It's about 150 meters, maybe two hundred, at an azimuth of 64 degrees. Jay and the "Boss" had their maps out. We need some reference points Jay yelled up to us. Like what Fred yelled back? A mountain or something, a peak of a hill, you know what reference points are Jay said in a disgusted voice. There's nothing up here but craters and, Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Fred came tumbling down from the top of the crater as if he'd been shot. Get that position, I want it silenced now the "Boss" said. Everyone made it to the top and opened up like crazy, myself included although I still had mud in my eyes. Jim said to the "Boss" the Skipper is on the net, sounds like he's in the crater behind us to our South and pinned down too. The “Boss” took the net. Aye, Aye Skipper calling one now and have then standing by Roger. There was a brief pause and the "Boss" again said Aye, Aye Skipper, Roger That, Hotel One Out! We were firing back and fourth at a group of NVA that were as dead on getting us as we were on getting them. The Boss was monitoring Jay who was handling two separate fire missions, the Skipper is going to lob some 60-mm mortars on them, and I need some spotters to adjust fire. Lynch, Hingston, Solomon said, watch for those 60's to hit and adjust
from your positions. Got it I yelled out as some rounds skipped along my
side of my head into the crater as I fired back at him with the same intensity.
What a difference it makes to have a rifle that the magazine doesn't drop
out after one shot I thought to myself. Think I got that bugger I yelled
as some rounds just missed my head again as I dropped down. I was standing
on the side of the crater so my head was the only thing exposed so all
I had to do was duck. Fred was in the same position a few meters away and
when he fired at me Fred opened up on him. I'd do the same when they returned
fire towards Fred. Whoosh Bang! Whoosh Bang! Damn they were close
to us, about 100 meters in front of us. I yelled to Jay, up 150 over 50
fire for effect I yelled down to Jay. He yelled back up, Up 150 over 50
fire for effect got it. Smack! Smack! Smack! Crack! Pop! as one went right
by my right ear and three hit the dirt to my left and one I have
no idea where it went as the NVA fired again at us. Whoosh Bang! Whoosh
Bang! Whoosh Bang! Whoosh Bang! Whoosh Bang! Right on top of them "Boss"
I yelled as a round cracked right by my left ear again. Work them to the
left of my last I yelled. Damn get some Fred yelled out as some rounds
drove him ducking behind the creator rim. These NVA were something, they
go toe to toe with you even if they have artillery on top of them. They
don't quite for anything I thought. I fired a few rounds into a thicket
where they were firing from, I pumped about eight rounds, as the 60's adjusted
their fire to walk left from their last strike. Whoosh Bang! Whoosh Bang!
Whoosh Bang! Whoosh Bang! Open up in that area the "Boss" yelled at everyone
in the crater, that we're not having anyone keep us held up in here all
day. Everyone fired with incredible intensity, one magazine after another
until the "Boss" yelled, Don't fire all your ammo at them, I'd suppose
there's plenty more where they came from.
All I could see was a red mound about 25 meters, just enough to get a couple people behind so I headed for that, a rifle in one hand and holding my helmet on my head with the other. With all the gear I had I felt I was moving in slow motion and that mound seemed forever away. I couldn't breath when I got there and Fred was there too, we were like psychic as we did almost the same things without ever having to verbalize it to each other. He was out of breath but managed to say to me in spurts, this is great, we're in the real war after all. I couldn't even answer, as I had no breath left to speak. No one fired at us as we maneuvered to that position about 175 meters from the heavy brush where the NVA had been firing at us from. Jay and Belt were a few meters to our left behind a small brume of mud and Jay was talking to someone on the radio. Solomon, Jim and Bowman went by us to a smaller crater about 25 meters in front of Fred and me. He immediately waved us forward. I thought oh God please give me the wind to make it to the next area before I drop or pass out from exhaustion. Fred tapped me on the helmet and we both got up and sort of a zigzagged by Solomon and Bowman and Jim to another raised area of mud and dirt as Jay and Belt maneuvered to our left behind the same type of cover. Not once did anyone fire at us. I looked back at Solomon and I could see behind him another group coming out of the crater heading for the positions we had had. More of them came out to our right so we were all pretty spread out but all out in the open compared to the crater we had been in. Solomon yelled to Fred and me, get as close to that clump of bushes as you can without going into them. I looked at Fred he looked at me, as there was nothing for cover in front of the bushes, just open red mud. Up we both went moving at a snails pace, the heat had brought on exhaustion as I never experienced before to where I was beginning to feel light headed. All I wanted to do was reach our destination and rest, just to catch my breath back again so I could feel human again. We got right up in front of these thick bushes and trees you'd need a saw or machine to penetrate. Either the place looked like craters on the moon, or it had these patches of foliage that were so dense and thick, they was no way to penetrate it. Still no one had fired at us and there were no signs of movement, as it was difficult to see into it. You could smell the order of the 60-mm mortar rounds that had exploded, so we knew we hit our target. Also the smell of a silvery metallic blood death smell that penetrated your nostrils, so we know they had caused them casualties as the smell of death hung heavy in the humid stale air, mixed with the smell of the exploded rounds. See anything Solomon yelled? We turned, and said in a quiet tone, nothing, just dense jungle, almost too dense to penetrate. Lynch yelled back, I'm going to throw a couple of grenades in and see if the air burst get any reaction. Fire in the hole, as he threw one grenade very high, and then proceeded to throw another just somewhat of the right of that one. I dived to the ground as he did and Boom! Then a slight pause and Boom! Still an eerie silence and no return fire. We could here a whopper of a fire fight going on in the distance from us and to our South, almost down in a valley. The AK 47 making they're Pop! Pop! Sounds and the M16 cracking back just as furiously. Both weapons had distinct sounds that you never ever forget when you hear one fired. All of us that had been in the creator were now out and spread out all over the area. The "Boss" yelled up, who through those grenades? Solomon yelled back, Hingston and Lynch "Boss". Any response he said again? No sir, "Boss", Solomon said, seems they beat feet out of the area when the 60-mm mortars started to land. Check it out for a body count was the word. Fred answered back, How? This stuff is so thick there's no way into it without cutting your way in. Get some machetes and give them to Hingston and Lynch to breach a hole into that area to check what type of area they were operating from and if there are any dead bodies. Fred and I took turns for what seemed a half an hour. We hacked and
chopped our way into the thicket as others members of our squad kept their
guns at the ready for us. It took all the strength we had to penetrate
an opening into a clearing where there were plenty of blood trails but
no bodies. Fred checked for a tunnel system, but none was found. When we
came out of the thicket, we reported to Solomon, who told the "Boss" who
told the Skipper, who's our CO of Hotel Company. The Company was united
while we were searching through the clearing and looking for tunnels or
anything that would give us evidence of how many there might have been.
God was it hot and we had drunk most of the water from our canteens. The
Company had landed in 14 separate craters and had been pinned down from
this area so there must have been a decent size force to do that, the fact
they split was strange and left us feeling uneasy.
Part I of II parts of this story about our adventure in the DMZ. More
is coming so stick around and follow us through the DMZ and to Con Thien,
as Hotel Company is moving now. To be continued:
Author: Bobby Hingston
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