Khe Sanh Veterans Association Inc.
Red Clay
Newsletter of the Veterans
who served at Khe Sanh Combat Base,
Hill 950, Hill 881, Hill 861, Hill 861-A, Hill 558
Lang-Vei and Surrounding Area
Issue 49 Spring 2001
Incoming
Home
In This Issue
Notes from Editor and Board Operation
Gold Star Short Rounds
Memoirs Health
Matters In Memoriam
A Sprinkling of your Poetry
Charlie-Med Reunion
2001
God, How Could You Let That Happen?
Our battalion is extremely fortunate to have an outstanding Chaplain to minister to our spiritual needs. Each infantry battalion in Vietnam has an assigned Chaplain to provide religious service to the men. The assignments are not done by religious denomination, rather on who is available at the time of a billet opening. Therefore, a unit could have a Methodist, Baptist or Presbyterian minister, a Jewish Rabbi, or Catholic Priest- whoever is due for assignment. They are a special type of religious leader- usually very down to earth, realistic and straightforward men, as they would have to be to reach men in wartime circumstances, yet, still very spiritual.
We happen to have a very personable Catholic priest, Father Robert Brett. He identifies with all the men and ministers to them constantly. On Sundays he holds mass on a makeshift altar and attendance is quite good. We obviously have to hold several services so we do not weaken our overall defenses. The large attendance doesn't surprise me, since every man feels threatened and seeks divine guidance and favor. My constant prayer, since even before I arrive in Vietnam, asks the Lord to grant safe return to my family. I ask that he give me a future with my 51 1/2 year-old son. It will be tragic if he grows up without a father and I have missed some of his early years. I happen to be Catholic so I attend all of Father's service whenever possible.
Father Bob is totally dedicated to his job and truly wants to be there to watch after his community of men. He walks around our positions on Hill 558 with a small placard on the side of his helmet that says, "Some men wait to the 11th hour to believe, but they die at 10:30!"
On 5 Feb, he demonstrates just how far and at what risk he will go to perform his duties. Echo company on Hill 8651A is heavily attacked at 3am, suffering numerous casualties. After both of the NVA assaults are repulsed, we know we have to send replacements via choppers to Captain Breeding. At around 7am, a couple of choppers arrive at 558 to pick up the replacements. One of the people already aboard one of the choppers is David Duncan, a civilian combat photographer, who is the only journalist to ever visit our forward positions at Khe Sanh. His photographs become famous. Just as the last replacements board, Father Brett runs up to a chopper and tells the pilot he will be accompanying the replacements. He never bothers to ask permission or seek approval; he just feels he is needed on Hill 861A after their ordeal.
When he arrives on the hill, Captain Breeding spots him and blurts out, "Who's that SOB walking around without his weapon?" When told it was the 2/26 Chaplain, he adds, "That's great, I don't need to baby-sit any more people on this hill." That doesn't raze Father Bob; he just continues to talk to as many men as possible. The men are deeply impressed and appreciative of his commitment and presence.
He spots the Marine positions on Hill 861, K Co 3/26 and tells one of the senior NCOs that he wants to visit those men too! He is told that it is impossible, as there is a mine field between the two positions 300 yards apart. The good padre is very serious and insists, so they walk over to Hill 861 trying to avoid the mines. After a brief visit, he returns to 861A and then back to 558 by mid-day. I would not have let him go if he had bothered to tell me of his intentions. In his mind, his desire to be of service and to administer to those men superseded any need to seek permission. Who can argue?
A few days later, he approaches me as I am traversing the perimeter to inform me that he is short of religious supplies. He requests permission to chopper back to Khe Sanh Combat Base for one day and then return the next with his supplies. He also wishes to touch base with a friend and counterpart at Regiment. I tell him that it is too dangerous to chance the trip and besides he had tempted fate once already. I ask him to do the best he can with what supplies he has left.
Within a week Father returns with another request for a chopper trip back to the base. He tells me he has a job to do, just as I do, and he can't do it properly without the requisite supplies. What is your call? Should you let him go back to serious danger? His sincerity and impassioned plea are too much for me, I call for the helicopter.
He departs our position with no interruption and arrives quickly at the base. I make further arrangements for his return the next day. My gut feeling is that a man of the cloth surely would be granted special protection.
The next day a chopper arrives at the combat base runway to pick up Father Brett, his enlisted assistant, Corporal Alexander Chin, and a few other individuals. As they approach the chopper, the NVA begins shelling the base with 122mm rockets. Father Brett tells another Marine to take his place aboard the aircraft, and he and Chin run back to a trench alongside the airfield. The helicopter takes off and heads for our position. The shelling continues and one rocket round finds the trench immediately killing several Marines. Among the dead are Father Brett and Corporal Chin. The Corporal, an African/Chinese-American, already possesses two purple hearts for wounds previously sustained. He also had been one of my S-3 jeep drivers during our operations in the Hue/Phu Bai TAOR.
I cannot express adequately my shock and regret when I receive the message informing me that Father Brett and Corporal Chin had been killed in the rocket attack, just moments ago. At this point I'm not sure about your total reaction, but let me assure you it immediately changes my attitude and belief in divine intervention and/or involvement. How can a merciful God allow this kind of tragedy to a man of the cloth, a good man, a dedicated minister to his people? How could you deal with such an obvious inconsistency? It took me awhile following this event to return to a religious posture, and I still can't purge it from my mind. I also deal with the guilt that if I had allowed him to go the day of his first request or not at all, he would not have been at that locale on the first day he was killed. The total shock extends to every Marine who knew him.
Man's nature is to search for reason, yet he is incapable of answering the big questions and must rely on fate, not understanding. When we become too self important and think we should know all the answers, all we need to do is sit in the field and gaze at the multitude of stars and planets in the night sky in just this galaxy alone. We then realize how small we are in the grand scheme. Without faith, we become even more insignificant.
Shortly after this tragic loss, I prepare an award recommendation for the Legion of Merit. Lt. Col Heath signs the recommendation and it is forwarded to 3rd Mar Div and approved. Father Brett is posthumously awarded that medal. Small compensation, but extremely well deserved. If anyone deserves burial at Arlington Cemetery, it is Father Brett.
PUBLISHERS NOTE: Father Brett was later buried at
Arlington National Cemetery, in the Chaplains Section. His assistant Corporal
Chin, in an unprecedented move, was also allowed to be buried in the Chaplains
Section with Father Brett. A building at the Chaplains school in Newport, R I
was recently dedicated to Father Brett in August of 2000.
I was also on Hill 861A, when Father Brett and David Duncan visited after we had
been over run on 5 February 68. Their presence did have meaning to all of us who
participated in that battle. A little belated "Thank You" is in order.
The preceding piece is an excerpt from the book Walk With Me: A Vietnam Experience, written by Lt Col Jerry Kurth S-3 2/26. The entire book can be purchased from Leathers Publishing, 4500 College Blvd, Overland Pk., KS 66211, or from Jerry at 209 Hemlock Lee's Summit, MO 64064 or Amazon.com. Price: $17 for one $ 16 & $ 15 for two and three, respectively.
Jerry Kurth
26th Marines S-3
***
Tear on Veteran's Day
Veteran's Day, 11 November 2000, dawned bright and clear. The mountains to the east were framed in the deep orange of a spectacular sunrise. The early morning air was cool and crisp, but the warmth of the sun's rays hinted at another perfect day along the coast of Southern California. There was nothing to indicate that this Veteran's Day would be special. It would be no different than any of the thirty-three I had observed since my return from a war in a far off land called Vietnam.
In the years immediately following my return, there was a lot of hostility shown toward me and my fellow veterans. Some veteran's organizations even made us feel unwelcome. The men that went to Vietnam were not what the news media portrayed them to be. As a rifle platoon leader, I watched these young men grow old in the crucible of war.
In keeping with my normal routine for this holiday, I put on a t-shirt depicting four combat men carrying a fifth man on a stretcher. The words are, "ALL GAVE SOME ... SOME GAVE ALL!" My holiday attire always includes a cap with a Marine emblem.
Having dressed for my quiet and personal observance on this very special day, I drove to a nearby cemetery. I always enjoy watching the small flags as they flutter on a gentle breeze. I spent a few quiet moments remembering friends who are gone. Friends with whom I shared a common love--the Marine Corps. I thought of the young men who had died before I knew their names. I thought of the young men who had died displaying bravery beyond their years, of young corpsman who risked their lives to save a wounded Marine. I remembered the men of my platoon. Yes.' They had human weaknesses, but they were giants when compared to the protesters and draft-dodgers of their generation. I loved them in a way that only those who have shared combat can love one another. Strangely enough, the most vivid memories were the humorous things that happen when men share danger. I said a short prayer, rendered a snappy salute, and I was off to my favorite place to socialize.
I knew several of my fellow veterans would be there, and we could reminisce. It was a daily meeting place, where we solved the world's problems without the help of lawyers or any other government agency. Our solutions were often impractical, but that didn't matter. They were our solutions, our answers. We had solved the election mess two days ago. As I entered the donut shop, I acknowledged several friends and proceeded to the counter. I noticed a young family at one of the tables, but I didn't know them. I stood at the counter while my coffee was poured. From the conversation behind me, I heard a soft voice say, "I'm sure that man is a veteran." I became aware of a young girl standing next to me. Smiling, I turned toward her. She looked up at me and asked, "Excuse me, sir, but are you a veteran?" I replied that I was, and she said, "Thank you for doing that for our country!" I stood there, tears welling up in my eyes and managed to tell her that she was very welcome. By this time, the tears were freely running down my cheeks. I have never felt more appreciated and after recovering a little composure, I walked over to the table where the young family was sitting. I thanked them for teaching their daughter the meaning of Veterans Day. They told me that her teacher had explained why we celebrate Veteran's Day and that they should thank the veterans that they know or meet, that their grandparents and even some of their parents could very well be veterans. To all the teachers and parents who take the time to explain why we observe Veteran's Day. I would like to extend a very warm, heartfelt "Thank You !"
I've shared this story with many people--veterans and non-veterans--and the reaction is always the same. They get choked up and tears can be seen in a few eyes. For a brief moment, all veterans are honored by a genuine show of emotion from a fellow American. The memory of this young girl's "thank you" will always be a part of my private remembrance on Veteran's Day.
Ronald R Burton
D CO 1/3 2ND PLT.
***
LZ Margo?
It is late at night and I have just finished reading the Fall 2000 edition of Red Clay, the Khe Sanh Veterans' newsletter. I have been a subscriber since the late 1980s. When I receive my newsletter, I cannot put it down until I have thoroughly read it cover to cover. It always seems to pick up my spirits but then again, I am always brought back down when some of the articles hit home. It is like a double edged sword. This time last year, I was enrolled in the PTSD stress unit at Montros, N.Y. V.A.
This is the first time I have written to the Red Clay magazine. Many times I have wanted to write but could not gear myself up to do it. Please be advised, I am not very good at writing down my thoughts, but here goes. Before I begin I have a question. What is the significance of the guy wearing the NVA helmet on the cover? There was not an accompanying article with an explanation. It actually gave me the creeps. A lot of the guys at the VA Center wanted to Xerox it and make a dartboard. My personal thought was that he had done his duty, as we had, serving his country, and we should not feel that much bitterness. There were just as many people back in the World who were worse enemies.
But what really garnered my attention was the article written by Michael Worth (Short Rounds: No Small Things) when he spoke of his buddy Stan Pettit, who was KIA at LZ Margo. Although I did not know Stan Pettit personally, I lost a lot of good friends there as well. When the action incurred, I was on R&R. I did hear it was real bad for the troops.
Over the years, I have attempted to learn the facts of that action. These attempts met with failure. Although I am not yet computer literate, I did obtain a copy of the official Marine Corps action in Vietnam from Headquarters, Washington D.C. There was no mention of the action that occurred at LZ Margo in that report. There is something not right here. If any one of our brothers can share their memories regarding LZ Margo, it would be much appreciated.
I also have something of interest to the family of Stan Pettit. When I returned from R&R, there was a small ceremony held on the USS Princeton for the 46 Marines and Navy Corpsman who gave their lives in defense of LZ Margo. I am enclosing a copy. Please see to it that it gets to the Pettit family. It isn't much but it shows there was a service held for these brave Marines and Navy Corpsman. Most of the time this was not the case. God Bless them all.
Semper Fi
Jim Mooney H&S CO 2/26
PUBLISHERS COMMENT: The picture of the cover was taken by our managing editor Paul Knight, during a trip back to Vietnam. It is of an old NVA soldier wearing what we refer to as "our colors." He did not pose for it; Paul captured him in that pose with a long-range lens. The copy of the memorial service, which included Stan Pettit, has been mailed to his Father as you requested.
***
Ambushed
We flew to the Khe Sanh Combat Base and started humping as soon as our feet hit the pierced steel plank runway. We followed the narrow foot path to the hills heading west, passing many other units along the way. We were to check out the hill in front of us to see if the enemy still occupied it. With Hill 8818 to our backs, we headed toward Hill 861. I was radio man for Lt. Kresty 2nd Platoon. As we came to the crest of the burnt, blasted hill, we all felt the tenseness in the air. As I stepped over the bloated body of a three-days-dead Marine, I was thinking, there is something seriously wrong with this picture.
The initial burst of automatic weapons fire hit L/Cpl Chapen (in front of the Lt. and me). The man in back of me had his left arm shattered by the same burst. The lead elements of our unit were out of sight in a deep, steep ravine dividing the two hills. SSgt Livingstone had organized an assault. They all had pulled pins on their grenades. VanDerhoof fired his 3.5" rocket until he was out of ammo, then yelled to Chapen, "I'm coming to get you out of there." Chapen was fully exposed to the well-concealed bunkers facing us across the draw but had remained motionless so as not to draw additional fire. We all provided covering fire with our rifles and all three of our machine gunners stood shoulder to shoulder blasting away with smoke and brass flying, as VanDerhoof came back with Chapen in his arms. This is the most beautiful sight anyone could ever hope to have etched in his memory. After he got Chapen to a Corpsman, VanDerhoof yelled at one of the machine gunners, accusing him of almost shooting him. The machine gunner explained that he was shooting the NVA soldiers about to overtake VanDerhoof as he carried Chapen.
I was still pinned down, talking on the radio behind a "log" about 8 inches in diameter. Woodie piled in on top of me wanting to get into one more good fight before he left for home in two weeks. I described to him what he would see when he looked up and that the most accurate fire was from the bunker just to the right of the one small tree across from us. Not realizing that the gunner was still trying to take me out (since I had the radio) and that he was sighted in on my radio antenna that stuck up from my position, Woodie raised his head to have a look. Three shots from that automatic weapon hit him in the forehead about an inch below the front rim of his helmet. He fell lifeless onto me. Woodie saved my life with that move. I was just through talking on the radio and was getting ready to do exactly what he had just done. It cost him his life. I had filled out a lot of WIA and KIA reports and sent them, but something just took the heart out of me right then. I couldn't write up Woodie's report. Such a full-of-life, enthusiastic man dead, two weeks before he was scheduled to leave Vietnam. I didn't know him well, but I wish I could tell his family that he was a brave and good Marine.
I hope that they have peace with him gone. It has to be a big hole in their hearts. I talked to VanDerhoof in 1999. He's doing fine. Talked to Lt. Kresty too. Can't find Chapen's name on the wall, but it doesn't make sense that he lived. Woodie's name is there. I wish that it wasn't. I've found 18 men from Mike Company, Good men all. God Bless you, Woodie, Semper Fi. (Woodie was Cpl Wayne H. Woodard from Philadelphia, age 20)
Rick (Ira) Johnson.
M Co 3/9 2nd Plt
***
Fond Memories
Lt. Col. John "Jack" Roberts, USAF, passed away a few weeks ago in March of 2001 from a stroke. Jack was 81 years old and served in the USAF for 32 years. His career started during WWll where he flew a B-24 Bomber. He continued his service, fighting in Korea and Vietnam. In Vietnam, Jack flew many Puff missions and piloted Birddogs. At Khe Sanh, Jack served with" 20th TASS TIGERHOUNDS," his call sign was "cubby 50."
Last time I saw Jack was at the Las Vegas reunion in 1995. He was there with another Birddog pilot, Lou Armbruster, who also served at Khe Sanh. Both Jack and Lou are Life Members of the Khe Sanh Veterans Association. Jack was a real gentleman who could tell interesting stories of his service in Vietnam and WWll.
In Vietnam, Jack saved many lives, even having to resort to disobeying orders when told to leave children behind or refusing to bomb a village which he knew to be friendly. Jack's commanding officer did not appreciate bad landings by his pilots. On one occasion, Jack did in fact make a bad landing, damaging his aircraft. Not wishing to face the wrath of the C/O, Jack asked his mechanic for a screwdriver. The mechanic asked, "What size?" Jack replied "about the size of your pinky finger." Jack then proceeded to punch holes in his plane as if hit by small arms fire. Years later, Jack confessed to his C/O, and they both had a good laugh.
It is strange. I was going through some old photos of reunions past and Jack's picture fell to the floor. I picked it up and memories of him compelled me to call him. I got his answering machine and left a message to return my call. Lou Armbruster called instead informing me of Jack's death. I felt sad but I remembered him and his stories and decided to share them with others. Which brings me to a point--this is why we should attend as many reunions as we can.
Experiencing the joy of meeting old friends, looking at pictures, listening to stories past. Sharing experiences with our brothers from other branches of service-it can do nothing but change your life for the better. I hope I meet more "Jacks" and "Lou's" at future reunions.
His wife and 3 sons survive Jack. It would be appropriate to send a card or a letter, if you knew him. His family would most appreciate the remembrance of him by his fellow brothers from Khe Sanh.
Mrs. John Roberts
22558 Vought St
Moreno Ca 92553
Semper Fi
Jimbo
***
From Vincent Rios
Norm Mahalich, my good friend and fellow member of the First Marine Division Association, Northern California Chapter, and fellow member of the MCL, Lt. Frank Reasoner Detachment, Hayward California and member of the USMC/Vietnam Helicopter Pilots Association, were the principle organizers of the pilots' August "ReUnion 2000" at the Town & Country Convention Center in San Diego.
Norm got the brilliant idea that I should attend his pilots' reunion as his guest and possibly as a speaker. There was also the hope I might find the helicopter crew that rescued me after I was severely injured, losing three limbs to an enemy mine. I liked the idea, and agreed to attend, also hoping to locate the actual helicopter I was rescued by. My son, who is a helicopter pilot stationed at the Marine Corps Air Station, New River, NC, informed me that most of the "CH-46's" (like the one that rescued me) are stored there. And as a long shot, I hoped to find Rich Bianchino, my ward mate at the Oaknoll Naval Hospital in Oakland, CA while recovering from my wounds in the spring of 1969.
Well, two out of three isn't bad. I did find Rich Bianchino and Ned Dautriel,
the crew chief of the helicopter that rescued me. What a reunion it was! I was
so extremely happy to see them both alive. The last time I saw Rich, he was in
traction covered from the neck down in gauze bandages from burns he sustained
when his helicopter crashed and burned. Ned Dautriel also surprised me by
remembering the extent of my wounds and quoted statements I had made while en
route to the hospital at Marble Mountain. Sadly, he informed me that the
helicopter I was looking for was shot down and burned. I laughed and cried at
the same time.
Nevertheless, I was grateful for the opportunity to convey my gratitude to the fine Marines who saved countless lives, that without their help, would have certainly perished. I know I can only speak for myself, but this was a catharsis long overdue. Everyone who has seen combat should experience it.
Vincent Rios
A CO 1/1
***
Headquarters
3rd Battalion, 9th Marines
3rd Marine Division (Rein) FMF
From: Commanding Officer
To: The
Officers and Men of:
H&S
Company
"I"
Company
"K"
Company
"L"
Company
"M"
Company
Subject: Operation DEWEY CANYON
1. One month ago today we completed OPERATION DEWEY CANYON. This was a bold operation into an NVA sanctuary heavily defended by anti-air-craft weapons, far from our support base at Vandergrift, and undertaken during the worst part of the monsoon. We were the first US troops ever to enter this area. We were also the first troops ever to pursue the enemy into Laos. The fire support base we Constructed and defended at Cunningham, was the biggest ever established by the 3RD Marine Division. We captured for the first time in this war, Russian-made 122mm field guns with a range of over 13 miles.
2. This operation was originally planned to last only 3 weeks. We were delayed many times due to bad weather, once for a period of 9 days. During these cold, wet periods of limited supply and short rations, your spirits never failed and you continued to aggressively accomplish your mission despite the trials of weather and a fanatic enemy.
3. Enemy losses during this period were staggering. Over 500 tons of enemy ordinance transported down the Ho Chi Minh Trail was seized before the enemy had an opportunity to use it against us, or against Quang Tri, Hue or Danang. This was the largest arms capture so far in this war! In addition, the enemy lost over 1500 troops making this operation the largest and most important undertaken by the regiment during the past year. NVA Route 548 was occupied and cut, thus denying the enemy his main supply route into the Ashau Valley. His radio and telephone communications were tapped and exploited to an extent that greatly damaged his ability to hit us.
4. Our success on DEWEY CANYON was not at all a small cost to us. Our Battalion had 48 men who paid the supreme sacrifice. We will always honor their deeds and cherish their memory. Also over 240 Marines and Corpsman from 3RD Battalion, 9TH Marines, were wounded in action; some for the second or third time. We wish them a speedy recovery.
5. Your outstanding results have not gone unnoticed. The corps Commander, Lieutenant General STILLWELL, has recommended the regiment for the Army Presidential Unit Citation for this action. Recently, Major General Davis received for the 3RD Marine Division, the Vietnamese Cross of Gallantry with Palm (a unit citation) that covers the period of DEWEY CANYON.
6. I wish to commend each member of the Battalion for this unselfish devotion to duty and his untiring efforts. Congratulations on a job well done, best wishes for success in the future!
E.R. LANE JR.
Lieutenant Colonel, U.S. Marine Corps
Commanding
***
Going Home
I feel that one of the most profound feelings was the thought of going home and the mystery about it. There were two things that weren't talked too much about in a boasting way: when you were leaving, (short timer), and premonitions about dying. I have seen it come true for a few and even made it more mysterious. Many would say, "I will believe it that I'm home when I'm sitting in my living room." The flight home I feel was really emotional, looking out the plane windows and watching Vietnam disappear behind you, the anticipation of what to expect arriving in the states. I got out in August 1970 in Philly Naval Base, where Tun's Tavern is located. I felt at the time it was a neat place to be released.
***
I read with interest the letter from Gary Foster in which he points out that folks are having trouble finding the USMC airstrip. I was at Khe Sanh in . early February 1968 until I was wounded, at which time I was sent to Hill 881 South with three 105 Howitzers to help defend Khe Sanh. When it was time to evacuate the Hill, they took us off under fire and as we went over Khe Sanh, we circled, as we had all come from there. I took the attached photo of the base. The second is me at Hill 881South and the third is a map of the base at the time the Russian tanks were after us.
I was a Cpl. with Charlie 1/13 at Khe Sanh and at Hill 881South in 1968 during TET
Jeffrey Spear
j spear@ix.netcom.com
ED NOTE: Sorry, didn't get the attached photos.
***
Batcats at Work
By Bill Person
Excerpt from BATCATS: Sensors Go to War The Air Force had purchased 60 converted Navy Willie Victors to use in a McNamara Priority One Project called a lot of names. Many are not listed here, and rightfully so. In early 1967, nine college professors were invited to a Pentagon-funded think tank. Their objective was to devise a plan to "impede the flow of men and materials down the Ho Chi Minh Trail." America, regardless of Robert Strange
McNamara's insistence to President Johnson, was not winning the minds and hearts of the Vietnamese people in the south.
The supreme Perfumed Prince, General William C. Westmoreland, was not "being all you can be" Army's idea in the Vietnam War. Operation Rolling Thunder, originally intended to last only a few weeks, was still in progress. The Rules of Engagement that prohibited actually inflicting injury to North Vietnam, served to stir the people against us, not dishearten them as Secretary of Defense RSM claimed.
The nine professors did propose a cheap method (a relative term for merely a billion tax dollars) of "impeding" Hanoi's waging a war against South Vietnam. They recommended using Navy C-121 Super Constellations as an airborne platform to detect movement with sensors that were seeded along the trail in the Laotian panhandle by modifying radio receivers, ARR-52s, with also modified submarine sonobuoys as sensors, all in-house available items.
This was then renamed "Practice Nine" and ordered into R&D. Apparently, the Pentagon knew that LBJ was not going to employ their plan to bomb 94 strategic targets within three weeks of the real Rolling Thunder. McNamara convinced LBJ not to focus on an outright total devastation-type bombing of North Vietnam but rather hit more inoffensive obscure targets with the intent of demonstrating our capability. It failed, of course, and the Pentagon did not bother to use "halt" because that was not a possibility--"impede" was.
By June 1967, the Defense Communications Planning Group (DCPG), an offshoot of the Navy at Washington, took charge and initiated testing and developing the now dubbed "Muscle Shoals" and "Dune Moon." Forty-one crews were amassed and processed, and training commenced along with testing.
A huge Air Defense-type blockhouse was constructed at Nakhon Phanom along with four massive rotating framework-type dish antennas on derrick mounts. The 553rd Reconnaissance Wing with its two Squadrons, the 553rd and 554th deployed to Korat (Nakhon Ratchasima) Royal Thai Air Base, Thailand before the end of the year. A .crew consisted of 19 members, an aircraft commander, a co-pilot, two navigators, an electronics warfare officer, EWO, two flight engineers, a radio operator, a Combat Information Control Officer, eight Combat Information Monitors and two electronics technicians. A plexiglass plotting board was positioned across the aisle from the CICO's position in the back.
As the CIMs called in "hits" on their radios, indicating activity down on the ground, this movement was plotted on the board. The CICO had an encrypted radio, an ARC-109 with a KY paddle set scrambler to communicate with other Batcat aircraft and Task Force Alpha at Nakhon Phanom. The CICO panel also had other UHF, VHF and HF radio capabilities. The plane employed, in addition to the CIMs who were considered as merely backup, an "X" band transmitter to relay all the sensor beeps on to NKP. At TFA's blockhouse, giant computers processed the signals and plotted them on a printer.
Once a truck convoy was determined, as programmed by the computer, a report was generated. TFA was staffed by civilians, highly overpaid, tax deferred who sent off a "Spotlight Report." TFA members had gone to 7th AF and most of the bases, 7/13th AF at Udorn to sell the importance of these reports. The Airborne Communications and Combat Control ship, ABCCC maintained two orbits in the Laos panhandle around the clock. "Hillsboro" day and "Moonbeam" night flew "Barrel Roll" and "Cricket" day and "Alley cat" night in the south part. Forward Air Controllers (FACs) were assigned a sector and when they had targets, ABCCC sent them fighters to strike them. The computer at NKP (Naked Fanny) was programmed to detect movement of trucks going past four sensors placed along a road on the Ho Chi Minh Trail. TFA erroneously thought truck convoys formed up at Hanoi and drove down close to Saigon. In fact, it was a shuttle/relay type of supply system designed to dodge our bomb-laden jets.
Sold on the importance of "Spotlights," ABCCCs sent FACs to check on the high priority targets. But, as it turned out, the trucks never responded as TFA's computers thought. When the FAC got to the predicted location indicated in the "Spotlight," nothing was there. The trucks had pulled-up and stopped or else turned off the road but did not get to the place predicted by TFA. After a while, ABCCCs and FACs stopped responding to the urgent "Spotlight" messages. Again, TFA would make the rounds selling the importance of their highly prized "Spotlights."
I knew about this and back .during the last of January 1968, I punched in the illuminated on/off button to listen in on one of our Accubuoy sensors. I heard the unmistakable squeaking sounds of a tracked vehicle moving down the road. Curious, I began to punch buttons to hear several more of these tracked vehicles. I consulted my detailed map of the area to see that a lot of bomb craters were blown in that section of Route 9 of the trail. These vehicles were going around them and proceeding on down the trail. This old Texas boy knew the sounds of a bulldozer from growing up in the oil patch and also in ranch and farm country. The powerful diesel engine is left at a high rev while the gears are changed to move back and forth while working the blade to do the dirt moving work. This was not the case here, and I heard more and more of the tracked vehicles move down the trail in a widely spread spacing. I kept notes and when I got back to Korat, I insisted our Operations Center fire off a message reporting tanks moving down the trail towards South Vietnam.
I will never forget the enthusiasm I generated at the newly constructed 553rd RCW Ops Center when we sent out that message and waited for an answer. In fact, I had served in the additional duty special project as Wing Beautification Officer. I had driven a pick-up truck into Korat and instructed some airmen with me to dig up banana plants and a bunch of other flora to plant around the new headquarters buildings. I was kind of thought of as something special by my fellow Batcats. When the message came in from 7th AF at Ton Son Nhut, it stated that Air Force estimates did not assess NVA with possessing tanks. It went on to suggest what I had heard might have been bulldozers doing repair work on bomb craters on the trail. I fumed and exclaimed that this Texas boy sure as hell knew what a bulldozer sounded like, and these were tanks.
A little more than a week later, on February 7, 1968, the Special Forces camp at Lang Vei reported tanks. As a matter of fact, it was at 0035 hours, Sergeant Nikolas Fragos in the Tactical Observations Center tower reported, "They've got tanks!" He went on to say, "I don't know how many, but they have tanks out there!" Captain Frank C. Willoughby asked, "Where the hell are they? .... We have two tanks in our wire!" Fragos shouted. An unknown station then added, "We've got five tanks on line right at our wire!" Then the same voice said, "We've got tanks inside our wire! I said inside our wire!"
When our headquarters did acknowledge this fact, they said that these were 11 Soviet-built PT76 amphibious type armored vehicles, not tanks. Whatever they were, they sure as hell kicked the hell out of our Army Special Forces at Lang Vei and the Marines at Khe Sanh. That was the start of the infamous Tet Offensive and the 77-day siege of Khe Sanh. My brother-in-law, Marine 1st Lt Marion Henry (Hank) Norman was killed there on March 29th. Because of the technicality, headquarters never admitted to my correct assessment about tanks, not bulldozers.
Some time later, I was watching the lights go on and off on the CICO panel display and checking the activity on the plotting board against my map. I noticed that a truck with a rather loud exhaust would go past some of the sensors but never get to the fourth one in a string of four. Then, a bit later, it went back north again. This was just south of the Ben Hai River on our Blue Orbit, which was up near the DMZ and above the Rock Pile and Con Thien, all just south of the river.
I began to observe a repeating event of the truck and I just employed my old Security Service creative thinking process. It occurred to me that this was where the NVA brought supplies and ammo down Route 1 to the DMZ, then west to a point where their sampans ferried the stuff across the Ben Hai River. I managed to imagine that there were storage parks on both sides of the river. Running south a short way, the road had a spur back to the west and I imagined that there under a grove of trees, was another ammo dump. I got the timing down for the repeating trips of the truck and then called Alley cat. The ABCCC answered, and I asked him if he could go secure voice with me. He said he could and we made contact via scrambler on a different frequency from TFA. I didn't want them to hear me. I told Alley cat about my suspicions and that I had heard the jet jocks screaming for targets, not wanting to drop their ordnance on a harmless disposal area. They were running low of fuel and wanted the mission to count for something. I gave Alley cat the coordinates, and he sent Covey in to check it out. I had timed it so the truck would be back at the river taking on another load.
Covey, a FAC, spotted what he thought might be something under some trees. He marked it with a Mighty Mite smoke rocket. and two F-100s were cleared in hot. Luckily, they were spread and two barely veered off because Lead's bombs set the entire grove off in a tremendous series of explosions. I could hear him on the other clear frequency. "My god, watch it, Two! Looks like the whole world blew up!" Lead shouted.
Two broke it off and barely missed the billowing. fireball. Alley cat got a bomb damage assessment (BDA) of an estimated 270 secondary explosions from that ammo dump. Alley cat relayed, as I heard also, a call for another target like that one. I gave him the spot I was sure was the place where the truck might be loading up again. This time, Covey marked it and F-100 Two, the wingman delivered his load. "BOOM!" Another estimated 270 secondaries. And probably a truck too.
From the illumination of the explosions, the FAC could see activity across the river. This was called Tally Ho. When Covey swooped over to mark it with another Mighty Mite white phosphorus smoke rocket, he accidentally ignited that ammo supply dump, too.
Needless to say, Alley cat and a bunch of jet jocks got all enthused about the Batcats from Korat. However, like all good wars, fun is the first casualty. TFA also learned of this inter-unit unauthorized communication and all future such direct contact with ABCCCs were prohibited. I tried it directly with FACs and jet jocks too but that, too, was banned. So, it was back to ignoring Spotlight reports, gaining a term for a Lamar Cranston, or the Shadow Reports.
I did get a chance to officially pose the question, "since the TFA complex was just across the Me Kong from Takhet, Laos, a known VC town, and in range for a mortar barrage, who would serve as back-up to TFA?" TFA proudly announced a planned solution. They were simply going to build another complex down south of there on the Me Kong.
They say, "Never stand too close behind a high-ranking civilian. You might get beat to death when he pats himself on the back."
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Searching for Information
Hi, My name is Georgia Watson, daughter of William Allen Thomas. I am searching for other Marines who were his friends, fought with him, etc. I am desperately searching for information in order to get to understand the experiences he went through and maybe find his buddies. He was killed in Jan 1970 after returning home from Vietnam. He was killed in an auto/train accident, I was 6-months-old at the time, and my mother was 19-years-old. Allen was 23. He spoke very little of his times in Vietnam, so I am unable to get any info from my mother.
He was in the 3rd Battalion, 26th Marines, "L" company from 12/1966 to 11/1967, as a 0311 Rifleman.
He arrived in Vietnam in Dec 1966 via USS Lenawee into Dong Ha. He participated in Operation Prairie in Quang Tri as his first combat. He remained with the 3/26, L Company through Sept 1967. He suffered two sniper wounds and was taken to Okinawa out of Danang via Govt Air. He was wounded a total of three times, and awarded three Purple Hearts. At the end of his service, he was in H&S Bn, 8151 Brig Guard, in Camp Lejeune, NC. He came home in Jan of 1968. Two years later, he was killed.
My greatest wish is to find men who knew him well, and could teach me of the times in Vietnam. If you knew him, please respond. I would love the opportunity to speak with you. I have his service number and Social Security number, so if you know of a way I can locate men who served with him, please let me know... God bless you and all you have endured.
Thanks so much,
Georgia Watson
(813) 994-6245
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I participated in operations at Khe Sanh & Hill 881 when the shit hit the fan. My part was a very small one, and my memory of the specifics related to that and other battles is even less impressive. I served as a helicopter door gunner with Medium Marine Helicopter squadron 163 (HMM-163). We were the guys that had very large "evil eyes" painted on the nose of our choppers. During the battle of Hill 881, we were involved in missions such as insertions, extractions, medevacs, and re-supply. It has definitely been a long time.
Semper Fi
Aaron {Shakey Jake} Carter
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I was assigned to the Army's MACV-SOG operations in 1968, and I flew to Khe Sanh on the day the base was to be closed out by the 26th Marines. It was a simple admin mission for me to go to the SOG Camp at Khe Sanh. The Army helicopter pilot carrying me (I did not know his aviation unit) received an emergency medical dust off mission for a wounded Marine and deposited me (he ordered me off for good reason) on the nearest "safe" place on Hill 861. I spent what seemed like several hours there waiting for him to come back. I was never certain of where I was deposited until I read your description of those Hills (Jim Wodecki's). God bless the Corps! When I saw those young, brave and drawn faces on Hill 861, I knew why God made Marines.
Hugh Cox
hughcox@hughcox.com
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I had the privilege of serving at Khe Sanh, TDY to the 903rd Aero Medical Evacuation, Casualty Staging Unit from the 23rd of November 1967 to early on the morning of 29 January 1968 when I flew a load of patients out to Danang with a stop at Hue-Phu Bai. We moved all the patients out of Khe Sanh that got moved. At the time, there were some 5,000 Marines there and us 4 Air Force people. I still have a lot of pictures I took there. I guess we were too small a unit to ever get mentioned when it comes to Marine history. And since we were Air Force, I guess we didn't count, but I know in my heart that if it hadn't been for us, many Marines might have died or suffered unnecessarily. We did a good job, and I'm proud of my service there. May God bless all the men who served there, and long may Old Glory wave.
Semper Fi!
Ira D. Wilson,
Major, USAF, MSC, Retired
Austin TX
ED NOTE: You just made "our" history. And, thanks.
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I was with Alpha Company, 3rd Recon BN in the spring of 1967 at Khe Sanh. I recently was amazed to read a fairly accurate description on this Website of a Recon Insertion on 27Apr 67 in which I was WIA and our CH-46 crashed and burned after being hit by small arms fire. I was a member of Team BREAKER along with Cpl. Bob Guerra, "Doc" Miller and others. "Doc" was KIA just a couple weeks later when team BREAKER was ambushed on a Recon patrol near KSCB by a company of NVA. Also KIA during that action was L/CPL Sam Sharp from San Jose, CA. Sam and I shared the same hooch at Phu Bai and his loss, as well as that of the other members of that patrol, are detailed in a book entitled Never Without Heroes--A History of the Third Reconnaissance Battalion in Vietnam by Lawrence Vetter. I first went in-country with India Company, Third Battalion, 26th Marines. I haven't had contact with anyone from that unit in over 32 years. I also lost good friends from my platoon from I/3/26 at Khe Sanh including Big Tony DeCesare, Alexendar Scottie Chisholm and others. Not many knew this but "Scottie" was actually a citizen of Scotland who became subject to the draft when he entered this country in the mid '60s. I recall him telling me aboard the APA USS Lennewee on our way over that there were always two places he wanted to travel to from Scotland--the U.S. and Australia. He never made it to Australia and was drafted into the Marines in 1966. God Bless all these guys! If anyone wants to visit, I would be glad to hear from any old Mud Marines or Reconners.
Semper Fi
Richard Naske
Omaha NE
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Hello my fellow brothers! I spent time on 881 and 861 and then came down to KSCB later on. I was with B/1/26 and was ambushed and wounded 25 Feb 68 and medevaced out. Spent almost a full year in the hospital (age 18). Fun stuff! I don't remember too much, only the many patrols off the hills and many night ambush set-ups (so dark, couldn't see your hand in front of your face). It's a miracle we didn't get our clock cleaned sooner. We were out so far and with such small teams. You get so close to your buddies, just to have them either get wounded or die, and then never hear or see them again. I guess that's why I don't remember too much. Oh well, that's war and thank God its over! I really love the Corps and would not have missed it for the world, really believed in what we were all doing and that makes it right (we all did). Hope this message finds all you guys doing well. Take care.
Johnny Bellina
B CO I/26
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From: Joseph Scholle
Yes Ernie, that was I, Basic School Class 1-66. Got a new nickname in Vietnam at the start of Tet, "Crazy Joe." Started flight school in Pensacola Feb '66 and became an H-34 pilot. Flew with HMM-363 in-country Oct 67-68. Got "dinged" twice for my efforts but nothing serious, thank God. I just joined the Khe Sanh Veterans. I'm guessing that's where you got my E-MAIL address from since I just looked through the directory that arrived today and found your name, Sacramento, CA. How have you been doing? I hope that you made it through Nam without getting beat up, that you have a nice family, and the years have been kind. When were you at Khe Sanh? I flew there for the 1st time in late '67--even got to the outer hills a few times--and into early '68 when the siege was lifted. HMM-363 flew H-34's with a Red Lion in a white four-leaf clover. Maybe you remember seeing some of our "birds." Do you remember our Platoon Commander, then 1st Lt. John D. Carr of Maine? Believe it or not, I talked with him on a field phone at Dong Ha in 1968. I was in a bunker and heard a Major refer to a Major Carr at Cam Lo. I asked if that was John D. Carr and got an affirmative. Got him on line for me and we talked for few minutes. He remembered me for some reason. I just retired from DOD on Dec. 31, 2000. Counting my USMC time I did 33 years in DOD. If you ever get to the East Coast, be sure to give me a call or e-mail. I'm sure I can find a few cold beers somewhere!! Severna Park, MD is about 8 miles from Annapolis. Have you tried the USMC Vietnam Helicopter Assn website?
If you want to see a picture of old "dirty Joe" in country a little thinner than I am now and with more hair, click on Combat Photos, than scroll away down near the bottom to 2 Red Lion Pilots, click and there I am with our squadron Ops O, Major Salter. I'm sure you remember Tony Scenna from the Bronx, NY. He was in the next BOQ room from me; he flew a tour in Nam as a Bombardier Navigator in A-6's and then went to flight school and became a C-130 pilot. Great hearing from you!! Keep in touch from time to time.
Semper Fi
"Crazy, Dirty Joe"
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I was in the ABCCC, the Air Force Airborne command post, Hillsboro, which coordinated air support in the free fire box drawn around Khe Sanh from 0600 to 1800 each day. ("Moonbeam" worked the night shift.) I have never thought that I was really at Khe Sanh since we flew from Udorn, but have always had the greatest respect for those who were. We simply drew circles in the sky in our C-130 and talked to all the Tac Air that came to that neighborhood trying to hook them up with Forward Air Controllers who claimed to have targets. Our radio contact on the ground at Khe Sanh was "Jazzy." Anyone know anything about who did that job???
Thanks to all for what you did.
BWB
Bruce W. Bean
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Thank you for making this information available. It's nice after 32 years to confirm some memories and fill in some blanks for others that aren't so clear. I was in Mike 3/9 and engaged in fighting on 881S, 861, as well as occupying 881 for 40 days following our taking the hill and patrolling that area. I remember B-52 raids--they were so high that we never did see or hear them, but we watched as they accurately worked over the next ridgeline. I remember watching air strikes to the north so intense that it created a huge cloud that covered the horizon. I remember carrying the dead and wounded and intense small arms fire, etc. etc. I still have souvenirs from 881, a cartridge belt with the communist star on the buckle and a two-grenade pouch as well as an NVA entrenching tool. I took them from the bunker in the center of the top of the hill where the round trench was dug around a small tree that had been cut down and notched to accept their machine gun that they fired at our fighters coming in. I found the body of:. Cpl Robert Schley of Mike 3/3 up there. He was from Oregon, Wisconsin. I was in boot camp with him Plt. 360, San Diego, March of '66. I was beside Woody of Mike 3/9 when he was shot in the forehead on 861. I carried the radio for Lt. Kresty of 2nd PIt. I would like to hear from you if any of this is familiar.
Rick "Ira" Johnson M/3/9
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