UNIT HISTORY

INTRODUCTION

The Bonding of Warriors

By Clancy Matsuda

In July 1993, I was on a flight to attend the first reunion of Company E, 50th Infantry (Airborne)/75th Ranger -- the elite Long Range Patrol Company of the 9th Infantry Division during the Vietnam War.  Sitting next to me was an amiable gentleman who struck up a conversation by asking where I was going.  Conditioned by years of experience not to speak to civilians about my wartime service in Vietnam, I was reluctant to tell him the purpose of my trip.  He prodded me, and I soon found myself talking excitedly about E Company and my old comrades in arms.  It had been over 25 years since I commanded the unit.  I told him that I had not seen any of my fellow soldiers since then.  The antiwar sentiments that emerged from the war had discouraged us from keeping in touch, but finally a few remarkably resourceful troopers planned our first reunion and made it happen.  The businessman listened attentively and asked many questions about my experiences; as it turned out, we had a wonderful conversation.  When we landed and were about to part ways, he told me earnestly, "Tell the guys at your reunion thanks from a U.S. citizen."  I shook his hand warmly and thought to myself how far the nation had come in finally acknowledging the sacrifices of the soldiers who fought in Vietnam.

Our subsequent reunions have been special times of fellowship.  We have become a family of old soldiers, bonded with memories of our common experiences in service to our nation.  After our latest reunion in July of 2001, Jack DeLaney, one of the gallant warriors of 1967-68 eras, spoke of somehow recording those memories before they faded too dimly into the mist of a lengthening past.  Grievously, this highly admired soldier passed away on May 7, 2002; we had just started our history-recording journey.  Jack provided the poignant vision for this volume, but it was the men of E Company who made the vision a reality.  We invited them to contribute to the writing of our history by sharing their wartime stories with us. Many of them accepted despite having to carve out the time from their busy schedules to do so.  We discovered that our memories during the past three decades had indeed faded in certain areas.  However, the essence of our adventure remains in tact.

How was it that we were so profoundly changed by a war halfway around the globe?  The war in Vietnam -- the longest in American history -- was an outgrowth from the Cold War.  During this period of tension between the United States and the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, it was our government's policy to support any nation threatened by Communism.  South Vietnam, after its creation in 1954, appeared to be such a nation.  It was fighting an insurgency supported by Ho Chi Minh, the Communist leader in North Vietnam whose goal was to unite the two Vietnams through civil war.  Americans viewed South Vietnam as a "domino" whose fall would encourage Communist aggression elsewhere in the world.  Accordingly, the United States sent military advisers to assist the government of South Vietnam in its struggle against the North.  The job was anything but easy.  Whereas the government of South Vietnam was weak and corrupt, the North Vietnamese proved far more skilled, dedicated, and resilient than we had expected.

In August 1964, Congress passed the Tonkin Gulf Resolution at the prompting of President Lyndon B. Johnson.  This resolution invested Johnson with virtually unlimited power to wage War against the Communists in Vietnam.  The following year he committed the first of the major forces to fight there.  Dismally, there was no clear U.S. strategy for winning from the start.  Preoccupied with his "Great Society" agenda at home, Johnson was unwilling to divert the resources -- military, economic, and political -- necessary to wage the war effectively.  He deployed follow-on forces to Vietnam piecemeal and in too few numbers to be successful.  Moreover, he and his top advisers tried their best to deceive the American public about the prospects for victory.  Johnson hoped that the North Vietnamese leaders would be awed into submission by the escalating and destructive effects of American firepower; paradoxically, the Viet Cong and North Vietnam Army responded with determination.  The fundamental dissonance of American policy at the highest level had tragic consequences for the men who had to execute it on the battlefield.

Although the number of U.S. troops in Vietnam grew to almost half a million from 1965 through 1967, the overall military Campaign was inconclusive.  A major turning point occurred in January 1968 with the onset of the Tet Offensive.   Communist insurgents conducted bold attacks against South Vietnamese cities and towns; for a short time, they occupied the grounds of the U.S. embassy in Saigon.  The majority of Americans at home were shocked and outraged; they had up to now believed that the War was going well.  It did not matter that the Viet Cong ultimately failed in their offensive and suffered enormous losses.  American casualties remained high and the public realized the victory in Vietnam was not imminent.  With his Vietnam policy in shambles and support for the war crumbling, Johnson decided not to run for reelection.

Richard M. Nixon won the presidential election of 1968.  Within a few months, a gradual withdrawal of American troops was ordered.  Nixon's "Vietnamization" policy succeeded in reducing the number of U.S. troops, but much hard fighting remained.  After an allied invasion of Cambodia to eliminate enemy sanctuaries in April] 1970, antiwar demonstrations in the United States grew increasingly strident.  Tensions grew worse following the tragic shooting of student demonstrators at Kent State University in May and the adverse publicity surrounding the convictions in the My Lai court martial early the following year.  Even Vietnam veterans like John Kerry, who later became an U.S. Senator from Massachusetts, added their voices to the chorus of dissent.  Kerry joined an organization called "Vietnam Veterans Against the War" and testified before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee in April 1971 to express the group's opposition.  Antiwar protesters vigorously projected their loss of faith in their government, and they directed their frustration and anger increasingly at the military.

The war finally ended for the United States in March 1973, following a cease-fire agreement between the two sides in January.  Nonetheless, the civil war in Vietnam continued.  For the next two years, the North built up its power in the South in preparation for a final offensive that came in early 1975.  A North Vietnamese victory was assured when Congress refused to provide direct military assistance to South Vietnam despite the entreaties of President Gerald Ford.  Americans had enough of the war in Vietnam; even the specter of a Communist victory could not change their minds.

For many soldiers who faithfully answered the call to military service, returning home from Vietnam was full of painful and bitter memories.  Antiwar radicals vilified them as mindless automatons and evil executors of a corrupt national policy.  They labeled veterans as "baby killers" and spit at them as they traveled home in uniform.  These insults were tormenting to the men who went to Vietnam intent on doing their duty and expecting the support of their nation.  They tucked away the whole experience in the deep compartments of their minds for many years.

The saga of E Company began unfolding long before the disappointing outcome of the war could be discerned.  On February 1, 1966, the 9th Infantry Division was activated at Fort Riley, Kansas under the command of Major General George S. Eckhardt.  The division trained for ten months and then began its deployment to Vietnam in December.  While at Fort Riley, Kansas, the Rangers of E Company approached their training with a sober diligence born of the knowledge that they soon would test their combat skills in the crucible of war.  In both training and combat, they did their duty magnificently.  I consider myself blessed and honored to have been associated with them.  Their shining examples of courage, competence, and selfless service will forever obliterate in my mind the shadow that the Vietnam War cast on the national psyche.  Many of those examples will be evident in the pages that follow.

Together we faced chaotic and near-death situations, but these challenges brought out the best in our spirit.  Our shared experiences made us more than just friends and fellow soldiers.  Something amazing happened in the process of sharing the unique experience of training, fighting, and facing death together -- we bonded like brothers.  Despite the constant adversity, nothing seemed impossible when one had the support of warrior brothers on every side.  Thus, it was that the war in Vietnam became a defining experience in the lives of E Company soldiers.

In the past few years I have read with interest about the exploits of the Rangers and special operations units in a variety of conflicts: World War II, Korean and Vietnam wars, Iran hostage rescue mission, Grenada and Panama operations, the Gulf War, Battle for Mogadishu, and the current war in Afghanistan.  In reading their stories, I have been drawn to the ethos that is common to all American commandos.  They cherish the values of honor, valor, tenacity, teamwork, sacrifice, discipline, loyalty, steadfastness, and selflessness.  While they focus on the mission and are oblivious to danger and death during battle, they maintain an incredibly strong commitment to each other.  Rangers would not think of leaving a buddy behind -- no one is more important to them than their comrades.  In every conflict, they have acquitted themselves well because of their devotion to the mission and to each other.  A phenomenon that results from these priorities is the special bonding among the combatants into a unique brotherhood that carries on for a lifetime.

The men of Co E can rest assured that they have upheld the proud traditions of their Ranger brothers of other eras.  Admittedly there have been times when I viewed with envy the exploits of the Rangers during World War II and other conflicts that the nation enthusiastically supported; it is tempting to wish that we had been born into a different era.  However, those choices are not ours to make.  We must do our duty the best we can when called.

Our story is not about perfect human beings carrying out our duties without flaw.  We made mistakes; we had our weak moments; we made decisions and did things which we wish we could have changed; we lived by the code of “kill or be killed.”  Ours was a lifestyle, which involved a mixture of reckless abandonment, combat proficiency, and teamwork under perilous situations.

Because of the unpopularity of the war, our impulse to renew the bonds of brotherhood laid dormant for over two decades after we returned home from Vietnam.  Many Americans wanted to purge the war from their memories, but the Rangers of E Company vowed that we would never forget.  Our reunions rekindled the spirit of camaraderie; they have become a special time and a place where we can grieve together over the loss of our comrades.  During these gatherings, we have been reminded of the role that our families played in giving us strength to endure and the love to console.  We and our fallen comrades have been blessed with wives, children, parents, brothers, sisters, nieces, and nephews who serve as a community to whom our sacrifices and experiences matter.  Combatants in war and combat veterans after the war yearn subconsciously for solidarity.

Reflecting on the American experience in Vietnam, former Secretary of State Henry Kissinger called it "an appallingly conducted war, an American disaster, self-inflicted, and unnecessary."  We are not statesmen; our story is not meant to find answers about why the United States fought in Vietnam.  Rather, what we hope to convey to the readers of this book is the message that we were a band of gallant warriors who contributed some of our finest hours for our country.  We fought a noble fight with skill and dignity; in the process, we demonstrated our love for America, the American people, and especially the comrades who served along side of us.  That is all the nation can ask of its soldiers.

The Early Years (1966-1967) by Rick Stetson

In September 1965, Major General (MG) George S. Eckhardt reported to Fort Riley, Kansas to prepare for the activation of the 9th Infantry Division.  Known as the Old Reliables, the division earned seven campaign streamers during World War II as it fought in Africa, Sicily, Normandy and the Ardennes, suffering 23,277 casualties, including 8,550 killed in action.  It was a division the Army could depend on and in March 1945, the 2nd Battalion 47th Infantry became the first Allied unit to enter Germany when it crossed the Rhine River on the Ludendorf Bridge.

General William Westmorland served with the 9th during WW II as the division's chief of staff and by 1965; he directed the massive troop buildup in the Republic of Vietnam.  As the number of troops in Vietnam increased, so did the casualties.  In 1964, the Army lost 147 soldiers in what was to become the Vietnam War.  The following year the total would climb to 1079 with 234 of the soldiers killed in action during a four-day battle fought by the 1st Cavalry Division in the Ia Drang Valley.  The war against a determined enemy was heating up and General Westmorland needed additional troops.  The call went out to activate his old WW II outfit, the 9th Infantry Division.

The cover of the March 1966 Army Digest featured a painting showing soldiers standing beneath a 9th Division flag.  The top half of the flag was red, the bottom half blue, with an octofoil in the center.  The octofoil, which was the division's shoulder patch and often called "the cookie" by the soldiers who wore it, consisted of eight foils surrounding a white circle that in heraldic times symbolized a son being surrounded by four brothers.  The Digest's lead article was entitled, "9th Division Activated" and it traced the history of the Old Reliables.  It also included a description of Fort Riley, a 51,091 acre post that dated back to 1852 when it was used by the cavalry to provide protection for the wagon trains heading west. Brevet Major General George A. Custer had been stationed there with the 7th Cavalry Regiment and until 1946; the post had served as the home of the Army Cavalry School.  The post's leisurely-paced lifestyle, which in the old days had included Sunday morning horseback hunts, resulted in those stationed there to be considered living "the life of Riley."  In 1966, the last official cavalry horse, Chief, still resided on the post and was listed on the books as official government property.  The horse was tended to by a sergeant and enjoyed his own pasture while becoming a popular attraction for visitors to the post.

Fort Riley, according to the Army Digest, "had all the natural elements conductive to hardening men for combat - hot in the summer, cold in winter, rough terrain, and steep hills."  Although the destination of the 9th was not announced when the division was activated on Feb 1, 1966, a hint of a possible future location was given during a visit by Army Chief of Staff General Harold K. Johnson who "likened areas of the post to portions of Vietnam."

The 9th Division was the first Army unit to be organized and trained for overseas deployment to a combat theater since WW II.  When the 9th was activated at Fort Bragg, North Carolina on August 1, 1940, the division had over two years to train before being sent to North Africa in November 1942 as part of Operation Torch.  In 1966, only seven months would pass from the time the first soldiers arrived for basic training to when the first division units would arrive in a combat zone and just one year from activation, the entire 9th Division would move from Fort Riley, Kansas to the Republic of Vietnam.

The Army used the draft to provide the privates needed to fill the newly activated 9th Infantry Division.  The critical need was for non-commissioned officers (NCOs) and officers and many were assigned to the division from units in Europe and Korea.  To meet the increased need for platoon leaders (2nd lieutenants) the Army had the Infantry Officers Candidate School (OCS) at Fort Benning, Georgia and the Artillery OCS at Fort Sill, Oklahoma.  In 1965, the Army added a second OCS battalion at Fort Benning while opening additional officer candidate schools at Fort Belvoir, Virginia (engineers), Fort Gordon, Georgia (signal corps) and Fort Knox, Kentucky (armor.)

Winslow "Rick" Stetson was a member of the first infantry Officer Candidate School (OCS) class to graduate from Fort Benning in 1966.  As he and his classmates walked across the stage to receive their commissions, many had orders for their first assignment, Fort Riley, Kansas and the 9th Infantry Division.  Before reporting to Fort Riley, some of the new lieutenants, including Stetson, would complete Airborne and Ranger school.

When he arrived at Fort Riley in mid April, he was assigned as a platoon leader with Charlie Company, 3rd Battalion, 47th Infantry.  Preparations were already underway to receive the basic trainees who were scheduled to arrive in May.  Barracks had to be prepared, lesson plans written, and firing ranges located.  When the trainees arrived the week of May15, 1966, the division was ready.

A band played as the new privates stepped off the buses and they didn't even have to carry their own bags.  Instead, they were welcomed with speeches, served a hot meal, and shown to beds that were already made.  Stationary, stamped envelopes and pencils were provided and the soldiers were told they had to write home.  Their company commanders would also write letters to parents saying that their "New Reliable," as the trainees were called, had arrived safely at Fort Riley.  In Charlie Company, Stetson helped welcome 221 of the division's new soldiers.  Most were 19 or 20 years old and only two had enlisted in the Army.  The rest were draftees.

The company commander made it clear the men would see combat in the future but told them they would receive the best training in the world to prepare for it.  When he issued his men their weapons, Stetson told them they had just met the best friend they would have in the military.  The soldiers appeared to be a bit apprehensive but they understood why they were there and were eager to learn.

The new recruits were allowed to call home and many said the Army, so far at least, was not what they had been led to believe by their fathers and uncles.  Everything was well organized, they had decent barracks to sleep in and they got enough to eat.  One soldier was overheard talking to his mother on the telephone and saying, "We had fresh salad tonight with real cucumbers in it, just like you make."

On Saturday, May 21, 1966, Major General Eckhart presented the 47th Infantry its battalion colors in an impressive ceremony.  Bands played, flags rippled in the breeze and jets screamed overhead at low level, as the colors were passed. The New Reliables, with just two days instruction in marching, did their best to handle their weapons and keep in step.  The officers and NCOs were proud of their new soldiers.  Their leaders knew, however, that a lot of serious training had to take place in the months ahead for these were the soldiers who would accompany them into combat.

After basic training was completed, the units immediately began Advanced Infantry Training (AIT).  Soldiers requiring training in specialized areas such as signal or medical were sent off for additional schooling.  The infantry AIT conducted at Fort Riley would prepare the soldiers to work together in squads, platoons and companies.

In July, Stetson and other 9th Division officers and NCOs received orders for Jungle Warfare School in Panama.  By then, it was common knowledge the 9th was headed for combat in a tropical environment and Stetson's battalion commander, LTC Lucien Buldoc, told him he would be expected to give classes on what he learned at Jungle School when he returned. The first class he taught after attending the school was jungle hygiene and it was presented to the battalion's officers so they might, as his lesson plan stated, "Better prepare their units to live and fight in a jungle environment."

Shortly after returning from Jungle School, Stetson was transferred to Company E, 3/47th as the 106mm recoilless rifle anti-tank platoon leader.  With Allied forces possessing complete air superiority over Vietnam, Stetson felt the chances of encountering enemy armor would be next to none and he was convinced he had been given one of the least important jobs in the entire division.  He was especially envious of a non-Ranger-qualified friend who had been given command of the battalion's recon platoon.  Nevertheless, he tried to make the best of the situation and began training his platoon in the art of engaging enemy armor.

Stetson's faith in the Army's assignment process was restored during the third week in October when he received word to report to division headquarters.  There he was introduced to 2nd Lieutenant (2LT) Edwin Garrison, an airborne Ranger qualified Infantry OCS graduate, who was serving as a platoon leader with Company C, 4/39th.  The two officers were told they had been hand picked to help form a new unit the 9th Infantry Division was creating called a Long Range Patrol Detachment (LRPD).  Similar units were operating with success in Vietnam and had enhanced the intelligence gathering capabilities of American units.  They were instructed to begin an immediate search for volunteers and that the unit would undergo training in Panama before departing for Vietnam.

The 1st Cavalry Division had demonstrated the value of helicopter assets in locating and fighting an elusive enemy in Vietnam.  It was determined that since the long range patrols would be inserted and extracted deep in enemy territory, a close working relationship with an aviation unit was essential.  The decision was made to attach the 9th Division long range patrol to D Troop, 3/5 Cavalry.  Major William Kahler commanded D Troop, 3/5 Cavalry.  The aviation unit consisted of an aero scout platoon with nine OH-23G observation aircraft, nine aviators and nine crew chiefs; an aero rifle platoon with five U14-ID Hueys, 10 aviators, 10 crew chiefs and 10 door gunners; an aero weapons platoon with 10 UH-1C aircraft armed with XX-21 and M-5 weapons systems (mini guns and grenade launchers) 20 pilots, 10 crew chiefs and 10 door gunners; a maintenance platoon with one UH-ID aircraft, 2 pilots plus a crew chief, door gunners, and mechanics; a headquarters section, and an organic infantry platoon with 1 officer and 41 enlisted soldiers.

When Garrison and Stetson reported to the Camp Funston area of Fort Riley to meet Major Kahler, they found D Troop housed in WW II-era barracks.  The bare wooden walls and dim lighting was a step back in time from the facilities the two officers had enjoyed with their infantry battalions in the Custer Hill portion of the post but they realized that with a two-week trip to Panama plus Christmas leave, there would not be a lot of time spent in the drafty barracks at Camp Funston.

Major Kahler wasn't sure what to do with the two young infantry lieutenants who had reported to him.  The D Troop commander was in the midst of trying to make arrangements to ship his pilots, soldiers, aircraft and equipment overseas when he was informed that he would have to provide for a platoon of LRRPs.  He offered an area where the men could be housed but said there were no aircraft available for training.  D Troop's helicopters would arrive from Texas on December 1st and would be shipped to the West Coast on December 15th which meant that the operating procedures for the two units would have to be worked out once they arrived in Vietnam.

The two officers had to move fast to recruit new members as the unit was scheduled to depart for the Canal Zone on 16 November.  They would have to recruit, interview and select their personnel in less than a month.  When the 1st Brigade of the 101st Airborne Division formed a long range patrol detachment in Vietnam, 337 soldiers were interviewed and just 32 volunteers were selected for the unit.  The 9th Division would select only volunteers but due to the limited amount of time, the officers would have to accept just about any soldier willing to volunteer for the long range patrol.

The word went out for volunteers.  Dave Moss joined out of Ed Garrison's former platoon in C Company, 4/39th.  Tom Lindly was an artilleryman and heard about the long range patrol from his first sergeant in the 11th Artillery.  His job was to deliver artillery rounds and since his ammunition section had the most men, he was told to submit three names as candidates for the LRRPs.  He was the only one from his unit to volunteer so he typed his own transfer request and hand carried it to the acting battery commander, then to the battalion commander, and up to division where it was approved. Lindly joined the Army in 1956 and had more time in grade than most of the volunteers for the unit.  He was one of the few who did not possess an infantry military occupational skill (MOS). Mike Patrick graduated in the top of the jungle warfare class and was one of the first LRRPs to receive the Combat Infantryman Badge (CIB). Bob Hernandez was a meat cutter before being drafted and would prove to be one of the top early team leaders. Ray hulin was a cowboy from Texas and one of the first to make contact with the enemy.

When the interviews were completed, Stetson and Garrison selected 34 volunteers from a cross section of the 9th Division: 11 were from the 39th Infantry, 10 from the 47th Infantry, 9 from the 60th Infantry, and 2 from the artillery, 1 from the signal battalion and 1 from the 9th Admin Company.

The officers tried to incorporate the maximum amount of training into the brief period before the group would depart to Panama.  Stetson emphasized physical training and required the soldiers to perform early morning runs before breakfast. The Kansas winter wind chill caused several of the men to become sick and the physical training was modified to insure everyone would be in good enough health to make it to the Jungle Warfare School.

When John Kennedy was president, he authorized the Special Forces to wear a green beret.  Their black berets identified instructors at the Army’s Ranger School.  While undergoing training at Fort Benning, Ed Garrison noticed some visiting German officers wearing berets.  He decided that the members of the 9th Division's long range patrol needed a distinctive look.  One day he asked Stetson if he thought the men in the unit could wear a black beret.  Stetson gave him the go-ahead to design a flash for the beret.  Garrison immediately drew one up and had it produced at a local tailor shop.  The berets were an instant hit with the men who caused double takes wherever they went on post.  One day Stetson was stopped by a staff officer and asked who had given authorization to wear the black berets.  "No one," Stetson replied. "We just did it ourselves."  The officer just frowned and walked off.

When it was possible to get a weekend pass, some of the men would load up and take an overnight trip to Kansas City.  The group usually included Ed Garrison, two former members of his old C Company platoon, Dave Moss and Stephen Noonan, along with Thomas Kloack and Don "Squeak" Ferraro.  To cut costs, they would all share a room in a hotel and then spend the evening chasing young ladies attending a local airline stewardess school.  Early Monday morning, Stetson would have the group fall out for PT formation and he was always amazed how the men who had been on pass could manage to run and exercise when they had so little sleep over the weekend.

On November 17th, two long range patrol officers and 44 enlisted soldiers (11 were members of D Troop's aero rifle platoon) boarded a plane for a trip to Charleston Air Force Base.  They were scheduled to depart on November 19th on flight UKA 14-79A for Panama.  The brief layover in Charleston enabled the group to see the sights along the historic harbor and enjoy a couple of good meals before heading to the tropics.  Their flight was on board an Air Force C-97 Stratofreighter which cruised at 225 knots over the crystal-blue waters of the Caribbean Sea.  The Air Force crew was accommodating during the SV 2-hour flight and allowed some of the men to visit the cockpit to view the instruments and listen to radio traffic.

Jungle Warfare School Panama Unit Orders 63 2 December 1966

STETSON, Winslow A. 2LT 05329276 885 Jungle Expert

GARRISON, Edwin B. 2LT 05329645 930 Jungle Expert

BROWN, George R. PSG RA18660420 855 Jungle Expert

SHAFFER, Roland H. PVT US56425370 828 Jungle Expert

SMITH, Patrick D. PVT US53438230 775 Completion

SOUZA, John P. PVT US56425312 805 Jungle Expert

FERRARO, Don L. PVT US56428380 935 Jungle Expert

PATRICK, Michael P. PVT US55896492 926 Jungle Expert

ALVEAR, Alfred PVT US54381809 843 Jungle Expert

KLOACK, Thomas R. SP4 US55896495 928 Jungle Expert

CHEEK, Eddie W. SP5 RA14565399 754 Completion

JOHNSON, James W. PFC US53442647 732 Completion

HUGHES, David P. PFC US55841775 753 Completion

HILL, Richard L. PVT US56425421 734 Completion

SCOTT, Beldon L. PVT US51606579 734 Completion

MEEKS, James R. SSG RA14805621 874 Jungle Expert

MOSS, David B. PFC US53443037 870 Jungle Expert

HULIN, Raymond A. PFC US54386038 923 Jungle Expert

NOONAN, Stephen D. PFC US51604287 864 Jungle Expert

COX, John S. PFC US53440608 924 Jungle Expert

REESE, Sammy L. PFC US53432530 907 Jungle Expert

HERNANDEZ, Robert PFC US56424309 839 Jungle Expert

KULCAVAGE, Edward PFC US51571308 967 Jungle Expert

SPEAKER, Timothy D. PVT US51822878 842 Jungle Expert

LAPLAUNT, James D. G. SP4 RA17677773 815 Jungle Expert

PRAY, Vern L. SGT RA18639539 917 Jungle Expert

PITTS, Robert E. SSG RA13648016 850 Jungle Expert

KELLER, Norman A. PVT US51607068 869 Jungle Expert

OLTZ, Fred E. PFC RA16837657 854 Jungle Expert

ROSS, Stephen J. PFC US56410299 849 Jungle Expert

JENKINS, Freddie D. PFC US54381832 852 Jungle Expert

HERRERA, John SSG RA18225528 893 Jungle Expert

COONROD, Lawrence W. PVT US55846249 848 Jungle Expert

HOWELL, William H. SP5 US52666947 815 Jungle Expert

DIBIASE, Benny PFC US51607159 807 Jungle Expert

JOHNSON, Lon C. SP4 US55850458 890 Jungle Expert

JOHNSON, Billy R. SGT RA19597064 822 Jungle Expert

STENMO, John A. PFC US55643456 873 Jungle Expert

ZIGLAR, Kenneth O. PFC US52668913 831 Jungle Expert

HALSEY, Richard W. PVT US54800609 835 Jungle Expert

O'NEAL, Joe C. CPL RA54339392 837 Jungle Expert

ADAMS, Charlie E. SSG RA14438026 880 Jungle Expert

AMES, Gerald E. SGT RA11378084 878 Jungle Expert

ALSTOR, Joseph A. PFC US51600640 871 Jungle Expert

PRANGER, Paul F. PFC RA16643842 865 Jungle Expert

WALLS, Robert L. Jr. PFC US42676717 834 Jungle Expert

When they landed in the Canal Zone, the group boarded several military buses that would transport them to Fort Sherman, the site of the Army's Jungle Warfare School.  The men wondered why metal bars covered the windows and were told it was for protection in case any of the locals decided to throw a brick at the bus.  Tension between the Panamanians and the Americans had escalated and the soldiers were warned to be especially cautious around the local police if they visited the nearby town of Colon.  Nicknamed "white mice" because of their distinctive white helmets, the police had a reputation for throwing American soldiers in jail for the slightest violations.

Fort Sherman was a beautiful, tranquil base located on the Atlantic side of the Canal Zone.  The Army had started jungle warfare training in the vicinity of Fort Sherman during WW II to prepare soldiers to fight on islands in the Pacific Theater. The 23,000-acre post had extensive training areas with single and double canopy jungle covering rugged hills, mangrove swamps and river tributaries.  The soldiers were housed in large three-story masonry barracks with wide screened windows that allowed the sound of waves lapping the nearby beach to enter the sleeping quarters in the quiet of the evenings.

The soldiers were divided into five-man teams and began their two-week period of instruction by members of the school's Jungle Operations Committee.  Classes were given on subjects such as jungle living, land navigation, and the identification of local plants and animals.  Tropical fruits such as bananas and coconuts were tasted and the instructors even demonstrated how snakes could be cooked and offered samples of the reptile meat.  The students were cautioned to be careful what they grabbed hold of when sliding down the side of a muddy hill at night.  The region was covered with a palm tree notorious for its long, slender needles that would easily break off in the skin.  Some of the soldiers would discover tips of the needles still buried just below the surface of their skin years after going through Jungle School, a reminder of their stay in Panama.

The students carried machetes and were shown how to chop down poles and use vines to lash them together and form a sleeping platform three feet off the ground and strong enough to support five team members.  Palm leaves were thatched to make a roof that offered some protection from the daily thunderstorms.  Late one night, a loud creaking sound was heard and then a thud as one of the sleeping platforms broke apart spilling a team onto the ground.  Despite the increased chances of encountering snakes and insects, the exhausted men finished the night sleeping where they fell rather than rebuild their structure.

The survival instruction included a practical exercise on how to cook a chicken by burying it in the ground, covering it with dirt and then building a fire over it.  Each team was given a chicken that they had to kill and cook.  After the allotted period of time the coals were brushed aside, the chicken dug out and the feathers were easily pulled off the bird.  The hungry team members enjoyed the tender and delicious meat for their evening meal.  The next morning, however, the sound of a lone chicken could be heard clucking in the jungle.  The men all wondered which team did not have the heart to kill its meal.

River crossing operations were conducted on the muddy Chagres River.  A town once existed on the banks of the Chagres called Little America.  It was a stopping off point for prospectors cutting across the Panama on their way to California in search of gold.  The town was as wild as any in the Old West to include frequent shootings, but instead of burying the bodies, they were tossed into the river where they would be eaten by the crocodiles.  The instructors relished emphasizing the part about the crocodiles and the reptiles were in the minds of many of the men as they were told they would have to construct a poncho raft and swim it across the river.  They were divided into two-man teams where they cut and lashed poles together, bound a poncho on top and then removed their boots, trousers and fatigue jackets and placed them on their rafts.  John Stenmo, one of the Doughboys in the group, watched as one of the LRRP rafts came apart in the middle of the river.  With their clothing on the bottom of the river, the long range patrol team had to go through the remainder of the day's training, including a slide for life, wearing nothing but their boxer shorts.

Most of the privates going through Jungle School were spending Thanksgiving away from home for the first time.  The Army always tried to ease the loneliness by having its mess halls go all out in preparing a Thanksgiving dinner.  Even in Panama, the men enjoyed turkey with all the trimmings.  When they were able to obtain a pass to Colon, all made it back to Fort Sherman in time for lights out and the local police detained no soldiers.

The NCO club would have bands play Panamanian dance music and several of the men jumped on stage to help play the bongo drums.  With the beach just yards away from the barracks, it was inevitable that beer parties and cookouts would be held under the palm trees.  The students thought Fort Sherman was one of the best-kept secrets in the Army but there were always subtle reminders that their fun days in the tropics were numbered.  One was a haunting song by Jim Reeves that received a lot of play on a jukebox located in one of the barracks.  Entitled "Distant Drums," it told of a soldier about to go off to war saying to his sweetheart, "Marry me, let's not wait. Let us share all the time we can before it is too late. Love me now for now is all the time there may be."

The men progressed through the course and accumulated points as they passed various tests.  The goal was to score at least 800 points and earn the rating of Jungle Expert that entitled the soldier to wear a circular blue patch with a sailing ship on it under the words "Jungle Expert."  Those scoring from 700-799 points earned a certificate of successful completion and anyone scoring below 700 received a certificate of attendance.  A graduation ceremony was held at the completion of the course with almost all the group from Fort Riley qualifying as jungle experts.

Since they were just weeks away from departing for Vietnam, Stetson and Garrison had asked for and received permission to remain in Panama several days after the course was over for additional training.  The tropical Canal Zone climate was much closer to what they would find in Vietnam than the weather back at Fort Riley and the jungle offered excellent opportunities for improving their patrolling skills. 

One training exercise they planned was a night ambush.  The officers split everyone into two groups with Garrison and half the men being dropped by truck about five miles from Fort Sherman.  Stetson and his men were taken to a point somewhere in between.  The plan was for Garrison's patrol to move down the road at night and walk into an ambush.  Stetson arranged his men in an ambush position, set out his security, and waited.  Morning came and there was no sign of Garrison's patrol so Stetson and his men hiked back to post only to find Garrison and his men already there.  They had walked unnoticed right past the sleeping ambush patrol.

The men had worked hard in Panama and Fort Sherman's cadre had provided the group excellent support during their additional training.  The jungle conditions gave the men a realistic idea of what to expect when they arrived in Vietnam. While they were in Panama, Special Orders Number 250 was cut back at Fort Riley assigning two officers and 33 soldiers to Troop D, 3d Squadron, 5th Cavalry for "deployment, rations, quarters and administration of military justice."  When they returned to Fort Riley, however, 14 of the men decided to ask for reassignment back to their original units.  Apparently, spending nights sleeping on the ground in the jungle (no platforms would be built in Vietnam) did not appeal to some as much as they once thought.

As the small, twin-engine passenger plane landed in Kansas, Stetson asked one of the stewardesses for her microphone and "welcomed" the passengers to "beautiful Fort Riley."  He could see several soldiers in the darkened plane shivering while huddled under blankets.  They had caught a tropical sickness and after being acclimated to the hot, humid climate of Panama, were about to be blasted by a bitter cold, four-degree Kansas night.  Private First Class (PFC) Dave Moss was one of the sick passengers and would spend a week recovering in an Army hospital.  PFC Raymond Hulin was another.  Hulin was from Port Arthur, Texas and had ridden the rodeo circuit before being drafted.  A quiet, true cowboy-type individual, Hulin was experienced in giving animal shots and had with him a hypodermic needle designed for horses.  He filled it with penicillin and tried to convince Moss that he needed a shot.  Moss politely declined the offer while Hulin injected himself in the hip.  Within a day or two Hulin was better while Moss was sent to the hospital.

Captain James L. Tedrick, a 27 year old armor officer from Casey, Illinois took command of the long range patrol in December 1966.  He was a graduate of the United States Military Academy (West Point) class of 1961 and came to the 9th Division from Fort Knox where he had completed the advanced course at the Armor School.  Prior to that, he had served four years in Germany with the 14th Armored Cavalry Regiment.  His new unit would also be operating with a cavalry outfit (the 3/5 Cavalry) but instead of tanks and armored personnel carriers; his men would be riding helicopters as the primary means of transportation.  Captain Tedrick was proud of his armor background and still wore tanker boots, distinctive by their straps that wrapped around the boot instead of laces.  His West Point background gave him contacts in division headquarters that were useful in arranging accommodations for the unit once it arrived in Vietnam.

It was obvious to anyone passing by Fort Riley, Kansas in December 1966 that the 9th Division was on the move.  Miles of freight trains with flat cars loaded down with tanks, artillery howitzers, dump trucks, and all the other wheeled and tracked equipment of an infantry division plus a seeming endless stream of CONEX containers (large metal shipping boxes) holding everything from tents to weapons.  As the men of the long range patrol detachment prepared to head home on Christmas leave, the December 19, 1966 edition of the Chicago Daily News carried a photo showing soldiers wading ashore behind the American flag and division colors.  The caption read, "MG George Eckhart, commander of the US 9th Infantry Division, leads a vanguard of troops ashore at Vung Tau, South Vietnam.  The division, called "the Old Reliables," raises the number of fighting men in South Vietnam to 372,000."

While most of the division was transported by ship across the Pacific Ocean, the long range patrol divided into two groups to make the trip by air.  Captain Tedrick flew ahead with the advance party leaving Stetson and Garrison in charge.  Stetson's group departed early one cold January morning on an Air Force C-141 for the 30-hour flight to South Vietnam. Garrison took the remaining members of the unit the following evening aboard a C-130, a prop-driven aircraft that had been outfitted for medical transport.  Litters that had carried wounded soldiers back to the States offered the men a place to sleep during the long trip.  The men were fed seven breakfasts as the plane hopped from Kansas to San Diego, Hawaii, Wake Island, Guam, and the Philippine Islands and on to Bien Hoa Airbase in Vietnam.

The C-141, a four-engine windowless jet with canvas seats that faced backwards, flew a more northern route to Southeast Asia.  The men were allowed to stretch their legs as the plane refueled in Alaska and then again in Japan.  The C-141's cabin door had one small porthole-sized window that the men took turns peering out as they passed by the snow-capped peak of Mount Fujiyama.  When the plane began its descent over Vietnam, the men again took turns looking out the small window to get the first look at the country where they would spend the next year.  Down below, they saw lush, green vegetation along with rice paddies crisscrossed by small dikes.  The patrol members knew that in a very short period of time they would be covering that terrain on foot.

The first sensation upon stepping out of the aircraft was a stifling blast of heat that caused everyone to begin sweating immediately.  After some in-process briefings, the conversion of American dollars into military payment certificates (MPCs) and the issuing of their weapons, ammo, helmets, flack vests and web gear, the men were loaded into the back of a couple of two and a half ton trucks for the ride from Tan Son Nhut Airport to Bearcat, the 9th Division's base camp.  The road to Bearcat was narrow and filled with numerous Lambretta scooters that would sputter about carrying either two Americans or five Vietnamese.  They rode through small villages and past scores of children playing by the roadside.  The patrol members stood alert in the backs of the trucks with their fingers on the triggers of their weapons which probably amused the drivers who had been in country for awhile.  They did notice a jet dropping bombs on a distant target but the ride to Bearcat was made without incident.

When the patrol members arrived at Bearcat, they found the base camp to be a flurry of activity.  Buildings were being constructed in every part of the sprawling base that was covered by a cloud of red dust.  Occasionally, oil would be sprayed on the dirt roads to reduce the dust but driving on a fresh coat of oil was like driving on a sheet of ice.  The nose was assaulted by various odors: from the oil on the roads to the JP-4 fuel of the helicopters.  The worst smell of all was from the billowing clouds of foul-smelling dark smoke coming from behind the latrines where soldiers on a true “shit detail” were burning the contents.

The noise level during the day was constant.  The hammering and sawing of construction crews, vehicles, especially the clanking sound produced by the tracks of tanks and personnel carriers, and always the "whop, whop, whop" of helicopters taking off and coming in for landings.  Occasionally, jets would sweep low outside the perimeter adding to the noise level. At night things would quiet somewhat making the sound produced by a nervous machine gunner opening up from his bunker at shadows in the jungle's edge all the more noticeable.  Frequently, loud booms would punctuate the stillness of the night when artillery gunners would send harassing and interdictory (H&I) fire crashing into distant parts of the jungle to disrupt an enemy who liked to move at night.

When the long range patrol first arrived in country, the men were housed in General-Purpose (GP) medium tents with the three officers sharing a GP small.  The noon meals were C rations and some of the boxes had dates on them going back to 1945.  The living quarters were soon improved with the construction of shelters with wooden floors and sides with a large canvas tent thrown over the top for a roof.  Hot and uncomfortable during the day, the living quarters became livable during the night when temperatures would drop.  The men slept on canvas cots covered with mosquito netting.  Usually, a single poncho liner was all that was needed to keep warm at night.

The LRRP officers were billeted with the pilots of D Troop and it served to strengthen the bond between the two units. Stetson bunked with pilots like 1LT Stan Koch who flew observation helicopters (call sign, Spooks); 1LT Jim Joyce and Warrant Officer (WO1) Gary Driggers, gunships (Crusaders); and WO1 Bob Chambless, slicks (Long Knives).  The cots were pushed closer together in the back of the tent to leave space near the doorway that was used as a small sitting area.  They built a bar, painted it red and in keeping with aviation theme, called the tent “The Red Bar Inn.” 

Soft drinks and Philippine beer was sold but before electricity was provided, each can was cooled by rolling it for several minutes on a block of ice.  Once the tent had power, a small television was installed on the bar, a refrigerator was added, and as the officers returned from their R&R, an elaborate sound system was installed with tape deck, amplifier and large stereo speakers.  The tent became a popular gathering place for several of the pilots even as an officer's club was constructed across the street.  The enlisted soldiers also did whatever they could to improve their living quarters and many had sound systems to play their favorite music.  One of the Doughboys would start every morning with Hank Williams blasting out in his nasal twang, "Hey hey good lookin, whatcha got cookin, well how about cookin something up for me?"

The day after they arrived in country, Garrison and members of his group including Moss, Hulin, Private First Class (PFC) Ed Kulcavage, PFC Stephen Noonan, Private (PVT) Don Ferraro and PVT Lonnie Johnson flew to Nha Trang to attend the MACV Recondo School.  MACV Recondo School, operated by the 5th Special Forces Group, was one of the toughest, most realistic training programs designed by the Army.  Located adjacent to an airfield in Nha Trang, the compound was bordered on one side by the South China Sea and on the other, by rice paddies leading up to jungle covered, enemy controlled mountains.  

Special Forces combat veterans provided the instruction and the final exam consisted of conducting a recon patrol in the backyard of the enemy.  The three-week course tested mental and physical endurance.  The student's day began at 0500 with a 7-½ mile march while carrying a weapon, full combat gear and a backpack containing a 25-pound sandbag.  The march, conducted in one hour and 15 minutes, was followed by two climbs up a 30' rope ladder with the trips down on a knotted rope.  After breakfast, training was conducted for subjects such as first aid where students learned how to give shots and take blood, map reading, land navigation, and extraction using a McGuire Rig (a long rope with a seat at the end that could hold three soldiers at a time as they swung high over the countryside while moving at a speed of 90 knots.)

Instruction was also given in patrolling techniques, adjusting artillery fire and the familiarization of both friendly and enemy weapons.  All students were required to repel 120' from a hovering helicopter.  The friction from the brake rope as they descended, would often burn through their fatigue pants leaving a scar on their hip as a reminder of their Recondo School training.

As the training progressed at Recondo School, the remainder of the long range patrol began to experience operations in the field.  The 3/5 Cavalry helicopters were still en route so the patrol members hitched rides on a convoy of tracked vehicles. Stetson found a spot on the top of a tank recovery vehicle and felt a sense of awesome power while sitting behind a caliber .50 machine gun as the armored column picked up speed on the narrow country roads.  Tanks and armored personnel carriers sped through villages as children ran to the roadside waving at the soldiers who would toss them candy from their C ration boxes. 

When the Cavalry reached its destination, members of the long range patrol were tasked to help pull security.  They manned defensive positions on the perimeter.  A soldier, who had placed his rucksack on the edge of his foxhole, found it missing when the sun came up the next morning.  A bold VC or perhaps a nearby villager had crept up to the position in the middle of the night and made off with a supply of food, water, ammunition and clean socks.  The soldier was fortunate that his throat was not cut as he slept.

A mission was handed down for a long range patrol to perform overnight observation on a nearby road.  The men walked out from their bivouac position and soon found the dirt road leading to a nearby village.  The area was relatively open without a lot of concealment but the patrol did the best they could.  A curfew was in effect and traffic was not to be on the road at night.  Not long after darkness had set in, a man riding a motorized bike went sputtering past the position heading toward the village but it grew quiet after that.  In the middle of the night, several members of the patrol were awakened by the sound of a man moving through their position.  It was as if someone had stumbled upon the position by accident and was trying to move out of there as fast as possible.  The remaining hours of darkness were spent in apprehension that the person would return with company but nothing further was heard.  At first light, the patrol moved back to the safety of the armored cavalry’s position.

It was on the same operation that the long range patrol suffered its first casualty.  On January 29, 1967 one of the 3/5 Cavalry units had set up a near Phuoc Tuy.  A request came for a long range patrol to be sent out from the unit's position to gather intelligence about enemy activity in the area.  The patrol leader selected for the mission was Sergeant (SGT) Lynn Miles of Des Moines, Iowa who had celebrated his 20th birthday earlier that month.  Miles joined the unit in country and the young sergeant had made a good impression with his enthusiastic leadership.  John Cox was on the mission as were Bob Hernandez, Don Ferraro and Lawrence Coonrod.  As darkness descended, the patrol moved out from the cavalry's perimeter.  The men found a suitable spot to set up for the night but they immediately detected movement around their position.

SGT Miles whispered the situation on his radio and received instructions to move back to the cavalry's location.  The patrol decided each member would throw a grenade and make a run for it while the cavalry opened up by firing high with their weapons.  A tank crew was told to turn on a spotlight to serve as a beacon for the men coming in from the jungle.  Cox said that as soon as the grenades were thrown, "All hell broke loose".

The patrol tried to remain together as they moved back to the friendly position but a quick head count revealed that Coonrod was missing.  SGT Miles told Cox to get up on the tank and call a situation report back to the members of the long range patrol who were monitoring a radio.  When one of the tankers told Cox he wouldn't allow a private to use his radio, Sergeant Miles climbed up and took the handset.  At that instant, a Rocket Propelled Grenade (RPG) round hit, knocking Cox off the back of tank.  Cox was staggering to his feet when he noticed Miles laying a couple of feet away with a hole through his chest.  The VC continued to pour automatic rifle fire and RPG rounds into the cavalry's position and the tankers returned with a heavy volume of fire.  The firing suddenly ceased and the night became quiet.  It was then that Coonrod came crawling in.  He had been hit in the back.  A chill went through the members of the long range patrol who were monitoring the radios.  They heard the cavalry spell out one of the killed in action (KIA) as, "Mike, India, Lima, Echo, Sierra," the phonetic spelling of the Mile's last name.

Phillip Ponserella, the long range patrol's first sergeant, was livid at the loss of SOT Miles.  Long range patrols were not designed to be used as listening posts for friendly units and he was upset that Captain Tedrick had allowed the patrol to be given such a mission.  The patrols were designed to operate as their name indicated, at a long range and deep into enemy territory.  The arrival of D Troop's aircraft would soon give the patrols the capability of operating far away from friendly units.

The MACV Recondo training proved to be so valuable that as soon as Garrison and his men returned to Bearcat, a second group was sent. It consisted of Rick Stetson, John Cox, Raymond Hulin, Tom Kloak, William Haas, Bobby Hernandez, Richard Hill, Freddie Jenkins, Ed Kulcavage, Don Lachowitz, Sammie Reese and Ron Schaffer.  The Vietnamese holiday period, Tet, was going on when the next group from the 9th Division long range patrol reached Nha Trang.  Colored paper, cut to resemble lanterns was strung between buildings. Firecrackers were set off at all times of  night and day along with the firing of weapons by Vietnamese soldiers resulting in nervous flinching from the Americans each time a gun went off.

Soldiers from other American units and branches of the military as well as from Korea assembled to begin the training. They were introduced to their class leader, a Marine Recon 1st LT from Nantucket, Massachusetts who had been in Vietnam four months.  He would later become killed in action and receive a Silver Star for his heroic actions.  There were also several Korean officers from the ROK Tiger Division.  One had attended the Korean equivalent of West Point and spoke English, French, German and some Vietnamese.  Another had graduated from the Korean Army OCS.  Both were excellent officers and said that when Korean units went to the field, they did not practice much noise and light discipline because they wanted to make contact with the enemy.  The VC knew better and usually stayed clear of the hard-fighting Koreans.

The first day of the Lunar New Year, the men were able to taste real ice cream.  That was a treat because the ice cream they usually got was made from condensed milk that gave it an almost unpleasant taste, the only benefit being that it was cold. At breakfast, the condensed milk was equally unsatisfactory and it would only serve to spoil an otherwise good bowl of cereal.

One night after the soldiers had gone to bed in their MACV compound barracks, explosions rocked the area.  As a siren wailed, the students grabbed their weapons and ran outside to help man the perimeter.  Planes circled the area dropping parachute flares that threw a flickering light over the rice paddies.  Despite peering intently into the shadows, the men spotted no sign of the enemy.  Finally, an "all clear" signal was given and the men went back to bed.  The next morning it was revealed that VC sappers had penetrated the airfield, put satchel charges on some of the helicopters and then blew a hole in the gate as they left.  Three aircraft were destroyed and three were heavily damaged resulting in a shortage of gunships to provide cover for the student missions.

The use of Vietnamese laborers on Army bases was a common sight throughout Vietnam.  Vietnamese women would squat by a mound of dirt and fill sandbags while carrying on in animated conversation.  Usually there was considerably more talking than filling and the rate seemed to be one sandbag filled for every 30 minutes.  At Nha Trang, the Vietnamese were building a new mess hall at the Recondo School.  Most of the workers were women, small in stature, which carried bricks in two baskets suspended from long poles balanced on their shoulders.  They walked in a rhythmic motion so that everything swayed in unison.  The carpenters were mostly men.  They would squat on their haunches using only the most common of hand tools to make the doors and window frames.

Part of the Recondo School training took place in the South China Sea where the students practiced hitting the beaches in assault boats.  During their occasional free time, the men enjoyed riding the waves on air mattresses although the water had a slight oily smell from the tankers anchored offshore.

The requirements for graduation from Recondo School were rigid.  About half of all the students who entered the school did not successfully complete the course.  The school was unique in that the final exam would consist of a student patrol in enemy territory.  Mistakes would have far greater consequences than a failing grade.  The Special Forces instructors, who accompanied the patrols and evaluated the student's performance in the field, watched everything with a critical eye.  Hilan Jones, a large-framed soldier who would prove to be one of the best patrol leaders to serve in the 9th Division LRRP, was told he could never make it as a lurp because he was too clumsy and made too much noise.  Most of the 9th Division soldiers who attended the school did well with some, such as SSG Emory Parish and SP4 Dennis Marble, receiving the distinction of being named honor graduates.  Those who made it through the course were entitled to wear an arrowhead-shaped patch with the tip pointed downward, embroidered with a black V, and "RECONDO" in black letters across the top.  It was a mark of distinction and when they graduated, the students were urged to go back to their units and live up to the motto of a recondo: "Smart, Skilled, Tough, Courageous, Confident."

D Troop, 3/5 Cavalry had received their aircraft and was fully operational by March 1, 1967.  Prior to the helicopters arriving in country, Stetson was instructed to report to the airfield and meet two pilots from another aviation unit who would give him an orientation ride.  As the operations officer for the long range patrol, Stetson needed to become familiar with the area where his patrols would be operating.  When he met the pilots, Stetson noticed they wore their pistols in holsters that hung low on their hips like two gunfighters.  He climbed in the back of the Huey as it cranked up and then rapidly picked up speed down the runway.

The end of the runway was marked by commo wire that a signal unit had strung high off the ground between telephone poles.  Looking through the windshield, Stetson saw the helicopter fly right through the wire, hitting it just below the main blade.  As the wire snapped past on both sides of the aircraft, the two pilots turned to each other, their faces petrified with fear.  Stetson, who had visions of his first helicopter ride in country being his last, asked on the intercom if they were OK which seemed to snap them back to reality.  They were fully aware that a wire strike is often a fatal mistake for a pilot.  In this case, the only damage done was to the wire and it was later moved to a location away from the end of the runway.

In March 1967, a soldier who helped contribute greatly to the reputation and success of the unit joined the 9th Division Long Range Patrol.  Master Sergeant Roy Nelson had been the operations NCO for the 3/5 Cavalry when the unit arrived in Vietnam.  When the Cavalry supported the 1st Infantry Division as part of Operation Junction City, Nelson had a disagreement with the Squadron commander and he was reassigned to the LRRPs after the battle of Bau Bang. Nelson's impact on the long range patrol was immediate although he was not a typical first sergeant.  He did not yell at the men to get things accomplished.  Instead, he led by quiet example. He was the consummate NCO, always looking after his men and always seeing they had everything necessary to be successful in the field.

He volunteered for as many missions as possible, wanting to observe his young patrol leaders in action. He was instrumental in helping to weed out those not qualified to lead under combat conditions.  His goal was to teach the basic skills of survival to every lurp who joined the unit.  He stressed education, fitness and discipline.  Nelson's constant reminder to his men was not to get injured by "doing something stupid."

Nelson's first mission was to take five men and guard a 01-E Bird Dog observation airplane that had gone down on a road leading to Long Binh.  The night was uneventful and the next day a Chinook helicopter flew in and lifted the airplane out.  It was a misuse of LRRP assets but Nelson had successfully completed the first of many missions and demonstrated he was a first sergeant who wanted to be leading his men in the field instead of from behind a desk.  He would go on to lead some of the first long range patrols to operate in the Plain of Reeds and on Toi San Island in the Delta.  Nelson saw to it that the men were completely professional while on missions but would allow them to blow off steam and relax in the base camp.  It was a challenge to keep the men gainfully occupied between missions.  To help with morale, the first sergeant allowed cookouts, beer parties, and rough and tumble games of "combat football" where he was knocked around just as much as his men were.

As the long range patrol became operational, a need developed for additional personnel.  One of the men had broken both ankles while going through Recondo School.  He was a patrol point man and was to have been first out of the helicopter. The tall grass made the LZ look deceptively close and he jumped out as the aircraft descended, still some 30 feet in the air.  Replacements were also needed for Miles and Coonrod so a recruiting effort was organized.  Representatives from the long range patrol would put on their camouflaged "tiger" fatigues, shined jungle boots, black berets, and visit the 9th Division Replacement Center in search of volunteers.

The replacement, or "repo depot" as it was commonly called, was where the division's new arrivals could acclimate to the tropical climate. They received classes on such subjects as enemy tactics, detection of booby traps and the importance of respecting the South Vietnamese people and their customs.  On March 15, 1967, two future patrol leaders would meet at the replacement center.  Private Johnston Dunlop was a 32-year old enlistee from Auburn, New York.  Hilan Jones, 26, was a draftee from Thermopolis, Wyoming.  Being older than the average recruit, Jones and Dunlop spent a lot of time together at the repo depot and became best of friends.  Both were highly intelligent and competitive (Dunlop had been a champion swimmer while in high school).  They were intrigued when just before departing for their respective units; soldiers wearing black berets gave a presentation on something called a long range patrol.

1LT Rick Stetson, Master Sergeant Roy Nelson, and Sergeant Bobby Hernandez represented the long range patrol that day.  The LRRP recruiters told the new arrivals that they took only the best of the volunteers. Rank could be obtained faster in the long range patrol and they would wear the black beret. Most important, because they operated secretly in the enemy's backyard, the chances of becoming a casualty in the long range patrol would be much less than if they served in a line outfit.

Jones and Dunlop were impressed by what they heard about the long range patrol.  They liked the idea of monitoring trails and observing enemy activity without being seen.  The benefits of being a LRRP, which included two rest and recuperation trips (R&R), sounded good so they both volunteered.  Stetson told them they would be notified in a couple of weeks if they had been selected.  Dunlop was sent to an engineer unit.  Jones reported to A Troop, 3/5 Cavalry where he would train to drive an armored personnel carrier.

It wasn't long before Jones received word that he had been picked to become a lurp and was ordered to return to Bearcat.  At his first opportunity, Jones hitched a ride to the division's base camp on an armored personnel carrier.  On the way, he passed an engineer unit building a bridge.  There, covered in dust from head to toe and looking somewhat discouraged, was Dunlop.  Jones yelled over to him, "I'm going to be a lurp."  Dunlop shouted back, "Me too."  They would soon be reunited as members of the long range patrol and achieve notable success as patrol leaders.

In April, members of the long range patrol were sent to Nui Dat in Phuoc Tuy Province to work with the Special Air Service (SAS) of the 1st Australian Task Force as part of Operation Portsea.  Soldiers who elected to take an R&R visit to Australia returned with glowing reports of the friendliness and generosity of the people in the "land down under."  The members of Australia's Army were no exception.  The lurps quickly took to working with the Aussies and especially enjoyed their excellent meals that included menus, tables covered with linen tablecloths, silverware and plates.  Orderlies took the requests in the officer's mess and served delicious meals that were always followed by deserts or "sweets".  It was a far cry from the C rations the lurps had been eating for lunch.  The Australians were also excellent fighters who appeared to be calm in battle.  When contact was made with the enemy, the Aussies attacked with every bit of firepower at their disposal.  They were a good-looking bunch in their bush hats and were known for stopping what they were doing in the middle of the afternoon for a "tea time" break.

It was during Operation Portsea that a patrol led by Sergeant Raymond Hulin made the April 29, 1967 edition of the Army Reporter in an article headlined, "9th Infantry Recons Forced to Kill Four VC."  The patrol had been monitoring a trail when a group of enemy soldiers from the 5th Viet Cong Division passed by.  "After the first enemy force passed we waited for about ten minutes before the point man stepped out onto the trail to see if anything was coming," Hulin said.  When the point man, SP4 James Elder, saw an enemy patrol ambling down the trail, he signaled Hulin.  "He let me know we didn't have time to fade back into the jungle so we just froze and squatted down," Elder said.

Elder was behind a small bush only a foot or so off the trail while the rest of the patrol was positioned about ten meters further back  The first member of the enemy patrol passed by without seeing the lurps.  As Hulin reported afterwards, "He had his weapon on his shoulder and was looking at the ground.  The second man stopped right in front of me.  When he turned and faced me, it shocked him like he didn't know what to do.”   Sergeant Hulin knew what he had to do and unloaded a magazine of ammunition into the man.  The other patrol members fired on the remaining Viet Cong.  "I just kept shooting my man until I didn't see him anymore," said SP4 Freddie Jenkins.

The patrol broke contact and moved back to set up a defensive perimeter as the enemy fired away with a semi-automatic weapon.  Hulin called for extraction and as the patrol was lifted out, gunships swept the area with machine-gun and rocket fire.  For his decisive action in leading the patrol out of danger, Raymond Hulin received the Bronze Star and was promoted to Sergeant E-5.  It was proof that rank could indeed be gained rapidly for those patrol members who were willing to assume the responsibility of providing sound leadership.

Roy Nelson was in the command post (CP) at Nui Dat when word was received that Hulin's patrol was in contact.  He picked some men for a reaction force and ordered them to "saddle up."  When Nelson reached the pad, the Hueys were already cranking up.  He looked in one of the helicopters and was surprised to see Jones and Dunlop, two of the "new guys" who had joined the unit that morning. They were sitting in the back of the aircraft trying to avoid the first sergeant's gaze.  They had not been picked for the reaction force but wanted to help out as soon as they heard there was a patrol in trouble.  When he saw them, Nelson knew they had selected a couple of good men to be lurps.

Garrison had helped instill a "can do" spirit among the original members of the long range patrol.  The unit did not have its own table of organization and equipment (TO&E) so requisitions could not be made through normal supply channels.  There were shortages in equipment and weapons so the men had to scrounge the best they could by "wheeling and dealing".  1Lt Garrison and Staff Sergeant (SSG) Cottrell were two of the best.  When they first arrived in the D Troop area, the living conditions included few creature comforts.  Garrison was determined to do something about the lack of electricity.  He told SSG Cottrell to accompany him one day and they set off in a deuce and a half for a headquarters compound near Saigon.

Generators seemed to be in abundant supply and many were being used to provide power to the living quarters of the numerous generals who were housed in the compound.  Garrison grabbed a clipboard and trying to look as official as possible, walked up to a warrant officer and said, "I'm here to pick up my generator".  As the warrant gave him a puzzled look, Garrison continued, "That generator over there is the one I have on my list to pick up", pointing to a high-powered model intended for one of the general officers.

"But I am not authorized to load any generators", protested the warrant officer.  Garrison reached into the truck's cab and produced a bottle of Jack Daniels Whiskey.  "Here", he said offering the bottle.  "This might help convince you to load that generator on my truck."  A wrecker was located, the generator loaded, and Garrison and Cottrell headed back to Bearcat with the new piece of equipment.  Once in the D Troop area, the generator was properly dug in and a generous amount of sandbags was built up around the sides and over the top providing both protection and concealment.  The generator was well-received by the members of D Troop and the LRRP.  It provided sufficient power to not only light the tents, but to keep a proper chill on the soft drinks and beer stored in the personal refrigerators.

The patrol members returned to Bearcat on April 17th after operating with the Australians.  Shortly after, Ed Garrison accompanied a patrol and would observe while running as point man.  The officers were turning over patrol leadership to the NCOs but, still went out whenever possible as the young sergeants gained experience.  As point man, Garrison was to be the first one out of the helicopter.  As he sat with his feet on the Huey's skids he noticed the LZ had been prepped by artillery rounds that had stirred up clouds of dust.  It appeared they were about to touch down so Garrison jumped out while the aircraft was still 3-5 feet in the air.  He broke his foot when he hit the ground and was evacuated to Japan. He was three-months recovering and would not return to the long range patrol.  After his foot healed, he was assigned to Company C, 5/60th where he would excel as the executive officer (XO).  His battalion commander was so impressed with his performance as XO, that he went all the way to General Westmorland to receive permission for Garrison to command a rifle company.

Captain Tedrick transferred to a staff job at division headquarters and left the unit in April.  That left 1LT Stetson as the remaining officer and he commanded the unit from April 13-30, 1967. Then 1LT Donald Lawrence transferred from an infantry company to join the LRRP.  Stetson and Lawrence had graduated together from OCS Class 1-66 at Fort Benning and had the same date of rank.  Their class had graduated alphabetically and since Lawrence had walked across the stage before Stetson, it was decided that he would command the unit.  The arrangement worked well as Lawrence preferred handling the administrative requirements of command while Stetson enjoyed planning the patrols and accompanying the men to the jungle whenever he could.

One of Stetson's patrols was known as "the great elephant hunt."  Reports had come into headquarters that numerous elephant tracks had been spotted in the division's area of operations.  The G-2 wanted a patrol to investigate and determine if the VC were using the elephants as beasts of burden to transport food, weapons and ammunition.  The patrol members were selected; Rick Stetson, John Berg, Steve Ross, Marlin Mears, and Hilan Jones.  The insertion took place with out incident.  As the patrol moved out the next day, it was not long before the unmistakable signs of elephant tracks were visible in the thick bamboo.  The patrol followed the wandering tracks but did not find any elephants. 

They moved into their evening position and later that night, the patrol members heard the trumpeting sound of elephants calling one another from distant parts of the jungle.  The next night, the patrol set up not far from the embankment of an abandoned railroad.  They monitored the site but there was no sign of enemy activity. Sometime after midnight, the patrol was jolted awake by the sound of automatic weapons being fired from the other side of the rail embankment.  It sounded like at least a platoon's worth of weapons was being fired on full automatic, seemingly right next to the startled patrol.  The firing continued for at least a half minute and then it ended as suddenly as it had started.  There was complete silence.  No voices, no sounds of magazines being removed, just a "thump, thump" as each patrol member heard the sound of his pounding heart.  The men remained on high alert until the normal sounds of the night convinced them that the VC must have been conducting a test fire of their weapons and had moved on.  The patrol was extracted the next Day without finding the elephants.

Not long after that patrol, however, Stetson was in a Huey providing command and control for an insertion when he happened to look out the door of the aircraft as they returned to base camp.  Standing by some trees, at the edge of a small clearing, was a mother elephant and her calf.  He pointed them out to the pilots who banked the helicopter for a better look and more elephants were observed.  There was no sign of enemy personnel, just wild elephants, annoyed at the sound of the circling helicopter, running and trying to hide in the trees.  The pilots sent a message to the other D Troop aircraft that they had elephants in sight.  In no time, a transmission came from division headquarters wanting to know the status of the elephants.  It was then announced that the commanding general was boarding his helicopter to come out and take a look for himself.  As the D Troop helicopters flew back to the airfield, called The Roundtable, a growing group of VIP's were seen circling the area looking for the elephants.

Elephants were not the only animals the patrols had to contend with in the jungle.  Stetson was on a patrol one day in thick jungle when an object of some kind crashed through the leaves and landed nearby.  The patrol members instantly froze with fingers on the triggers of their weapons while minds raced trying to determine what had been thrown at them.  Was it possible a VC had tossed a dud grenade at them?  Was someone trying to lead the patrol into an ambush?  After waiting several minutes, no further sounds were heard and the patrol cautiously moved forward.  Thump.  Another unknown object landed close by.  The men did not move as they kept weapons pointed to the front, sides and rear of the patrol.  This time, Stetson decided to remain in place until the source of the noise could be located.  Again, complete quiet.  Then, in the triple canopy growth high above their heads, the men heard a rustling of leaves.  They looked up and saw a group of monkeys swinging through the branches while staring down at them.  The men breathed sighs of relief while shaking silent fists at the monkeys who were either defending their territory or amusing themselves by seeing who could hit a soldier with a stick.

The 9th Infantry Division established a base camp in the Mekong Delta called Dong Tam.  The 600 acre base camp on the My Tho River was formed by dredging sand from the river bottom and depositing it on marshland.  The world's largest dredge was used to perform that task until Viet Cong sappers planted explosive charges on the dredge one night sending it to the bottom of the river.  Smaller dredges were used and the division soon had a permanent base in the Delta. 

The division needed intelligence about enemy activity in the area and long range patrol members were flown to Dong Tam to meet with the Navy Seals. The seals were an elite and secretive group that had established a reputation for successful operations in the swampy Delta region.  The Seals were known for specializing in prisoner snatches where they would stand in water up to their noses for hours waiting for the opportunity to grab a high-ranking prisoner.

The 9th Division placed units of the 2nd Brigade on board the USS Benewah (APB-35) the flagship of River Assault Flotilla One. The Benewah, a converted WWII-era LST, was first launched in 1946. It was modernized in July 1966.   Included was a helicopter landing platform and accommodations for 1150 soldiers.  The feature that made the biggest impression on the patrol members who visited the ship was that the troops slept in air-conditioned quarters.  Another indication the Navy knew how to do things with style was the officer's mess where Philippine stewards made certain the tea glasses was never empty.

An instructor at the MACV Recondo School had told his students that a patrol leader always had the final approval for a mission.  It was pointed out that if a patrol leader had been given an assignment that he considered too dangerous, he had the option of turning down the mission.  When the assignment came down from division for the long range patrol to put a team in the Delta, a young sergeant was given the mission.  He was taken on an over flight of the area and quickly observed that instead of lush jungle offering concealment the instant a patrol moved off the LZ, the Delta was nothing but wide open rice paddies.  When the helicopter landed, the patrol leader said he would have to refuse the mission, as it was too dangerous.  Stetson, the operations officer, knew it was pointless to try to force him to take the patrol as the sergeant's apprehensions could endanger the entire group.  Stetson said he would lead the patrol and put in an immediate request to have the sergeant transferred out of the unit.

The patrol was deposited in the middle of a rice paddy at last available light.  Instead of scrambling for the thickest clump of vegetation, as they would do in the jungle, the patrol tried to conceal themselves as best as they could behind a two-foot high rice paddy dike.  They lay motionless, hearts pounding, imagining that every VC in the area knew exactly where they were.  After a period of time had passed, the stillness of the night reassured the patrol they had not been spotted.  The men were still uncomfortable at being so exposed but eventually they relaxed enough to resume normal breathing.  The patrol was not far from a small river and sounds of motorized sampans could be heard moving throughout the night.  Early the next morning, the patrol was picked up.  They did not have a lot of intelligence to report but they had demonstrated it was possible to spend at least one night out in the open.  Patrols operating in that area would later learn how to use the vegetation along the riverbanks for concealment and would go on to accomplish numerous successful missions in the Delta.

The network of rivers and canals around Dong Tam offered another means of inserting patrols, by boat.  Toi San Island was in the middle of the My Tho River and it was a favorite location for the VC to fire at passing river patrol boats.  The enemy was so prevalent that soldiers called the place VC Island.  On May 9, 1967, the LRRP received a mission to put a recon patrol on Toi San Island.  They would be inserted at last light by a Navy armored troop carrier that was armed with a caliber .50 machine gun, two 20mm cannons, and several deck mounted caliber .30 machine guns.  SGT Raymond Hulin was to lead the patrol.  Also on board were Stetson, the operations officer, a reaction team led by SSG Cottrell and the five man Navy crew.

Stetson peered through the growing darkness trying to locate a suitable spot to insert the patrol.  The first site selected was not a good one.  As the boat eased into the island, it was apparent that the water was too deep and the bank undercut giving the men no foothold when they would scramble ashore.  The boat backed off and moved further down the island.  A small clearing was spotted that had a gradually sloping bank and Stetson gestured for the sailor at the wheel to head the boat in.  The troop carrier had a landing ramp in front but it was decided that dropping it would expose everyone in the boat to hostile fire.  The patrol members crouched along a ledge that ran around the top of the craft, ready to drop over the side as soon as the boat got close enough to the island.  The sides of the boat were covered with bar armor; long thin rods about six inches apart that helped prevent RPG rounds from penetrating the hull.  The rods served as excellent hand and foot holds as the team members climbed over the side.

The point man was the first to leave the boat and waded into waist-deep water followed by Hulin, the patrol leader.  The third team member was climbing down the side of the boat when one of the men still on the ledge whispered, "I hear voices."  At that moment, automatic weapons opened up from the shoreline.  Bullets pinged off the hull as the boat's operator threw the engines into reverse backing the craft towards the middle of the river.  Another sailor returned fire with the caliber .50 machine gun while members of the reaction force sprayed the tree line with M16 rounds.  Stetson took a quick headcount and realized they were a man short.  He glanced down over the side of the boat and he spotted Hulin fighting to hold on to the bar armor.  As patrol leader, he carried a heavy radio plus his weapon and all of his equipment and he was unable to hold on any longer, as the boat rapidly backed out into the river's current.  SGT Howard Munn, a reaction team member who had been splattered in the arm by fragments from a bullet was manning one of the caliber .30  machine guns when he spotted Hulin in the middle of the river trying to shed his pack and web gear.  Stetson shouted for the Navy personnel to stop the engines as Munn executed a headfirst dive into the river and swam towards Hulin.  As he approached, Hulin calmly turned his back so Munn could reach around and help keep him afloat.  Just as he placed a hand on his chin, Hulin gulped in a mouthful of the muddy river water.  The more the patrol leader shook his head trying to spit out the water, the harder Munn held on until the boat was finally able to maneuver and pick up both lurps.  Munn was recommended for the Soldiers Medal for his actions and in September 1967, he received a Bronze Star with V device for his heroism.

Insertion by boat was the exception as most patrols were dropped off in LZs by helicopters flown by the skilled D Troop pilots.  A close bond of mutual respect developed between the aviators and the members of the long range patrol.  The lurps knew if a patrol experienced trouble, the pilots of D Troop would do whatever necessary to come get them.  The aviators and members of the long range patrol not only worked together; they were friends so that when a tragic accident occurred on May 26, 1967, both units were devastated.

The gunship crews (Crusaders) often operated at night.  Sometimes they would support American or South Vietnamese units or they might go off in pairs trying to stir up targets on their own.  The D Troop pilots were highly capable of night flight operations.  New pilots were arriving in country on a regular basis and before sending them out on missions, they would train on orientation rides to become familiar with combat flying.  On May 26, CPT Norman Kidd and 1LT Jack Dodson reported to the D Troop operations area for briefings.  Both had been in Vietnam only four days and would be flying as observers with two veteran gunship crews that night.  The new pilots were attentive during the briefings and tried to absorb as much information possible about the tactics of gunship operations.  The D Troop pilots, having conducted such operations numerous times, were relaxed and eager to show the new arrivals how the gunship's firepower could be unleashed on an enemy who liked to move at night.

When Stetson reported to night operations, the next day to plan a mission, he could immediately see by the pilot's faces that something was wrong.  There was none of the bantering and carrying on that usually took place in the building.  Instead, one word, midair, summed up what had happened.  Two D Troop gunships had been conducting night operations outside a small Vietnamese town when the aircraft collided in flight.  One of the door gunners survived the impact but died shortly after being airlifted to a hospital.  The rest of the pilots and crews died immediately in the crash.  The Doughboys rifle platoon was flown in to help secure the crash site and help with the removal of the bodies.  Killed in the collision were Captain (CPT) Gene Matthews, CPT Robert Mosher, Warrant Officer (WO1) Robert Cook, Specialist Five (SP5) George Bennett, Specialist Four (SP4) Roger Fortune, SP4 Joseph LeGrand, SP4 Melvin Martz along with the two aviators just arrived in country, CPI' Kidd and 1LT Dodson.  Their deaths cast a dark shadow over the men of D Troop and the long range patrol.

SSG Richard Cottrell, a 36 year old patrol leader from Philadelphia, received an operations order on June 23, 1967 to conduct a long range reconnaissance patrol in the Long Thanh Province south of Bearcat.  Cottrell alerted his assistant patrol leader, SP4 Dennis Marble who informed the remainder of the team; PFCs Marlin Mears, James Woodson and Hilan Jones.  The insertion was scheduled to take place the following afternoon.

There was a good amount of experience on the patrol.  SSG Cottrell was a graduate of the MACV Recondo School and had completed 12 successful missions.  SP4 Marble, recondo qualified and the honor graduate of his class had been on four previous missions with Cottrell.  The Old Reliable newspaper described Marble as being "as apple-cheeked as Cottrell is tanned but his dark eyes look older than his 20 years."  PFCs Woodson and Mears were also recondo school graduates who had accompanied Cottrell on several missions.  PFC Jones was a "new guy" with the LRRP'S who had received a letter of completion from Recondo School.

As the team prepared for the mission by drawing rations, filling canteens, test firing and cleaning their weapons, Cottrell took an over flight to help select the landing zone (LZ) for the insertion.  Preparations completed, the team headed for the Round Table late in the afternoon to board a waiting Huey for the insertion.  The patrol members had the usual nervous tension that took place just before each mission but this day, the anticipation was even higher as the new patrol member, Jones, was untested.

Adrenaline was rushing and hearts pounding as the helicopter neared the LZ.  The heat rushing in the open doors and the "pop, pop, pop" sound as the blades changed pitch while the aircraft flared for a landing told them they were moments away from scrambling into the jungle.  The patrol dashed for the nearest concealment and froze in place as the sounds of the helicopters faded away.  This was the crucial moment.  Senses strained to pick-up any sight or sound made by an enemy who might have been watching the LZ.  If they had been spotted, this is when the VC would start looking for them.  Minutes passed and the quiet of the jungle became reassuring.  Finally, the operations officer circling high above in the command and control ship asked on the radio how the light was.  "Red" meant trouble and "green" indicated everything was good so far.  The light was green so the gunships, the pickup aircraft, and the C&C ship headed back to Bearcat leaving the patrol on their own.  The men moved into the jungle in search of a suitable night position.  Cottrell selected a spot in the thickest undergrowth they could find and the patrol settled in for the night.  The experienced men rested well but Jones was more apprehensive and got little sleep.

The first day was uneventful and dampened by steady drizzle.  The team zigzagged through the jungle searching for trails or any other signs the enemy was in the area.  A radio relay aircraft flew over for a SITREP and the patrol leader reported no sign of enemy activity and gave the patrol's location in code.  Again, they found a thick growth of vegetation in which to spend the second night.

The next morning, the patrol moved out on their pre-planned route and came upon a well-used trail.  It was early in the day and footprints were visible in the mud.  It was obvious the trail had been used recently and the enemy had to be nearby. Cottrell decided to take up positions and monitor the trail.  He moved his men across and placed them in positions about five meters apart where they paralleled the trail and could observe without being detected.  It wasn't long before the first enemy soldier was spotted moving quickly along the trail, coming from the right of the patrol.  He was wearing an olive green uniform and carrying a chicom rifle, holding it by the barrel as it rested on his shoulder.  Following about 20 meters behind came another similarly dressed and armed soldier. Behind him came another yet another NVA. 

After waiting a several minutes and seeing no additional enemy, Cottrell moved the team briskly away from the trail and out of the area.  The patrol had traveled just a short distance when they came upon a small clearing where they found a poncho shelter erected on four bamboo poles stuck in the ground.  Under the shelter was a five-gallon square can with the top cut off.  The area looked as if it had been occupied recently and Cottrell assumed it was an outpost for a larger complex nearby, probably located in the direction where the enemy soldiers had come from.  Sensing there could be an ambush in the vicinity, Cottrell directed his point man, Jones, to head off at a ninety-degree angle away from the outpost and a possible ambush.  As they were moving away from the clearing, the patrol members heard a rifle shot and a muffled explosion that sounded like a grenade.  The team immediately went into the standard reaction drill used to break contact, escape and evade (E&E).  Each lurp assumed a position with every other man facing to the right or left.  The last in line, Marble, faced the direction of the enemy and fired his weapon on fall automatic.  He emptied his magazine and turned away from the enemy reloading his weapon as he ran.  Each man would in turn repeat the procedure before following the assistant team leader.

Jones, the last to fire, emptied his magazine and tossed a white phosphorous (Willie peter) grenade before turning to catch up with the escaping team.  As Jones tried to run through the thick vegetation, his rucksack became entangled in the "wait-a-minute" vines.  He quickly shed the pack and left it on the ground as he caught up with the patrol.  They ran for several hundred meters before stopping to listen and determine if they were being followed.  They were not and the patrol leader called for an extraction.  Afterwards, Cottrell was quoted in a newspaper account of the action as saying, "We hit our firing plan and moved out smartly."  The Old Reliable paper continued the dramatic account: "It gets hairy out there," Cottrell said frankly.  "That business was a surprise and we don't like to get surprised.  It was a good thing we used our diversionary tactics, it was a damn close shave."  Cottrell and Marble received the Bronze Star with V device for the actions on the patrol while Jones was awarded the Army Commendation Medal with V for valor.

The long range patrol received considerable publicity for a June 1967 patrol led by SSG Robert Syndram.  The Old Reliable's June 24th edition headed the story detailing the patrols action as, "Five-Man Recon Team Bailed Out of Tight Spot by Arty, Gunships."  The Stars and Stripes carried the same story under the heading, "9th Inf. Recon Team's Ordeal. The VC Were 10 to l Against Us." Long Thanh.  Out numbered 10 to l, a five-man team from the U.S. Army's 9th Inf. Div. Long Range Reconnaissance Platoon became the prey of a Viet Cong manhunt recently.  After five hours of fight and flight, the team escaped the enemy thanks to the pinpoint accuracy of artillery fire and a withering onslaught from helicopter gunships.

A lone enemy soldier had spotted the recon team.  SP4 Donald Naughton of Norwalk, CA was forced to mow down the approaching enemy with his M16 rifle.  The chattering gun gave away the team's position.  "They knew we were in there and they were determined to find us," Team Leader SSG Robert Syndram of FT Wayne, IN recalled afterward.  The team attempted to avoid detection by moving frequently but twice narrowly missed being cut down by enemy machine gun fire.  Breaking for a nearby knoll, they scrambled to the top and set up a perimeter using fallen trees and rocks for cover.  Minutes later, the heavily armed enemy platoon reached the knoll and surrounded it as the team desperately radioed for aid.  After three hours without making radio contact, the 9th Division artillery observer's plane arrived overhead for a routine radio check.

The surrounded troops explained the situation to 1st LT Stewart McGregor, the aerial observer.  McGregor radioed artillerymen at the Black Horse base of the 11th Armored Cavalry Regiment about three miles northwest of the knoll.  At about 2:30 PM the first rounds thundered in on the enemy position.  "They were good, close groups and right on target," the observer recalled.  "The rounds were coming in right on their heads," Syndram said.

Meanwhile, helicopter gunships of the 9th Division's Troop D, 3rd Squadron, 5th Armored Cavalry, had scrambled.  The artillery fell silent shortly after 3:30 PM and "that's when the gunships took over," McGregor related.  Rockets and miniguns raked the enemy position to secure a landing zone where another chopper from. Troop D could land to pick up the team.  CPT William (Wild Bill) Bailey and WO William Brayshaw landed the rescue chopper about 200 meters southwest of the knoll.  The team sprinted to the waiting helicopter.  At 4:30, five and half-hours after the enemy force had first surrounded them; the recon team was on its way back to the division's base camp.

By July, 1967, the 9th Infantry Division’s long range patrol platoon had been operating in Vietnam for almost half a year. During that time, the LRRPs had obtained valuable intelligence about enemy activity within the division’s area of operations but being just a platoon size, the number of patrols that could operate at any given time was limited. Thus, the decision was made by the 9th Division to increase the LRRP Detachment to a company size unit.

The 9th Division Chief of Staff, a blunt spoken colonel by the name of M.W. Kendall, wanted an experienced unit commander to form the detachment into a company. The call went out for Clarence “Clancy” Matsuda, commander of A Company, 3rd Battalion, 60th Infantry. Matsuda was a 29-year old captain who had attended West Point and received his commission after completing OCS at Fort Benning, Georgia. In May 1967, Matsuda had been awarded the Silver Star for leading his company with distinction on 2 May, 1967, during the Battle of Ap Bac, a fierce fight in which two of his men, Leonard Keller and Raymond Wright, later received the Congressional Medal of Honor. Matsuda had considerable leadership experience going back to his initial assignment as a recon platoon leader with an airborne battle group on Okinawa followed by a tour at Fort Bragg where he was executive officer of a raider detachment in the 82nd Airborne Division. He then commanded a rifle company in the Dominican Republic and a headquarter company at Ft Bragg, N. C. (this assignment was made primarily to take on the then precarious Command Maintenance Management Inspection (CMMI) in the 82nd's 2nd Battalion, 505th Infantry.

Matsuda’s battalion commander, LTC Doty, was newly assigned to the 60th and did not want to lose one of his best commanders to the LRRPs so he flew to Bearcat to personally appeal to the chief of staff. COL Kendall was not persuaded and told the battalion commander that Matsuda was the man he wanted to lead the long range patrol. Matsuda’s tour as commander of the rifle company was over. He packed his belongings, said farewell to his company and prepared to move to Bearcat for his new assignment. First, however, he was instructed to report to the ill-natured Kendall who did not hide his opinion of the LRRPs. “They jump at shadows,” the former First Brigade Commander barked at Matsuda. “Their image stinks. Fix it. Now get out of here.” The new LRRP Commander, according to officers who had served under the crusty chief of staff, had just been “Kendallized.”

On July 8, 1967, CPT Clancy Matsuda assumed command of the 9th Division Long Range Patrol. Facing him was the considerable task of taking the unit from a platoon to a company and there was no time to hold a formal change of command ceremony. LT Lawrence was moved to the position of executive officer while LT Stetson remained as the unit’s operations officer. LT Garrison transferred to a rifle company in the Delta where he would perform with distinction and go on to become a career Army officer. Matsuda would also make a career out of the Army and serve for over 30 years before retiring as a full colonel.

The unit was given priority to be filled at the 100% level utilizing volunteers who would be screened through an interview process. When it came to selecting his officers, the new commander took advantage of his West Point Connections. One of his good friends at the Academy, MAJ Jim Blesse, was the 9th Division assistant G-1 and in charge of assignments for company grade officers. He let Matsuda have his pick of all incoming lieutenants and as a result, hard-charging young officers Dale Dickey and Henry Richard Hester were assigned to the rapidly expanding unit.     

LT Edison K. Woodie did not join the LRRPs through the replacement pipeline. He served with Matsuda in the 3rd Battalion, 60th Infantry as the Heavy Mortar platoon leader.  Woodie was a Ranger qualified officer with an outstanding reputation as a strong (he had been a body builder competitor) and courageous warrior.  Matsuda "arranged" Woodie's assignment to the LRRPs through MAJ Blesse. Like Matsuda and the other hand picked officers, Woodie led by example and was eager to get in the jungle and start patrolling. Woodie’s sense of humor fit in nicely with the LRRPs who never minded pulling the legs of non-rangers. One time a soldier asked Woodie why his survival mirror had a hole in the center of it. (The mirrors were carried by all patrol members and the opening was to help aim the mirror at an aircraft.) With a straight face Woodie said to the soldier, “That’s so if I am shaving while in the field, I can look through the mirror to make sure no Viet Cong are sneaking up on me.”

As Matsuda’s officers began putting plans into effect to build the unit into a company, the new commander left Bearcat for an orientation tour to observe how other units were utilizing their long range patrol assets. His visits would take him to the 173rd Airborne Brigade, 4th Infantry Division, 1st Cavalry Division, 101st Airborne Division, 196th Light Infantry Brigade, and the Recon Battalion of the Fleet Marine Division. In addition, Matsuda stopped in at the MACV Recondo School where he obtained lesson plans and operating procedures that would become useful when his unit developed its own recondo training program.

Returning to Bearcat with a better understanding of the organization and direction he wanted for his unit, Matsuda summarized the observations during his visits as follows: 1. The support of the LRRPs varied according to the confidence that senior leadership had in the unit, and, 2. LRRPs must believe they belong to an elite unit made up of tough fighters. The warrior spirit had to be part of the temperament for those selected to perform commando operations in Vietnam.

To help instill the “warrior spirit,” one of the first requirements the new commander implemented was that patrol members would be fully camouflaged before going out on a mission. This meant applying green and black “grease paint” to all areas of exposed skin to include ears and the backs of the hands. Prior to Matsuda assuming command, patrol members would smear a little camouflage on their faces, but it was applied in a haphazard manner with thought that darkness would engulf the patrol after they were inserted and that the paint would quickly wash off in the rain and humidity. Matsuda, however, likened the application of camouflage before a mission to American Indians applying war paint to their bodies before going into battle. The process of darkening their skin by using camouflage sticks served notice that the patrol members were preparing to be sent into hostile territory. In a previous assignment as a recon platoon leader, Matsuda noticed that the soldiers who put on the most camouflage always seemed to perform better. The LRRP commander wanted his soldiers to have every possible advantage over the enemy.

Matsuda made a point of taking an active role in his new company.  Soon after taking command, he selected a team already scheduled for a patrol, and joined as an observer.  The team consisted of a relatively new Team Leader, Sergeant Jimmy Bedgood, and Assistant Team Leader, Sergeant Kenneth McCarn.  The three observers were Specialists Four Jerry Wilson and Hilan Jones, with Private First Class Bruce Church filling out the team.  Matsuda's role was to observe, hopping to get a feel for what type of "animal" he had been charged with shaping up.

There was nothing special about this particular patrol, just the average Lurp on a normal reconnaissance mission, searching for enemy locations or activity.  As the team prepared for the mission, Bedgood made the over flight and selected the Landing Zone.  Once this was accomplished he returned to Bearcat for the remainder of the team.  There was plenty of excitement among the patrol members as it wasn't an everyday thing to have an officer, especially the company commander, on patrol with them.  Each man wanted to do his very best to impress the captain, not yet knowing that this mission would call for exceptional effort to just get out alive.

The insertion and first night out was uneventful.  Things were going well as each man wanted to show his stuff for the commander.  Camouflage sticks were used and the guys moved with extra care to demonstrate for the captain they knew how it was done.  The second day out began as the first had ended, uneventful.  They had moved a thousand meters or so, without incident, when one of the men saw sign of fresh digging off to the right.  Bedgood moved his team closer to inspect the area and attempt to identify what, if any, enemy activity was going on.

They found a large circular hole about ten feet in diameter, dug straight down approximately fifty feet.  Straddling the hole was a pole six to eight inches in diameter supported on two similar poles, about five-foot tall, secured firmly in the ground on either side of the hole.  Indications were that this apparatus was being used to hoist the fresh diggings from the hole.  The team moved back away from the digging and took a position where they could observe the hole without being detected.  When the scheduled air relay passed overhead Bedgood reported the findings and requested support to provide security and investigate the hole.  The team waited for any special instructions.  No support was immediately available and the nearest LZ was a few thousand meters away.  It was decided that they would mark their location and observe the area the remainder of the afternoon and through the night.

To get an exact location of the hole, Bedgood requested a "fix".  This was a procedure used to determine a patrols location by flying over their position on the ground.  Guided by the TL or radio operator, the pilot of the approaching aircraft is given direction using the clock method (i.e. fly 2 o'clock) until he passes directly overhead.  At that time, the radio operator would announce touchdown.  The pilot would then fly in from a different direction and the procedure was repeated.  The pilot then had an X on his map marking the location on the ground and providing the co ordinance of the requested "fix". The team learned that they were 6000 meters north of where they thought they were.  Bedgood had put down in the wrong LZ.  It was fortunate they called for the "fix" because knowing their precise location would become very important the following day.

The patrol spent the night alternating who would sleep and who would watch.  They anticipated enemy soldiers or workers to come and continue the digging.  This did not happen and the patrol moved out early the next morning.  Having traveled a very short distance, they came upon a well-used trail with more fresh digging on either side.  Under construction was what appeared to be fighting holes or bunkers?  There was an eerie feeling among the patrol members as if "Charlie" wasn't too far away.

Bedgood took Jones and proceeded to move down the trail to their right.  The remainder of the guys stayed in place providing rear security.  The two hadn't gotten more than a few meters down the trail when they heard voices.  It was unmistakably "Charlie" but he wasn't visible through the thick underbrush.  Without a word, Bedgood layed down in the middle of the trail and opened up on full automatic in the direction of the voices.  Calling for Jones to follow him, he turned and headed back at a double time to join the others.  Before following, Jones emptied his magazine and tossed a couple of grenades up the trail hoping to discourage the VC from following.  It didn't work and the patrol could hear movement and talking as the enemy made their way towards them.

The Lrrps went into their immediate action drill in an attempt to separate themselves from the enemy pursuit.  Each of the six Lrrps fired a full magazine on automatic and the last man tossed another grenade as they ran away from the contact area. Having ran for over 600 meters they came to a small mound of dirt where the team leader decided to stop and listen for anyone that might be following.  All was quiet as the Lrrps regrouped and caught their breath.  They set up in a small circle with McCarn and Matsuda watching the rear, Bedgood and Church to either side, with Jones and Wilson looking in the direction of their travel. It appeared that no one was following so Wilson and Jones decided to have a smoke before they moved on.

Before they had a chance to light their smokes McCarn opened fire on full automatic.  He and Matsuda saw two or three VC picking their way carefully through the jungle looking for sign of the fleeing Lrrps.  As the enemy fell, the team was up and running again, putting as much distance as they could between themselves and the enemy.  They quickly covered another 600 meters or so before slowing to listen.  It looked like no one was following.  Breathing a sigh of relief, they continued toward the LZ for extraction.

As the team traveled quietly through the jungle they came upon a poncho covered structure of some sort.  Jones always carried a few extra grenades and saw this as an opportunity to toss one.  The team took cover as Jones tossed the grenade toward the structure.  The explosion shook the surrounding vegetation and Jones as well.  He was hit on the top of the head by a small fragment from the grenade.  Further investigation revealed a rice cache, which the Lrrps destroyed before moving on to the LZ.

Reaching the LZ, they waited for the chopper that was on the way to pick them up.  It wasn't long before the chopper was within radio range and Bedgood was directing them to the LZ.  As the chopper came in to pick them up the pilot realized the area was too small for landing.  As the chopper lifted upward the pilot informed Bedgood of a suitable opening about 1000 meters from there present location.  Anxious to get out of the area the team quickly made their way to the opening identified by the pilot.  Upon arrival at the new LZ, they found that the chopper wasn't able to set completely down.  The Lrrps, with the help of the door gunner pulling and their teammates pushing, were able to load the chopper and lift off without any further problems.

Prior to going on a patrol, care was also taken to subdue anything that could reflect light, such as a knife handle, by covering it with olive drab duct tape. In addition, anything that might rattle, such as rifle sling holders, was taped down. Tape even covered the openings to the barrels of their weapons, not for noise and light discipline, but to keep out mud and debris that might cause a rifle to jam as well as to help keep out moisture from the ever-present rain. The midst of enemy contact was not the time to discover that a rifle would not fire, so patrol members would test fire their weapons prior to departing on each mission.

As the long range patrol expanded to a company, it was obvious that a larger living area would have to be found. The arrangement housing soldiers with D Troop worked well when the LRRPs operated as a platoon-size unit and had allowed for strong bonds of friendship to be formed with the helicopter pilots and their crews. Now however, space would be needed for living quarters, an orderly room, operations room, classroom building and supply room as well as sufficient area to construct an obstacle course.

Division gave the unit a piece of property near the northern edge of the base camp and the LRRPs were ready to begin construction on their new home. Most of the work would have to be done by members of the unit as the Army engineers were stretched thin by combat missions such as operating Rome plows to widen roads through the surrounding jungle. The engineers did agree to pour cement foundations for the buildings and fortunately the long range patrol had experienced carpenters such as Richard Cottrell, Elbert Walden, Greg Nizialek and Herbert Vaughan to help handle the construction. Soldiers without a carpentry background received some quick OJT (on the job training) and were soon up on roofs driving nails alongside the more experienced hands. The men even handled the installation of the wiring needed to bring power to the buildings. One well-meaning patrol member who said he knew something about electrical work apparently got his wires crossed and was thrown from a ladder as he worked on a hot line leading to one of the buildings. Fortunately, the only thing injured was his pride.

LT Woodie was tasked with building the obstacle course. He rounded up “volunteers” to assist with lifting the heavy logs to be anchored in place for the rope climbs and other obstacles that would enable soldiers to build self-confidence as they traversed high above the ground without the benefit of safety nets below. The sight of soldiers negotiating obstacles on the course would prove to be a highlight whenever VIP‘s would visit the LRRP compound. Tyrone Muse and Astor Pagan were two of the fastest and most agile of the group and were designated as the primary demonstrators. Visiting dignitaries would look on in amazement as Muse and Pagan would scramble up a vertical wall and then almost free-fall their way down the other side, slapping at the boards as they descended.  

The quarters constructed in the new compound were nicer than those offered to soldiers in a rifle company. The officers and senior NCO‘s had individual rooms in their buildings and the soldiers were allocated additional space for their bunks and gear. Matsuda believed his LRRPs deserved the best. After spending anywhere from three to five nights sleeping on the ground, eating cold meals and communicating by either hand signals or whispers, the commander wanted his men to have a comfortable place to call their own when they came in out of the jungle.  

Matsuda‘s designs for the company area required considerably more construction material than the engineers had allocated. The large classroom building, based on a similar facility he had seen while visiting the MACV Recondo School, would by itself require large amounts of plywood and roofing tin. Plans were also drawn up for an operations building with space for situation maps, a communications room and a separate area for debriefings after missions were completed. In D Troop the patrols were debriefed in the soldiers sleeping area. The commander wanted the new facilities to be as professional in appearance as the men who would live and work in them. It was apparent the new accommodations would be a lot larger than the plans authorized but Matsuda‘s philosophy was, “It is easier to ask forgiveness than to ask permission.”  

To obtain the massive amount of material needed for all the extras planned for the company area, including a separate building for their own club, the LRRPs resorted to scrounging, an age-old Army tradition at which the patrol members were quite proficient. LT Lawrence was tasked with heading up the “gathering patrols”. Utilizing good recon techniques, he located an engineer storage area stocked with piles of roofing beams, plywood, tin, and other needed construction materials. Lawrence obtained a deuce and a half, designated one of the patrol members as his driver and proceeded to the unguarded storage area to see what was there to be appropriated. He discovered that the construction materials were bound together in large stacks and much too heavy to be lifted on the truck. The LRRP officer found a young private operating a forklift and asked the soldier if he would be interested in receiving a genuine set of tiger fatigues, just like the ones worn by members of the long range patrol. Lawrence told the soldier all he had to do was to use his forklift to place some bundles of plywood in the back of the truck and the fatigues were his. The forklift operator said he would be happy to assist in the loading.  

Because a forklift was not available back at the construction area, unloading the truck called for some ingenuity. Emory Parish devised a solution that was not “by the book” yet managed to get the building materials offloaded in a fast and efficient manner. As Parrish drove his overloaded truck into the LRRP compound with tires and sides bulging, he looked for a place where he could unload his cargo. The deuce and a half was not built to be a dump truck but Parrish made it act like one by revving the engine while popping the clutch causing the front end of the truck to raise up and letting the cargo slide out the back and land in a cloud of dust next to the building under construction.

Cement was another material that was hard to obtain. The engineers had allocated enough to pour the foundations of the living quarters and orderly room but providing additional cement for buildings like an NCO club was out of the question. The LRRPs however, were always up to the challenge of obtaining materials that were in short supply and hard to find. Patrol members discovered cement was being mixed at a plant outside Bearcat and trucked through the main gate by soldiers who might be interested in a set of long range patrol tiger fatigues. All they had to do was to divert their loads to the long range patrol company area and pour cement into forms that were already set up in the shape of an NCO club. The LRRP’s supply of tiger fatigues went down a bit but they got the foundations to their buildings.

Masonite was a material in short supply yet it was just what the LRRPs needed to finish the interior of their club. Always on the alert for an opportunity to meet their supply needs, the men noticed that a chapel under construction happened to have a supply of masonite stacked nearby. In the belief their club was more in need of a finished interior than the chapel, a truck was dispatched under the cover of darkness and a load of the scarce material was transported back to the LRRP compound where it was nailed into place on the walls of the club. When the carpenters building the chapel showed up and discovered their masonite was missing, the post chaplain launched an investigation that somehow pointed him in the direction the long range patrol‘s construction site.  

It was an unhappy chaplain who visited the visited the long range patrol compound and asked for the unit‘s commander. Clancy Matsuda was not in the area at the time so the chaplain turned to the highest ranking LRRP he could find, First Sergeant Roy Nelson. The chaplain, a lieutenant colonel, demanded to be taken on a tour of the buildings. Upon entering the club and spotting his masonite, the chaplain locked Nelson‘s heels (stood him at attention) and in a very un-chaplain like tone of voice, told the first sergeant that since the material was already nailed in place inside the building he would allow it to remain there if Nelson would guarantee there would be LRRPs in attendance at future chapel services. And so it happened that for a number of Sundays thereafter, members of the long range patrol “got religion” as they sat together in the front pew of the base camp‘s newly-constructed chapel.  

Building operations flourished as a steady stream of hard-to-obtain wood came rolling into the LRRP compound on a regular basis. The unauthorized method of requisition continued under the direction of LT Lawrence until one day he asked a gathering of his fellow officers why he had to be the one who always took chances with the procurement. LT Stetson said that since he did not have any patrols going out that day, he would be willing to lead a re-supply mission. After Lawrence gave him the particulars, Stetson rounded up Emory Parrish to be his driver and they set off for the engineer supply area for a load of plywood. A forklift operator was located who accepted his set of tiger fatigues and quickly went to work loading the truck with bundles of the precious wood. Stetson was watching the truck grow heavy with plywood when he noticed a jeep slow down and an officer in the passenger seat view the scene in wide-eyed amazement before speeding off. Shortly thereafter, a jeep with two large white letters on the hood, “MP,” pulled into the area and two soldiers wearing armbands with similar letters approached Stetson and asked who had authorized him to load materials from the engineer‘s storage area. The lieutenant replied that he had no such authorization but that since there were no signs identifying the area as being off limits, he had assumed the materials were there for whoever needed them. One of the MP’s said, “Sir, you will need to come with us and your sergeant needs to unload that truck.” Stetson, with visions of his days as an officer coming to an end, was escorted to the MP headquarters where he was interviewed, a statement taken and his commander summoned to come pick him up. The MP officer said that since the supply area was not properly marked, he would release the lieutenant if CPT Matsuda would write a letter of reprimand to be placed in Stetson‘s permanent records. The letter was written and a copy sent to the MP‘s but Matsuda somehow “misplaced” the original that was intended for Stetson‘s file and no further action was taken.  

Fortunately, the construction phase of the new long range patrol area was nearing completion when Stetson got “busted“ but his apprehension by the MP‘s prompted a visit from a major on the staff of the Division engineers who had been instructed to determine how much material the LRRPs might have appropriated over the previous months. It did not take a math genius to compute that considerably more material had been used in the construction than had been authorized but by that time, the wood had been cut and nailed securely in place. The major, while unhappy that so much material had been stolen from the engineer‘s storage yard, did seem to appreciate the fine quality of construction by the long range patrol carpenters and he allowed the wood to remain in place.

When it was completed, the LRRPs spacious new living quarters, operations and classroom buildings equaled anything to be found in Vietnam. Their own club provided a boost to morale and was a favorite place for patrol members to unwind when arriving back at the base camp after a mission. Matsuda appointed Non Commissioned Officer’s to manage the bar on rotating shifts and a Vietnamese day laborer named Lon was paid to clean the club after parties held the night before. The lively parties would often include guests such as helicopter crewmen from D Troop and with music blaring from tape decks, the gatherings would last late into the night. The company commander would try to have the men lower the volume, oftentimes without success, and the first sergeant usually let the music play on as he understood the need to let his men relax and blow off steam. 

The LRRPs prevailed upon Special Services to provide a pool table for their club and the men obtained a black and white television. The Armed Forces Network aired only one channel and programs such as “The Tonight Show” were several weeks old by the time they reached Vietnam. The news, however, was current and was read by soldiers from a studio in Saigon. There was considerable interest when war broke out between Israel and Egypt and shows about past wars were also popular. Roy Nelson remembers the time his men loaded into a helicopter after a difficult mission where they spent a day and a half avoiding Viet Cong who had fired warning shots throughout the area while searching for the patrol. As the helicopter made its way back to the base camp, Stephen Noonan pulled the tape back from Nelson‘s wrist watch and yelled into the first sergeant‘s ear, “Hey Top, we‘ll get back in time to watch ‘Combat’ on TV.”

The new compound adjoined the 9th Division‘s Old Reliable Academy which proved to be an advantage to the long range patrol. Not only did the academy have a mess hall which allowed the patrol members to eat their meals without having to perform the tedious detail of KP, but it was where soldiers arriving in the division received an orientation prior to reporting to their units. The long range patrol was given permission to make recruiting presentations to the academy and the representatives made a sharp appearance wearing their black berets and pressed tiger fatigues with LRRP scrolls on the left sleeves just above the 9th Division patch. The team members explained to the recent in-country arrivals that the LRRPs were not for everyone and only the most dedicated and physically fit would make it and be allowed the privilege of wearing the black beret. They went on to state that the excitement of operating undetected behind enemy lines in “Charlie’s backyard” could not be equaled

The only drawback to being next to the Old Reliable Academy was a bit of jealousy that developed from some of the academy‘s cadre who did not care for the “hotshot“ LRRPs who made recruiting trips into their area. Sometimes, especially after a few beers in the evening, words would be exchanged between the neighboring soldiers. To prevent any unauthorized hand-to-hand combat and to keep out uninvited visitors, Matsuda had concertina wire placed between the long range patrol and the Old Reliable Academy. As soon as the wire was strung, peace prevailed between the two units.

While the construction crews kept busy sawing wood and pounding nails, other members of the unit continued to conduct long range patrol operations. On August 21, 1967 a patrol led by Roy Nelson demonstrated the ability of the LRRPs to contribute information about the enemy to the division. Nelson‘ patrol was described in a front page story in the September 6, 1967 edition of the Old Reliable newspaper under the headline, “Viet Cong battalion base camp mopped up in 1st Bde sweep. 51 VC killed, many weapons seized.”

The 1st Brigade sweep was conducted after Nelson and patrol members Tom Kloak, Howard Munn, Jerry Fairweather and Hilan Jones found an enemy base camp that included 65 bunkers, fortified positions, three tunnels and four foxholes. As reported in the division newspaper: “A monsoon downpour masked the movements of the reconnaissance experts as they managed to crawl through tangled underbrush to within 30 feet of enemy soldiers. Recon team leader Master Sergeant Roy D. Nelson, 32, of Marysville, Washington described the complex: “We were in the underbrush watching a pair of armed VC sit out the heaviest part of the storm,” he said, “and because the rain was making such a racket on the canopy, the VC never heard a thing. The complex was so well concealed that we were right in the middle of the base camp almost before we realized it.”

Nelson went on, “It would have been impossible to move forward, so we went backward. Each time we moved a short distance, we‘d find another bunker complex. The whole system probably covered an area 300 meters by 500 meters.” The patrol then discovered an opening in the ground and Kloak dropped down to check it out. The hole was filled with rice. 

The men were able to observe the base camp without being detected for more than an hour before carefully making their way out of the area. Nelson knew that because the patrol had gone for two nights without any radio relay, and with the enemy all around, considerable caution would be called for as they moved through tall elephant grass toward a large LZ, nicknamed “JFK.” Nelson whispered for his men to “walk small.” Fortunately, the continued rain helped muffle any sounds made by the moving patrol and after reaching their pick-up point the men were extracted without incident. 

The patrol was debriefed as soon as they returned to Bearcat. When the size of the occupied base camp was realized by the division‘s intelligence staff, an arc light (B-52) strike planned for another area was diverted and the pilots told to drop their payload where Nelson and his men had patrolled. The Air Force bombs were unleashed from high above, out of sight and hearing of the enemy soldiers who were busy preparing breakfast in what they thought was the safety of their base camp. 

The bombs were right on target and the Viet Cong were caught by complete surprise. When elements of the 1st Brigade and 11th Armored Cavalry Regiment swept through the area later that morning, food was still in pots over the cooking fires used to prepare their meals. In addition to counting 51 enemy killed, the infantry and cavalry troopers rounded up eight detainees as well as an assortment of sophisticated weapons that included AK-47 rifles, RPG rocket launchers, a Chicom 7.62 machine gun and an 82mm mortar tube with 72 rounds. The soldiers also destroyed nearly 11,000 rounds of small arms ammunition and 28 grenades.

The 1st Brigade‘s intelligence officer, MAJ DiLorenzo, emphasized the dividends reaped during the quick infantry follow-up to the air strike when he said, “We didn‘t give the VC a chance to   gather their weapons before withdrawing from the battlefield. The sweep came so fast that we were able to establish that one of the captured rocket launchers -an RPG 7- had been made in Russia last summer.” He went on to add, “Most of the documents captured during the action have established that elements of the 1st and 3rd Battalions of the 274th VC Regiment were in the strike area.”    

Soldiers from the 2-39th Infantry continued a sweep through the base camp area the following day resulting in 14 additional enemy KIA along with the discovery of a cache of 10,000 rounds of small arms ammunition, seven AK-47 rifles, two RPG‘s with rounds and an assortment of equipment    that included a Chicom field radio. Later, another 9th Division unit, 4-39th Infantry, uncovered cluster bomb units, handmade claymore mines, 500 pounds of rice, a typewriter, Russian flag and 20 pounds of  documents.

After the sweeps were concluded, the commander of the 2-39th Infantry, LTC Myron Lee, was quoted as saying, “When intelligence is working for us we can hit the enemy when we choose and this is exactly what (we have) done so well this week.”  

The operation was a textbook example of how long range patrols can lead to success on the unconventional battlefield. When he returned from Nam and was assigned as an instructor in the Ranger Department, Stetson used Nelson‘s patrol to illustrate the value of long range patrols as an intelligence resource. He would tell captains attending the career course at Fort Benning, most of whom were headed for a tour in Vietnam, that when used properly, long range patrols were an excellent addition to a division‘s intelligence gathering capabilities. The key to success on the battlefield, he would stress, was the ability to act on information provided by the LRRPs in a timely manner.

Interacting with the intelligence staff at division headquarters could be frustrating for the LRRPs. The G-2 officers would often have preconceived ideas as to the nature of enemy activity in a given area. Their estimates would be derived from a variety of sources: higher headquarters, radio monitoring units, Vietnamese agents (sometimes employed by the Viet Cong to give disinformation) and by devices such as the “people sniffer,” a high-tech contraption placed on a helicopter and flown low-level over the jungle to detect ammonia from urine in enemy staging areas. The problem was the “people sniffer” could not determine if the ammonia had been created by a company of VC or a herd of elephants. Nevertheless, when division G-2 was handed a hot reading, they would often send a LRRP team to investigate certain the patrol would find enemy in the area. When a patrol would report back there was no sign of recent enemy activity in the AO (area of operations), the division staff officers would sometimes react as if, “The enemy had to be in there, you just did not find him.” 

The opposite attitude could also take place as when Roy Nelson‘s patrol returned after discovering the large enemy base camp complex. The division G-2  debriefing officer, a major, expressed considerable skepticism after hearing Nelsons, report that the patrol had found anything of significance. A cavalry unit had previously operated through the area without contact and the intelligence experts doubted the enemy could have moved in so quickly and constructed a base camp. When the youthful-looking first sergeant was debriefed he was still wearing a bloody fatigue jacket that held no indication of rank on the sleeves. Nelson told the doubting major he would “bet his stripes” that the patrol had found a large, enemy occupied base camp. When the major asked how many stripes he had, Nelson‘s reply of “six” startled the debriefing officer who was amazed to find the patrol had been led by such a high-ranking NCO. The first sergeant felt his believability factor increased when the major recognized his rank, yet he noted that while he was being questioned, Howard Munn was being debriefed in a separate room to verify the accuracy of the report. As he concluded the debriefing, the division staff officer pointed to Nelson‘s bloody fatigue jacket and asked if he had been wounded. “No sir,” the first sergeant replied, “this is what happens when you spend several nights on the ground in the jungle and the leeches find you.”    

Missions such as the one conducted by Nelson’ patrol helped establish the reputation of the long range patrol as a valuable intelligence asset for the 9th Infantry Division. Even when a patrol came back and reported no signs of recent enemy activity, the information was useful to the division’s intelligence staff and operations planners. It took a special soldier who would volunteer to conduct patrols deep in enemy territory and out of the range of friendly fire support. The missions called for courage, resourcefulness, integrity and teamwork. Most of the soldiers possessed the requirements to belong to an elite unit, but not all and occasionally someone would find their way into the long range patrol that did not belong there.

LT Stetson had concerns about one of the sergeants who served as a patrol leader, an individual who did not seem to always demonstrate the qualities needed for a leadership position. On one occasion when Stetson was leading a patrol, the sergeant was assigned radio relay duty. As the aircraft moved close to the patrol‘s position at the designated time, the patrol leader made contact with the sergeant, gave his report and asked for the location of the nearest LZ in case an emergency extraction was needed. There was a long pause and finally the sergeant came back and said he was unable to provide the information because “the big picture just flew out the window.” Stetson realized that the sergeant‘s map had blown out of the helicopter and he imagined what would happen if it fell into enemy hands complete with reference points, frequencies and call signs. The patrol leader did not feel comfortable until the patrol was safely extracted.

The loss of the map was an accident so the sergeant was given the benefit of the doubt and allowed to remain with the unit. In fact, it appeared he might have the makings of a dependable patrol leader when on his next mission; he managed to bring his men safely home after receiving enemy fire. The sergeant requested an emergency extraction after his patrol had made contact, gun ships and a pickup aircraft were scrambled and the men were pulled out. When the patrol returned to Bearcat the sergeant said it had been a close call and as proof, pointed to his canteen that had a bullet hole through it. Reporters picked up on the story and the Old Reliable newspaper published a photo of the sergeant holding his canteen. The cut line below the photo said the long range patrol leader would be looking for a new canteen as “the one he is holding won‘t hold water.” The caption continued “During a recent patrol the team leader spotted an enemy soldier 50 meters behind him. The enemy fired his rifle but struck the canteen instead of the sergeant.”

 Not long after the story was published in the paper, one of the men on the patrol came to Stetson with a troubled look and asked if he could speak with the officer. When asked what was wrong, the LRRP replied, “Sir, that mission we were on did not happen exactly the way the sergeant said it happened.” Stetson both anticipated and dreaded the response when he asked the patrol member if there had been any enemy contact. “No sir,” the soldier replied. “Our patrol leader took off his web gear and fired a round into his canteen so we would have a reason to get extracted.”

With a knot forming in his stomach, Stetson thought about the pilots. The LRRPs had spent nine months in country developing a bond of trust with some of the Army‘s best aviators who would risk both aircraft and crew to pull a patrol out of danger even if the call came in the middle of the night. If that if that bond of trust was broken, if there was doubt in the minds of the aviators when they received a call for an emergency extraction, the relationship between the two units would be jeopardized. To prevent that from happening, the sergeant had to be removed from the unit immediately. No disciplinary action was taken because an Article 15 would slow down the out processing. Losing the privilege of wearing the black beret and the prospect of being sent to a line outfit would serve as the punishment. Fortunately, the personnel office understood the need for the LRRPs to have trustworthy soldiers in the unit and in the rare instances when someone did not measure up, there was no delay in cutting the orders needed to remove him.

Training was a continuous process for members of the long range patrol and some of their activities could not escape notice by soldiers stationed at Bearcat. For example, whenever the LRRPs trained on the McGuire rig which was nothing more than a long rope with a harness on the end that could be dropped into the jungle when an emergency extraction was called for. In such a situation, the patrol members could slip into the McGuire harness and be pulled up through the trees to the helicopter hovering above. Roy Nelson was supervising one of the training sessions while wearing a foot cast from a previous injury. The cast, however, did not prevent Nelson from demonstrating how the McGuire rig worked and after snapping on the harness, the first sergeant was yanked into the air and took off high above the dusty base camp. At the same time, the commanding general emerged from his headquarters, looked up and noticed a soldier being pulled by a helicopter while dangling at the end of a rope while wearing a gleaming white cast on one of his feet. The general ordered his aide to find the name of the soldier who was going through that type of training while wearing a cast but Nelson never heard any repercussions. Perhaps when the general learned it was a LRRP first sergeant at the end of the rope, it explained everything.

Rappelling was conducted on a regular basis. There were not a lot of trees on the base camp but fortunately the D Troop area had one that was suitable for rappelling training. The LRRPs constructed a platform about 30 feet off the ground, nailed some climbing boards on the trunk, and they were in business. Once the soldiers had mastered the basics of rappelling off the platform, they progressed to coming out of a hovering helicopter.  

Physical training by the long range patrol was another activity that attracted attention. It was hard to miss a platoon of soldiers’ double timing over the Bearcat streets while singing, “I want to be an Airborne Ranger, jump from planes and live in danger.” Few of the units on the base conducted such activity yet the LRRPs realized fitness was essential in order for them to patrol with heavy packs and if the occasion demanded it, to outrun the enemy. Not all the men enjoyed running around the base camp during the middle of the day in high heat and humidity, but the runs helped build conditioning, mental toughness and a sense of unit esprit as soldiers trying to relax in the shade would shake their heads and mutter, “There go those crazy LRRPs.” Of course the runners would rub it in a bit by shouting, “On the right, sick call, sick call.”

Word got around that when it came to training, the 9th Division‘s long range patrol had things squared away. When the MACV Recondo School suspended operations in order to conduct training for their own personnel, arrangements were made for new in-country arrivals from the 101st Airborne long range patrol to be trained by the veteran LRRPs from the 9th. Roy Nelson conducted the initial briefing for a lieutenant and his men from the “Screaming Eagle” division shortly after they arrived at Bearcat to begin their training. Nelson received the impression that because the lieutenant and his men were “airborne,” and he and his trainers were “legs,” (non-airborne) there was not much need to go through training with the 9th Division soldiers. The 101st soldiers were not particularly attentive when Nelson said although most of the training would take place close to the perimeter of the base camp, there was still a chance of enemy contact and the same noise and light discipline procedures would be followed as if they were far from friendly support. In addition, he stressed the need for safety since everyone would be carrying live rounds.

The first sergeant’s safety message apparently did not reach all the airborne soldiers because as SP4 Daniel Salvatore helped teach a fast reaction drill just outside the berm at Bearcat, one of the new arrivals put a round through his leg. Nelson was furious when he learned of the shooting yet the airborne lieutenant acted as if it was “no big deal” since Salvatore had “only been wounded.” The first sergeant assured him that it was indeed a big deal because one of his best soldiers had been taken out of action. He informed the lieutenant that he needed to round up his men and prepare to report back to his unit.  

Before the 101st soldiers left Bearcat, they went on one final training mission and it too, did not go well. The training exercise took place near a rubber plantation where some of the airborne soldiers opened fire and killed a woodcutter and his water buffalo. Roy Barley was on stand down back at Bearcat and was asked to take his team out to the area in a deuce and a half and load up the woodcutter‘s ox cart. They reached the scene but as Barley and his men struggled to lift the heavy wooden ox cart into the back of the truck, warning shots were heard in the surrounding woods. The men left and headed to the woodcutter‘s village where his widow was paid for the loss of life. Barley was surprised to find the woman received more for the loss of the water buffalo than she did for her husband. By the time they left the village it was dark so the men hurried back to the base camp. When he arrived, Barley asked about the soldiers from the 101st and was told they had packed their bags and left.

The 9th Division LRRPs continued to demonstrate they could find the enemy as indicated in an October 25, 1967  Old Reliable newspaper article with the headline, “LRRP‘s count 9 VC after brief firefight.” The article‘s dateline is “Long Thanh” and in it, SGT Hilan Jones was quoted as saying, “Our patrol was nearing a landing zone where we were to be extracted when we noticed movement in a window of a house to our front.” Jones, from Thermopolis, Wyoming, continued, “As we crouched in the thick brush watching the house we could hear men talking about 50 meters to our front and rear.”  Team member SP4 Ed Beckley of Middletown, Conn. added, “About that time two men entered the house carrying weapons.” The patrol leader then radioed for permission to move in on the house.” I called for them to come out and when they heard me I saw them run for their weapons,” recalled Jones. “So I threw a grenade in and we opened fire.”

The firefight resulted in six enemy KIA and after sweeping the area before their extraction, the patrol detained a suspect found hiding in the bushes. In addition, four pounds of documents and six rifles were collected during the sweep. Jones and Beckley returned to the area with a reaction force from D Troop about an hour after the patrol was extracted. When fire was received from a house in the area, the reaction force opened up resulting in one enemy KIA. During the sweep by D Troop, two additional bodies were discovered, two suspects detained and two small arms, 50 pounds of military equipment and 500 pounds of rice captured. There were no friendly casualties during the operation.

The same patrol was described a bit more dramatically by A. F. Gonzalez and A. Bryan in an Article titled “Flop Hat Jungle Rats” in the August, 1968 issue of Saga Magazine: It had been a stinking mission. Here, the floppy-hatted GI scouts were dozens of miles deep into Viet Cong Territory and their Cambodian guide was puking his guts out, too weak to continue the cloak-and-dagger patrol. Its leader, 26 year old Sgt. Hilan Jones, finally muttered, “Screw it,” to himself and got on the radio to call in a chopper to get the team the hell out of there. They had been humping it out in the boonies for three days and hadn‘t seen a single Charlie.

The five men moved silently down toward the landing zone when suddenly Jones‘ hand went up for silence. From hooch along the trail came the sing-song sound of male Vietnamese voices. Charlie was having lunch, mistakenly thinking he was safe and sound, and a long way from Yank firepower. The patrol fanned out and closed in, knowing they would have to get rid of the VC before the choppers came into ground-fire range. The voices stopped as the Yanks tightened the noose. Jones crept toward the hut‘s back door, kicked it open, hosed down the luncheon scene with a whole magazine of M-16 ammunition and flipped in a grenade. As he hunkered down, a savage explosion tore the hooch apart and the Charlie’s scampered through the hut‘s front door for safety. The other GI‘s M-16s opened up and savage streams of fire crowded the doorway with the twisting bodies of dying VC. Six men were chopped down in a welter of blood. Two dove into the woods and got away. Another pair, blood-soaked, quivering with terror, came out with their hands up, just as the chopper arrived and began to hover for the pick-up. A 10-man VC squad had ceased to exist in just 30 seconds.

“We surprised them so completely,” says Jones, “that they never even got a round off at us. Out of the six rifles we captured- three Chicom pieces and three American M-2 carbines- only one had a round in the chamber. It was more an accident than anything else. We weren‘t actually looking for that sort of thing.”  

In the “Saga” account of Jones‘ patrol, reference was made to a “Cambodian guide.” The 9th Division LRRPs starting experimenting with the use of native guides during the second half of 1967. In their article, Gonzalez and Bryan wrote about the practice of long range patrols using native guides:    “These guides used to be ARVN scouts, and for a time a number of mercenaries from border tribes-Cambodians for the most part- were assigned to the LURPS. “We had our ups and downs with them” said Matsuda of the mercenaries. “We had 12 of them assigned to us and four of them were real good. The rest sort of ruined the program for the four good one. Their endurance is very short and after three days humping in the field, they‘re just about shot. Some of them had a problem with noise discipline. Surprisingly, we had a few that just couldn‘t control themselves once they saw Charlie in the field. They panicked. So rather than jeopardize the team some of the team leaders refused to take the mercenaries out. Of the four good ones, I would say their sense and perception is better than ours. They pick up trails, signs, things we very seldom pick up.”

The LRRPs discontinued using mercenaries and instead, started successfully working with VC defectors called, Tiger Scouts or Kit Carson Scouts. The defectors were usually familiar with the AO and as Matsuda pointed out, “they know the terrain, and they know how Charlie sets up the traps, where to look for them and where to look for caches.”                              

 In November, a patrol‘s close encounter with the enemy again made Old Reliable headlines in an article titled, “LRRP’s slip away from VC dragnet.” When the patrol, led by SSG Emory Parrish of Fullerton, California, first moved into position, they heard a single rifle shot but then, nothing more except normal jungle sounds. After a couple of hours, PFC Thomas Perzanowski of Syracuse, Indiana began hearing increased jungle noises and sticks popping. “The noises seemed to be coming from my left, then my right and rear.”  

 The LRRP‘s remained silent until the intruders began throwing sticks in their direction, “trying to get us to give away our positions,” according to Perzanowski. One of the sticks hit a bush in front of Perzanowski and then struck him. “The sticks were coming in from both sides,” he explained. The patrol leader used a night vision device and spotted two VC. One of them was carrying a Chicom carbine. Parrish added, “They were just standing around eyeing our area like they weren‘t sure we were there.”  

 As the VC tightened their net, Parrish signaled back and moments later, two helicopter gun ships and an extraction helicopter were on their way. Then a VC who had advanced dangerously close to the LRRP position stepped on a stick which cracked loudly. The recon team quickly opened fire. “We maintained a steady volume of fire,” stated Perzanowski. “On about my 15th shot, I hit a VC to my front.”

The shooting continued for about 15 minutes at an estimated seven to ten enemy soldiers before the patrol broke contact and moved to the extraction LZ, each man grasping the belt of the man in front as they moved through the darkness. The patrol was safely picked up and Parrish was quoted afterwards, “None of our men got excited. Everyone functioned just as he was taught. If they hadn‘t, we never would have escaped that area.”

Matsuda understood the stress produced by his men operating “up close and personal” with the enemy. So in addition to providing them with spacious living accommodations and a club in which they could relax after completing their patrols, the commander arranged for the LRRPs to receive two out of country R&R‘s whereas most soldiers were allocated just one. He also saw to it that his men had priority when they made their R&R selections so that most were able to visit the country of their choice. Movies were a popular way to relax between missions and there was convenient viewing next door at the headquarters company where a sheet tied to a wooden frame served as the screen while the audience sat outdoors.  

Through the ages, military units have had pets as mascots and the 9th Division long range patrol was no exception. A number of Vietnamese dogs found their way onto Bearcat looking for handouts and one, a white, medium-sized mutt with a black circle around one eye, wound up spending his time with the long range patrol. He was quickly adopted and named “Lurp” by the men.

Lurp was loved by the soldiers and he appeared in a great number of photos and slides. Never camera shy, it was almost as if he enjoyed posing. He was included in unit activities and even took rides in a helicopter. Once when Stetson rode in the back of a Huey to pick up a patrol, he took Lurp along with him. As the patrol members scrambled on board the hovering chopper, broad smiles broke out as they spotted their favorite dog. “Lurp,” they said while giving him a friendly pat on the head. Unfortunately, the story of “Lurp, the Long Range Patrol Dog,” did not have a happy ending as he was run over by a deuce and a half in Dong Tam. His memory, however, will remain with the soldiers who knew him for they considered the dog to be the long range patrol‘s best friend.

Just as soldiers reporting to the 9th Division went through the Old Reliable Academy before beginning operations in the field with their units, those selected to become members of the long range patrol would undergo an intense period of training in the unit‘s own recondo school before they could join a team. Applicants had already been screened prior to joining the LRRPs. CPT Matsuda required a GT score of at least 100, which was above average, because the men had to be able to read a map, plus have the ability to assume leadership of a patrol should the occasion demand it. There was also the interview process which would attempt to weed out those who did not possess the temperament required to be a LRRP. It took an individual who enjoyed the challenge of infiltrating into enemy territory, remaining calm as bad guys passed by a stone‘s throw away, and someone able to endure the hardships presented by sleeping on the ground during rainstorms with no cover or protection against the ever-present mosquitoes and leeches other than the insect repellant they carried.

 It took stamina to endure the hardship of spending nights in the jungle with little sleep or at best, restless sleep. The slightest unfamiliar noise would have the patrol immediately awake with senses straining to determine if danger was present. If a soldier was to snore or talk in his sleep, one of the other patrol members would place a hand over his mouth while shaking him awake. And the frequent downpours in the middle of the night made sleep difficult. Emory Parrish summed it up nicely in the “Flop Hat Jungle Rats” article when he said, “Out in the jungle the weather changes drastically. It‘s real hot during the day and at night it‘s freezing. Around one in the morning the temperature in the jungle may drop suddenly by as much as 15 degrees, from 75 down to 60. You‘re sweating during the day; your clothes are all wet. Then at night it turns cold. You really feel it.”

The applicant had to be a team player, able to follow orders given by the patrol leader and carry out his assigned responsibilities within the patrol. The men depended on each other for survival and there could be no weak links. Finally, those desiring to become a LRRP had to be in good physical condition. Overweight soldiers who could not move quickly in and out of helicopters were not good candidates and it helped to have excellent hearing and vision. Once a soldier had passed the screening process, he was ready to attend the 9th Infantry Division‘s Long Range Patrol Recondo School and begin the training required to become a LRRP.

While patrol members put the finishing touches on the classroom building and obstacle course to be used by students going through the Recondo School, the unit commander worked to produce a program of instruction (POI) that would detail every aspect of the training. The POI ended up as a 19-page document. Its cover page read:

1. The 9th Division Recondo School Program of Instruction is a two week course designed to train personnel in the specialized skills and techniques of reconnaissance work.

2. This program of instruction was derived from the varied experience of 9th Division LRRP teams operating in the Republic of Vietnam from 1 January 1967 until 1 October 1967. Lessons learned from other LRRP units and 5th Special Forces have been incorporated into this program of instruction.

The program of instruction broke the two-week school into 12 major subject areas totaling 205 hours as follows: 

Subject                                     Hours

Administration                          3

Communications                        7

Physical Training                       18

Medical Training                        3

Intelligence                               5

Patrolling                                  56

Supporting Fires                         8

Air Operations                            5

Weapons                                   13

Map Reading                              23

Combat Operations                     57

Critique/Review/Exam               7

Each subject was detailed in a separate annex that specified the number of classes, their length and the material that would be covered. For example, the 5-hour “Intelligence” block of instruction was divided into three classes: VC Weapons and Tactics (2 hours), Terrain Analysis (2 hours) and Combat Intelligence (1 hour.) The annex also gave a “scope” for each class. The scope for terrain analysis stated: “Teaches the students how to use a map and aerial photos and make a detailed analysis of the area of operation. Instruction includes a practical exercise of making a detailed overlay of likely VC routes, base areas, and positions.”  

The physical training portion of the recondo school included a swimming test (must be able to swim 80 meters), a PT test (sit ups, push ups, pull ups, rope climb and one mile run) confidence course (must negotiate a 30‘ high log walk, climb and descend a 40’ vertical rope ladder with equipment, traverse a three log belly buster and a 20‘ rope commando crawl.) In addition, there would be daily road marches with full equipment, starting at two miles and concluding on the seventh day with a seven mile march that had to be completed in less than 90 minutes. On the eighth day the running portion of the program would begin starting with one mile and concluding on the final day with a five mile run. Students would begin each session of physical training with repetitions of Army drill. “Starting position, move. At my command, exercise.”

The largest portion of the formal instruction was devoted to patrolling. Classes included camouflage and concealment, escape and evasion, equipment, organization and security, methods of infiltration and exfiltration, patrol preparation and survival. Patrolling also included five hours of immediate action drills where students were taught how to break contact when the enemy was encountered from the front, rear or either side along with the principles of escape and evasion to be used if normal exfiltration was not possible. The students were broken down into five man teams with each team running two live fire exercises. The live fire exercise included use of the M16 rifle, fragmentation grenades and white phosphorous (willie peter) grenades.      

 Live fire was also used in a patrolling class called “jungle lanes.” The scope for this two-hour block of instruction stated, “Formal instruction in quick fire techniques and engaging camouflaged targets. Each student is accompanied by an instructor and is walked through a jungle lane set up with pop up targets in dense vegetation. The student must find and engage the target quickly and effectively.”  

 Students had to pass a two-part final exam (map reading and general subjects) with a minimum grade of 70 before they could graduate from the Recondo School, but the real test if they would make it as a LRRP was the 57-hour phase called “Combat Operation.” It began with a warning order for a patrol mission and as detailed in the program of instruction, the class “requires the student to go through the entire process in the conduct of a successful reconnaissance operation. The students remain in the field approximately 2 days on an actual mission. Every recon team has a faculty advisor who evaluates the students on all phases of their performance.”

The training patrols were inserted into what was considered a “cold” area of operations, one in which there had been little enemy activity in recent months. There were no signs, however, posted telling the enemy to, “Keep out. Patrol training area.” If Charlie knew there was a patrol with four “newbies” getting their feet wet for the first time, he might well come looking for such an inviting target. The training patrols at the MACV Recondo School in Nha Trang also tried to insert into relatively cold AO‘s but the enemy was unpredictable and sometimes contact would be made and casualties taken. The students knew the mission was for real and hearts pounded a bit faster as camouflage was applied, weapons were test fired and the patrol moved out for that first insertion.

When the recondo students had passed their written tests, the physical tests and the combat operation, they were ready for a graduation ceremony where they received congratulatory remarks from the LRRP commander along with a coveted black beret distinguishing them as a member of the long range patrol. Even though they wore a beret and a long range patrol scroll on their sleeve, Matsuda knew the true test of whether the soldier could cut it as a LRRP would come only after that first contact had been made with the enemy. He had seen some return from a close call “jumpy and shaky” and did not want to go out again. If that was the case, there would be no ridicule, no name calling, the soldier would simply be transferred out of the unit.

Patrols operated in the field under guidelines developed by Matsuda in the unit‘s Standard Operational Procedure (SOP.) The 31-page SOP outlined all aspects of patrol operations and had ten annexes dealing with such areas as infiltration and exfiltration methods, air operations, patrol organization and security, patrol equipment, fire support and reporting.

The Organization and Security annex listed the responsibilities and duties for each member of a five-man patrol as follows:

A. Point man. The first man in the order of march is the point man. He is responsible for frontal security, locating booby traps and immediate danger areas. He must maintain and follow an accurate azimuth and initiates halts in immediate danger areas.

B. Team leader. He uses his discretion as to his position in movement. Usually, the most advantageous position for controlling movement is second in file. He ensures every team member knows his location at all times, guides the point man as necessary, notes distances covered, carries radio and makes radio checks, keeps an accurate and up-to-date patrol log. He must make an over flight of the area of operation, an inspection of all weapons and equipment, and rehearsal of all team actions and reactions. He carries a pill kit which contains:

1. Codeine (Cough Suppressant)

2. Destroampetimene (Pep Pill)

3. Polymagma (Anti-Diarrhea)

4. Tetracycline (Ant-Biotic)

5. Darvon (Pain Reliever)

6. Morphine Syrette (Severe Pain Reliever)

C. Senior observer. He records distance and assigned flank security, carries the long antenna, and any other necessary equipment such as a claymore, etc.

D. Senior observer. He is responsible for assigned flank security, carries the spare battery for the PRC 25, and any other equipment such as a claymore, etc.

E. Assistant team leader. He is responsible for rear security, carries the URC 10 back up radio, erases the team‘s trail, keeps an additional patrol log and pace count, takes over as team leader if and when the team leader is wounded.

The SOP specified that each patrol member “must know the nature and purpose of the mission, including infiltration and extraction, landing zones, route of travel, enemy and friendly situation, escape and evasion routes, supporting elements, call signs and signals, and reporting times.” The SOP also detailed the three formations to be used by patrols: file (used in movement), circle (long halts) and column (breaking contact and wide open areas.) The SOP contained the following procedure for breaking contact: “If the point man is compromised, he fires in the direction of the enemy until his magazine is empty. Simultaneously the team splits into a column, taking two steps to their respective flanks, the team leader moves to his right and the remainder of the team goes to the opposite flank of the man in front. As soon as the point man empties his magazine, he runs down the center of the column, and the team leader fires his magazine and breaks down the center following the point man. This procedure is followed to the 4th man in the column who throws a white phosphorous grenade, empties his magazine and breaks to the rear. The assistant team leader is the last man to fire. This procedure can be repeated until contact is broken, remembering that there is no lull between any of the magazines fired. The large volume of fire and the willie peter (grenade) is usually sufficient to break contact.”  

The mission of the long range patrol as stated in the SOP was: “To acquire information about the enemy through visual ground reconnaissance.” The paragraph following the unit‘s mission, was headed, “Capabilities,” and it contained a single sentence that reflected the commander’s philosophy, one that would result in significant changes in the way the long range patrol conducted operations. The SOP stated the long range patrol had the capability:

A. To conduct visual ground reconnaissance in jungle type terrain for periods of 1 to 7 days. When supply is feasible, the mission can be continued for a total of 11 days.

B. To conduct small-sized ambushes on combat patrols.

C. To conduct visual ground reconnaissance in the Mekong Delta for periods from 12 to 48 hours unless the terrain permits extended operations.  

Prior to Clancy Matsuda assuming command, ambush patrols were not considered. The LRRPs attending MACV Recondo School had been told they were reconnaissance experts and they should never reveal their locations by making noise in enemy territory. With just five men on a patrol, it was thought too dangerous to open up on an enemy of unknown size. Matsuda, however, thought of the LRRPs as “warriors,” which meant that given the right opportunity, his patrols could take the fight to an unsuspecting enemy. Sound judgment would have to be used. It would be foolish to initiate contact on the point element for a VC company. Ambushes would have to be conducted in areas where patrols had radio contact so that if necessary, a reaction force could be dispatched immediately. The LRRP commander felt, however, that carefully selected ambushes would make the enemy apprehensive about operating in areas he once considered safe and they were worth the risk.

Matsuda‘s addition of ambushes to the unit‘s capabilities did not win immediate acceptance by all members of the long range patrol. There were a few who pointed out there was no “A” in “LRRP.” The commander knew there would be those opposed to the change and so the policy of sending out ambush patrols was implemented gradually. The majority of the patrols continued to be reconnaissance in nature but the patrol leaders knew that should the circumstances be favorable, an ambush could be conducted.

By November 1967, the final class of new patrol members was enrolled in the 9th Division’s Recondo School. When the 23 recondo students graduated on the 13th of the month, it would bring the long range patrol company up to 100% in strength. Thus, Matsuda selected the date to be called “Organization Day.” Not only would there be a graduation ceremony, but the unit would officially become E Company, 50th Infantry. To commemorate the occasion there would be a review of troops by the commanding general, demonstrations of LRRP’s in action and an open house to show off their new facilities. 

The LRRP’s worked hard in preparation for the big event. Buildings were cleaned, equipment displays were constructed, coordination was made with pilots, rehearsals conducted for the demonstrations and practice runs were taken on the obstacle course. The company commander had the LRRP Standard Operational Procedure and Recondo School Program of Instruction put in special binders and placed on a table in the entrance to the classroom building for visitors to look at. Stetson had concerns about the SOP being placed in the open as it contained sensitive information such as how patrols were inserted but CPT Matsuda assured his lieutenant that only friendly eyes would be viewing their SOP. Instead of worrying about the SOP, the LRRP commander told Stetson he needed to prepare to serve as the commander of troops for the parade formation. Matsuda explained that he would be with the commanding general in the reviewing party and that all Stetson had to do was to salute when the general stood before him and report, “Sir, your long range patrol is ready for inspection.”

Organization Day finally arrived and the company area looked spotless. So did the men in their tiger fatigues, polished boots and black berets as they stood in formation at parade rest. Stetson in his best command voice, called the unit to attention as the commanding general approached. He gave a smart salute but when he looked at the two shining silver stars on the general‘s hat, he suddenly lost his composure and shouted out, “Sir, your long range patrol is ready for instruction.” The general gave him a puzzled look and Stetson quickly corrected himself saying, “I mean, ready for inspection.”  

Despite the glitch by the commander of troops, the commanding general was visibly pleased with the accomplishments of the division’s long range patrol and their new facilities. In his remarks, the general praised the LRRP’s for providing “a great deal of information about enemy movements, action and supply upon which larger units could act.” After the general concluded his remarks, a demonstration of a LRRP insertion and extraction was held.

The following account of the Organization Day demonstration appeared in the November 29, 1967 edition of the Old Reliable newspaper:  “A helicopter swooped down over LRRP headquarters, flared into a hover and dangled two 80’ ropes earthward. In seconds, four heavily armed, camouflaged figures had rappelled to the ground and fanned out in practice formation. While a narrator explained the insertion procedure, a simulated contact was made and attention focused just outside the adjacent base camp berm where a smoke bomb had been thrown. The smoke indicated the location of the LRRP’s waiting for extraction while under enemy fire.  

In seconds, a helicopter light fire team was making low-level firing passes, spewing rockets and mini gun fire. Additional passes brought the familiar whump, whump of exploding grenades as the gun ship’s grenade launchers beat back the enemy in preparation for the extraction.”      

The paper gave the day additional coverage in the December 6th edition when several photos were printed of Tyrone Muse demonstrating use of the confidence course. The cut-line read: “PFC Tyrone Muse, 19, of Baltimore a member of the 9th Division’s LRRP detachment works out on the unit‘s confidence course during recent Organizational Day activities. In the top photo, Muse shows grim determination to pull himself across a tightrope bridge. Below, he leaps from a log bridge after sprinting across it.”

December was a month of anticipation for the original LRRPs who had formed the unit at Fort Riley, Kansas for they were getting “short,” which meant they did not have much time left in country. All had been counting the days until their DEROS (date estimated return from overseas) and they took pride in teasing the newer members just how short they were. (I‘m so short I could fit in a matchbox.) There was also a sense of anticipation by all LRRP’s because there was a rumor floating around Bearcat that the base camp would host a visit by Bob Hope‘s traveling USO show. The famous entertainer had performed for some of their fathers during World War II and every Christmas since he had visited overseas military bases during the Christmas holidays. Many of the shows had been filmed for TV specials the soldiers had watched while growing up so they were fully aware of the huge boost to morale created when Hope showed up accompanied by beautiful singers, dancers and actresses.  

The itinerary for Hopes shows in Vietnam during December 1967 was classified. The Army did not want to advertise such an inviting target, several thousand GI‘s gathered in front of an outdoor stage, ahead of time. However, when a stage was constructed at Bearcat it appeared what had been rumor might actually turn out to be true. The final proof came several days in advance when the LRRP’s received word that Hope would indeed be visiting Bearcat but that headquarters wanted a patrol out in the jungle during the show to make certain there was no enemy activity in the area. Every LRRP had his heart set on seeing the Bob Hope Show, Ann Margaret was just one of the entertainers he had with him that year, and it was difficult selecting a team to pull patrol duty while Bearcat watched the show. Finally, five men who were within a couple of weeks of rotating back to the states, volunteered to conduct the mission. The patrol found no signs of the enemy, the show went off without incident and when the LRRPs returned back to the base camp, they heard what a great performance they had missed.

At midnight on New Years Eve, streams of red tracers filled the air over Bearcat as the men celebrated the conclusion of 1967. It had been a year in which the 9th Division Long Range Patrol demonstrated it could operate in a hostile environment. One LRRP had been killed in action and a number had been injured or wounded. More would be lost in the years that followed, especially as operations picked up in the Delta and the LRRPs took the fight to the Viet Cong. The first 9th Division LRRP‘ established a unit from scratch that went on to locate and help defeat a determined enemy up to the day the last troops were pulled out of Vietnam. The soldiers who wore the black berets in the 9th Infantry Division did their part towards contributing to the well-known and true motto: “Rangers lead the way.”  

I was all of 20 years old and not really looking forward to my first Christmas far from home, especially in Viet Nam.  I figured that the Bob Hope Christmas Show would be a great way to try to forget about home.  Not so much for the show itself but for all the other soldiers sharing the same fate and memories.  The laughter was bound to help.  I knew that as a new guy in the unit, having been there since Oct 1, 1967 there was a slight chance I might be called to run a mission during the Christmas truce but was reassured by my Team Leader James Martin that would not happen.  Late morning of the 24th I was told to report to the HQ.  Along with myself were a number of guys who came in when I did, along with those who were in the Recondo School right after we were.  I had been a Team Leader on the Recondo School mission and felt comfortable in the jungle running with Jim Martins team.

We were advised that we were selected (actually newest guys in the unit) to run missions to observe what the VC were up to during the truce.  I remember the team I was on consisted of some great soldiers, Jim Glaze (a two tour Veteran, airborne and tough as nails), Greg Foreman (big blond surfer dude who I would latter run a number of missions with and who soon would have his own team), Bob Wallace, (quiet and serious) and I forget who else was selected.  I think that Wallace was the TL but I cannot be sure.  The team was truly a throw together as we had never run missions together before, but since we all were trained and knew the SOP of the unit we felt comfortable. We drew our rations for 5 days and double-checked our equipment as the selected team leaders did their over flights to select the LZs and see what ever they could see from the air.  None of us were real happy about going our over Christmas but we all realized that it had to be done.

Christmas Eve we climbed aboard our birds that were to insert the various teams in the selected Areas of Operation (AO) at last light.  There is a thing called pucker power.  This is where your asshole shuts so fast that it glues your ass to the deck of the bird.  This was what the level of tension the men were at as we prepared for insertion.  All weapons loaded and ready, not knowing what was waiting upon landing.  Actually landing was not quite what happened.  Generally men left the aircraft between 10 and 4 feet, so all were on the ground in a matter of seconds as the bird swooped in and never really came to a hover.  This and extracting were the most dangerous times of the mission.  We inserted quietly and held a tight circle just in the wood line listening for movement to determine if we had been spotted.  Nothing unusual at all and everything was calm and we had made a clean insertion.  We had to find a place to hold up for the night and went further into the wood line.  We crossed a hard pack wide trail and were careful as we crossed it one at a time.  It was getting dark and we found a bamboo thicket to hunker down in not far off the trail (only a couple of meters).

As darkness came quickly in the jungle the team had to quickly set up in a wagon wheel with all heads to the center.  This was so we had 360 degree of coverage and that anyone trying to find us in the thicket would make a racket trying to get in.  We had an over flight check sometime after darkness to make sure we were set for the night.  I was too concerned with absorbing the jungle noise and listening for anomalies than to think about Christmas.  I was the closest team member to the trail when we set up and I don’t know how that happened but if contact came from the trail I’d be first in line.  After a while the tension kind of seeped away and my eyelids got heavy and I drifted off to sleep.  It was our standard procedure to sleep unless we had movement near by.  Now I know that sounds crazy now, 5 men, deep in enemy territory, falling asleep, but it always worked well.  When I was going through the school it sounded nuts to me but it did work. 

I do not know what time it was when I was awaken to the sound of oxen pulling carts and the voices of the Vietnamese as they moved so slowly down the trail that we had crossed a few hours before.  The grunts of the oxen told me the carts were loaded with something that the VC would be using against us in the future.  We had landed right next to a section of the Ho Chi Min trail.  I silently prayed that they would just keep going and that my feet were in the bamboo thicket.  A one point the convoy took a break and stopped to rest for a few minutes.  The oxen train had seem to be endless as it moved along with noise, but when they stopped the silence was deafening.  At that moment one of the team members snored and before my hand could get to his mouth and nose several other hands were already there.  The Vietnamese had heard the snore as excited voices sent one individual looking for the source.  I did not even have my M-16 in my hands and moved quickly and silently to lay my hand on the handgrip and trigger while the VC decided to try to check out our bamboo thicket.  He stopped right at my feet and was trying to see what had made that noise.  I prayed that no one would make a sound and that this VC would find nothing of interest and head back to his convoy.  He stood there for what seemed to be hours as we fought every instinct to open fire, knowing that our orders were not to fire unless fired upon.  Also knowing how dangerous a night extraction would be and we would not know what we were facing in enemy strength.  I tried to silence my breathing as to not give him any reason to hang around.  I could make out his outline and I saw an AK at port arms.  After a bit he spoke to his comrades and headed back to the convoy.  I could hear them speaking before the convoy started up again, probably thought it was a wild pig or some other animal.  He never knew how close he came to dying that night and I was relieved that I did not have to take a life that night.  As the convoy was moving again with all its squeaks and groans and creaking of wood Wallace moved his mouth to my ear and whispered: “ If he comes back again put one round through his head and we head back to the LZ.”  I just did not have the heart to tell him that if he did come back again I would open up with all I had and hopefully make them think they had hit something larger that just 5 ordinary guys.  

Needless to say we did not get any sleep the rest of that night as we listened to the ox cart convoy make its way down the train.  It seemed like hours before all movement stopped for good as the last ox cart went past.  We had remained undetected and observed and listened to report what we had back to Division the next day.

Christmas day started like any other day in the jungles of Viet Nam…Hot and humid.  While the T/L radioed the previous nights finding I decided to see as much of the trail as I could from where I was.  The trail had some wagon wheel ruts that it did not have the day before and you could see footprints right at the edge of our thicket.  If the VC had taken one more step he would have stepped on me.  Close!  The T/L told every one that we were moving further from the trail as they wanted us to observe a trail along side a Trace.  A Trace was a wide path plowed through the Jungles by large Roman plows that, it was hoped, would stop movement of supplies by the enemy.  This was obviously someone’s idea that had never set foot on the ground. It was far from nice and neat as it had looked from the air.  Trees were down every which way and movement in the trace was very difficult for anyone.  You had to climb over and under all sorts of mangled jungle vegetation that was laying all sorts of different ways.  The VC had simply moved their trails to another sector of the jungle and went about business as usual.

So on Christmas day, with whispered “Merry Christmas” to all and from all we headed toward a new location.  Actually it wasn’t all that far (less than 100 meters) and located between the Trace and the trail.  A very small area to set up in.  Somehow I ended up looking out on the trace, a ringside seat.  There were some small trees amongst us and I had two fallen trees in between the trace and me. They were about about 18 inches in diameter and offered some cover from being spotted by anyone on the Trace.  We ate some LRRP rations and observed the trace and the trail all day and into the night.  We heard no more traffic on the trail and it was all quiet that night and the next night also. 

In the early hours just before dawn on the 27th I had an eerie feeling that I was being watched.  As dawn broke I had a visitor.  It was an Ocelot at my feet standing on the log with its front feet and watching me.  I had barely cracked an eye to see it and did not want to scare it away.  I watched for as long as I could, about 5 minutes and then I moved.  It literally disappeared as it moved so fast.  I kind of felt it was looking for a meal and was sizing me up.  Very strange occurrence and not the last one I would have with the snakes and animals of the jungles of Viet Nam. 

The days went slow and the nights slower as we stayed in that one place much longer than we ever had before.  I knew this was not good and against everything we knew about patrolling, but our job was to stay in place.  The confirmation that we had stayed too long came on the 29th as I heard scratching on my poncho.  When I lifted the poncho I had all sorts of nasty little things with pinchers trying to get to me.  I think they were termites of some type but they sure could bite.  I decided to soak the area with Bug Juice and that got rid of them.  The only problem was the smell given off of the repellent was foreign to the jungle and readily recognized by friend and foe alike.  The poncho back in place seemed to kill most of the smell.  At least those damn bugs no longer attacked me.  We thought we were being pulled out on the 29th (5th day).  Imagine our surprise that we were to stay in place for another day.  We had taken along rations and water for 5 days and were very low on both.  In our AO there were no streams to refill from so we stretched what we had.  On the 30th we again were told that we had to stay in place and this was not good in that the trail became active again along with the far side of the Trace.  Not good.  The morning of the 31st we were told again to stay in place.  This time I got on the radio and told HQ that would no need to pull us out, but to send out the body bags with the graves registration team.  We had over stayed our time and our luck was running out.  We had no food or water at this point and really running on pure luck.  We were told to expect a pick up around noon that day.  It was around 1pm when we were advised to prepare for extraction.  We waited on the edge of the trace and as soon as the bird was on its final descent headed toward it through all the entangled brush and fallen trees.  The pilot had landed some distance from us and we had to hustle through that mess to get to the bird.  It was not one of our regular pilots and this guy was a real ass-hole.  We made it and were extracted with no incident.  After we arrived at the company area we were debriefed.  After a hot shower and a few brews we sat around drinking as 1968 came around.  The base camp opened up with tracers, etc. when the midnight hour arrived.  What a holiday season that was.   

Combat Infantryman Badge SPECIAL ORDERS NUMBER 88 19 March 1967

GARRISON, Edwin B. 05329645 2LT 1542 IN Trp D, 3d Sqdn, 5th Cav

HASS, William C. US55885225 SP4 E4 11B20 IN Trp D, 3d Sqdn, 5th Cav

HERNANDEZ, Robert US56424309 SP4 E4 11B20 IN Trp D, 3d Sqdn, 5th Cav

JENKINS, Freddie D. US54381832 SP4 E4 11B20 IN Trp D, 3d Sqdn, 5th Cav

KLOACK, Thomas R. US55896495 SP4 E4 11B20 IN Trp D, 3d Sqdn, 5th Cav

KULCAVAGE, Edward US51571308 SP4 E4 11B20 IN Trp D, 3d Sqdn, 5th Cav

MOSS, David R. US53443037 SP4 E4 11B20 IN Trp D, 3d Sqdn, 5th Cav

NOONAN, Stephen D. US51604287 SP4 E4 11B20 IN Trp D, 3d Sqdn, 5th Cav

PATRICK, Michael P. US55896492 SP4 E4 11B20 IN Trp D, 3d Sqdn, 5th Cav

ALVEAR, Alfred US54381809 PFC E3 11B20 IN Trp D, 3d Sqdn, 5th Cav

COONROD, Lawrence W. US55846249 PFC E3 11B20 IN Trp D, 3d Sqdn, 5th Cav

COX, John S. US53440608 PFC E3 11B20 IN Trp D, 3d Sqdn, 5th Cav

FERRARO, Don L. US56428380 PFC E3 11B20 IN Trp D, 3d Sqdn, 5th Cav

1968 Compiled by Hilan Jones

Kenneth Marze was drafted into the army and started infantry training at Fort Pork, Louisiana in July of 1967.  If you have ever been to Louisiana in the middle of summer you can appreciate the miserable heat and humidity, if not you can only guess.  About the only good thing to say about it is that you were acclimated to the conditions of South East Asia with out having been there.  This was a plus as most all of the infantry trainees would be going to Vietnam upon completion of their training.                                   

Marze was no exception and after a 30-day leave, he arrived at the Bien Hua Airfield in the Republic of Vietnam on the January 5, 1968.  Marze was an 18-year-old, full of piss and vinegar, anxious to get the war over with.  Stationed at the 9th Division base camp at Bearcat with the 2/47th Infantry he learned that the LRRPs were looking for volunteers.  He threw his name in the ring to become a LRRP and by the end of January 1968, he was accepted.

It had been almost a year since the first casualty, Leroy Lynn Miles, of the LRPD.  Kenneth Ray Lancaster of Silver Spring, Maryland, became the second while in the final phase of training, the combat patrol, at the MACV Recondo School.  There are varying accounts of that fateful morning of 3 January, 1968.  Following is the most accurate as seen through the eyes of a man that was on that mission, Tony "Ape" Hanlon.

"I feel I need to set the record straight concerning the events regarding Ken Lancaster's death.  The excerpt from 'Rangers at War LRRPs in Vietnam' is not the truth.  There was no fire fight that morning.  The following account of the events that day is as accurate as I remember them. 

I had the misfortune of being with Ken Lancaster on the student patrol when he fell from the chopper skid.  There were seven men on the team:  Special Forces Sergeant First Class Jason T. Woodworth, one Korean liaison officer Lieutenant Chi Keun Hong, Kenneth Lancaster, George Kozach, William Rudge, Tony Hanlon, and a Korean student.  We had inserted at dusk into a very small landing zone halfway up a mountainside.  The chopper couldn't land forcing us to jump five to ten feet to the ground.  As point man I was first out, then Woodworth and Lancaster, followed by the remainder of the team.  We grouped, set a perimeter, monitored the area for a bit, and then proceeded down the mountain.  Near the base of the mountain we found super high speed trail four to five feet wide.  We crossed the trail, got to the bottom of the mountain and started up the other mountain.  I don't remember how far or how long we traveled but we did take a break.

I need to regress to shortly after I arrived in the Nam.  I cut one or two coils off the spring that held tension on the selector switch so I could flip my 16 to auto easier and quicker.  While moving in the dark, somehow my selector switch was moved to semi.  During our rest stop I was moving slightly to adjust my position, my M16 resting against my left shoulder, the barrel near my cheek when it discharged.  After I got my night vision back we were told to move out.  We moved up the mountain for the remainder of the night.  At daybreak we came upon a somewhat level area overgrown by elephant grass. The team prepared the pick up zone while the SFC Woodworth called for extraction.

Now here's the really ------- up part.  Three birds came into view from behind the mountain , the pick-up bird and two Cobras or Gun ships, I don't remember for certain which.  I do remember all three choppers were firing everything they had. The pick-up bird came in, set one skid near the ground and hovered while the team loaded on.  To our amazement there were two men riding on the pick-up bird.  We scrambled onto the chopper and it lifted off unaware that Lancaster and Kozach were still on the ground.  I'll never forget the look of sheer terror on the door-gunners face as I boarded.  He was firing his M60 into the tree line.  We didn't know Lancaster and Kozach hadn't gotten on board and were holding on to the skid as we lifted off the ground.  I don't remember how high we were when we became aware of Lancaster's grave situation. The team members on that side of the chopper tried to pull him in but were unable to.  When Ken fell, it was as if time had stopped.

This was a ------- nightmare and shock.  I need to back up to the extraction.  We (the team) didn't know there were two pick-up birds, the second one picked up Kozach without incident.  Why were there two men in the first bird?  Who knows? I don't.  Why wasn't the team informed of two pick up birds?  Who knows? I don't.  SFC Woodworth was the most learned man on the team.  He should have been the last one into the chopper.  However, Ken Lancaster did what we were all about; making sure his team was safe, costing his life. “Rest in peace Ken." 

Marze was a husky lad and certainly looked the part in his camouflage battle dress, hands and face painted black and green to blend into the surrounding jungle.  He was indoctrinated into the LRRPs fast and was selected to fill in on a ten-man ambush patrol.  Preparing for his first mission, he was thankful for the training at Fort Polk, as the weather was hot and sultry. 

The ambush was set along a trail that showed visual sign of recent use and gave a high probability of success.  The patrol barely got the claymores in place and settled into position when 10 NVA came walking down the trail.  The guy that was supposed to set off the claymores missed the signal so the patrol leader hollered out for him to detonate the ambush.  The NVA were well into the kill zone when the ambush was initiated and in the excitement of battle, Marze stood to get a better line of fire.  The concussion (back blast) from the claymores threw him about 10 feet, slamming him to the ground. Stunned by the force he quickly got to his feet, thankful to be alive.  On his cherry mission Marze helped to eliminate ten enemy soldiers, received his indoctrination into the LRRPs, and earned his Combat Infantryman Badge (CIB).

On January 24, 1968, near Binh Son, a Long Range Reconnaissance Patrol that included Team Leader Greg Foreman, observers Thomas Wayne Hodge, Edward Chaffin, George House, and Gary Hollenbeck, were moving cautiously along a trail.  Indication of heavy and recent use was visible as they came to a crossroads.  Foreman and House moved out to investigate the crossing, the other three stayed put to provide security.  Chaffin saw four Viet Cong coming up behind Foreman and House preparing to fire on them. Acting quickly and decisively he, Hodge, and Hollenbeck took them under fire.  There was an intense fire fight and Hodge was fatally wounded.

The VC was lucky this day as Hollenbeck and Chaffin's weapons jammed.  Both men applied immediate action, clearing their weapons, as Foreman retrieved the mortally wounded Hodge.  They continued to pour heavy fire on the pursuing enemy, breaking contact using the standard reaction drill.  The team began their escape and evasion as the VC regrouped and started to pursue the LRRPs.  With the enemy in pursuit it became necessary to leave Hodge. Some members of the team covered his body with leaves and twigs, and then booby trapped it.  The patrol continued their E&E. Arriving safely at the pick up zone; the team was extracted and returned to Bearcat.  There they were met by a LRRP reaction force that returned to the scene and retrieved Hodge's body.  Thomas Hodge was posthumously awarded the Silver Star in recognition of his action that was instrumental in allowing the team inflict heavy casualties on the enemy and make it safely to the pick up zone.  Chaffin and Hollenbeck would later be awarded the Bronze Star with V for their action. 

The time spent at Bearcat was quite different than what was to be at Dong Tam. Rockets or mortars were seldom spent attacking Bearcat but the opposite was true for the delta base camp It was not unusual for Dong Tam to be hit once a week with rockets or mortars. It was during such an attack on 11 February 1968 that George Jonathan House was killed. A 122mm Rocket came through the roof of the double story barracks and shrapnel from the rocket killed George.

Only the best were called to be LRRPs, including the chain of command.  Lieutenant Dale L. Dickey received his tutelage while performing as one of the operation officers under the best commander at the company level in Vietnam, Captain Clarence Matsuda.  Upon Matsuda's departure in February 1968, Lt. Dickey took command and the LRRP Company never missed a beat.  "There were no precedents for protracted operations in a water-filled land five feet above sea level.  The trackless, inundated wastes south of Saigon, required learning on the job as the VC were pursued.  Their first forays and contacts being history, the LRPD had gained a reputation among friend and foe alike. An elite, cohesive, determined, hard charging unit, they proudly carried the nick name of "Reliable Reconnaissance" into their second year of combat." 

When the division base camp moved to Dong Tam, located in the Delta, an opportunity came for some of the LRRPs to cross train with the Navy Seals.  Marze was one of the first to go on a mission with a seal team. It was an experience he will never forget.  Only if you have been there and smelled the stench of death could you ever imagine what it was like. 

Most seal insertions were at night, dropping of navy patrol boats (PBR) and walking in to a predetermined objective.  This particular night the seal team, with Marze as a member, was inserted and walked about six kilometers.  They came to an area with several hooch’s scattered in the nipa palm.  What the patrol thought to be a small village turned out to be a large NVA base area.  It was near 0100 hours when two seals opened the door to one of the hooch’s and stepped in.  The hooch was lined with cots on both sides, occupied by about 30 sleeping NVA.  Marze was providing rear security as the two seals opened fire with their Stoners (an automatic weapon with 150 round drum).   A young VC girl wounded two seals and the interpreter when she threw a grenade thrown from the hooch.  As she tried to escape out the rear of the hooch, Marze shot and killed her.

As the patrol pulled out of the area, Marze picked up the wounded interpreter in a fireman's carry.  The wounded seals were able to move on their own, as they waded and swam numerous canals making their way back toward the river. The surviving NVA were yelling and firing their weapons as they searched for the seal team. 

The team made it to a rice paddy, about 1500 meters from the contact area, before they were pinned down by automatic weapons fire and occasional mortar rounds.  With the wounded men it was impossible to get back for extraction by boat so the team leader called for a helicopter pick up.  Marze was later quoted as saying, “I never will forget, while we were pinned down, I was laughing while this seal was crying." 

The helicopter was sent in at about 0230 in the morning to pick them up.  The LZ was hot and initially the pilot refused to go in and make the pick up.  The navy chief told him if he didn’t come in, they would shoot him down.  There was a short lull in the firing and the Pilot came in to pick up the team. The chopper hovered just off the ground as the seals scrambled onto the chopper.  The navy chief was the last one aboard and took a round that was fortunately stopped by the battery in the radio on his back.  The chief submitted Marze for an award but the paperwork was lost and nothing came of it.

A team led by Staff Sergeant Johnston Dunlop spent some tense moments in Long Thanh Province as the team observed the movement of about one hundred Viet Cong.  It was late afternoon when the team entered the Binh Son Rubber Plantation about eight miles South of Bearcat.  Within thirty minutes after the insertion the patrol spotted ten Viet Cong soldiers moving along a well used trail.  "As time passed, we continued to see uniformed enemy soldiers," related SSG Dunlop, of Auburn, New York.  They were well armed with AK47 rifles and 81mm mortars.  Over 100 enemy were counted in the next couple of hours.  At dusk, Dunlop called artillery on the trail as the enemy passed.  "As the shells hit the enemy would move off the trail.  They would wait, and then move on after the shelling stopped."

After the patrol was extracted, SSG Dunlop flew over with an Air Force forward air controller and pinpointed the enemy location.  Division artillery bombarded the location.

The VC used various ways of communicating and was forced to improvise due to a shortage of radio equipment.  Some used single shots to communicate, sometimes they struck bamboo sticks together, and lanterns were sometimes used at night to communicate as well as navigate.  Marze was to learn this on his second mission out, a five-man reconnaissance patrol.

Normal insertions took place early in the morning or near last light.  This seemed to be the times that contact was least likely to happen.  Most times LT Stetson would be on the chopper used to put the LRRP team on the ground.  He and the team leader would make sure the correct LZ was used.  This day was no different than many before.  It was an hour or so before dark and the huey was flying at tree top level.  A cobra gunship was providing support from near by.  The insertion chopper came upon the LZ and briefly touched down.  The five LRRPs hit the ground and moved into the treelike even before the huey was back in the air.  The choppers would remain in the vicinity long enough for the team to get settled into their night position. 

The team moved into the jungle some 300 meters and circled for the night. They had been on the ground for thirty minutes and all was quiet. The team leader gave Stetson the all clear saying, “the steak is cold”, the LRRP code that meant all was clear. If the “steak was hot”, the team would have been extracted for an insertion into the alternate LZ.  As the darkness engulfed the five men, all that could be heard was the ‘Fuk U Lizard’ calling out, fukuuuuu, fukuuuuu.

The following morning the team was up and moving early.  Things were uneventful most of the day.  After traveling a couple of thousand meters through thick jungle, stopping several times to listen for any sound of the enemy, at 1100 hours they stopped for ‘pot time’.  Pot time was 1100 to 1300 hours when the VC would stop for lunch and an afternoon rest.  If you moved during this time you were at a disadvantage as the VC being stationary would be more apt to hear your movement. 

Late in the afternoon the team leader started to look for a good place to spend the night.  The vegetation thinned and they found themselves in a complex of trails.  Before they could move out of the area there was VC on both sides.  All they could do was lay low and wait for an opportunity to escape and evade.  As darkness fell they could hear the VC knocking bamboo sticks hitting together signaling that the team was in the area.  Fortunately the patrol found some dense under growth and watched the entire night as lanterns glowed all around them.  Thinking the patrol had moved out of the area the VC gave up their search and moved on.  The remainder of the patrol was uneventful and the team was extracted two days later. Once back at base camp there was time to relax, drink some beer, and swap stories before the next time out.

Prior to the TET offensive there were several sightings of large groups of NVA and VC units moving to and from Saigon through the Binh Son rubber plantation. The LRRP commander put two LRRP teams together for a special ambush mission.  On February 17, 1968, ten LRRPs were inserted into a landing zone just inside the plantation. One of the teams consisted of Staff Sergeants Hilan Jones and Elbert Walden, Sergeant Mike Rohr, along with Specialists Four Donald Dupont and Dave Long. The other team was made up with a group of team leaders, Specialist Four Tom Eggleton, Sergeant Ed Rasen, Staff Sergeant’s James Glaze, and David Sellens, and a Private who had just joined from the 101st Airborne. The patrol was designed for the teams to work in concert while at the same time independently in the event that escape and evasion became necessary.

The LRRPs were inserted early that morning without incident. They moved quickly to stake out a major trail and set up the ambush.  Jones and his team set up on the right, facing the trail. Eggleton set his team up on the left with about forty meters separating the teams. Walden, Rohr, and Dupont provided security on the right flank while Glaze, Sellens, and the 101st guy secured the left.  Eggleton and Rasen strung Claymore mines in their portion of the kill zone as Jones and Long set up the other side. 

Shortly after the wiring of the ten claymores was finished and the ambush was in place, three NVA soldiers came moving down the trail from the right to left of the patrol.  The ambush was not quite set and they were allowed to pass.  Soon to follow was the main force (in excess of 50 NVA soldiers) in full battle gear.  The three that passed earlier turned out to be the point element of the larger group.

The NVA soldiers were moving quickly along the trail with only a meter or so between soldiers.  Each had a weapon.  One carried a mortar tube, another an RPG rocket launcher.  All carried rifles, with several carrying rocket grenades and mortar rounds.  As the NVA passed into the kill zone Rasen blew the mines on the left and Jones followed blowing the right side.

All hell broke loose as team one came under heavy automatic weapons fire from the trailing enemy that were not caught in the kill zone.  Unaware that team one was engaged in a heavy fire fight, Rasen, Sellens, and Glaze ran out to search the kill zone and capture any NVA soldiers that might still be alive.   Eggleton and the other guy secured the left flank. In the confusion of the battle, the handset cord on Jones' radio was pulled of at the connection to the PRC25 radio. The remaining NVA broke contact and retreated back down the trail in the direction that they had come.  Team one then engaged in securing the right flank and assisting in the search of the bodies on the trail.  Specialist Long discovered an NVA soldier tossing a grenade in the direction of Sellens and Rasen.  The grenade exploded and shrapnel hit Sellens and Rasen before Long could cover the NVA and take him prisoner.

The LRRPs completed the search of the kill zone which produced the capture of a wounded NVA soldier, an RPG7 rocket launcher with rocket, an 81MM mortar tube, several RPG rockets and mortar rounds, several small arms, plastic explosives, and several pounds of documents.  Eggleton called for extraction as the teams completed their search and moved to the pick up zone.

It wasn't long before the choppers were on the scene with the first Huey on the ground making the pick up.  Dave Long carried the wounded NVA to the chopper as Rasen, Sellens, Glaze, Dupont, Rohr, and the 101st guy filled the chopper.  Jones, Walden, Eggleton, and Long remained on the ground to wait for the second chopper.  The four men left on the ground came under automatic weapons fire from the near wood line and Eggleton took a round through both legs.

Walden threw a white phosphorous grenade marking the wood line the NVA were firing from, secured the radio from Eggleton and directed the fire of the gun ships that by then were on station. The cobras immediately fired into the wood line with their rockets and mini guns, suppressing the enemy fire, forcing the enemy to retreat. Jones carried Eggleton to the waiting chopper while Long, Walden, and Glaze provided covering fire into the wood line.  Once Jones and Eggleton were safely on the chopper, Long and Walden followed. The chopper lifted of without further incident.  Division followed up with an infantry company who found twenty nine dead NVA soldiers on and around the trail.  Sellens wounds were superficial but Eggleton and Rasen were seriously wounded. They spent months in the hospital undergoing physical therapy while recovering from their wounds. Fortunately both men would fully recover.  Today, Rasen is a successful writer and Eggleton is an executive with Baush and Laum.

Radio relay was conducted using choppers, fixed wing, or anything else that would carry a LRRP and a radio to maintain communications with teams on the ground.  Roy Barley had that duty on 17 February.  The morning had been a chore because the day before the fellow who was doing the radio relay for the first (and last) time had really fouled things up, having teams plotted way out of position.

After checking the team’s location and correctly plotting them on the map, they flew to assist Jones and Eggleton.  Since the large LZ was real close to their location, Roy knew that he had to be real close on that.  Jones came up on the radio and told Roy that they had "rough peanut butter" (meaning enemy activity) and that they should leave the area because they were spooking them.  They flew a short distance away and continued to monitor the situation.  Barley doubled checked the other teams to insure they were fine and then flew around the location for about 45 minutes monitoring in case of contact.

Barley was told by the pilot that they needed to return to Bearcat and refuel.  Roy told him he was not happy to be returning to the landing strip while there was a team with bad guys around.  He was told that if we did not refuel we would be on the ground with them shortly.  Roy advised the TOC and down they went.

The fixed wing was in the middle of refueling when a jeep came roaring up and told them that they had to get back in the air ASAP.  There was a team in heavy contact and Jones and Eggleton needed support right away.  The pilot had barely put in half of the needed fuel.  Barley was in the back seat of the aircraft double checking the team locations.  He noticed when they landed the pilot had taken the firing levers off the white phosphorus rockets.  He had no time to mention to him that he forgot to re-arm the rockets.  There were only 4 left as that morning they made a run on a bunker.

When they got back in the air Barley called for Artillery and advised that he would direct.  The only guns that could reach the location were in Bear Cat and guess where the gun ships and pickup ships were coming from.  Yep, same place.  Roy was advised that they would not fire over the birds so he requested some fast movers but their ETA was considerably longer than the gun ships.  Talk about frustration!  He could see the fire team and slicks but could not make them move any faster.

Roy asked the pilot to fire some WP rockets and that is when he realized that the rockets were not armed.  He directed the pilot to fly over the wood line where, based on the radio traffic, the bad guys were.  When he did Roy pulled the pins and threw out a couple of fragmentation grenades.  The aircraft took a couple of hits by small arms fire but nothing close to any serious damage.  The gun ships hit station about then and really worked the bad guys over.

The rest of the day was uneventful and the other teams had no problems in the areas.  As soon as they touched down Roy wanted to find out if everyone was all right.  That is when he learned Eggleton was hit by AK47 fire in both legs.

Latter that night Roy was back in the air for radio relay check of the teams.  All was fine.  When they landed he reached to put on his beret and it was not there.  It had blown out of his pants pocket while sitting in the door of that slick.  Some little dink is probably still wearing it.  It was, all in all, a real shitty day.  A couple of day’s latter Roy was headed to Nha Trang for Recondo School. 

Enemy mortars and rockets struck Bearcat for the first time on February 27.  Casualties and damage was extremely light as nine rockets and 2 mortars hit the base camp between 1:00 a.m. and 1:15 a.m... Small arms contact was reported from one sector of the perimeter.  The division's reaction was quick with light fire teams on station and 256 rounds of artillery fire returned.13 

One of the benefits that came with membership in the LRRP unit was slipping off for R&R in Mei Tho or Saigon. All cities were off limits, but if you stayed out of trouble, the military police would generally ignore you.  One afternoon in May, Lieutenant Henry Hester, J. W. Boles, Hilan Jones, Herbert Vaughn, along with Kenneth Marze, drove to Mei Tho in the Lt.'s jeep.  They were in one of the local bars when the local police made a raid. All except Vaughn were apprehended. The rest were taken to the local police station and told to wait in the courtyard for the MPs.  Vaughn had escaped but had the key to the padlock securing the chain locking the steering wheel on the jeep.

Not wanting to answer for a report from the MPs, Lt. Hester took his pistol and shot the lock off the chain (it took three rounds). Everyone jumped in the jeep and headed out of town back to Dong Tam. Vaughn made it back to base camp on his own, long before the others. All is well that ends well and no reports were filed that day.

When First Lieutenant Dale Dickey took command from Captain Clarence Matsuda the company was still designated 9th Division LPRPs.  A few months after that it was changed to Company E, 50th Infantry, Airborne/ Ranger and stayed that way for just short of a year when it was again re-designated. The company was now Company E 75th Rangers.  Dale has the bragging rights of being the last LRRP commander, the only E 50th Infantry commander and the first E 75th Ranger commander.  The missions really started to change when General Ewell took command of the 9th Division. He believed in the unique capabilities of the Rangers and knew that they could be his eyes, ears, and yes muscle, when he needed it most. The G-2, Colonel Spiro (?) was also a believer and supporter of the Rangers.

Dale's earliest memories of being the commander was that of being alone without Rick Stetson's calming affect and of not having Captain Matsuda's confidence, vast experience and leadership to fall back on in a tight spot.  Here he was almost all alone in charge of guys like Jones, Frost, Dunlap, Nizialek, Walden, and the rest of the mob.  One very peaceful morning sitting in his office thinking how great it was that all the teams were quiet, he was interrupted by First Sergeant Melvin Jones who announced that a very angry Major wanted to talk with him.  As the Major entered the office he was yelling at the top of his lungs that he would have the entire company sent to jail and Dale relieved of his command if he didn't discipline these two disrespectful NCOs.

From the brief description, he knew the Major was speaking of Frost and Jones.  Thank God Dunlap was in the field.  It appears they had been drinking and according to them it was just a little beer.  They were on stand-down enjoying the amenities of the NCO Club and were walking back to the unit.  They took a shortcut across the Major's yard, which had been recently seeded and was growing beautiful, lush grass, just like at home in Virginia.  When he yelled at them to get off his grass they responded with something like yea! yea! not realizing or caring that he was a Major.         

The Major went on to say that Jones became very disrespectful to him.  By this time Jones and Frost were standing in front of their commander providing him with the facts as they knew them to be true. Their version in no way or manner matched with the major's story and of course Jones denied being disrespectful.  The Major stated that Jones threaten to "smash him if he didn't get out of his face". Jones' version was that he stated, "If he didn't get out of his face, SIR" and Frost remembered the exact same thing, so figure.

The Major was in a T-shirt and Dale asked him how he was dressed when the confrontation happened. The Major went crazy at which time he was invited to leave the company area as it was really off limits to unauthorized personnel.  He left and went to division to see Col. Ira A. Hunt who told him to stay completely away from the Ranger compound and to remove his grass. Hunt told him that if dirt and mud were good enough for General Ewell it was good enough for the Major.  Jones and Frost didn't get off completely but it set the picture for things to come for a new inexperienced company commander.  Dale commanded other units during his military career and no one threw anything at him that he hadn't seen as commander of the Rangers.

Specialist Four William Francis "Ski" Piaskowski was wounded on March 14 while on a routine patrol in Vinh Long Province with Sergeant Herbert Lee Vaughn, Staff Sergeant Hilan E. Jones, Staff Sergeant Herbert Cornelius Frost, and several others.  The patrol was inserted from a navy patrol boat (PBR) and was conducting a search for any signs of enemy activity.  At mid-day they came upon hooch that gave all appearances of being occupied.  It was a normal abode for the area, complete with the hard packed dirt floor and measured about twenty feet by thirty feet.  Contained in the hooch were the normal Vietnamese furnishings.  You could smell the incense and burnt charcoal, signs that the place was definitely occupied.  Security was put in place and the hooch was searched for enemy weapons, equipment, and any other sign that would give an indication as to the status of the occupants.

A lone Viet Cong came down the trail, right into the ranger positions. He fired one round before running from the area.  The rangers returned fire immediately, but the VC was able to escape.  That one round found its mark and hit “Ski” in the chest.  Vaughn applied first aid to the chest wound and the team leader called for medical evacuation.  Piaskowski was dusted off in short order and prognosis from the medical staff at the field hospital was good.  We were all relieved to learn that "Ski" would make it.  That evening word came from the hospital that he had died.  Feelings of sorrow, anger, and frustration ran through the company area that night.  The LRRPs had lost their fifth man after getting him home and thinking that he was going to be all right. 

On 13 April, team leaders Specialist Four Robert J. Wallace, 19, from Saint Paul, Minnesota, and Sergeant Steven G. Averill, 21, from El Cajon, California were heading up a reconnaissance patrol in a suspected infiltration area near Bearcat.  "We were just starting to set up about five yards off a trail when all of a sudden there they were," said Wallace. We were in heavy foliage when four VC came down the trail from the west and four more from the east. When they spotted one of our men we opened up. We usually try to avoid that type of contact but when a VC is looking at you from fifteen meters away, you have to shoot,"

They had watched the trail for two days and nights, charting movement and numbers. On the third day deciding to grab one of the small groups which frequented the area?  The four VC coming from the west looked perfect but then four others appeared from the east.  They were the point element for about thirty more VC.  "We killed five in the first burst and were pulling back toward the landing zone when the larger force hit," continued Wallace.

Wallace said the VC fired small arms and automatic weapons at the team.  Averill called in for gunship support.  The gun ships were on location within minutes and their fire was devastating. They were credited with killing ten VC.  The LRRPs had been pinned down but the quick reaction and support of the choppers allowed them to break contact and escape to the LZ.  The team was extracted without incident.

On April 16 First Sergeant Joseph Melvin Jones and Staff Sergeant Johnston Dunlop were killed while on an ambush patrol in the Bien Hoa Province.  Team one was made up of "Top" Jones, SSGs Dunlop and Greg Nizialek, with Specialists Four Phil Katsis and James Counts.  Team two consisted of Specialists Four Wayne Fentress, Jack Delaney, Eugene Richardson, Richard "Little Jonesy" Jones, and George E. Kozach Jr. filling out the team.  Over the preceding weeks, enemy activity and sightings had been heavy in the area around the Binh Son Plantation.  The mission was to set up an ambush on a known VC route and disrupt the movement of men and supplies in that area.  Initial plans called for a 7:30 am insertion but unforeseen circumstances delayed that until almost 8:30 am.  About an hour behind schedule, the team was inserted and moved quickly to the selected position.

Team two was on the left flank of the ambush where Fentress and Richardson began putting the claymores in place as Delaney, "Little Jonesy", and Kozach provided flank and rear security.  The claymores on the left portion of the kill zone were in place and armed.  Simultaneously Katsis was placing the claymores on the right flank of the kill zone while Dunlop was to insert the blasting caps and arm them.  "Top" Jones, Counts, and Nizialek were providing all around security on the right flank.

Before the ambush was completely set the VC came into view of the men on the right flank of the ambush. Normally the VC parade down the trails with an "I own the jungle" attitude, weapons slung over their shoulder, singing and talking loudly. Charlie" was alert this day. They came quietly, weapons at the ready, and spotted the LRRPs before entering the kill zone. Automatic weapons fire from both sides broke the quiet of the morning that day and when the smoke had cleared "Top" Jones was dead, SSG Dunlop was seriously wounded, and SP4 Counts was shot in the forehead.

The initial volley of small arms fire hit Katsis's ruck sack and set off a yellow smoke.  The blast of the claymores knocked Delaney into a tree.  He turned and began to fire into the smoke on the right flank of the ambush.  A VC near "Top" was looking directly at him and Delaney saw him aim and fire.  "Five tracers in a horse-shoe shape came at me, I knew I was dead, all I heard was Pop, Pop, Pop, Pop, and Pop! To my surprise, I was still standing" said Delaney.  Loading his fourth magazine into his M16 he continued to fire as the smoke was starting to clear.  There were six to eight dead V.C. laying on the trail.

Delaney was checking the trail to make sure all the V.C. were dead as the rest of the team was moving Counts and Dunlop to the LZ.  Fentress, Nizialek and Delaney then pulled "Top’s body down into the riverbed when all HELL broke lose!!!  It sounded like 100 VC were on line shooting at them.  Bullets were flying every where.  Trees were cut down by the heavy volume of small arms fire, rocket propelled grenades, and hand grenades!!  The only thing between them and the VC was the riverbed.  They dragged "Top’s body down the riverbed, placed him under some over hanging brush, then camouflaged and booby trapped his body.  They were unable to bring "Top" out and but would return later to retrieve him. They low crawled for over 100 yards to the L.Z.!!

At the L.Z., Fentress had them consolidate our magazines into a pile.  Two guys were loading and shooting into the wood line.  Delaney carried 31 high explosive (HE) rounds for his M-79 grenade launcher, using it as a mortar with the rounds hitting 50 to 100 yards into the wood line.  Specialist Fentress applied a field dressing to Dunlop's wounds and administered morphine as they moved to the LZ for extraction. Delaney carried Dunlop to the chopper.  A door gunner shot three VC that ran out onto the LZ.  As the gun ships rolled in the team marked the enemy positions with tracer rounds.  Rockets devastated the wood line and the pick-up chopper came in at tree top level, swooped down, and successfully extracted most of the patrol.  Fentress and Mathews waited on the LZ for the second pick up chopper.

Unaware that there were two LRRPs left on the ground the VC emerged onto the LZ to scrounge any equipment or supplies that may have been left behind.  Fentress and Mathews were able to direct the gun ships and called in effective fire on the unsuspecting VC.  Once back to Bearcat the choppers were refueled, while a reaction force made up from the Aero Rifle Platoon assembled on the helipad.  They were guided back to the "combat zone" by Fentress, Delaney, and Frost.  Two additional VC were killed while "Top’s remains were recovered. Delaney was hit in the leg with shrapnel.

Souvenirs were a big thing.  Everyone wanted to recover a weapon or some other war trophy to take home.  Marze recalls the mission on 25 May 1968.  He, Vaughn, and four others were tagged for a patrol on Toi Son Island, just a thousand meters or so from Dong Tam in the middle of the Mekong River.  Vaughn briefed the patrol emphasizing that there would be a lot of tin VC flags nailed to the trees through out the area and to leave them alone.  They would be booby-trapped. Charlie knew that the GI was curious and careless. 

That afternoon the navy crew picked the patrol up and would insert them just before dark.  Just after dark the team off loaded from the PBR onto Toi Son Island and moved quickly and quietly across a rice paddy for approximately 600 meters.  The patrol moved into a tree line, set their security, and continued to monitor the area.  The following morning the patrol moved out through some thick nipa palm and came upon a well-used trail.  They spotted several tin VC flags nailed to the trees.  Marze was about 15 meters behind Vaughn who ignored his own advice, taking one of the flags and pulling it from the tree. It was booby-trapped.  The explosion caught Vaughn in the chest.  He was killed instantly (he only had 40 days to do before going home.)  The loss of Vaughn still haunts Marze today, some 35 years later.

After a couple of months with the seals Marze returned to the LRRPs who, in between missions, were in the middle of constructing their living area at Dong Tam.  Having left a super living area at Bearcat; hooch’s had tin roofs, wooden sides about four feet off the ground, wire mesh the remaining couple of feet to the roof, and were set on concrete slabs, they were in the process of building even a better one. The LRRPs were a creative bunch and sometimes acquired building material outside of the normal requisition process. The lumber used to build the small club in the company area was gotten by way of the "midnight requisition."  Marze (and a couple others) acquired some particle board and masonite that was intended for constructing the base chapel.  The Chaplain caught them in the act and required them to attend services or he would report them. They attended the required amount of services, returned the acquired lumber and nothing further was said.  Some time during this construction, Marze used the phrase, “you lantern head-son-of-a-bitch.”  He was immediately tagged with the nickname “Lantern head,” by which he still answers today.

On 14 May 1968, Patrol Leader Staff Sergeant James Glaze, Australian Special Air Service (SAS) trooper by the name of Duffy, Specialists Four Larry J. Styer and Charles Knight, along with two or three others (one was a new guy), were on a mission in the Dinh Tuong Province.  They were working with an Infantry Brigade which was being hit by sniper fire as they transported supplies along a highway in the "Pink Palace" area.  The mission of the LRRP team was to search for and take out the snipers.  Late in the afternoon the LRRPs met up with a line platoon that would be providing support.

Immediately after linking up with the support element, they saw approximately 10 VC moving across an open area in the rice paddy to the front. The team left the line platoon to intercept and block the route the VC was taking.  The team moved through a line of woods and along a dike covered in heavy vegetation in their attempt to cut off the VC.  As they started to cross the canal, they began receiving small arms fire from across the canal to their right front.

The Australian had gotten across prior to the team receiving fire and was called back across the canal to join the rest of the patrol. As he crossed back to the friendly side, fire was received from the front, the left, and the right of their position. Judging from the volume of fire, there had to be more than the 10 VC originally spotted.  The LRRP team returned fire and Glaze called for the line platoon to move up to their position as he simultaneously called in artillery.  The line unit was not able to move forward.

The new guy's weapon jammed and Glaze moved over to assist him. Trading weapons, Glaze was able to clear the jam and continued to call in artillery.  Shortly after, the enemy fire ceased and the line platoon joined up.  The area was searched and blood trails were found as well as other signs that the VC had entered the canal before disappearing. The men searched for a tunnel opening in the bank of the dike but could not find anything. The team was extracted without further incident or injuries.18

It happened on 1 June 1968 in a flat open see-for-miles rice paddy in the Plain of Reeds. Kenneth McConkey witnessed a young buck sergeant by the name of J.W. Boles back down a Bird Colonel who was abusing the use of the LRRPs that day. The Colonel’s idea was to send seven LRRPs out a mile to a mile and a half ahead of the rifle company they were attached to for the purpose of drawing enemy fire. They were then to keep the fight going until he foot-slogged with the company across this distance of open rice paddy country to make a full engagement

J.W. spoke quietly and diplomatically, but the message was clear that he considered it a categorically stupid idea & it wasn’t going to happen with his team.  Boles starting out with “Sir, I don’t know if you’ve ever worked with the Long Range Patrol before, but….”   This went on for maybe five minutes, with Boles talking sense and the Colonel getting more and more insistent. He realized that Boles wasn’t going to budge and he finally just stood and glared. You could just see the dreaded words dangling on the tip of the Colonel’s tongue….but he didn’t say it because he knew Boles was not about to be intimidated.

No telling what Boles was ready to say next to the Colonel while they were having their stare-down, but by the way the conversation had escalated, one could guess that instead of the firm but respectful tone he had maintained it was probably going to be along the lines of “Sir, that’s dumb and we’re just not going to do it,…..and if you don’t like it, call the General see what he thinks of your idea.”  They stood eyeball to eye ball for about a half a minute & then the Colonel backed up & walked away mumbling something about “Well, if you’re not going to do your job…”  A few minutes later he came back and split the team up and distributed them among the platoons as an insult for him to save a little face out of the deal, but at least the LRRPs didn’t provide Charlie with a casual afternoon of target practice like the Colonel wanted.

A few minutes later the word came that “Somebody spotted a few gooks in some woods and we’re going to flush them out and shoot them like pheasants.”  They put the company in choppers and flew into the plain of reeds. McConkey hit the ground in the middle of what appeared to be a battalion-sized firefight on three sides of him. That “leader of men” got a lot of brave soldiers killed for no good reason that afternoon. McConkey personally heard the Colonel give the Company Commander orders to assault. He kept hollering “You’ve got to assault those positions.” The company was pinned down and losing more guys by the minute while he was high and dry up 3000 feet in his helicopter right above us.  Another of his companies was trapped inside the NVA base camp getting the shit shot out of them.  He just kept screaming that they had to move forward. There was no cover and little concealment against well fortified positions and they were chopping the company up at will with .51 calibers. 

Without using the word he was calling the guys under Lt. O’Reilly’s command cowards and they knew they weren’t.  What he was telling them to do was simply a military impossibility.  At one point McConkey looked up at the chopper thinking, “You ignorant son of a bitch if you really think this can be done why don’t you come on down here and grab a rifle there’s plenty of them laying around.” The next morning there were 39 bodies loaded on the choppers.

Gary Beckham remembers that day as it is forever burned deep into his soul.  He remembers cradling a young soldier in his arms that day, a bullet through his temple, he was blind, he was in pain, there was no blood, and he was dying.  He asked god to help him that day, and god did, and that young soldier died in Gary’s arms. He remembers the teams being split up, going into a really hot LZ, watching the face of a black private who was in the same chopper as the 4 man LRRP team, and the look of his pale skin, almost white, told all that soon he was going to die. Not more than 10 minutes later, we helped pull his body onto high ground, a bullet through the head, fired at close range from a spider hole.

Also remembered was the growing row, then rows, of bodies, of the dying, dead, and the terribly wounded.  They could not fire in a particular direction because that was where the other company was trapped....but really, no one had a clue which direction they could or could not fire, not knowing exactly where that trapped company was....and all the time AK's firing, not so much as sniper fire, but trying to draw American fire in order to locate forces. Grenades were hanging from trees like ripe fruit, all tied to trip lines.  

Beckham remembers being the one that stood up with a strobe light to guide in the Huey's to cart off the dead and dying.  He remembers the blue-green tracers fired at him while holding that strobe....That day and night he relives nearly each day of his life...it will stay with him forever.

McConkey has the bullet with his name on it as a reminder of this action. Working along the battle line hoping to link up with some of the rest of the team, (Boles had already gone back to be dusted off after getting hit in the leg) he came upon the scene previously described, with the C.O., a platoon leader and about a platoon’s worth of guys all bunched up pinned down getting the shit shot out of them.  No LRRPs in sight, so he was first going to try to pass on through and keep looking for Smitty, MacCallum, Marze or Taitano. Then on the opposite side of the group he spotted a kid named Johnny Carpenter that they had met the night before when the Boles team bedded down next to his squad. McConkey had confidence in him, and figured that if he couldn’t find any LRRPs, at least he could hook up with him and maybe Mike Chubbuck.  The platoon was so bunched up that he didn’t want to crawl right through them, drawing attention to the movement and get somebody else shot. That was happening regularly enough as it was. He detoured around the front, crawling and sliding sideways to keep the narrowest profile towards the front and not expose any more target profile than necessary.  He would move a couple feet whenever the .51’s stopped to catch their breath a bit, (the AK fire remained steady throughout) so it was pretty slow going.  As luck would have it, just when  he got to the middle of the front, the intensity picked up and he was stuck there for quite a while trying to be small….you all know what trying to be small means.

While laying there listening to Lt O’Reilly trying to talk this Colonel out of making another futile, suicidal charge, it dawned on him that the top of his head was by default the furthest point of advancement.  He had categorically the front row seat, though that had not been his original intent. He was just trying to go around the group.  This was not a movie, not a dream, not a drill, it was actually happening.  It sounds silly, but it’s the God’s honest truth…the corny poetic words came into his mind “At any second a bullet could come crashing into my brain.”  Yes, “crashing”…he didn’t know what it was all about, just that it happened. It was his own voice he heard in his head, like it was a message from The Man. That kind of woke him up and he felt the need to take some - any - kind of action instead of just waiting for things to happen.  Nobody was moving or firing back at them for 15-20 minutes.  A few small movements as a new angle of fire came through …trying to get a little better concealment, but basically they were just laying there getting shot while O’Reilly tried to talk sense to that S.O.B. Col. up in the air. There was so much lead coming through that if you hadn’t gotten hit where you were you didn’t really want to roll the dice by moving to a new spot.

So the only thing he could think of after the brain crashing vision was to get his head lower.  Scooping about a half a basketball’s worth of muck out of the ground he made a mini foxhole for his head.  It started to ooze water into the bottom of the hole, (this soft mushy ground is what undoubtedly saved his life when he had fallen out of the chopper a couple hours earlier), so he took off his beret and lined the hole with it, keeping his right eye just above ground level to be able to see forward. 

No more than a minute later it felt like someone had given his small pack (they weren’t carrying rucks) a hell of a kick and it kind of raised him up out of the hole a bit.  Knight’s platoon leader, Lt. Jones, had been lying with his hand on his thigh with his head behind the pack.  He could feel him moving occasionally to peek around during short lulls in the firing.  Jones said “My God, I just got hit in the head with a bullet and I’m still alive!”

McConkey replied, “Ya, that must be the one that just went through my pack.” It had hit the buckle on the top of his pack, gone through, come out the bottom mostly spent and went “klink” on the forehead of the platoon leaders helmet and fell straight down and stuck to the back of his hand, burning him.  He shook it off onto the ground and then picked it up.  He said “I’ve got it right here in my hand, it’s still hot!” Without taking his head out of the hole he reached back with his left hand and hit him on the shoulder, holding out his hand like a bellboy for a tip.  He put it in his hand and it wasn’t hot anymore, but still had warmth.  McConkey placed it in his shirt pocket. Many further events unfolded and the next day when we were flown out of there to a camp with buildings & stuff, Jones was coming into the toilet/washroom just as McConkey was leaving. He said, “Say, you still have that bullet? That’s my bullet, you know.” McConkey replied, “Your bullet, sir?” “Yeah, that hit me right in the head, you know.” He told him “Well, sir, I look at it this way…If I hadn’t dug that hole in the ground, I’d have the bullet, …I wouldn’t know it, …and you wouldn’t care.  And since I did get my head out of the way, if it hadn’t hit the buckle on the top of my pack & lost its punch,…you’d have the bullet, you wouldn’t know it, and I wouldn’t care.  As it we both know how it all came down, I got the bullet and I’m keepin’ it…O.K., sir?” He opened his mouth and raised his finger like he was going to make some point of logic, but then just shook his head & walked away.

McConkey wasn’t really trying to ---- with the guy because he truly respected him. He just wanted to keep the bullet.  They had been on the scene together 3 or 4 times on June 1, and he really was a good and brave officer.  The next day when O’Reilly got killed he took over the company.  O’Reilly was a real pro, too.  McConkey went to their area a couple weeks later to visit with Knight and Chubbuck to express his remorse for getting their buddy Carpenter killed.  That’s when he learned from Knight that Chubbuck had gotten killed the same day as O’Reilly…more of that fucking Colonel’s doing.  McConkey has the last picture taken of Michael Chubbuck.  Bumping into Lt. Jones, they talked a minute. Jones said that he had been walking right beside O’Reilly as he got stitched across the chest.  He looked at Jones, and as he was falling said. “Well, you got it, Lieutenant.”  The guy held a change of Command ceremony on the way to the ground…now there was a soldier.  MacCallum remembers him, too.  We’d have been proud to have either of them in the LRRPs. 

Intelligence in June 1968 reported that a barge traveling the Mekong River was transporting weapons, ammunition, communication equipment, and other military supplies disguised as rice.  Division G2 had a LRRP team standing by on the helo pad, ready to be dropped onto the barge at the first opportunity.  The LRRPs wore cut off fatigues or swim suits, each man armed with an M16 and a couple of 20 round magazines taped together. As the first magazine was expended all they had to do was reverse magazines and they were ready to fire again.  The team stood ready for five days while the air force provided a spotter plane to patrol the river. 

The plan was to drop the LRRP team onto the barge, capturing the cargo and personnel.  On the fifth day, the recon plane sighted the suspected barge and the plan was set into action.  The LRRPs loaded the chopper and were off.  Flying at tree top level, the chopper swooped in over the barge, hovering just a few feet above as the LRRPs jumped from both sides of the chopper onto the barge.  “Lanternhead” was the last to go and as he was set to jump the chopper jerked to one side.  He missed the barge and fell into the river.  Quick reaction by the door gunner prevented serious consequences as he informed the pilot of the LRRP in the river.  The pilot maneuvered into position and a rope was tossed to “Lanternhead” who was being carried away by the swift current.  He grabbed the rope and was lifted from the fast moving water and dropped into a rice paddy at the edge of the river.

"Lanternhead" was defenseless, as his weapon was lost in the river. A lot went through his head as he waited in the rice paddy for the chopper to circle and come in to pick him up. Vietnamese were scurrying around as they watched the LRRPs searching the barge and must have been laughing at the G1 that was fished out of the river and deposited in their back yard. As "Lanternhead" was being picked up from the rice paddy, the LRRPs on the barge were securing it to a navy patrol boat that arrived to pull it into Dong Tam. The barge sank and the crew was detained for later interrogation by the local authorities.

Stand downs (the time between missions) and promotions were excuses to throw a party. "Lanternhead" was promoted to SP4 in early July and to celebrate his promotion there was the usual "wash Tub" full of punch which consisted of a couple quarts of vodka mixed with grape fruit juice, fruit cocktail, and plenty of ice.  This concoction was prepared by Lt Hester in recognition of the promotion "Lanternhead" would receive the following day.  Everyone had over indulged and was not in the best of shape at the formation the next morning.  Lt Hester called "Lanternhead" to the front and told him to hit the ground and start pushing it up. He said it was for swearing at him the night before. "Lanternhead" had done one push up when Hester dropped the SP4 patch on his back and told him to get back in formation. Marze was now a proud SP4.

Lt Henry R. Hester was a fine officer who cared deeply for his men. A lot of effort was made these past few years to locate him. The brotherhood of LRRPs has lasted all of these years.  Several reunions have come and gone.  More men have been located and communication has continued among those that have been located. It was sad to learn Henry passed away the 15th of September 1997, before he could be located. He will be remembered by those that knew him.

On 15 July, 1968, Sergeant Fred Wheeler led a team on patrol near Khiem Ich.  Sergeant James Glaze served as assistant team leader on this day. Another member of E Company along with five or six PRUs made up the remainder of the patrol. The purpose of the mission was to discover why the area was so important to the enemy.  The line companies were receiving heavy fire each time they entered the area. 

As they approached a canal, the team spotted six VC in front of a hooch on the opposite bank.  The VC were armed as weapons were visible to the LRRP team.  Sgt. Wheeler directed small arms fire across the canal as it wasn't possible to move closer without being spotted by the VC.  During the brief fire fight, three or four bodies fell to the ground in front of the hooch.  The other VC disappeared. 

SGT Wheeler decided to move the team across the canal and search the area and bodies. He entered the canal first and had only taken a few steps when he became stuck in waist deep mud. The enemy opened fire on the team.  One of the VC had crawled up close to the canal bank and was firing towards Wheeler who was trying to get out of the canal. The rest of the team returned fire from the bank of the canal as Glaze moved to the edge of the water to pull Wheeler from the mud. Holding on to a small tree with one hand, he was able to reach Wheeler, giving him enough assistance to pull himself from the mud. The firing became heavier as the two men crawled back up the bank of the canal. Contact was broken and the patrol left the area as quickly as possible, suffering no casualties on this mission.18

It wasn't too long after "Lanternhead" made SP4 that he was given his own team.  He ran with one LRRP as the assistant team leader and five PRUs that were well trained and had plenty combat experience. His first mission as team leader would be back to Toi Son Island. The PBR crew picked the LRRP team up at the Dong Tam dock area well after dark, as this was to be a late night insertion. The team was experienced but still had the usual last minute butterflies as the PBR made the short 30-minute run to the island.

The insertion was made without incident and the team moved quickly to nearby concealment as the PBR backed slowly away from the bank. They would monitor the area for several minutes before moving inland to their objective. As they waited and observed, "Lanternhead" had thoughts of the day Vaughn was killed. Maybe they could even the score this night.

Seeing that all was clear, the team moved the few hundred meters to their objective in the center of the island. There they found a small hooch in the wood line that would provide good concealment.  Moving quickly to set up inside the hooch, they encountered an old farmer and his wife who both had the proper identification papers.   As the team set up to observe they secured them in their sleeping area. Everything would be quiet this night. 

The team was instructed to move to the pick up point at first light. The sun was just visible to the east, silhouetting the PBR as the team made their way to the rivers edge.  Encountering no problems, the PBR crew maneuvered to make the pick up.  Just as the last LRRP was attempting to get on the boat, they came under automatic rifle fire from a distant tree line.

As team leader, "Lanternhead" was the last to board but as he stepped up, his foot slipped and he fell into the water. Thoughts of the last time he was in the water came to his mind as small arms rounds were striking the water around him. The PBR crew returned fire with the twin .50 caliber machineguns, and the Honeywell (belt fed 40mm grenade launcher) quickly suppressing the enemy fire as the crew pulled "Lanternhead" on board.

The PBR crew continued to suppress the fire from the tree line as the LRRP leader was receiving his instructions from the TOC at Dong Tam. They were to stay with the PBR while it rearmed then return to the island and bring out a prisoner. By 1400 hours, the LRRPs were back on the island, sweeping the area for someone to take back. The enemy had dispersed but the LRRPs were able to gather several detainees, which they delivered to the MPs at Dong Tam. Toi Son again proved to be a hostile area to work.

At times the LRRP patrols were misused. An example is a team being used as the point element for an infantry platoon conducting a search and destroy mission. "Lanternhead" and five other LRRPs were doing just that when they spotted an old Vietnamese man counting the soldiers. He sent the other five on ahead as he waited for the infantry platoon, informing the Lt of the old man's activity. Assuming the old man was simply a rice farmer the unit moved on.

Just before night fall they came to a pagoda at the corner of a large rice field. It was bordered on one side by a large canal. Seizing an opportunity to get a good nights rest, the lieutenant chose to set his platoon in a defensive position inside the pagoda. He positioned the M-60 machine guns to cover the canal. The infantry platoon was on fifty percent alert so the LRRPs settled in to get as much sleep as they could.

About one in the morning all hell broke loose. The platoon came under heavy automatic rifle fire and grenade assault. It was a brief, intense attack from what appeared to be an enemy squad of five or six riflemen. The enemy was successful as they wounded three infantrymen, created a fire in the pagoda, and disappeared into the night.  "Lanternhead" was sent to recon the area so he and his team low crawled from the pagoda a short distance to a paddy dike. Seeing the enemy squad had departed the area, he informed the Lt that all was clear. Artillery was called in on the suspected route of withdrawal and a sweep of the area was made the following morning.

Some time in the summer, "Lanternhead", J.W. Boles, Doug MacCallum, and two other LRRPs were the point element for an infantry line company in the Plain Reeds. They were conducting a search and destroy mission. The area consisted of very tall grass (over the head of the average soldier) and knee deep water.  It was a known infiltration route from Cambodia into the Mekong Delta.

On the fifth day, the LRRPs came across a patch of ground that was above the water table and stretched for a few hundred meters in length and a couple hundred meters wide. There they found a large bunker complex that was unoccupied at the time but showed sign of recent use. They were picked up that afternoon and dropped at a Special Forces camp while the infantry company was taken to a larger area to rest up and get a hot meal. There was quite a lot of excitement at the LRRP Headquarters as they couldn’t account for the team for several hours.

After a good night's rest and a hot meal, one platoon from the infantry company was lifted in to destroy the bunker complex they had found the day before. Unfortunately it turned out to be a disaster waiting to happen. An NVA unit had moved into the area from Cambodia the night prior and surprised the infantry platoon, killing all but one.

The LRRP team was inserted with the reinforcing infantry company and was under heavy fire going in. Boles was wounded in an attempt to take out a machine gun position. Heavy fighting continued into the afternoon with the Infantry Company taking many casualties. “Lanternhead” went to the aid of a wounded infantryman who had been shot in the head. His helmet was full of blood and as it spilled out onto the ground his stomach turned.  This day continues to haunt him.  The NVA were finally forced to retreat under heavy rocket fire and mini guns from the cobra gun ships as well as artillery from the nearest US base camp. By the end of the day the infantry company had lost close to two platoons and was evacuated to Dong Tam to regroup.

Beer baseball was a memorable event at Dong Tam. Two 55 gallon drums would be filled with beer and ice.  The batter would have to drink a beer before he could run to the next base. Needless to say, the guys were feeling no pain by the third inning or so.  It was irrelevant who won.

Kenneth "Lanternhead" Marze would return to Fort Polk Louisiana on 5 January 1969 where he would receive a six-month early out. Marrying Chris on 3 January 1970, they would have five children; Kent, Kelly, Angel, Robin, and Missy. The family resides in Port Authur, Texas.

The LRRPs had a reputation that drew people from all over the division to their company area. Barbecuing steak or chicken was a common occurrence and the beer and soda was always ice cold, compliments of the first sergeant Bob "Top" Maushardt. In May or June of 1968, SFC Ray Sonnier started visiting the area as a guest.

Sonnier was with the Division G3 and went to Dong Tam with the advance party. In September of 1968 Ray found himself looking for a job as a MSG came into G3 taking his slot. He was slated to go to a SY-OPS unit but while visiting with the LRRP Commander, Dale Dickey, and 1SGT Bob Maushardt (Sonnier served with Top in Korea) he was offered a spot in the company.

Sonnier's first patrol was with SSG Herbert Pok Dong Cho. The team was compromised early in the patrol and spent the night trying to sleep at a friendly position on a bridge. Someone was constantly throwing grenades in the water and the team got little or no sleep. Ray went out on a few more patrols but do to a hearing profile he was used as a Field 1SGT. His main job with the LRRPs was making sure that they got their mail, and keeping them supplied with beer and soda (which was a very difficult job).

SSG Hilan "Jonesy" Jones, SSG Tom Lindly, SSG Jesse Taylor, and SSG Herbert "Frosty" Frost was helping with construction of the TOC Bunker. Jonesy and Frosty came down off the top of the bunker. Sonnier asked them where they thought they were going, and was told by Jonsey that they were hot and needed a beer. Ray told Jonsey that it was not break time, and for them to get back up there. Jonesy smiled at him and very politely told him that he wasn't big enough to make them go back to work. After the beer break everyone returned to the task of roofing the TOC Bunker.

As a result of this conflict Tom Lindly and Jesse Taylor were told to take over as team leaders or find another job. Frosty and Jonesy received verbal reprimands but were allowed to remain. Lindly went over to the snipers and was honor student of the first class to graduate. Contact with Taylor was lost but he and Lindly were both located in 2000. They both reside in Missouri. Tom in Waynesville and Jesse in Syracuse.

Most of the time Ray could be found working around the company area and unit club but on occasions he would go out with a quick reaction team. A team that had been sent out on VC Island called in and said they were in trouble. A quick reaction team was assembled and he went to the supply room got a rifle and ammunition and went out with the team.

By the time the reaction team got there the team was near the shore. All the reaction team did was provide them covering fire while they got on the boat. When Ray attempted to fire his weapon it wouldn't fire. The firing pin had been removed (Jesse DeLeon has never let him forget this).

Ray resides in DeQueen Arkansas and is very proud to have served with such a great bunch of guys. Looking back on things he has come to realize that they were just a bunch of guys who went into Charlie's A. O. and did their job well.

In the summer of 1968 the unit started doing "Parakeet Flights" patterned after the division's "Eagle Flights" only on a smaller scale. It was meant to discover and disrupt the flow of supplies and munitions via sampan on the delta waterways.

It was mid December 1968 and the Ranger Company had a couple of teams running missions from Fire Support Base Moore. Moore was a battalion sized fire base occupied by the 1st Brigade's 2d Battalion, 39th Infantry. The burm was constructed of a dozed perimeter of dirt topped with concertina wire. It was not a fun place to be even during the best of times. The base came under frequent mortar and rocket attacks. The mud during the rainy season, and the dust blowing during the dry season, made the living conditions beyond miserable. To make matters worse the 2d Battalion S3 was jacking them around and not providing the support needed while in the field. Captain Dickey thought that if an officer was with the teams that would change so he sent Lieutenant Prescott (Puck) Smith to ensure the proper use and support of the elite ranger teams was implemented.

Just before Smith arrived, one of the LRRP teams was in the field, Colonel Geraci (3rd Brigade Commander) was in the command bunker visiting FSB Moore. The team was in contact and was requesting gunship support and extraction. The assistant S-3 was talking to the team leader on the radio, telling him that no support was available and they would have to hold their position as best as possible.

Colonel Geraci heard the transmission, went berserk and fired the assistant S-3 on the spot. Although Smith wasn't there, he later learned from several men that were, that Colonel Geraci questioned the assistant S-3's manhood, called him a coward, and within minutes extraction helicopters and gun ships were in route to support and extract the LRRP team. In his fit of rage Colonel Geraci actually picked the assistant S-3 up and threw him out of the bunker and then said "me and the LRRPs are going to Glory". This sounds corny and hard to believe, but that's what happened.

Smith arrived at FSB Moore a few days later, finding a completely different attitude toward the LRRPs. He pulled his last mission in country from FSB Moore in The Plain of Reeds, finding the support to be outstanding.

Returning to the States in early January of '69, Smith was assigned to the Ranger School Fort Benning. In early May, while working out in the Gym on main post, he ran into Colonel Geraci and was surprised that he remembered him. It was also surprising that Geraci remembered in detail the incident at Fire Support Base Moore. He was certainly one of the most unforgettable characters that Smith met in Vietnam, or the Army, for that matter.

Fire Base Moore--Reacting to intelligence provided by a Long Range Patrol, elements of the 2d Battalion, 39th Infantry and gun ships of the 3d Squadron 17th Air Cavalry killed 86 Viet Cong on November 30th.

It was the second time in a week that the 1st Brigade "Recondos" had capitalized on air cavalry firepower and surveillance to post a large body count.

The Long Range Patrol sighted the enemy force between Cai Lay and Cai Be the night of 29 November. Early the next morning, Troop A of the 3d/17th scouted the area and found the VC near where they had been seen previously.

Within an hour, Company D of the 2d/39th had airmobiled to the west of the enemy and Company A to the northeast. Moving through open areas covered with small, muddy streams, the 9th Division soldiers swept toward a nipa palm and banana tree line.

As the infantry pressed in from two sides, artillery pounded at each end of the VC position and the gun ships sought out individuals and small groups of enemy soldiers. Each element protected the others as they closed in on the VC.

"The gun ships kept the pressure on the enemy so our ground troops could move and they couldn't put effective fire on us," said First Lieutenant Leonard Sprinkles, of Santa Clara, California, a platoon leader.

"As we swept, the gun ships even pointed out VC that were too close to us for them to shoot at so we could spot and kill them," said Specialist Four, Paul Canetti, of Buffalo, New York. "Later we went into the canals and dragged our feet in the mud to find some of their weapons."

After the final count, gun ships had killed 52 enemy soldiers, and accounted for 16 weapons captured. Company D killed 26 VC and captured 13 weapons, while Company A killed eight and took four weapons.

Nine suspects were detained and one VC rallied to the Open Arms program during the day long operation.

The only U.S. casualty was one man wounded.

"This was not a typical Delta operation," said Captain Bob Stephens of Cherry Hill, New Jersey, assistant brigade operations officer. "We usually have to dig them out of the bunkers and the nipa palm, but this was a turkey shoot. The air cav caught over 40 of them moving in the open in broad day light."

Christmas Eve day started out like any other at Tan An except there was supposedly a cease fire in effect for the holiday. Most of the guys had been through "TET" and knew what a cease fire was all about. 10 am rolled around and Duane "Pancho" Alire told everyone to be at the chopper pad by 4 pm as they would be going to Dong Tam for the Bob Hope Christmas Show. Everyone got all gussied up and loaded their libations to take along for the Christmas party at Dong Tam.

They arrived at the pad about 4 pm. Dan Bien looked around and saw Jimmy "old man" Booth, Ronald Kneer, Michael "Cookie" Cook, Bob Pegram, Richard "Richie" Bellwood (who was just back from the hospital from a shrapnel wound to his neck on one of Webber's missions), Ronald Webber, Jim Thayer, Garth Volbright, Jesse DeLeon and a few others. 5 pm came and went with no ride. 6 pm still no ride. Jimmy popped open his jug of V0 and started to make bubbles! It was almost dark when the chopper arrived. Dan was careful boarding as he had a jug of V0 in each side pocket of his trousers.

Viet Nam at dusk was a beautiful sight from a chopper. It was just a short hop to Dong Tam and as they unassed the chopper Dan went around to the window and offered the pilots a jug. They thought he was offering a drink and refused as they were flying. The pilot finally opened the window and Dan shoved in a full bottle and wished him a Merry Christmas. He smiled and returned the Christmas wish.

The guys walked the couple of blocks from the flight line to the company area arriving at the club to find it full of guys they hadn't seen in ages. This turned out to be better than any high school reunion could ever be. The brewskies and war stories flowed with many an "I can top that one" as the group celebrated. They were keeping an eye out for Cookie's team which was coming in from My Phouc Tay. The rest of the guys from Tan An got there but there was no sign of the group from My Phouc Tay. Word came that they couldn't get a chopper in that late to pick up that team so the party continued without them.

About 11 pm Duane and Dan were well on their way and decided that since this was Christmas Eve what better way to celebrate than with some red and green star clusters, with a few white ones thrown in for good measure. Off they went to the to ammo conex, Dan with his trusty Zippo in hand providing light as he searched among the C-4, composition B, hand grenades, and all types of assorted ammunition, for the sought after flares. He finally found the star clusters and started pitching them out to Pancho who finally yelled out that they had enough. Now, where to launch them from? It was decided that the top of the T.O.C. bunker would suit the need just right.

Once on top of the bunker the countdown began, 5 minutes, 4 .......... Dan popped a red one while Pancho popped a green one, then a white, a green, a red and so on. Sirens started to go off so they ducked down thinking the base was under a mortar attack. A short while later a jeep screamed up the road and stopped in front of the T.O.C. There was a bunch of screaming. The company C.Q. was yelling too. Whomever it was got back in the jeep, pulled up to the corner and was heading away when Dan popped a white star cluster just above his windshield. After that things were blurred.

The next thing Dan remembered was being cold and wet. He was awakened to incessant quacking around his head. About that time he opened his eyes and heard someone say "hey Sarge you'd better get cleaned up. Ernie Banks will be here in an hour". There he was, in the ditch, along side of the road with the ducks. He got out and cleaned up, then headed over to the bleachers to meet the rest of the guys. Sure enough here comes Ernie Banks. Dan couldn't believe his eyes.

"Ernie what the hell are you doing here in Viet Nam?" he asked. He said it was the off season and thought it was a good idea to come over and help boost the troop’s morale. Dan had to pinch himself. Being from the Chicago area, Ernie left with one of his trademark slogans, "the Cubs will shine in 69". There was time for lunch before heading over to the show. The place was packed. Dan doesn't remember who opened but Bob Hope finally came out on the stage. There was on an air strike on V.C. Island. After the first bomb hit, Bob crouched down, then jumped up looking over the back of the stage at the big black cloud and remarked, "What the hell was that?” Someone yelled out, "That's war Bob!"

Ann Margaret came on stage and did she ever look bad, like 1,000 miles of bad road, but she finally came around toward the end of her set. All in all the guys felt lucky to have seen the show before hiking back to the company area for the ride back to Tan An.

Someone inquired how the guys were to get back to Tan An before Christmas dinner (one just like home) was served. They were told that some one would take them back in a "deuce & a half ". Loading up with some F.N.G. driving and another one riding shot gun and it was off to Tan An. The bone jarring shifting caused someone to ask the driver if he had a license. He mumbled something none of the Rangers could hear. As they headed out of the gate from Dong Tam a couple of them stood up and rode leaning on the cab of the truck. The breeze felt good.

You can maybe remember Highway 4 as being two paved lanes with a short shoulder and a 6' to 8' drop off to the rice paddies below. Well, they were progressing nicely when up ahead loomed a column of trucks stopped for some reason or another. It appeared to be an ARVN convoy. Dan yelled down for the driver to slow down.

He will never forget the three ARVN soldiers, squatting in the shade at the back of the last truck, eating something from their bowls with chopsticks. The load of rangers was bearing down on them at break-neck speed. The driver yelled that he had no brakes. Someone yelled for him to downshift to reduce the speed. You could see the terror in the eyes of the ARVN soldiers as the "deuce & a half” bore down on them. They finally dove head long into the rice paddy. As contact was made the sound of bumper meeting bumper echoed ahead. The ARVN's were not happy campers. Finally "old man" said "back this thing up and let’s get out of here." As they passed the convoy they met stares that were not friendly at all. Somehow they made it to Tan An in time for Christmas dinner and received a "ditty bag" from the Donut Dollies. What a Christmas it had been!

Don't even ask me how or why, but while at Dong Tam, sometime in December. I went to Mama - Sans laundry to pick up some of my clothes. After I got back to the hooch I opened up the freshly starched uniforms and started putting them away when I made the big discovery.

There was the fully embroidered shirt of the 9th Division's Commanding General, 2 star Julian J. Ewell, right there In front of me. What was I going to do? I found Pancho and Counts. They looked at it and said "hey, let's put it on and take pictures. We can send them home and say we made it to the Big Time." Little Jonesy and a couple of others showed up and wanted their pictures taken wearing the shirt as well.

Do you think he'll miss it? After our photo session I locked it up in my footlocker. After supper Pancho said that he was going to head up to the Donut Dollies compound for a visit and wanted me to come along, but I had letters to write and begged off.

About and hour or so later the C.Q. came and got me. He said someone wanted to talk to me on the born. It was Pancho. He said lets have some fun with that shirt. I asked "how?" He said wear it on over here to the Donut Dollies compound. I told him he was outs and he prodded me on. Finally I agreed. I put the shirt on knowing full well I was going to L. B. J. (Long Binh Jail) for impersonating an officer.

My route took me right through the headquarters area. I was glad it was dark. Someone approached us from the opposite direction and I was glad that the area was dimly lit. We passed but I wasn't recognized. When I got to the compound the place was surrounded by M.P.'s. As I walked up to the gate one of them snapped to attention and saluted. I thought for sure was I in deep trouble. I returned the salute and the M.P. said "Evening. Sir." I told him to "Carry on" as I walked up to the door of the compound. As I opened the door and stepped inside someone shouted "Attention" and everybody got to their feet and saluted. They looked and saw that I was not General Ewell. The salutes fell and I knew my goose was cooked. Everybody started to laugh and I felt better. Our company commander, Dale Dickey, was in attendance as well as other captains, majors, and colonels. To my everlasting relief somebody said "Let me have that shirt. I want to have fun with it". I was glad to relinquish the shirt as I had all the fun I had ever wanted with it. I was looking for Pancho as I fully intended to strangle him right there in front of his beloved Donut Dollies.

Dan was not superstitious but when word came alerting them for a mission by PBR out of Tan An that night he had second thoughts. "Pancho" came with the operations order and they headed for the docks on the beautiful Van Co Tay River. The team was to head up river along the Plain of Reeds almost to Moc Hoa, a stones throw from Cambodia. The mission would be to monitor for any sampan traffic.

Meeting the captain of the lead PBR they went over the plan. The captain pointed on the map to where there was a cut at the narrow end of an ox-bow. He explained they had been ambushed there a couple of nights before. They would take the same route that night. Dan told the boat captain that he was short with only thirteen days to go. The captain commented that he wasn't superstitious. That made him feel better.

At dusk they headed up river toward the destination. Just as the boats entered the ox bow short cut, they drew fire from the South bank. Making it out of the kill zone the boats regrouped a mile or so up river to check for casualties and damage. It was a wonder that no one was hit and the boats survived. Up ahead there was a conflagration going on with gun ships and flares that lit up the night sky right where the patrol was to go.

The mission was aborted and gun ships were called to cover the exit out of the ambush area. None were available. The boats would have to make it out on their own. Knowing about where the ambush had occurred, they would be ready. All available firepower was lined up along the gunwale. The rangers were ready with their rifles as well as the navy machine gunners on both boats. The boat captain told his crew "Let's go" and off they went. When the lead boat hit the area he opened up with all he had and was followed in short order by those on the trailing boat. Dan didn't recall receiving fire at that time.

Making it back to Tan An in the wee hours of the morning the patrol leader called for a vehicle to pick them up. The roads hadn't been cleared so if the guys wanted to get back to camp they would have to walk. Anxious to return and get some sleep they opted to walk the short distance home. As they crossed the bridge over the river the rangers found the GIs guarding the approach fast asleep. They were tempted to take the machine gun but decided to wake them instead. As they neared the gate one of the guards hollered "Halt. Who goes there?" We were tired, upset, and anxious to get some sleep. They were not in the mood to play games. Needless to say they let the team in.

Dan went straight to the tactical operations center (T.O.C.) and was greeted by an "S-2" major who exclaimed, "Oh, you were ambushed by Charlie Company 2nd of the 60th. When Dan heard that he went off to the tune of "with all due respect sir, if we could have gotten gun ships to cover our ass as we broke out of the area you'd be writing a hundred or so letters home to those guys’ folks" and walked out.

It wasn't that the route hadn't been cleared to insure that there were no friendly troops in the area. The rangers were told that we were in "Charlie's Country", which seemed to account for the confusion. Dan is bothered to this day of the ramifications if they would have gotten the gun ships. He shudders at the thought.

"Pancho" came in with the operations order for Ron Webber's next mission. Bob Pegram and Dan Bien were scheduled for radio relay. They would set up with Bravo Company 2nd of the 60th at "too-a too-a". Unfortunately their transportation broke down. As they waited for the jeep to be fixed they wondered if they would get set up in time. Once it was fixed they made it to Thu Thua just in time to set up the 292 antennas and radio, then have a "hot pack" supper prior to the team's insertion.

The night passed uneventfully, but as Bob and Dan surveyed the surroundings, they were both glad that they didn't end up in an outfit like that. The trip back to Tan-An was also uneventful. They would make one more journey to Thu Thua before heading back to Dong Tam.

With four days to go, Duane got word to head back to Dong Tam to get ready to DEROS. The next day, Dan finally got word to head back as well. Arriving at Dong Tam, Dan found that Jim Counts and Richard Jones had not received his orders. Dan Bien worried? You betcha! Finally, the next day (two days to go) his orders were cut and he started to clear out. He was given the usual re-up talk and really thought hard about it. Bob Pegram, Gary Beckham, Jim Counts, and Richard "Little Jonesy" Jones decided they would extend the 45 days and get out for good. Pancho had opted to go home. Dan thought about it as he looked around at all the new people who had arrived in recent weeks and felt like he should stay to help out.

Headed for the "club", Dan ran into Richard Bellwood. He stopped him asking, "Ritchie, whose going to keep an eye on you when I leave?" Bellwood replied "don't worry Sergeant Bien. I can take care of myself". Wondering out loud if he really meant that, Bellwood assured him that he would make it OK. That helped Dan make up his mind. He let Lt. Dickey know of his intentions. Dan would later suffer great remorse over his decision when informed by letter from Pegram of Richards demise along with a bunch of others.

Pancho and Dan loaded up with their gear in a 3/4 ton and were given a ride to Bien Hoa for the appointment with a Freedom Bird and a trip across the pond to a place called home. Words cannot express the torture of the last 24 hours in-country as you waited for your name to be called at "Port Call". When it finally comes you are too exhausted to fully comprehend the joyful feeling of going home. After boarding the plane and taxing down the runway, no one drew a breath until the plane reached an altitude that they all felt safe from being shot down. "What a long strange trip it had been!"

1969 Compiled by Bill Cheek

"I carried 3 M-14 pouches and 1 canteen on my web belt...The M-14 pouches could hold 5 M-16 magazines. We put a piece of black electrical tape on the butt of each magazine to form a tab so we could pull the first 4 out of the pouch easier and sliced the top half inch or so of the pouches so as to lay the 5th magazines across the top. I generally carried 2 of these pouches loaded with tracer every 3rd round and the other pouch had all ball rounds for penetrating heavy growth or for firing without giving my location away so easily. I also carried 2 magazines in my leg pockets loaded with straight tracer for marking my or the enemy location for the fly boys when the radio could not do the job accurately enough. I also had 2 magazines taped together in a V shape in my weapon for quick reaction reloading at first contact. In the really bad areas, I also carried 1 or more 7 magazine bandoleers made of OD cloth and from 6 to 15 grenades of various types and a claymore as well as the PRC-25. Needless to say, when the mud got thick, I was walking deep. Almost forgot the big starlight scope also!

The following mission explains why I was not a fan of all tracer loads. One night in January of 69, Herb Frost, Roman Mason, Leon Moore, Mark Durham and I were on a mission east of Ben Tre in a populated area with much tree growth separated by small rice paddies and Vietnamese hooch’s every hundred meters or so. We were moving from hooch to hooch looking for military age males or any sign of weapons when we spotted a man walking at us from a wooded area. When he was about half way across the rice paddy, we called to him to stop. He took off like a ruptured duck and managed to dodge our fire. That SOB could have been an Olympic champion sprinter.

About 45 minutes later a bunch of his friends came into the area to return our greeting. We were in hooch searching for weapons when a large volume of fire went over the roof. The local VC seemed to know there were 2 women and a small kid in the hooch with us so avoided shooting directly into the place. This gave us a definite advantage. I was on one corner and had cut a slit through the thatched wall just above a short mud wall and could see the VC firing positions every time they popped up to shoot. There was enough star light and a few klicks away someone was shooting illumination rounds that partially backlit their position. One of them must have been a FNG VC because he was shooting almost all tracer and each time he popped up to shoot, he cut loose with all 30 rounds just over my head but still above the roof. Keep in mind that this was not a heavy battle but, rather, just friendly exchanges of lead to let each of us know that the other guy was there.

I saw this guy pop up twice from the same spot and empty his magazine so was waiting when he did it for the 3rd and final time. As soon as I saw his solid line of green tracer start, I was aimed in at that spot and cut loose with a full clip of mixed ball and tracer. I bet 3/4th of my load caught him in the upper chest and face. I watched as his tracer line climbed into the sky before stopping. At that point, the other VC reduced fire and quit using tracer.

A few minutes later they must have decided they had enough of us and pulled their X-FNG off for last rites. We also decided that it was time to go so called for extraction. I remember wondering if any had stayed behind to give us a going away party when the bird came but, if so, they did no more shooting as we pulled out. Tracers were a nice tool but they work in both directions. This also shows the kind of problems we had in the delta with LRP missions. Way too much population and too little solid cover in many areas."

Trapped in mud-walled hooch by a superior VC force 29 years ago one of my team scouts went to sleep on rear security......on a night when 60 or more very unfriendly people were out searching for us in at least 3 groups. Unfortunately, one of their elements found us from that direction first and damned near bagged our whole team. Below is the story of that night. An earlier version of it was published in "Behind the Lines" magazine in 1993. For any of you active duty guys, please kick the shit out of anyone you ever find asleep on guard. It might help save the lives of them and others.

On 25 January 1969, a long range reconnaissance patrol in Dinh Tuong Province came under an intense barrage of hostile fire from a numerically superior enemy force. As the patrol neared the wood line , they were completely exposed and came under a murderous hail of fire. Specialist Bellwood courageously engaged the enemy with his rifle, quickly silencing two of the nearest hostile emplacements , giving his comrades time to reach cover. As he continued to lay down a heavy base of suppressive fire, he was mortally wounded by an enemy round.

A Lurp team fights desperately for survival. With half the team KIA and the team leader blinded, gun ships and medevacs are the survivors' only hope.

January 27, 1969 started out just like many other days for Team 17, with us preparing for yet another night ambush patrol off the Mobile Riverine Force. I served with E/50 Long Range Patrol from April 68 through January 69. We had teams scattered all over the 9th Division AO. Several months earlier, our teams were kicked off the Mobile Riverine Force for smuggling beer on board. Shortly thereafter a VC sapper team swam out to the USS Westchester County near Toi San Island with a large quantity of plastic explosives and blew two huge holes in it. We were quickly forgiven and invited to return to the ships. We began running ambush patrols along trails and canals within a few klicks of the MRF. In the previous three weeks, we had pulled several effective missions on the south bank area near a major canal intersection called the "cross roads." This area was roughly between My Tho and Ben Tre and consisted of large sections of heavy forest and jungle swamps bordered by kilometers of wide open rice paddies. About half of these missions resulted in contact with a very active local VC force.

On this mission, I planned to insert by chopper near a heavy wood line and move the team several hundred meters to a position near one of the canals. Late on that afternoon, I flew over the area in a LOH to pick out some possible sites while on the way to drop off George Calabrese and Chuck Semmit at Ben Tre to be our radio relay. Shortly after returning to the MRF, the Huey arrived and carried six of us off into what turned out to be deep shit.

At our first insertion point, we were only on the ground about thirty seconds before a VC strolled out of the woods a hundred meters away with his AK over his shoulder like a hobo's pack. He spotted me and jumped back into the woods just as I cut loose with a burst from my 16. I decided at that point to extract and move a couple klicks to see if we could get a clean insertion. We landed near small hooch I remembered from a previous mission to be a water buffalo shed. It was almost dark as I scanned the wood line. At that point, I decided it was going to be an interesting night, because there was a Vietnamese man in the woods looking right back at me. When I reported this, I was told we were to keep the mission going anyway. I waited until full dark and got the team moving out of there. About an hour later, I heard a brief burst of fire from the vicinity of our last position. I figured we had escaped unseen, but we were not able to get into the woods because of heavy movement of people on their way home. We came to a cluster of five hooch’s scattered over an area the size of a football field. All but one appeared to be empty. We entered one that was isolated from the others and found it to be built like a fortress. It had thick mud walls, about four feet high, which ran all the way around except for the door opening and a large above-ground bunker of mud and tree trunks. Because of a dry thatch wall on one side, which would have caused too much noise to remove, I had to deploy two men outside on that corner. This should have caused no problem, as they could quickly jump over the wall and knock holes in the thatching if it became necessary. For the next several hours we waited and watched to see what would happen.

At 2300 hours, I put the team on 50% alert. Richard Thompson, Mark Durham, and Roman Mason took their shot at getting some sleep, while Norman Crabb, Leon Moore and I watched for any activity. Around 2320 hours I thought I saw movement in the woods about 150 meters away. It was a clear night with starlight so bright I could almost read by it. I moved to Moore's position to get the starlight scope. He said there had been no activity on his side of the hooch, away from the wood line. For the next few minutes, Norman Crabb and I observed what appeared to be about twenty people moving around in the woods across from us. I was not overly concerned, because I had claymores set up in that direction.

Just as I decided to wake the team for possible action and to contact base, I heard voices behind me. Thinking it was Mason and Moore, I grabbed my 16 and started around the hooch to shut them up and get them inside. I had just turned the corner of the hooch when I recognized the voices were Vietnamese, and five armed VC stood four feet from me. They were so preoccupied looking down at the sleeping forms of my rear security element; they did not even notice me. I raised my 16 to waste them when I noticed about twenty more VC on the other side of a paddy dike ten feet past Mason and Moore's position. I slipped back around the corner and had Crabb cover the closest VC while I moved inside to wake the other guys. I looked over the wall as I whispered into the radio for assistance. We were unable to figure a sure way to wake Mason and Moore and get them in before they would be hit. There must have been at least twenty weapons trained on them at point blank range. My radio relay people told me that division would not send gun ships until we were in contact. I told everyone to open up at once, hoping that we could put out enough fire to allow Mason and Moore to get inside. It did not work, and they were cut down before they could even start to move.

The mud walls of the hooch held up against the heavy battering from all those AK's, and the thick roof thatching absorbed the blast from several grenades. So far, the people I spotted in the wood line had not started firing. I figured they wanted us to run from the hooch into their ambush, but I was not about to leave Mason and Moore behind, even if I could. I decided to remove my radio and crawl around the hooch to a point where I could fire along the right flank of the attacking force, when I spotted more people on my left flank. We were completely surrounded and taking fire from three sides. About that time, an RPG came in the door and detonated on the ground three feet in front of me. I think the blast caused me to do a complete back flip while flying about fifteen feet across the hooch. For the first few seconds, it felt like someone hit me in the face with a two-by-four, but it quickly numbed into a dull throb. I could not see anything, even though there had been enough light in the hooch before from tracers to see quite well.

I crawled back across the floor, feeling for my 16 and the radio, when I heard another large blast to my right. Thompson fell to the floor and died almost immediately. Only about five minutes had passed since the first shot, and half my team was KIA, and I was blind. I found my 16 and asked my radio relay team where the Cobra's were. I was told they were on the way and Hotel-Volley 27, the call sign of a 105 battery at fire base Claw, came up on my frequency and asked if we wanted artillery support. With VC within 10 to 20 feet away and me blind, I said no. I could not pull one of my last two men off the wall long enough to call in 105's on our own heads.

After about fifteen minutes of heavy firing, Crabb came to me to say he was out of ammo and Durham was on his last magazine. Since I had been blinded so early in the fight, I had plenty left. I started handing magazines to them and then finally handed my web gear to Crabb after removing a grenade to keep just in case we were overrun. I noticed that the VC firing was also slacking off and figured they were also running low. I told Crabb and Durham to start shooting semi-automatic at selective targets to keep us going as long as possible. I called once again to ask where the hell our gun ships were and to advise that in a few more minutes they would only need to send graves registration for a reaction force. One of the sweetest sounds I can remember hearing was when Charger 21 told me to mark my position so his gun ships could open up. I had Crabb throw my strobe light out the door and said anything more than twenty feet from it was all theirs. The VC that could, hauled ass out of there as rockets and mini-guns started tearing up the area. I told Crabb and Durham that we would first drag out our dead teammates when the extraction ship landed, and if there was no effective sniper fire they could go back for our equipment. A chopper crew with balls like King Kong landed in that mess and waited on the ground for us to load. Crabb led me to the bird to keep me from walking into the tail rotor. The gun ships did such a great job of building a wall of lead and fire that we had no problem extracting.

I spent the next ten and a half months recovering from wounds and learning how to live as a blind man. Well, it could have been a whole hell of a lot worse. I recently got back in touch with some of the old gang and it is great. My times at the Ranger reunions and at the Wall have been a terrific way to heal many of the old wounds.

On occasion a LRRP team will get lucky and find something big. That was the case on 25 January when a team led by Michael O'Day exposed an NVA company, called in gunships, were extracted, and  turned the action over to the 3rd Brigade. A text book mission, one of many, conducted by the LRRPs.

At dusk on 26 February 1969, the Hunter Killer team was inserted into an LZ in an open rice paddy by two HUEY slicks, escorted by a pair of gun ships. It was a cold LZ.

SGT David Stone was point man and the team leader for the Hunter team. On landing, Stone noticed many places on and around the LZ where the reeds were bent over as if someone had recently been sitting on them. He reckoned a large enemy force had just vacated the area because the reeds were bending back up as he watched.

Most likely, it was a large infiltrating enemy force coming out of Cambodia with orders not to get decisively engaged who were taking ten when they saw the insertion birds, realized trouble was on its way and hightailed it into the woods. Some thing gave Stone an uneasy feeling. The terrain did not jive with the map and the matted down grass bothered him.

Stone was a veteran Ranger leader. It was probably his sixth sense, developed during dozens of such missions, shouting: danger, danger, danger. He quickly moved the force off the LZ and into the nearby woods, stopping when they came to a clearing. He then wisely called for a marking round to check his position, in case he was in the middle of a large enemy force; he'd be able to bring in the artillery big stick. Just at that moment, SGT Wesley Watson, who was at the rear of the column, saw an armed enemy soldier dressed in Khaki about 15 meters from him. Before he could get a shot off the guy disappeared into the darkness. Then a single shot was heard.

Not knowing what was going on in the rear of his column, he realized the team had lost surprise when the signal shot was heard, and trouble was on the way. He set his force up in a tight perimeter and waited for the artillery marking round. Suddenly four dinks walked into the clearing. A Ranger yelled 'La Dai' and when they ran; they joined the ranks of the KIA.

Stone threw a grenade. It hadn't gone more than a foot when an explosion went off behind him and blew him out of the wood line and into the clearing. He was hit in the back by shrapnel and momentarily stunned, his shocked brain trying to connect his grenade with the explosion that came from the opposite direction. Then more explosions clobbered the perimeter as incoming M- 79 rounds, hand grenades and B-40 rockets were fired at the ranger position. The common quote from all the survivors was "all hell broke loose".

Thirty-two years after the saga, Ranger Wesley Watson said the minute the team landed a VC LZ watcher spotted them. "A few minutes later we started taking heavy small arms fire. We returned fire and that brought a barrage of RPG fire aimed at the trees above us, creating air bursts -- which is what caused so many casualties so quickly."

The Rangers blasted back with three M-60 machine guns, an XM-203 Over and Under - combined M16 and M79 -- and a dozen M16s. The intensity of the Ranger return fire probably stopped an enemy attack as they must've realized they didn't have some small LRRP team -- they had a tiger by the tail, a heavily armed Hunter Killer Force.

The enemy backed off fast. Even though Sergeants Stone and Charles Chesser were both hit they worked on the other wounded Rangers. Ranger Warren Lizotte was seriously wounded in the head exposing part of his brain. Stone tended to him while Chesser patched up the others. Lt. Robert Hill, the mission leader, was very badly wounded along with Sgt. Jerry Wilson. All told sixteen Rangers were hit, but all except Lizotte, who was really down for the count, bravely manned their weapons and hammered the enemy with heavy and sustained fire.

The incoming fire had knocked out every Ranger radio. One PRC-25 had a light glowing in the Frequency Indicator box. Stone, hoping that even though it was damaged it could still transmit, called for support.

Meanwhile, back at the Dong Tam Ranger TOC, HUEY pilot Warrant Officer LaPotta heard the "May Day" call. He raced to his chopper and took off not even waiting the required five minute engine warm up time in his rush to fly to his besieged Rangers buddies. Stone turned his strobe light on when he heard the circling bird. LaPotta turned on his landing lights and came in hot on the small clearing, About 20 feet off the ground the bird clipped a tree with its tail rotor and went into a wild spin, crashing onto its side. The main rotor went flying and the turbine raced out of control as the crew unassed the chopper yelling, "It's going to blow" to Stone and Dennis McNally, who'd raced over to the downed bird to help. When things settled down and LaPotta figured the bird wasn't going to explode, he returned to the aircraft and shut it down. The crew then removed the ships' weapons and ammo and joined Stone's people on the perimeter.

Ranger Warren Lizotte died a few hours after he was evacuated back to Dong Tam. Lt. Hill, Sgt. Wilson, Ranger Richard Shimel and a few other badly wounded Rangers never returned to the company.

HUEY pilot LaPotta was almost court martialed for his heroic, but unauthorized and some say reckless flight. Ranger CO Captain Dale Dickey went to General Ewell and got the charges thrown out. Ewell well understood Dickey's defense: "Screw the regulations; he was trying to save my men." Stone and Chesser were awarded the Silver Star for their incredible gallantry.

On 10 April 1969, a hunter killer team was put together and inserted into a large open rice paddy. SFC Jesse Stephens was the new Operations NCO for Tan An and wanted to see first hand how the guys operated in the open areas of the Mekong Delta. Other members of the team were Ray Bazini, Chip Capps, Bill Christiansen, Hilan Jones, Lonnie Evans. The insertion was uneventful but shortly after all hell broke loose. The patrol had only moved inland a few meters when a loud explosion was heard. The Lurps returned automatic weapons fire into the nearest tree line hoping to hit whoever might be in the area.

Lonnie Evans was killed instantly as a claymore pellet entered his back between the shoulder blades and pierced his heart. Jones was hit in the right buttocks as a pellet went through his thigh and lodged in his scrotum. Two others received small shrapnel wounds.

The evacuation was accomplished in short order and the patrol returned to Tan An. Jones was evacuated to Saigon the on to Zama Japan.

Ranger missions were diverse and not always done according to the book, one such was a rescue mission. The call for help came to the Rangers and Sergeant Boudreau quickly assembled a team to assist. A vehicle had been ambushed about half way between My Tho and Dong Tam and the two occupants were wounded. They were rescured by the ranger team just minutes after the call was made.

Team 22 had a busy and successful week. On 31 May they destroyed a mortar squad and on June 2 they teamed with gunships to kill 19 Cong. Just a typical day in the life of a Ninth Division Ranger.

Another successful "Parakeet" mission.

21 June was a sad day for Echo Company 75th Ranger. During the conduct of a "parakeet" mission, Staff Sergeant Herbert "Frosty" Frost was killed doing what he loved to do, killing the enemy any way he could. A suspected VC was spotted and like they had done so many times before the chopper swooped in and the Rangers were off and running, chasing the VC along a rice paddy dike. The fleeing enemy fired a shot over his shoulder as he was fleeing and got lucky. "Frosty" died doing what he did best.

Company "E" executed the coup of the war when Ranger Mike Kentes zapped the highest-ranking VC killed, Lt. General Hat Tram, in an ambush, on 24 August 1969. "A six man team -- SGTs Jessie Stephens, Christie Valenti, Tom Dineen, Ray Bazini, a former VC named Kiet a PRU (Provincial Recon Unit, part of the CIA Project Phoenix Program that was -- according to Ranger Cheek - carried out in part by "E" Company) and CPL Mike Kentes -- was operating near the Cambodian border," Ranger Cheek said. "Kentes shot a guy and when their team swept the contact area, they took a POW who turned out to be the personal physician of VC LT General Hai Tram." After the raid, Military Intelligence thought the dead VC might be General Tram and the team was immediately reinserted in the area to find out. Documents found on the body confirmed he was General Tram -- and Kentes recovered his pistol. General Abrams and the American Ambassador flew in to congratulate the Rangers.

This was a big deal. Getting Tram was like Grant getting Lee or the VC zapping Abrams. Cheek recalls, waking up to the sound of someone running through the Ranger barracks back at Tan An saying 'Kentes killed a General, Kentes killed a General.' I remember mumbling groggily to myself "was it one of ours or one of theirs?"

Team 22, Ralph Funk's old team now led by Stu Koontz, was on IRF - Initial Reaction Force status at Tan An. Mid afternoon sometime in the fall of 69' a call came in to TOC about an enemy sighting in a free fire zone in the Plain of Reeds by someone in a chopper. The team was scrambled and was at the chopper pad within seconds and lifted off in pursuit of the elusive foe.

They were vectored into the area by the 'higher-higher' who initially made the sighting and off loaded near some heavy nipa palm. The ''Oscar 5 or 6" (either a Ltc. or full bird)  came up on the team freq and directed them to a path that led into some very heavy, thick brush and within two meters made a hard right turn.

Koontz thought "uh oh, this doesn't look too good; I sure could use Nhan (Team 22's PRU - a North Vietnam native and Catholic whose parents were killed by the Communists prior to 1954). He saw hand painted 'Tu Dia' on a piece of metal somewhat hidden by the foliage, remembering from in-country indoctrination that was Vietnamese for Booby Trap. Koontz was convinced he didn't want to go into that nipa palm without a really, really good reason and the dude in the chopper hovering at 2000 feet just didn't provide a good enough of one.

Next thing he heard was some squawking on the horn about what's going on down there and what's the hold up? He told the Oscar that they weren't going in there without some good prep fire by Spooky or a Cobra and some arty and maybe even a couple 500 pound napalm drops. That sure as hell didn't go over too well with the colonel and he let Koontz know it.  Said he had to go into the Nipa and check it out. He backed off when Koontz suggested he un ass that chopper and go into the Nipa himself and they would provide covering fire.

Team 22 was on a daytime patrol in a huey flying along a waterway (with gun ships for cover).  Don Andrews was in the process of taking over as team leader and Koontz was along to help with the transition.  They were going along a blue, when several NVA in a sampan were spotted.  The huey pilot did a quick pull-up and turned to set them down, but when the rotors started chopping tree branches and leaves, the team went ahead and jumped out.

Andrews had on a PRC 77 radio that was previously used by Paul Fitzsimons.  The straps were adjusted for him and were caked with dried mud.  When Andrews put it on he couldn’t adjust it, so the radio hung down low on his waist.  When they jumped out, he landed in the mud and sunk knee deep.  The radio slammed into the back of his head opening a good size gash in his neck, making a nice cut.  We rounded up the NVA and had them choppered off to MI, so they could interrogate them and let ‘em go, or whatever they do (that was always the scuttlebutt!).

Returning to Tan An, the team was walking from the chopper pad through the artillery area, to the main street of the Brigade base camp.  As they got to the street, right across from the PX, they saw two things simultaneously.  One was the 3rd Brigade/9th Div. Commander, the other was two FNG’s (------- New Guys), with their still green (bright green) fatigues.  The FNG’s started saluting for all they were worth (Isn’t that all they teach you in basic??).  The Colonel hollered a greeting to the LRRPs, and they hollered back. 

The FNG’s looked at them:  Muddy, bloody (the blood had dried on the side of Andrews’ neck and collar), half worn-off camouflage, and probably no complete uniform among them.  As he recalls, they were prone to wearing cut-offs and going barefooted.

While many of the directives received were deemed stupid, it was truly believed that many were issued simply because many of the officers making the decisions didn't know how to tactically employ the LRRPs.  Colonel Hackworth was right on when he said they were fighting the war using WW II tactics.  Remember, the LRRP units were on the cutting edge of new war fighter tactics.  Many of the things they did hadn't been done before.  Then throw in the factor of ticket punches and awards, there were tremendous pressures brought to bear.  Had it not been for "Top” Press keeping the LRRP officers straight, they may have gotten into many conflicts as well?

Norm Breece had taken over team #11 after graduating from Recondo School, from Curtis Daniels after he was killed.  One of the first missions for his team was a stay behind with a line unit from the 3rd Brigade.  During the visual recon Norm gleaned right away that it was going to be extremely difficult to find a good "hide" in this highly populated area.  The mission was to collect some high ranking VC/NVA that was meeting in the small ville northwest of Tan Tru.  He dropped off the tail gunner into the hide position at last light.  Immediately there were children in the area looking for the team. A couple of young girls walked into the position and had to be kept with the team until they were ready to move on the hooch. 

It wasn’t very long when the night calm was saturated with the heavy noise of mechanized tracks. Norm called to Weids & Stinky who were monitoring the radio at base camp and asked them to identify the mechanized unit to the South.  They called back saying there were no friendlies in the area.  That was confusing to Breece as he was somewhat confident that NVA armor hadn't traveled that far south.  They continued to hear the tracks coming closer and closer, but higher continued to deny their existence.  At 2000 hours the team moved into the ville, taking along the kids they had acquired.  The hooch was a negative, but the most elaborate one he had seen during his tour to date.  The cat had some serious cash.  The tracks could be heard moving into their final night position, gunning the Detroit's as they came on line.

Releasing the girls, the team began moving west from the ville and into the night position.  Kentes was walking point as they broke from the midst of the last hooch, when a round snapped by his face.  He hit the deck and everyone thought he was jacking around.  Breece told him to get up and move out, when he immediately received another round right by his snoot.  Again, for some reason, Breece hadn't heard the round and summarily chewed on Kentes and told him to get moving.  They had only moved far enough for the entire team to get along side a big dike line running east and west when all hell broke loose.  The tracks unloosed a major barrage from their 50s.  The ground actually felt as if an earthquake was occurring.  The ground was being ground away and flying everywhere.  Kentes and Valenti had unders, Cheek had his M-79, Root, and Phouc M-16s and Breece carried his Car-15.  Everyone with the 40s were told to put as many rounds in the air as possible, they managed 3 in the short seconds before the first round hit the tree line about 400-500 yards to the south.  They all fired one magazine of 5.56 to break contact, got up and ran as hard as they could to the west.  It worked, as the tracks lit up the area just to their rear.  With contact broken, they continued to low crawl along the dike. 

Breece had been on the radio with the Fire Support Base trying to get the goofy ARVNs off their backsides, when a marking round went off.  Willie Peet, 200 feet up. The big guns were firing from Tu Tua.  Norm had previously fired with the Red Legs over there and quickly went up on their push telling them to check fire as it was friendlies they would be firing up.  They acknowledged and initiated the check fire. 

SFC Jesse Stephens, higher had told him they wanted them to move to a position to the west.  He came back much too aggressively and said a few expletives that later got his butt in a sling, but they finally sent a chopper out and extracted them.  The run to the chopper seemed like an eternity, knowing the trigger happy ARVNs were just a few hundred yards to the south.  Needless to say, SFC Stephens had some choice words for him back at the ranch.

Around that same time, they pulled a security mission with three arty guys, a major and two enlisted guys with the biggest starlight scope Breece had ever seen.  They were to set up at the junction of a major dike line.  Breece had a good visual recon and planned how they would conduct the mission. The problems began when they hit the LZ, close to last light.  Immediately the major had the misconception that he was in charge.  He wanted to split the teams and move several hundred yards apart to wait for dark.  Breece immediately nixed that idea and told the major in no uncertain terms that if he wanted to split up, he could move his people to an area of cover to their northwest and he would set up security there in a defendable position.  The major was ticked off and moved into his position. 

It started to rain and for a while it was miserable.  Breece had carefully watched where the major had gone and when it became dark he moved out.  They circled his position to the south and came in from the west.  By now, the moon was giving some good light and they showed the red legs why they were good at what they did.  Sneaking up behind them, they watched for a short time as the three were staring to the east, not having a clue the LRRPs were right behind them.  Breece slowly moved up behind the major and tapped him on the shoulder thinking he would probably wet his pants.  They moved out to the preplanned junction of the dikes, set them up to watch, and all went to sleep.  Man that was a big starlight scope!

We pulled another stay behind with a unit from the 3rd Bde.  This one was really fun.  We took trucks out to the jump off point and once again were the tail gunners of the file.  We were moving thru a large Ville, I don't recall which; all of us were at high alert as a whole company had walked through there already.  We were walking parallel to a large canal when a gook stood up right in the bushes beside the hardball.  I heard 6 M16 safeties, click, click, click, etc.  We didn't fire the dude up because we recognized the Chu Hoi from the line unit.  That dump almost cost him his life.  The interesting thing was the grunts right in front of us seemed oblivious to the guy.  They didn't even pull up their weapons. 

We continue into the night marching toward the NW.  We had been traveling about an hour and a half when I heard something coming from the West.  I halted the grunts near me and the team and we lay down.  Whatever it was coming, they sounded like a heard of elephants.  I called the CO and told him of the movement, and he halted his formation.  The noise stopped.  Here we are out in the middle of nowhere with a point element of this company lost.  I told the CO the noise had quit, that his point element was walking right into his flank element and to pass the word not to fire us up.  He clamed he knew where he was at and it couldn't be him.  On of the platoon leaders had been listening to our discussion and moved back to my position.  We discussed the situation; he called the CO and confirmed the snafu.  The COs solution was to have all of the men in the formation continue to follow the man in front of him and come back to the spot we were at.  I told him my team would remain and wait for them to wade through two blue lines and link back up.  We had a very pointed discussion, but I remained there. 

After quite a while, the tail element was back to our position, and we continued north.  After another half hour or so the CO called me up to his position.  He was under his poncho with a red lens flashlight.  We discussed our position and he was lost.  I tried to tactfully show him where we were but my patience was really running thin.  Finally, I went up on Arty's push and called for two marking rounds on adjacent grids, did a resection, and found out I was about 150 meters from where I thought I was.  Man was that young Cpt mad.  We dropped off at our mission site shortly thereafter.  It turned out to be a dumping point on a major dike line close to a Ville.  The rats were as big as house cats.  Man to this day I still can't stand rats.  They were crawling across our legs and feet.  They weren't scared of anything.  They would jump when you poked them with the barrel of the 16 but were right back.

This mission really took on another twist.  We were to move to an LZ for pick up at first light.  So, we move into position and awaited the sun.  About 0600 I got a call informing me a 25th ID unit was in big contact and no air assets were available until later.  Well we were out of water, and had no rations because this was to be an over nighter.  Shame on us.  We waited until around 1000 hrs, still no choppers.  We were about 700 meters from the blue line that run right by the TOC of the unit we went out with.  We moved to the river and after a couple of shots across the bow, Papasan pulled his sampan over to the bank and gave us a ride to the Ville close to the TOC.  As I recalled we paid the old boy a few MPC and he was giggly. 

The Major we ran into when we walked into the TOC to borrow his land line to arrange transportation back to Tan Ann wasn't very amused.  This was the same bugger eater that couldn't get us a ride home, but was really upset we found our own way.  He summarily chewed my backside.  Well that day he discovered the truth of the axiom, "where there is a LRP there is a way". 

1970 Compiled by Brent Gulick

Many thoughts raced through Lieutenant Walker's mind as he waited in the Naval Operations Center at Ben Luc, Vietnam. The young Engineer officer was contemplating the mission with which he was soon to be involved. He was waiting to meet Lieutenant Toschik, Operations Officer, Company E (Ranger), 75th Infantry. The Rangers had a special interest in Walker; his company could furnish them with small, fast boats (Kinner Ski Barges) which they needed for their operation AQUABUSH. Although he had never participated in the operation, Walker had heard many stories about the missions. Tonight he was going to accompany the Rangers on an "Aquabush" to get a feel of the mission and to determine how his boats and crews would fit into future operations.

Toschik soon arrived and wasted no time in introducing Walker to the aquabush concepts. He began the briefing on the way to the wharf: "We've been giving Charlie hell along his sampan highways and in his Nipa Palm sanctuaries. The Regional and Popular Forces and our 'ground pounders' haven't let the enemy out of the Nipa lately. The 'old man' got with the Navy and worked out a combined operation -the Aquabush- whereby we can go after the VC in their own back yard."

As the two officers reached the waterfront, Toschik pointed to a cluster of small outboard motor boats, similar to those used for fishing and water skiing back in the States. "It took much work to get our boats rigged like we want them, and to get our techniques worked out with the Navy. All of our men are swimmers and each is cross-trained as a pilot; in fact, each man is cross- trained in many other skills. These boats are the Navy's Boston Whalers with fiberglass hulls and twin 40 HP engines which can attain a speed of 30 knots and get on a plane in 10 meters. One boat has its own electric starter - a necessity in our operation. We tried a big 85 HP engine, but it didn't have the power of two 40s, nor did it have a reserve propulsion capability. We designed that M60 mount to give a low silhouette for the machine gunner and to keep the center of gravity down. The pilot's PRC-77 is strapped to the steering console. Thus far, a shortage of repair parts has been our greatest problem. We resorted to cannibalization in an effort to keep two boats operational at all times. Now, the Navy is pulling out of this immediate area. That's why we need your help - they are going to take their boats with them."

Walker thought about his Kinner Ski Barges and compared them with the Whalers. The Ski Barge has a metal hull and is a little larger craft; the capabilities are about the same. His boats also used twin 40s and each boat had an electric starter. The Ski Barges' machinegun mounts were taller than the Navy ones - they'd have to be shortened. He explained to Toschik that the boats would interchange, and that there should be no difficulty making the switch. The Engineers had an outboard motor mechanic, by MOS, and a Prescribed Load List. Maintenance should be no problem. He was intrigued by the mission, however, and quizzed Toschik for more information.

"The whalers are always used in pairs for mutual support. The Navy provides two crewmen -a pilot and a machine gunner. We split a six-man Ranger team between two boats, and we're ready for action. Each Ranger wears camouflaged fatigues, a black shirt, a black hat or head band, and some captured equipment to confuse Charlie, who is rather easily fooled in his watery haven. Virtually all of our boat ambushes are sprung at extremely close ranges. One night while we were listening and waiting to move inland, a VC walked up to the boat and squatted down into the muzzle of a shotgun. We keep plenty of grenades handy on our load bearing equipment and in the boat; all the guys have 50-round magazines filled with tracers for the initial impact - we don't stick around very long after the first magazine."

Toschik explained that even though the Rangers carried a shotgun and an M79 in each boat, they seldom used the grenade launchers: "The Nipa is nearly always too close and thick. We carry Claymore Mines rigged on long stakes but, in many cases, contact is made before we have a chance to put them out."

The Rangers checked load bearing equipment, weapons, Claymore mines, radios and boats before departing on Aquabush missions. "When departing for a mission, we usually follow in the wake of patrol boats or whatever crafts the Navy has going our way. Actually, we don't really need the noise screen because these engines can cut back to a troll speed with less noise than a motorized sampan. Charlie listens for the big boats and makes his crossings as they pass around a bend; we have had a few early evening contacts, on our way to a night location, by following about 500 meters behind big boats," Toschik related.

He explained that the Navy had long known many of Charlie's favorite crossing sites and often received good targets from agent reports of enemy activity along the river. Third Brigade, 9th Infantry Division had patternized NVA infiltration routes which included water paths as well as numerous fords and shuttle points. Also, when airmobile units witnessed Charlie's disappearing act during day sweeps, the small Navy/Ranger task force reacted by slipping back into the area after dark and after Charlie crawled from his crawfish hole.

Walker listened intently as the Ranger Lieutenant explained the actual ambush technique: "The ATL (Assistant Team Leader) sets-up his boat in a supporting position where the stream or canal junctions with the river. The TL (Team Leader) has his pilot slowly back his Whaler up the tributary - never more than 50 meters. That flat bottom boat sounds just like a sampan as the water laps at its hull in the darkness. Once in position, and after a short listening period, the Rangers wade inland about 30 meters and set-up. As movement is detected, the old heart rate accelerates. You would be surprised how freely and boldly the enemy moves in that mud and Nipa after dark - flash lights, whistles, shouts. . .

"The TL initiates the ambush when shadowed figures move up to his position - many times talking or signaling to him. The center Ranger tosses grenades and saves his weapon to cover the hasty movement back to the boat where the machine gunner is firing in support. Once the Rangers tumble into the idling boat, which the pilot starts at the sound of the first shot, the machine gunner shifts to the target. He then signals the support boat to open fire on the tracer impact area.

"The pilot keeps the boat in position against the tide and current by holding onto Nipa branches until his machine gunner opens fire. Then it takes a skilled pilot to steer and throttle a low draft boat into a pick-up position. With all aboard, little time is lost in making a speedy get-away to open water." Walker thought about the Aquabush and mentally evaluated his personnel and their ability to perform this type of mission. His people were good and they had experience, but he would have to devote initial training time to refining extraction techniques.

Toschik broke his thought: "You will have to evaluate tide data. We learned that lesson the hard way; getting stuck in Charlie country can be a nerve-racking experience. Also, you'll want to be aware of moon position - to take advantage of bank shadows.

"The team leader can call for gunship, artillery, or gunboat support with his PRC-77; we will have your support boat radio monitor headquarters’ frequency at all times. Prior to each mission, the team leader coordinates directly with artillery, naval gun ships, naval gunboats, and with any units, such as SEALs or Riverine Forces, operating on the river the night of his operation."

"To avoid setting a pattern, we make full use of the hundreds of miles of connecting waterways accessible to us, and we make all reconnaissance by air - never by boat! We never ambush the same location! We use Ranger teams which alternate their nights between ambushing and drying out from the previous sleepless night spent in mud and water.

"Occasionally, we react to a Navy contact as an assault element or blocking force. Also, we have had some luck reacting to radar sightings of sampans crossing the river. We like to leave a sniper on the ATL's boat to scan the opposite bank for easy targets on foot or in sampan. A little light reflection off the water considerably increases a starlight scope capability. The sniper can fire at will; sound direction is not well detected over water."

"The best way to break you into our operation is to show you. I will take Team 17 out tonight and give Sergeant Bryant a rest. He has a knack for this type of operation and has been very successful with it. It takes a team leader with steady nerves to execute the ambush in a timely way and not be caught in a compromising situation. As you will see, this is a risky mission; however, surprise and firepower are our equalizers. You will have to be my machine gunner. The Whaler will carry only five and retain minimum safe power. Don't worry, we'll check you out, and Chief Slater, who helped pioneer our techniques, will pilot and give you assistance if you need it."

After chow, Walker joined the little task force as it checked weapons, motors, radios and equipment. With everything ready, it headed north in the vanishing wake of an Assault Support Patrol boat escorting two Tango boats of Vietnamese Marines. Lieutenant Walker tried to visualize the target, previously briefed as one of several canals in an area of numerous, recent DUFFLEBAG activations. Brigade Operations radio reported that the radar sight at Thu Thua Canal junction reported a sampan crossing into the Eagles Beak from the Plain of Reeds-right on target. The two small craft quickly pulled along-side the Tangos and the pilots prepared to slip into the bank shadows.

The target canal identified and the support boat positioned, Toschik's Whaler sleekly glided under the low hanging Nipa branches. The three Rangers gingerly slid into the water and moved into the pitch stillness of the Nipa grove. Soon, only the slapping of the walking fish could be detected around the Ranger position. Dim lights appeared and slowly moved to- ward the blackened bushwhackers. The radios suddenly came to life.

"17, this is Sword Fish, over."

"Fish, this is 17, over"

"This is Fish, I have a sampan, about thirty meters out, moving in my direction toward 17-ALFA's position."

"This is 17; hold off, I have three lights converging on my position. Standby to blow and make it, wait."

"17 ALPHA, 17, are you monitoring, over?"

"17 ALPHA, roger, over."

Suddenly the blank void of the night became a psychedelic happening as the three Rangers opened fire and took the opportunity to hurriedly splash back to their impatiently waiting cohorts. After clearing the canal, Lieutenant Toschik directed fire and adjusted illumination and HE while awaiting the Navy gun ships which were previously alerted by his ATL.

He remarked to his new friend, "Well Lieutenant Walker, you did a good job shooting up that sampan. Now that you have had a first hand look, what do you think of our Aquabush?"

"A little hairy but it is hard to complain about success," was the reply. 

The following incident happened sometime 1970 east of Tan An Vietnam.  It involved one ambush team from Echo company 75th Infantry (Airborne Rangers) of the 3rd Brigade 9th Infantry Division and a couple of small navy boats from the Mobile Riverine Force assigned to Tan An along with their navy drivers.  To best of recollection each vessel was about 18 feet long, had twin outboard engines and a machine gun turret in middle of each boat.

We boarded the boats in Tan An and headed down river east of Tan An for several miles in broad daylight.  After an uneventful ride of several miles the navy dropped us off on the river bank next to a hooch that had a clear beach where we could climb off without difficulty.  I say this as opposed to being dropped off of PBRs in the nippa bushes and mud which was a difficult exercise and it could take one or two guys just to assist another person back onto a boat. 

After disembarking the navy boats left us and returned to Tan An.  Chuck Watson our team leader immediately called in a marker round to verify our location.  Also with us on this night was Lt. Gulick, our platoon lieutenant. We waited on the river bank until dark then moved out across a dry rice paddy eventually getting to our ambush location where we set up in typical fashion.  As it turned out it was an uneventful evening and in the morning we moved back to the same location where the navy boats had dropped us off.

We ended up spending most of the day on the river bank waiting for the navy boats to return.  I have no idea why it took them all day to return but the day ended up to be one of pleasure for us.  We spent the day relaxing on the river bank and taking photos of each other.  We also kept cool by swimming in the river most of the day just waiting for our ride to return.

Eventually at dusk the boats showed up and off we headed back to Tan An.  It got pitch dark right away and navigation became difficult.  The first boat turned on a strobe light for the second boat to follow.  To this day the wisdom of the first boat displaying a strobe light for the second boat to follow has bothered me for at the time I remember thinking how fortunate I was to be in the second boat.     I was also wondering how the driver of the first boat could tell where to go and then realized he was following the silhouette of the tree line on both sides of the river.  Between the trees on either side of the river was a beautiful sky full of bright stars or it was this path of stars we were following back to base.

Suddenly the strobe light went out.  Immediately the navy driver slowed our boat down and with the decrease in rpms the engine noise became lower and we could hear the guys in the first boat yelling excitedly but we couldn’t see anything.  Suddenly we hit a rice paddy dike head on just as the boat ahead of us had but at a much reduced speed.  The first boat had hit the dike at full speed and went over the dike stopping flat against a second dike.  The boat was literally wedged in between two dikes.  Fortunately no one had been hurt but they were sure shook up.   As it turned out there was no tree line to follow where they hit the dike because the rice paddy came right down to the river’s edge and the two dikes separated the river from the paddy.  As a result the driver drove into it head on.

So there we were, everyone standing around assessing the situation.  I was standing on the second dike to one side of the boat which was wedged in.  Another guy, a new kid we had on our team who was a ---k up and became nicknamed Daffy Duck was standing immediately in front of the wedged boat on the same dike as I.  When I looked over towards Daffy I saw him throw something at me.  It turned out to be a live smoke grenade which hit me on my leg and bounced on the ground resting at my feet.  This stupid act of his immediately pissed me off so I picked it up and threw it back at him with the intention of it burning him good.  The grenade hit him in the neck, bouncing off and into the wedged boat.  Of course the wedged boat was full of nothing but spilled gasoline and tons of ammunition scattered about including but not limited to light antitank weapons, hand grenades, M60 machine gun belts, phosphorous grenades, claymore mines etc.  Remember we were still shaking off the cobwebs of the accident when this occurred.  Well gasoline, ammunition and hot smoke grenades don’t mix and so the fireworks began.  All of us immediately ran for cover behind the dikes and watched the fireworks for some time.  It was quite a show lasting a long time and of course it goes without saying that the boat was not just a total loss but there was nothing left of it by the time it was over. I thought I was going to LBJ for the incident but nothing ever came of it.  Wasn’t even reprimanded or even questioned for that matter.  It was just another day at the office.

Eventually we got a ride out by chopper back to Tan An for a warm meal and shower.

On 30 April, while serving as Team Leader on an overnight ambush operation assisted by U.S. Navy Patrol Boats, Bryan positioned a three man element of the team about 75 meters from the shore, leaving the remaining members in the boat. Spotting approximately five enemy soldiers 200 meters from his location, Sgt Bryan immediately exposed himself to initiate contact with the enemy, eliminating one instantly. While leading his men through the intense hostile fire he heard someone whistle. Again spotting another enemy soldier twenty meters from his position, he exposed himself to hurl a grenade at the insurgent, eliminating him. He then directed his team back to the boat. Upon reaching the craft, two enemy sampans were observed on the river coming toward them. As the insurgents initiated contact, Sergeant Bryan once again exposed himself to the enemy fusillade to direct the fire of his team.

The four enemy personnel aboard the sampans were eliminated. Later, while sweeping the contact area, the team again received intense fire from an enemy soldier concealed in the nipa palm within ten meters of the ranger team. Reacting instantly to the critical danger, Sergeant Bryan charged forward and eliminated the insurgent at point blank range with rifle fire. The team was extracted without further incident.

11 June 1970 While his element was proceeding along a river bank, Sergeant Bryan observed an enemy soldier to his front. The enemy attempted to react, but Sgt Bryan immediately eliminated him. As the team moved further along, Sgt Bryan observed two more enemy soldiers on the opposite shore. Without regard for his personal safety, he immediately moved to an exposed position and eliminated one while another team member fatally wounded the other. Shortly thereafter, the team encountered three more enemy soldiers about fifteen meters to their front. Sgt Bryan and other team members immediately rushed the enemy, eliminating them before they could fire back. When a bobby trap detonated, causing several members of the team to receive fragmentation wounds, Sergeant Bryan, without hesitation, applied first aid, then directed a helicopter to pick up the wounded. Sergeant Bryan's actions were in keeping with the highest traditions of the military service and reflect great credit upon himself, his unit and the United States Army. Sergeant Bryan continued to lead his Ranger Team 1-7 in the warrior tradition, leading by example, encouraging and inspiring his fellow rangers to give 100% and then some.

On 13 July 1970, just 24 days away from Robert's departure from Vietnam, he was killed in action by enemy ground fire, while conducting a visual reconnaissance from a light observation helicopter preparing for yet another mission.

On 11 August 1970 1st Lieutenant Mark Toschik was killed in action in Dinh Tuong Province in the Republic of South Vietnam and was posthumously awarded the Silver Star Medal for gallantry in action as well as the National Order of Vietnam, Fifth Class. The circumstances of the action leading to these awards are as follows: Lt. Toschik had made an aerial reconnaissance by helicopter early in the day to determine night ambush positions. He was inserting one of his teams just before dark and was flying in the insertion helicopter, while his platoon sergeant flew in another cover helicopter.

Lt. Toschik had inserted his team which had moved out quickly to avoid detection. As the helicopter lifted off, it came under point blank fire from the rear. The action was quick and fierce. Lt. Toschik was the only one on the ground or in either helicopter who saw the enemy. He must have seen the muzzle flashes and immediately returned fire. No one knows when he was hit, but because the contact was brief and the rescue swift, he must have been hit with the initial burst. Lt. Toschik fought back savagely with all his resources. He expended his 30 round magazine and 20 round magazines of two additional M-16 rifles in the helicopter. He fired all the rounds of his 9mm pistol and to attest to the relative closeness of the encounter, he threw the empty pistol at them. He then ripped the .38 caliber pistol from the copilots shoulder holster and emptied it before the helicopter hit the around. It is difficult to imagine how quickly this all took place. Lt. Toschik's helicopter had hardly touched down and lifted off when it was brought down, having traveled less than the length of a football field, in a crescent arc. The support helicopter flying in the same arc pattern landed swiftly alongside the downed craft. Upon impact, Lt. Toschik, who was not wearing a seatbelt, dismounted and unstrapped the two wounded pilots and pulled them to safety. He then moved around the far side of the downed helicopter searching for other crew members. He could go no farther and collapsed on the spot where his platoon sergeant found his body.

After Vietnam

By Roy Barley

     When I left RVN on the 1st of October 1968 my thoughts were bittersweet.  I had completed my obligation to my country and would soon be a civilian again.  I had a fiancée that I was looking forward to seeing again and holding her close. But, I thought of the men I was leaving behind and vowed to stay in touch. I honestly thought I would.  I also just wanted to settle down and catch up on two years of my life that seemed lost.  I also thought that many returning veterans felt as I did and that they also wanted to forget that past year of hell.  I remember wanting to meet some of the hippy bastards that were spitting on uniforms and looked forward to that confrontation at the Port of Authority station in New York.  Remembering how much it hurt to see those bastards waving the flag of the Viet Cong in Life Magazine at the 1968 Democratic National Convention in Chicago. I really wanted to extract a price from those assholes.  That was not to happen as my folks drove from Cornwall, NY to pick me up at Ft. Dix, NJ over my protestations.

            As the years passed, thoughts of RVN never faded from my mind.  The sheer terror of  being ambushed; the stress of being out in Indian Territory with just 4 other men; the life altering effects of combat and the memory of guys who died fighting for each other.  I would get very angry around anniversary dates and not really know why.  I had stayed in contact with my Platoon Sgt, Greg Nizialek, who lived in Buffalo, NY.  I ended up graduating from College in Buffalo and settling down.  It was there that a very strange set of circumstances occurred that would send me back to Viet Nam in March of 1996.

            Greg, who remained in the National Guard, and I would talk on occasion about what he heard from whom and what happened to guys from the unit.  One time he and his lovely wife Shirley came over for dinner and he brought a ton of photographs and we discussed the good times and bad.  He was particularly concerned about what Ken Lancasters mother knew and what the Army told her.  Ken was a member of our unit who had been attending the MACV Recondo School at Nha Trang when he fell from the skid of a helicopter at over a 1,000 foot altitude.  He was listed as MIA but all of the team members felt that he had been killed instantly.  Our discussion centered on what his Mother knew or did not know.  We had this discussion a number of times over the years and I had gotten involved with the formation of a VVA Chapter in Springville, NY.  I put it into the back of my mind to try to contact her but it was not my number 1 item to do on my list. 

            In, I believe it was 1986 or maybe 1987, I went to the VVA National Convention in Washington, DC on behalf of our chapter.  I also wanted to see the wall and get some etchings off the wall of men I knew.  While there I was able to make a contact with one of the officers of the MIA/POW league of families and she told me she would check their data base to see if Mrs. Lancaster was listed.  The next day she told me that she was and I was to write a letter to her, place it in a stamped, non-sealed  envelope.  Then send the unsealed letter to their attention and they would forward it on.  A few days after arriving home I did so.  In a short time I received a phone call from Mrs. Lancaster that went on for hours.  In short, I promised her that I would try to find out information on Kenny if I ever went back to RVN.  I knew that was a long shot but maybe someday. 

            As the VVA Chapter President I was amazed at the number of different magazines and newsletters that we received.  I made an effort to go thru each one in search of anything that would lead me to former comrades.  That need to reconnect was burning up inside me until the day I saw an ad in one of the newsletters that call for former LRRP/LRP/Rangers to join an organization called the 75th Ranger Regiment Inc.  I had heard that our LRP Company had become a Ranger unit shortly after I left but I never had any proof.  The ad had been placed by Al Bartz of Avon, NY in early 1989.  I immediately called his phone number and spoke to a guy who was as excited to hear from someone he never knew as I was to find a kindred spirit.   He told me about the organization that he placed the ad for and spoke of their first reunion the year before in Georgia..  He let me know that the 9th Div had some fellows there and had the name of the unit director, Mike Patrick.  I immediately sent out as much information about my service in the company along with the application and dues.  A few weeks latter I got my membership card in the mail.  Wow, what a feeling that I maybe able to reconnect with old friends thru this organization.  Al Bartz died a few months latter but I was very thankful that he had placed that ad. 

            During 1989 and 1990 I tried to find as many members of the unit that I could but success was fair.  I wanted to attend the 1990 Reunion in Colorado but I just was not ready for that yet.  I did manage to locate Tony Hanlon in PA and had a great meeting with him.  My request for a list of members of the unit was knocked down by the President of the Association, Bob Gilbert.  I knew that the only way we could start to locate people would be to get copies of orders along with the list maintained by the Association.  In early 1992 I received phone calls from Rick Ehrler, Ralph Harter and Bruce Sartwell about the coming reunion at Ft Benning.  I had mixed emotions about going to that reunion; what nightmares might surface; did I really want to open that chapter of my life again?  After all I had been very successful in life, graduate degree; well respected in my job; head of two separate veterans organizations; Vice President of the Niagara Frontier VietNam Veterans Leadership Council; elected to the local school board and elected to the position of Vice President of the Board.  Yet it was very difficult to take that first step.  After prodding from the three above I made a commitment to go.  I had been in contact with Greg Nizalek and he also was going.  It was time to take that first step.

            As the date for the reunion grew closer my anxiety grew more intense.  My wife encouraged me to make the trip.  I kept finding excuses not to go, but when the tickets arrived I knew that I had to go.  The night before the trip I could not sleep.  Memories of Viet Nam  were swirling in my head   Thoughts of guys that were killed while I was there came flooding into my mind.  I also knew that if they were still alive they would make the trip.  It occurred to me that all I had accomplished in life I did with their memory pushing me on.  I caught the plane to Atlanta and then a commuter plane to Columbus.  On the small commuter plane I sat next to a young lady who was traveling to see her fiancée who was completing Ranger school.  When our small plane caught the wake of a much larger plane and dropped a few hundred feet like a stone she grabbed my arm with a grip that I had no idea such a small lady could produce.  All I could do was chuckle; it was like a thrill ride.  Her comments about the saneness of all Rangers were not very nice. 

            Greeting me at the airport were Ralph Harter and Rick Ehrler, a couple of the guys I remembered well.  It was an incredible feeling to be reunited with those guys, a bit older than I remembered, but still good.  We sat and talked for a while waiting for Bruce Sartwell to show up.  I had heard that Bruce lost all of his Vietnam photos, beret and other memorabilia in a nasty divorce, so I had brought from my home a brand new, made in RVN, beret.  I had two made after I lost my first one and never had to wear the second one, so I figured that Bruce needed it more than I did.  Bruce arrived and did not look much older than he did in RVN.  The talk and excitement was incredible and I felt more relaxed than anytime since I left RVN.  We pilled into Ralph’s car and headed to the Columbus Hilton, the site of the reunion.  We checked in and they had lost my reservation but Rick said I could room with him until they had a room for me the next day. We put our gear away and decided to meet for a drink and to talk about old times.

            Bruce did not drink and Rick, Ralph and I had very little, but we all came to the conclusion that we had to get the roster of our company in order to find old friends.  Bruce volunteered to run for unit director and thus the die was cast.  Our old first shirt, Roy Nelson was running for President of the organization and we would contact him latter.  Latter that night we all got together to go to dinner and Ralph brought along his significant other, Sylvia.  How Ralph hooked up with this very beautiful southern belle was the question of the evening.  After we headed back to our rooms Rick and I talked late into the night.  Damn, it was good to be with old friends again.  While we had not seen each other in over 24 years it seemed like only yesterday.  Hopefully others would feel the same way when we would have our first company wide reunion.

            Ralph knocked hard on the door and was ready for breakfast at O’Dark thirty and I had just gotten up.  We were anxious to get over to Fort Benning and check out the post and some of the sites around there.  It was the 50th Anniversary of the Rangers and there was plenty to do. We had a great time going all over the post and meeting some modern day Rangers.  We also viewed where the Ranger Memorial was going to be built.  The ground breaking was scheduled for the next afternoon with the Secretary of the Army in attendance.  Then we found “Ranger Joes”, a store that had all kinds of military surplus.  We found all sorts of goodies there and Ralph really made a haul as did Bruce.  We all bought t-shirts and had our unit designation printed on the back for the parade the next day.  We all agreed to walk and not march, as our marching days were over.  We headed back to the hotel for lunch and laughter filled the car, with all taking hits on each other. 

            After a lunch we went to the hospitality room and met up with some others and a number of WW II Rangers.  We hooked up with Mike Patrick, Top, Woodrow, Nizalek and agreed that we would attend the business meeting the next day and meet for lunch to determine how to proceed to find others.  But, on that day the ranges were open for us old farts to partake of some of the new firepower these guys had.  We all headed to Ralph’s car and went back to Ft Benning to do some good old stress relief by burning off as much ammo as we could.  The young Rangers were at each station on the firing line.  I sighted a M-60 that was down located in a trench line that had all sorts of nice support and those old man sized silhouettes down range.  Rick really wanted to feel the kick of the 60 again and He and I got in line to fire off.  Rick is blind and he just wanted to burn off a few rounds for the feel.  I took his cane as we got closer and held it behind my back.  I guided him with hand pressure and whispers as he got behind the gun.  It was then that I mentioned to the young ranger that Rick was blind and pulled his cane out.  The young Ranger asked how he would hit the target and I gave him the cane and instructed him to go down range and tap on the target.  While Rick and I got a kick out of his response as he looked at us like he thought we were not kidding.  Rick had the weapon shouldered and ready to rock and roll.  I told Rick I’d adjust his fire from where I was but, I’m not kidding, he hit the target with the first burst.  Incredible, was it luck or fate? The young Ranger could not believe it and the guys on the line gave a cheer out for Rick  We laughed all the way out of the trench and back to the car.  That was it for target practice that day as we did not want to press our luck.   The rest of that day we spent hitting Ranger Joe’s again and then just talking about all the activity to happen the next day. 

            First thing up on Saturday was a business meeting and Roy Nelson was running for President of the Association.  We had all agreed earlier that Bruce Sartwell would nominate Roy.  The business meeting went well and Roy Nelson was elected President of the 75th Ranger Regiment Association Inc.  The first of three unit members to serve in this office.  Roy invited the members of the unit to lunch and to discuss what we could do to affect a reunion of the company.  We discussed many different ideas and ways that we could get a reunion started.  Bruce Sartwell was a private detective and had sources; Rick Ehrler had various search devices in his computer and was a computer genius, having learned computer programming, one had access to a national data base of social security numbers.  The individual doing that search did it at his own peril of getting into serious trouble at his job and for that reason his name has never been revealed.  The vast majority of members were located that way.  We knew that we would need to locate old orders that had the social security numbers on them.  As we went around the table we found that all of us had a talent that could help us find others.  We went thru the unit roster like it was a treasure map finding new and old addresses.  That document would be the foundation from which we built our old unit up again.  A decision was made to go full throttle and hold the 1st reunion in Baltimore, MD.  Part of that decision was due to the closeness of the Viet Nam Memorial, something that all wanted to visit. 

            The year seemed to flyby.  We had done well in locating many of the guys and contacting them by phone to set up this reunion.  Bruce Sartwell put his money where his mouth was and contracted for a hotel and meeting room by putting it all on a credit card.  He really got nervous towards the actual date in hoping that he would not lose money.  During those phone calls I assured him that this was to be a success and I thought better you than me pal.  Somehow I knew that we would be successful.   It was exciting as the days grew closer to the day of the reunion.  The names of old friends came in as a promise to attend the reunion.  Besides finding guys we had been gifted with some items that could be sold to raise a unit fund and get our selves ready for the next reunion.  A friend of Ralph bought a gross of coffee cups and mugs with our unit scrolls on them.  We sold them to fund future newsletters and reunions.  It was incredible the excitement of this 1 year mission to reunite was happening.   Still the anxiety of “are we opening a can of worms” was there.  Would it be a success or not?

As the day of the first reunion drew close Bruce Sartwell came up with a brilliant idea.  When we visit the Wall we should leave a plaque there listing our fallen comrades and the fact that they were not forgotten.  It was decided that we should have two so that one could travel to all the reunions thereafter if we were to still have them.   We hoped it would become a tradition that would carry on that special bond that we had with each other.  I had a friend who had a trophy business and had been a marine in Viet Nam and would do them at cost.  Thus with the names we had we created two plaques: One for the wall and one to continue the spirit of our bonds.

            I do not remember the trip down to Baltimore but I do remember the emotions running deep.  We had taken our motor home down to Baltimore and I just do not remember the trip.  When we arrived I remember checking in at the desk and seeing some old familiar faces.  How could these guys look so old? I hadn’t aged a day in my mind.  It was a shock to see so many faces that played such an important time in my life.  Shared experiences came rushing at us like flood waters and engulfed us with such joy and sorrow that it was difficult to even breath.  We had such deep bonds that no one could describe or understand unless they had been there.  It was the start of a great reunion.

            I remember seeing guys for the first time in 30 years and guys approaching the hospitality room with hesitation in their eyes.  Wondering what kind of a welcome they would get, wondering if any demons from that war would resurface. And to see those concerns melt with smiles and laughter.  Damn they were some fine men, and still are. We went to the inner harbor of Baltimore that had been rebuilt and was now prime real estate.  Had a great time there and found that the sense of humor was alive and well.  While touring the USS Constitution I was surprise to find out that the cannons were not real and made out of foam.  I pointed it out to the wife of one of my closest friends.  A couple of real cannons were at the entrance and her husband had tried to lift one.  When his wife lifted one in the ship with one hand he was dumbfounded.  Naturally this brought up who wore the pants in that family.  Funny incidents that happened in Viet Nam came up from time to time and it was great to find out what other guys thoughts on those incidents were.  No one wanted to tell war stories and the time was one of both elation and sadness.    

            All good times have to end sooner or later as it was with the reunion.  We had a great dinner dance the night before we were to leave.  Our last act would be to visit the Wall in DC.  We had a business meeting on Saturday morning and it was decided we would meet in Las Vegas in two years.  A plea was made for all to submit orders that had the Social Security numbers on them so we could continue to find members.

            We caravanned to the wall led by Mike Kentes.  Mike worked there and was very familiar with the area.  We arrived at the wall and set the plaque.  Guys were checking for names and it was a time we did not want to end.  We managed to get the park police to allow us on the grass area for photos with the wall in the background.  As we prepared to leave, the guys who worked so hard on getting it going (Barley, Harter, Sartwell, Ehler, Nizalek, Nelson,) agreed that it was a success.  Mission accomplished.  What was started back in 1992 has continued to grow and prosper with each reunion.  A great feeling.

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