The Bonding of Warriors
A Unit History
The Early Years (1966-1967)
Ch 5
by Winslow "Rick" Stetson
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 Infantry 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.