“Top Soldier” Roy Nelson

THE FINAL SALUTE
By Duane L. Alire, former E50/E75 Unit Director

E Company has lost a former first sergeant, Roy Nelson, a true LRRP leader who was highly thought of by all who served with him. I have asked a couple of former E Company unit directors, Rick Stetson and Clancy Matsuda, if I could use their words to assist in a final salute to Roy. They will be followed by another E Company LRRP, Howard Munn, who remembers serving as ATL on a patrol led by Roy in 1967. Munn says, “He will never forget the mission”.

Finally, Roy’s own words in “Recollections of a LRP First Sergeant,” an article he wrote some years ago that gives the reader a good sense of his contributions to E Company.

I arrived in Vietnam in January 1968 after Roy had left the unit but got to know him at reunions in the years following and was always impressed by how the men looked up to him. He formed a number of life-long friendships with some of the men he led, like his old fishing buddy, Joe Eachus, and after learning of his death, Rangers have expressed how much Top will be missed and what a professional leader he was. Roy Nelson will always be remembered as one of those men who “led the way”.

A Fallen Warrior
By Rick Stetson, E Company Operations Officer, Vietnam 1967

It is with great sadness that I inform members of E Company that our former first sergeant, friend and dedicated warrior, Roy Nelson, died on October 20, 2018. A Celebration of Life was held in Arlington, Virginia on Monday, December 17th. Roy was buried beside his devoted wife, Irmgard Edith Nelson, in the Crownsville Veterans Cemetery, Crownsville, Maryland.

Those of us who served with Roy in 1967 will never forget his professional leadership. He was a first sergeant who refused to sit behind a desk drinking coffee and doing paperwork. Instead, Roy wanted to be out on patrols with “his men” so he could observe how they operated under stressful conditions. If Roy was in charge of your patrol, you had a true leader who knew what he was doing. He led by example, never ranting or shouting and always demonstrating a quiet determination. If he told you something, you could guarantee it was true. Those who knew him will never forget Roy Nelson.

In all my Army experience I never met a better first sergeant. He was a brave and dedicated soldier. I feel fortunate he was in our unit and I can tell you he served his country well.

A couple of years ago when Duane “Poncho” Alire was our unit director, he helped coordinate a mini-reunion to honor Roy and had our former first sergeant, or Top, step up front to present specially made challenge coins to the attendees commemorating the reunion. We will always be thankful for the manner in which Poncho honored Roy and included him in the ceremony. It was a moving occasion for Roy and for all of us in attendance. You could see the emotion in Roy’s eyes as he presented the challenge coins to his former soldiers and returned their salutes. Many of us choked up just to witness the event. It was obvious that after all the years since Nam, Roy still meant so much to the men. He will not be forgotten.

LRRPs Honor Roy D. Nelson
By Clancy Matsuda, former E50 LRRP Company Commander, Vietnam 1967-1968

On the occasion of the E50/E75 tribute to Top Nelson in Baltimore, MD on April 26, 2014, Clancy wrote a letter to Top Nelson which was read at the event. In his letter Clancy wrote, in part:

“We celebrate and salute you for your service to our Nation and legacy to our unit. You planted seeds in our warriors that flourished into mission accomplishments.  You showed them how to face danger with courage and honor.  You knew the right things to do and taught them how to achieve the important things.  Our soldiers would follow you in to the deepest valleys of tough times.  We became a ‘band of brothers” in the Vietnam War.’ Top Nelson, I thank you for teaching us how to take care of each other.”

You lived a prominent life, Roy. Thank you for the wonderful camaraderie we share with you.
God bless you,
Clancy
C. G. Matsuda Colonel, U. S. Army (Retired)

Top Remembered
By Howard Munn, E Company LRRP, Vietnam 1967

It was August of ’67, the week of the 20th.  Evidently the fixed wing “sniffer” had detected an increase in heat coming off the earth in this small area.  It was in the Long Thanh province about 15 miles from Bearcat.  I did not go on many missions because I was running part of our school preparing cadets for MACV RECONDO School.  I guess most of our teams were occupied because I was selected to be the assistant patrol leader.  As you know, this put me at the rear of the team as we moved through the jungle in search of what might be there. If my memory serves me, I believe two of the team members were Tom Kloack and Jerry Fairweather.  I don’t recall the other two.

Sgt. Nelson had received the approximate location on his map and without any problem directed us right into the edge of it.  For me it was very frightful. We had crossed narrow paths that showed recent usage and then we were looking at men engaged in conversation.  We could hear others working at cutting or chopping trees.  It was obvious this was an occupied base camp of some size.  I was glad when Sgt. Nelson indicated we had seen enough and were leaving because I was afraid I was going to puke my guts out.  Then as we crossed a path, everyone in front of me stopped and I was left in the middle of the path. Panic was setting in and for the first time in my life I literally felt the hair on my neck and arms stand on end.  I could see for some distance in both directions and out of fright, I pushed Fairweather (I think it was him) so hard that the collisions of the other team members was like dominoes, except nobody fell down.  Probably why I wasn’t selected for any more missions.

Maybe Charlie never knew we were there.  I expected to hear or see them behind us at any moment.  Sgt. Nelson stopped many times and looked each of us in the eye and it gave us confidence that we would reach the LZ we all longed for, especially me.  We went through some swamp areas and over a couple of inclines but ended up right where we were supposed to be.  I am not sure August was the monsoon season, but it was raining so hard my floppy hat wasn’t keeping the rain out of my eyes.  This may have been the mission where the chopper pilot determined he had to set it back down in another LZ because of the weather.  Maybe Tom or Fairweather could remember.

I am totally convinced that without Sgt. Nelson’s skillful maneuvering and calm control of the situation, I might not be here today.  He said he knew where we were and where we were going and damn if he didn’t.

Back at camp he showed the officers in the debriefing where the base camp was and when they doubted him he told them he knew where he was at the time and he would bet his stripes on it.  They were some surprised when they asked him how many stripes would that be and he told them.  I think the results of that mission and his handling of the team and the debriefing afterwards brought recognition and respect for our outfit to a much higher level than previously.

In retrospect, I wish I had spent more time with him after ‘Nam.  I saw him at the Houston reunion and we went out to eat a couple of times, but it is my loss that we did not spend more time together.

War Story: Recollections Of A LRP First Sergeant
By Roy D. Nelson

It has been almost 30 years since I first arrived in Vietnam in 1966 as the Operations

NCO of the 9th Division cavalry squadron. I have since come to realize that memories fade and history of units are diminished forever by the failure to record the stories of first hand experiences. It is for this reason that I have written the following. May it encourage others to do so also.

I joined the 9th Infantry Division Long Range Patrol (LRP) at Camp Bear Cat in March 1967. I had recently had a personal conflict with my Squadron Commander and was summarily reassigned to the LRP as a First Sergeant. The unit had been attached to the Delta Troop of the Squadron during its building and training phase. It was less than a platoon in strength and lacked the weapons, radios, compasses and other equipment necessary to carry out patrols. Since there was no TOE (Table of Organizational Equipment) for this unit, it was difficult to acquire the basic equipment, but somehow we prevailed.

In the interim we trained, got physically fit, ran missions and searched for volunteers while we tried to develop confidence and veracity with the divisional operations staff. The process involved weeding out the unqualified and determining who had what it took to lead the patrols.

My intention as First Sergeant was to teach the same fundamentals taught by the MACV Recondo School at Nha Trang and to instill the basic instinct of survival in each and every LRRP who volunteered for the company. I’ve always subscribed to General George Patton’s philosophy, “You don’t fight to die for your country, you fight to make the other SOB die for his country.” For some reason it made a lot of sense to me. I strongly believed that you could do this job without getting decisively engaged with the enemy.

We formed five man recon teams, and sometimes went out with only four men in the Mekong Delta. By July 1967, we had formalized as the 9th Infantry Division Long Range Patrol (LRPD) and were assigned to Division Headquarters & Headquarters Company. We had grown to over 100 enlisted men and five officers. We had even constructed our own compound with semi-permanent wooden barracks along the perimeter wire near the 90th Replacement Company at Bear Cat.

As we became more proficient at what we did, I began to realize that the LRRPs were not necessarily the best persons or the finest soldiers. They were men who were just the best at what they did. They had to have patience and a good instinct for survival in the type of covert warfare we were involved in. They also had to have the ability to accept danger and hardship without succumbing to the stress that went along with it. They were good at what they did and they liked it. Some of our best LRRPs extended their tours, and not all of them made it home.

My recollections include working with the Australian Special Air Service (SAS) in Phouc Tuy Province. I remember we had a team in contact with a VC unit, and the team was trying to break contact to get to their extraction site. I was with the CP at Nui Dat with the 1st Australian Task Force when we got word to provide a reaction force for the team. The Hueys were ready to go when we arrived at the pad. I personally selected the LRRPs I wanted to go. When I turned around I saw two new men, who had just arrived in the unit that morning. They were aboard the Hueys, and trying to avoid my gaze. I knew then I had made a good choice during the selection process – they had the “right stuff” to be LRRPs.

The Australian SAS were hard drinking, hard fighting soldiers. Their methods of long range patrolling were different from ours. When they made contact with the enemy, they attacked with everything they had. They carried those heavy 7.62mm FN-SLRs (Self Loading Rifle). Their rationale was to make the enemy break contact by disrupting his ability to go on the offensive. If they ran low on ammo and grenades, they threw rocks or anything else that was handy. A lot of the SAS were veterans of fighting communist insurgencies in Malaya and other hot spots.

The U.S. Navy SEALs were another wild bunch. They operated in the Rung Sat Special Zone and were something else when it came to taking the war to the enemy. The Rung Sat was a series of salt water swamps choked with mangroves. The SEAL teams did not maintain radio contact while on patrol. They were a little crazy – maybe even demented – but they got the job done. They remained with the same team during their six-month tours of duty, and I believed this was a real boon to team integrity. They were highly skilled and well trained, and had the best equipment. I really like the Stoner Weapons System the SEALs used. It was deadly in close combat. We picked up a lot of our camouflage jungle fatigues from the SEALs, uniforms we couldn’t get from the Army. I didn’t envy their AO (Area of Operations) though – too much water. They were normally inserted and extracted by water, utilizing a number of river patrol craft such as the PBR, which were low-draft boats, water jet driven and very fast.

I remember returning once from a mission on board a Huey helicopter. My team had spent a day and a half avoiding VC units actively looking for us. We had managed to avoid firing even a single round, although enemy soldiers had been firing warning and signal shots throughout our AO. We spent the last night listening to VC movement all around us as they searched for us with flashlights. After all the anxiety and stress from being too long in close proximity to danger and death, the tension was broken on the return trip to Bear Cat when one my team mates leaned forward and took the tape off the face of my military issue wrist watch and yelled in my ear, “We’ll get back in time to watch Combat on the TV.” It was just another way of coping with what we endured on these missions. Part of my job was to observe the individual and team training of the unit and accompany the teams as an observer to critique the methods and results. Gradually we gained a good reputation with division. But it was difficult to overcome their natural animosity against elite units. We had to develop a “believability quotient” just to sell our results to the people at division G-2. Many times I had to listen to staff officers remarking at a debriefing that there were no VC in an area just patrolled by a LRRP team – it just being nothing but “LRRP Bullshit”. Gradually, our results were believed when a follow-up Arc Light strike or a ground unit sweep verified that the enemy was indeed there.

As we got better at what we did, we expanded our horizons. We operated with the US Navy SEALs in the Rung Sat Special Zone; we stirred up the Plain of Reeds; we scouted out the defoliated areas of War Zone D; and even invaded Toi San Island (VC Island) to cut the VC’s lines of communication.

I led the first LRP teams in to the Plain of Reeds and on to Toi San Island. These actions probably alerted the local VC of the small unit activity in their areas. One of my team leaders led a team on to “VC Island” during a night insertion. They had no sooner dismounted from the landing craft than the VC opened up with machine-gun fire and rocket-propelled grenades. The Navy crew ducked for cover and backed the landing craft away from the bank. The LRRPs on board returned fire using the mounted machine-guns and their individual weapons. I remember one LRRP burning the barrel up on a .30 caliber light machine gun at the bow position. Fortunately, no one was injured and the team was able to be safely extracted. This response to enemy fire was instinctive and not ordered by anyone. This is another example of these kinds of men.

In spite of all the mundane requirements of soldiering, we still found time to enjoy our free time. Remember, combat is 99% boredom and 1% pure panic. So we took full advantage of the breaks in mission and preparation. We had our cookouts, beer drinking, resting and ferocious “touch” football games. These games sometimes became more “tackle and get even” events than football contests. I was a young First Sergeant and participated in the games, taking my lumps and bruises without complaint. I can recall no instances of personal dislikes among the member of the unit. At least none were brought to my attention. We had the usual rabble-rousers and guardhouse lawyers in the Company. For the most part, we were just too worn down. I had gone from 180 pounds on my arrival in Vietnam to 150 pounds when I rotated out.

This unit eventually became Company E (LRP), 50th Infantry (Abn) on 20th December 1967, and later Company E (Rgr), 75th Infantry (Abn) on 1st February 1969. The unit suffered 26 KIA, including one MIA, during its tour of duty in combat.

So much for my initial misgivings as to the survivability as a LRRP. Apparently, the General Patton philosophy had some effect. There were no KIAs during my tenure as First Sergeant.

I had personally forecasted that a company reunion could probably be held in a phone booth rented from AT&T. I was wrong.

I remember some of the unit NCOs and those who came as privates and grew quickly to NCO rank. Soldiers such as Elbert Walden provided the early guidance and training that formed this group of men in to a cohesive results-oriented unit. Others were Sergeants Hilan Jones and Robert Hernandez, and a host of others long since not remembered, but never forgotten. The officers provided the buffer between us and the higher echelons. They kept the unit reputation intact and even built on it. Clancy Masuda, the commanding officer, and I were reunited at a company reunion in 1993. Every time I attend a reunion I come across someone who reinforces my fading memory.

I have met some of the wives and children of those young warriors who served themselves and their country so well. I will always be proud of them.

The following is by George L. Skypeck, soldier, poet and historian:

SOLDIERS
I was that which others did not want to be.
I went where others feared to go, and did what others failed to do.
I asked nothing from those who gave nothing, and reluctantly accepted the thought of eternal loneliness…should I fail.
I have seen the face of terror; felt the stinging cold of fear; and enjoyed the sweet taste of moments love.
I have cried, pained, and hoped…but most of all, I have lived times others would say were best forgotten.
At least someday I will be able to say that I was proud of what I was…a soldier.

The above poem explains how I feel about the LRRPs I had the honor and privilege of serving with during those days, which will never be forgotten. In the future, if I ever have to walk in harm’s way again, I hope I am with those “special men” of days gone by.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~