We were up early. Scratching, eating, and checking gear. It was obviously going to be another very hot day. We were not being hurried to move out. It seemed that there was a lot of radio communication at the Company CP. I had the impression that this operation was less than exact. Sort of specific but also reacting to current events and/or incoming intelligence.

It was late in the morning when we started out. The route of march was to be the same as we ended with the day before. Stay in the uninhabited corridor between the river on the east of us and the first ville areas to the west of the river. This was an area that was seven hundred to a thousand meters wide. Move north with safety and speed.

Third platoon, my unit, was assigned as the point platoon that morning. Before we moved out our Lieutenant gave the platoon its order of march and briefing. My squad was in last position for the platoon and I had tail-end Charlie for the squad. Directly behind me would be the Company CP group. For the benefit of the newer guys like myself who had not been in the Arizona Territory yet, the issues of safety in such a "hot" area were quickly mentioned. Then mentioned again by the squad leaders.

The area was well known for lots of booby traps, snipers, and company to battalion sized enemy troop masses. "Staying well spread out" was on the top of the list of "to-dos." Fifteen to twenty five meter gaps between Marines. Reduces the overall number of casualties if somebody hits a mine or booby trap. Reduces the chances that more than one Marine will be a surprised target of a sniper. Reduces the number of Marines that will be in the kill zone of an ambush at any given time.

We were moving from high ground to high ground but none were inhabited. And luckily none were occupied by transient NVA troops. Again it seemed as if we were in a hurry to get somewhere. From the brief looks that I had gotten at the squad leader's map I knew that we were in the northern section of the Arizona and would probably reach the northern edge where the rivers came together before the end of the day.

As the first small units moved across the open paddy to the next high ground there were moments of anxiety and fear as the men dashed from rice paddy dike to rice paddy dike. The closer they got to the far side the more tense it got. Everybody knew, including the ones that were out there making the first crossing, that if the enemy was there they would wait until the last second then try to kill or seriously maim all of these guys that were in the paddy.

The size of this initial unit was kept to a minimum. A fireteam was desirable. Most fireteams at the time were only two to four men. During periods of heavy combat, the Company was at less than full strength. This "period of heavy combat" was ALL of the time though so it seemed normal to be understrengthed. But the size had to be enough to cover the situation also. That is, the entire exercise was not done just to sacrifice a few to find out that the NVA was there but to both find out that they were there and where they were as well as to at least establish a toehold to get the rest of the troops across and destroy the enemy presence. So this may require more than a fireteam. Perhaps a squad which was 3 fireteams with a squad leader and radio man. Or a reinforced squad that would also have a machine gun team with it. That day both the lead fireteam and the lead squad of third platoon made that fearful trip across the paddies several times.

Upon arriving in the high ground on the far side of the paddy, a "beachhead" would be established and widened as the rest of the company moved across the paddy. Sometimes they would continue moving across in small groups or en masse depending on the terrain and potential exposure. Now this "island" had to be searched. The method used would depend on the size of the ground, the density of vegetation, and whether it was inhabited or not.

The decision on this day to avoid high ground that was lived on was based on the amount of additional time and danger encountered in searching these areas. Every hut had a bunker and every living area had multiple terrain areas modified by the inhabitants for living use. All of this had to be searched. Camouflaged stashes and booby traps were common. Just as common were frightened villagers or NVA posing as villagers who would leap for a hidden gun or explosive device as the searching Marines came close to finding the stash. They could do a lot of damage to the Marines before they were brought down.

The uninhabited islands also had to be searched but were somewhat easier. Movement and use of the high ground was noted. How worn were the trails and why? Was this piece of high ground on a route that was normally used in the daily life of the area and/or was it a significant militarily strategic piece? Were there signs of military use and how old were they? Fighting holes, tree positions, trenchlines, camouflaged or hidden "spider holes" where snipers popped up from, etc. And, of course, were there any NVA or VC there at the moment? Were they hidden and trying to remain so or were they prepared to fight?

Or, as very often happened, did we just quietly walk right up on them literally surprising the crap out of them and us? These face-to-face encounters generally occurred between the first one or two Marines in a column of a platoon or company sized movement that had moved quickly and quietly into an inhabited island from the "blind"-to-the-inhabitants' side. As the first Marines rounded the corner into the view of the ville they would suddenly find themselves in close quarters with equally surprised NVA troops.

As a Marine who has been in that position as well as witnessed several others in front of me in the same position, I am confident that I can accurately describe the circumstances. Those first one to five seconds of that meeting go into a time warp. Those seconds are slowed down to the point that they may last an hour or longer for the individuals involved.

About the first third of the elapsed time is spent while the vision brought in by your eyes is ping ponged through your brain cells as identification is sought simultaneously with the grip of fear beginning to put the squeeze on you. All voluntary movement and thoughts come to a halt as the involuntary reactions brought on by the fear that is beginning to come at you like a train start to take over. The shock of this sudden change to your status quo is still reverberating as the picture you see is continually being processed in your head.

The NVA troops that we encountered very seldom wore any recognizable uniform. There was no blazing red star or rank insignia on any particular item of clothing to clearly designate that the person was an NVA soldier. And there didn't seem to be any particular color or style of clothing in their military ensemble to differentiate it from similar items worn by civilians. Even a Vietnamese with a weapon in his hand was not absolute proof that it was the enemy. South Vietnamese soldiers, local militias, and even our own Kit Carson scouts were all Vietnamese who might have a weapon in their hand.

So in almost all cases, several other items were being processed together in your brain to tell you that you were face to face with a lethal enemy. The age, size, and stature of a male was the most obvious in Vietnam. If he was anywhere between 16 and 60, was not a deformed dwarf, was obviously better fed than any farmer, and was not wearing a recognizable uniform of South Vietnam or the Americans then he was 99.9% sure to be an NVA or VC. And even some of those who were wearing recognizable uniforms of our side were actually NVA or VC. We simply did not see anybody in the areas we operated in that fit that physical description except NVA or VC.

The second thing was how he was looking at you. In the instant that the eyes met, some "truth" was involuntarily transmitted. If they were NVA or VC, in that unguarded millisecond when the eyes met and where recognition took place, a ray of hatred may have slipped out. And then what mode did the eyes move into? Was he watching your eyes? Did he try to steal a glance to some point other than you?

This is generally all that you could process in the given time. General physical and the eyes. He, on the other hand, did not need much to positively identify you since you wore a uniform that went so well your bright, shiny round eyes. He was already ahead of you in that game of "Think Fast!" He was into step two while you were still trying to add up the values of the imprecise elements you were processing to decide who and what he was.

Now you have also moved into the second third of the elapsed time that began when you rounded the corner. That would be assessing the type and scope of the threat. You may or may not have arrived at a definitive answer for step 1, identification, yet but you knew that you had to move on if you were going to survive the worst case. Besides step 2 could help clarify step 1. But this step will be the most difficult to accomplish. Instinctively, you know that you must watch for what this person might do and the best way to do that is by staying locked into his eyes. But what else and who else is within your vision that you are picking up on and, more importantly, what is NOT in your field of vision that may require immediate identification and response?
You must look but know that he will see the movement of your eyes. What will he do when you move your eyes away? Time slows down even more.

The final third of the elapsed time is the formulation and initiation of an action. The first two steps of identification and threat assessment may or may not have been completed when this occurs. The brain begins to hear each tick of the incredibly slow clock as it finally comes. An instinctive struggle begins as it recognizes an action is required for survival and attempts to come up with it. Time may not only return to normal at an instant, it may also go to "fast forward" depending on the action. Fast and furious with violent death very close. For survivors, the incredible rush of fear and adrenaline followed by the exhilaration of being alive after the event becomes one of Life's most notable moments.

The day was beginning to get very hot. As we slowed and stopped at the edge of each rice paddy and upon entrance to each high ground on the other side, canteens were coming out of their canvas holders to rehydrate us. But the humidity was at the level that the water was coming out of us in sweat at almost the same rate that it was going in. Sweat bands were being fashioned from anything available. Shirts, socks, underwear, M-16 ammo bandoliers, etc. We began taking breaks before leaving each high ground.

We had continued our northerly course all morning. Shortly after midday, I heard that we would be turning left soon. Due west. The terrain was giving clues that we were nearing the junction of rivers at the northern end of the Arizona. We were no longer going from high ground "islands" to paddies and back to "islands." The eastern edge of the paddies had slowly kept moving to our left and the gently rolling lightly vegetated high ground to our right along the river became our only path of march.

This terrain seemed safer because there were no rice paddies to cross. There was still open ground between bushlines and a few stands of trees but generally it was less vegetated than the average high ground out in the paddies. My first twenty four hours in the Arizona and the worst I had seen was gigantic swarms of vicious mosquitos and hellish heat. The Arizona Territory was not nearly what I had heard in terms of the NVA and VC.

We began moving up a long slope. It was a light upgrade of maybe ten percent and was a couple of hundred meters to the crest. I was feeling the heat. I did not have a sweat band but I had a towel around my neck. Since I was back in the column I kept my head down a lot looking at the ground. Most of the sweat poured right off my face and forehead to the ground. When I looked up I would use the end of the towel to wipe the sweat from my brow so that it wouldn't roll into my eyes and sting them.

About halfway up the slope, I looked up to check my interval with the man in front of me. We were in the open so fifteen or twenty meters was a good gap. I slowed my step up a bit to let the man get a couple more steps ahead. I also checked for where he was walking. He was following a lightly used trail but it was clearly defined. To reduce the chance of hitting a mine or booby trap, the rule was to walk directly in the footprints of the man in front of you. Being at the end of the lead platoon made it difficult to tell which footprints belonged to the man in front of me and which belonged to others in front of him. But it really didn't matter since any of these meant that there was not a mine or booby trap planted there. I lowered my head and continued the extra effort to move up slope.

After another couple of minutes I raised my head again and was confronted with a bad situation. And worse, I had created it. I had slowed my step to allow the man in front of me to get a little further ahead. But I wasn't watching and he got much farther ahead than he should have. He was over thirty meters ahead of me and the gap was widening. The man in front of him was starting to disappear over the crest of a small ridge. And I was slowing to a near stop as I saw the waist high bushline some fifteen meters in front of me.

I was slowing because I could see that the light trail widened as it came to the bushline to encompass three clear breaks in the bushline that were each about two meters apart from the next. I did not see which one was used to go through. Uh oh! I made some noise to try and get the attention of the guy in front of me. "Psst! Psst!" He did not hear me. I would have to yell. That was just as bad. We had been moving very quickly and quietly up until then. I knew that if I yelled out I would give us away.

I turned to look behind me with the hope that the man back there had seen which break had been used. He was carrying a large radio but was not directly behind the Captain. This meant that he had a battalion radio or a Helicopter Support Team (HST) radio or a Forward Air Controller (FAC) or an arty forward control radio. In any of these cases, he was carrying more than the average load and it was clear that this heat had him hurting. He was drenched in sweat with his head down much like I had been so he didn't see where the man in front of me went. As soon as he saw me slowing up, he assumed the column was slowing or stopping so he was taking advantage of it by stopping and shifting his pack to a more comfortable setting on his back.

I turned back to the front realizing that I had to do something before the man in front of me disappeared over the crest which would only compound the problem further. I moved closer to the bushline and my eyes scanned each of the breaks. They all appeared to have been used in recent times. I made my decision. I went for the one in the center and began to step into it. Then I saw that there was a trenchline just the other side of it. I adjusted my step so that I could place my right foot on the near edge of the trench and long step across it.

I began moving quickly to try to catch the man in front of me who was now past the crest and only visible from the shoulders up. I had taken some eight or ten steps when a large explosion occurred at what felt like directly behind me. I was diving for the deck and the concussion from the blast was throwing me there at the same time. As I slammed into the ground the fear rolled over me with a powerful intensity. Not only was something very violent happening to me but I did not have a clue yet as to what it was. Mortar? Rocket? RPG? Ambush?

For a second or two, I laid still. I was waiting for "more" of anything to identify just what happened, what was going to happen, who was doing it and where they were. Then I heard a short moan followed by a scream behind me. I pivoted on my stomach some ninety degrees so that I could easily look behind me. From the trenchline along the bushes behind me came a blood soaked hand and forearm. It was right in front of the break in the bushes that had been to the far left. I instantly understood. The radioman had done the same thing that I did. He apparently did not see which break in the bushes that I had taken and just picked one. The wrong one.

I got up and started back to the wounded Marine. I saw several Marines on the other side of the bushline running up. One Marine from the Company CP group, the Company Gunny, began yelling for everybody to stop where they were at so that the area could be checked for other mines or booby traps before anybody approached the fallen Marine. Everybody responded to his command except for the Company Corpsman who went right through the same break in the bushline where the mine had been and jumped into the trenchline with the wounded Marine. He ignored repeated orders to stop.

The gunny went ahead and started several people on a mine and booby trap check and a couple of others helped the Corpsman get the man out of the trench. He was alive but I believe he at least lost his foot and may have had several other severe injuries from the blast and the shrapnel. My platoon secured the forward area and an LZ was set up to medevac the wounded man.

The area search showed that both the right and left breaks in the bushline had been mined. I realized how lucky I had been when I had picked the only safe one. I wondered how many others besides me had screwed up and actually had to guess when they got up there. Or if there were any others at all. Maybe I was the first screw up in the column and the radioman was the second. I didn't tell anybody what had happened for a while.

We had been moving quickly all day. And everybody knew that one way or another that speed had contributed to this incident. It was sheer luck that the point man had picked the unmined path. Presented with the scenario of three breaks in a bushline, the prudent thing to do would have been to check all three before the point man went through in the first place. But now we knew that we were in a booby trap area and everybody slowed down to a pace of "extra caution." As we moved out to secure the landing zone, eyes were peeled and many were tiptoeing.

This was only my second week and my second operation in Vietnam. And by pure luck I had missed the mine but I was VERY close when it went off. Close enough to be shoved by the blast and lucky enough again not to get hit with any shrapnel from it. As I made my way through the bushes to a position to guard the LZ, the fear spread to every piece of my body. I had to struggle with myself to force my body to move. I was as at maximum "shaken" by the incident. Scared as I would ever get in a mine field.

The medevac chopper came in and left with the wounded Marine without attracting any fire from enemy troops. It was time to move out again. The third platoon commander, Lieutenant Moore, decided to relieve the point squad and moved my squad up to take over. I was given the job of point man.

I was still shaking internally and found all of my limbs difficult to control. I was told to continue north until I got the word to make the turn to due west. I stayed on the high ground that we were on but made a noticeable correction. I moved off the trail to the right about 5 meters. As I approached the first bushline I had to cross, I saw the single break in it where the trail went through. Without hesitation, I slanted even further away from the trail and went to the bushline. With my hands, rifle, and body I broke the bushes far enough apart to step through.

Apparently this method of avoiding mines and booby traps wasn't well known or heard of much. I heard some murmuring behind me. I turned and looked. My squad leader was smiling at me. He said, referring to the trail breaks in the bushline, "They're not all booby trapped. You are going to use a lot of energy if you go through every bushline like that."

I responded with, "How much energy do we use loading bodies on choppers?" Several hoots came from troops in the column who obviously approved of my walking point and steering them away from ANY possible mines and booby traps. The Company Commander and Platoon Commander both thought it was a good move so I continued avoiding the most likely places for mines to be placed.

In less than an hour I was turned to the west and approaching the down slope back into the paddies. I had managed to bring my fears under control and was taking my job as point man very seriously. Along the way on point I practiced the moving of my eyes from the ground where I was going to walk to the terrain ahead and beside me. Mines, booby traps, and ambushes. This was now my mantra on point. I had no intention of becoming an easy kill for Charlie.

I also practiced moving quietly. Even when I broke through bushlines I was careful to bend but not snap the bushes. And I listened. Every once in a while and every time I moved in or out of concealed or semiconcealed areas, I would stop and listen for anything indicating an unseen presence. Just as I came out of the lightly bushed and treed crest area of the high ground to start down the slope I could see the rice paddies and twin "islands" about 75 meters apart on a north-south axis. The "islands" were rough rectangles about 150 meters on the long sides facing each other and about 100 meters deep. Both were more thickly vegetated with bushes and trees at the edges next to the paddies.

Either one or both could be inhabited. I moved into an open area that gave me a clear view down to the "islands" and stopped. The column stopped behind me and was out of sight as well as without the sight I had. I came to a complete stop to listen for voices or movement from either high ground. I thought I could hear voices. I slowly moved my head from side to side trying to catch faint tones in the air. As I did this, I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye.

I snapped my head back to the area of movement. I focused on the scene and then squinted my eyes. I needed to wipe my brow and eyes to be sure there wasn't any sweat blurring my vision but I did not want to make any movement at all if I was seeing what I thought I saw. On the long northern edge of the southern twin "island" I was looking at what appeared to be an NVA fighting hole with four NVA soldiers sitting around it eating and talking. They did not see me. I was about two hundred meters away and they had not looked up to where I was at.

Though I had a shot and might be able to get a couple of them, I was aware that I stood to better that greatly if I could figure out how many there were total and where they all were and keep the element of surprise on my side. I had a company of Marines behind me with access to lots of arty and air. I stayed still and scanned the treeline that they were sitting in along the edge of the paddy. I saw the head of another NVA soldier moving in the bushes about 20 meters beyond the hole I could see. That had to be another fighting hole in there. Now were all four of these guys that I could see actually positioned in that one hole or were they sort of moving around to visit friends in other under what they thought was relatively safe conditions?
How many guys to a hole...two or three or four? Or more? How many positions?

Nobody behind me knew what I was looking at. They thought it was just another temporary pause and listen. I did not turn and signal them at all because I did not want to risk being seen. But when the pause went on too long, I heard my squad leader moan, "What the hell is going on up there? What's taking so long?"

I heard him but right at that moment the NVA had become active. Moving physically around the hole and moving their heads from one to another person as they were speaking. I did not want to risk them catching any movement in their peripheral vision or any faint noise through the air. But my squad leader had now moved up where he could see me standing very still and not responding. Without thinking he stomped up beside me saying much too loudly, "What you got?"

Whether it was his voice or his movement, I'll never know. But all four NVA turned their heads and saw us at the same time that my squad leader saw them. Apparently my squad leader and the NVA all came to the same conclusion. We were two hundred meters apart. We all saw each other. The chances of anybody being able to raise their rifle and fire accurately and fast enough to kill anybody in amongst the bushes or trees at that distance was very slim. Nobody made any moves to shoot.

The NVA talked to each other. Then they got up. One NVA left the hole and went somewhere else in the unseen perimeter. Probably to alert others. The other three began straightening up their position. They got in their hole and began placing their assorted gear in the desired positions. They were not in a hurry. Just getting ready for "another day at the office."

"Damn! I guess we're not scaring them too much." My squad leader shook his head and continued, "I've never seen this kind of thing before. At least not in the daytime. Looks like they are just getting ready for us to come over there. They don't seem to be scared that we'll call any thing heavy in on them. He checked his watch. It was a little past four in the afternoon. There's still at least a couple of hours of light left. He concluded with his final assessment, "This is strange! You keep an eye on them and I'll talk to the Lieutenant." He spun around and moved back through the column.

My job was easy because they were obviously very unconcerned with me being able to see them. As I watched the NVA go about their preparations, I was thinking how I had heard so many Marines who had been in Vietnam so much longer than I say that they had never seen any NVA ever. Even in firefights they had never actually seen the camouflaged enemy troops. I had only been in the bush for a couple of weeks now and I had seen more NVA, camouflaged and otherwise, than almost everybody that I knew in my platoon. Was it better eyes? Was it "better" or "worse" luck? And now I wondered if was it that I had arrived in Vietnam at a time when things were changing. My squad leader had seen many NVA in his time in Vietnam and he was surprised by this situation.

The Lieutenant and the squad leader returned to the front of the column along with the Company Commander. Everybody was duly amazed at the scene. Now what do we do? This apparently was not an easy question. The Captain and Lieutenant moved back in the column to get on the big radios with the big guys at Battalion and/or Regiment. As they began walking away, the Lieutenant asked the Captain if the sniper that was with the company should be brought up to start dinging the NVA. The squad leader quickly jumped in before the Captain could answer, "They have not shot at us yet."

The Captain looked at the squad leader and seemed to understand. He told the Lieutenant, "Let's wait and see what we are going to do before we change the status quo." The shooting would not start yet.

As the Big Guy Conference was taking place, other people in the column began sneaking up to take a look at the unusual circumstances that we were looking at. Everybody was stunned. My squad leader went back in the column and found a pair of binoculars on an FO. He brought them up to the front get a better look at the enemy position. By this time the NVA had finished their preparations and settled in. The one who had left had not returned so this must be a 3 man hole.

"They're eating C-rations! Look at this!" My squad leader passed the binoculars to me. The NVA had got comfortable and resumed eating. Sure enough they were eating U.S. C-rations. This word immediately moved back through the column. The initial thought that they had taken these meals off of dead Marines angered everybody. But it didn't take long before the more likely possibility of crooked South Vietnamese military officers selling them off to stuff their pockets with cash came to everybody's' minds.

This was followed by all sorts of comments coming back up the column. "See if they will trade their pound cake for my fruit cake." "I'll trade them some Tabasco sauce for some of that opium they carry." Etc., etc.

The Lieutenant finally returned to the front of the column with The Plan. I was to guide the column down from the high ground to the other twin "island" just to the north of the one occupied by the NVA. We would assume that the NVA perimeter was in the densest part of the foliage of the "island" which would be the eastern side where there were many trees and large bushes not only along the paddy edge but up into the center of the "island." We would assume this because we could see the NVA there and had seen movement in the bushes further east of them but none on the western side of them.

I was to move the column a bit to the right so that they stayed in the trees coming off the slope and at the bottom of the slope it would be a 50 meter jump across the rice paddy to the western tip of the northern "island." If the NVA perimeter was situated as expected, this open area that we had to cross would be almost completely out of their line of sight.

We would cross the paddy two or three at a time just in case the NVA had put a position over on the other island such as an ambush. After Mike Company was all on the island, I would lead them along the southern edge that faced the NVA. I would stay in the trees enough that we could see the NVA but not in the open enough to engage them. This would mean that they could also see us but it was hoped that by staying far enough back in the trees it would also discourage them from attempting to open up on us from such a disadvantageous point.

Once I was directly across the rice paddy from them I was to halt the column and pass the word back. The order for this entire movement was, "Do not open up on them unless they open up on you. Do not shoot first." Sort of a truce. A "King's X" while we moved into place. Time out has been called on the field of war while the Green Team moves from Point A to Point B.

The entire movement went as planned. But the part where we were moving into place directly across the paddy from them was the most uncomfortable. There was only about 75 meters of open paddy and some 5 to 10 meters more of bushes and trees between us and we could plainly see each other. If they chose to open up, they would not destroy or even seriously hurt us as a company but some people would probably get hit or killed. I really did not want to be "some people." I did not just walk through there. I darted and/or ducked and/or scooted on my knees or butt across the small open areas on our side of the paddy. But not only was there no fire from the NVA but they were very calm. It was disconcerting as hell to run up against NVA who did not seem to have the appropriate fear of us.

PRIOR DAYS : EVENING, SEPTEMBER 10, 1968

As I came within sight of the designated point to stop I ran out of cover. I would have to walk up to the middle of the "island" to go around a large open space with only one bush in it. I halted here instead. The NVA position that we had observed from the high ground was now about 150 meters behind me to my left and across the paddy. They were still visible and just staring at us. No shots fired.

Both the Lieutenant and Captain moved back up to the front again. It was around 6:00 PM. There was still a couple of hours of daylight left. It was decided to get set in on this "island" first. Establish a secured area. The western end of our perimeter would be just the other side of the large open space in front of me. The northern side needed to be up behind us to at least the middle of the "island" where it crested then sloped back down to paddies on the other side.

My platoon got the from the western corner on the paddy east along the edge of the paddy, across the open space, and back along from where we came for about 100 meters. The other two platoons covered the sides and the northern back side. I got the position right where I was standing at the edge of the open space. One position was put into the open space but dug in behind the only bush out there.

From our new vantage point across 75 meters of paddy from the NVA we could see more than we had from up on the high ground slope when we first spotted them. Their positions were camouflaged from the front but they were not trying to stay too hidden since they knew that we already knew they were there. From the number and size of the positions that we could make out, it was estimated that they were about the same size as us. Company strength. One hundred to one hundred twenty five men.

As we began digging in we set up as we would if we didn't know where the enemy was. That is, one Marine would dig while the other two Marines would keep a "hasty defense" out in front to cover him. Every few minutes there would be a rotation. But it was all very relaxed. We had been in sight of the enemy for over two hours with no shooting and were getting used to it.

Then the Captain strolled back down to our section of the perimeter and informed the Lieutenant that he was going to have the sniper set up and start shooting at them. All digging and talking came to a stop as every Marine turned and looked at the Captain in total disbelief. The Captain looked around him as the "loudness" of the abrupt silence struck him. Everybody was looking at him. He said something like, "Well, it is a war."

My squad leader spoke immediately. "But sir, we are trying to dig in now. Can't we wait at least until we are finished so that we don't have people exposed when they return fire?" The Captain was feeling the weight of the Company's eyes on him but it elicited the wrong stance from him. His response was meant and delivered in a manner to answer and underscore the question, "Who is in charge?" Our sniper began shooting. They brought one man up and returned each shot. And we would be ducking for the rest of the day.

Our sniper would ding at them. Their sniper would ding at us. And they clearly made it a "one for one" response. Nothing more than tit for tat. In fact, I don’t think either sniper hit anybody. Just kept everybody's head down and slowed the hole digging down to a crawl. As the afternoon began to expire, the digging of the fighting holes was being done in faster and jerkier movements as each sought to complete his "home" before dark. It was sort of a dance. Three quick swings with the E-tool then hit the deck while the opposing snipers fired one round each into the other’s perimeter. Jump back up and three more swings. There were several songs of the period that could have been used for cadence but I remember thinking of the Seven Dwarfs working at the mine and the Disney songs that went along with that.

A few minutes before dark fell, my squad leader was called up to the platoon CP. It was our squad’s turn for ambush that night. He went up to get the coordinates for the ambush. Upon returning, he got all of the squad behind some trees and sat down to give us the ambush plan. He was studying the map very closely and kept looking up trying to establish the physical location of the map coordinates. And I was right next to him doing the same thing as I read the map over his shoulder. I saw the coordinates on the map as a point about halfway into the high ground across the paddy and I, too, began looking around me to see if I had made a mistake. The high ground across the paddy was where the NVA unit was set in. Obviously they would not give us permission to walk into their perimeter to set up an ambush.

After a few minutes of double, triple, and quadruple checking, my squad leader and I went to the platoon CP to let the Lieutenant know there had been a mistake on the ambush coordinates. The Lieutenant quickly established that this was true and took us to the company CP to show the Captain. He, too, saw the mistake right away. He explained that the coordinates had come from battalion and said he would straighten it out.

The Captain picked up the battalion radio and called in to explain the situation as we waited for the correct coordinates. We could hear some of the radio conversation coming across on the earpiece of the handset. It only took a few minutes for the Colonel to get on the radio and say that he had given those coordinates and expected his orders to be carried out. The Captain, as all of us with him, still believed that he hadn't been made aware that the coordinates we had were inside the NVA perimeter so he began to explain to the Colonel. The response, in a very sharp tone and cutting off the Captain's explanation, was something like, "I know where the coordinates are at Captain. Did you hear what I said?" The Captain blushed as he now understood what was happening and saw us looking at him, waiting for the "mistake" to be straightened out.

But he had been completely shut down by the Colonel. Everybody began looking back and forth at each other not knowing exactly what to say. Finally, my squad leader broke the silence with, "This is not an ambush being sent out. This is a suicide mission that is being disguised as an ambush. I am not taking my squad of 6 men on a frontal assault of some 100 gooks. We will all be dead 20 meters outside their lines. I've never even heard of this kind of shit." To their credit, both the Captain and Lieutenant, turned even redder than they already were. There was no doubt that the squad leader was right. These were the kind of missions that they called for volunteers to do and only if there was some dire pressing need such as saving some American lives. No one present had even heard of a Marine officer attempting to "trick" Marines into a suicide mission and with one with no apparent reason, to boot.

The Captain said very softly, "Well, these were the orders that I just got as you heard." And then he just sort of let his voice and words trail off giving clear tacit admission that he agreed with everything that was just said by the squad leader. The Captain was NOT going to say or do anything else regarding the order that he had just heard. The squad leader did not catch this and started to renew his protest. The Lieutenant grabbed his arm and said, "Lets go back to the platoon CP." Still the squad leader was trying to protest as both the Lieutenant and I got on either side of him to direct him back. I tried to whisper in his ear that everything was actually okay but it wasn't until we dragged him several meters away that the Lieutenant and I both were able to explain to him that the Captain had just given his "approval" to sandbag the ambush in the only way that he could as a good Marine officer.

That night my squad was dispersed throughout the other positions of third platoon. We did not go out on ambush at all. There was no activity anywhere on the lines. Just before first light, the squad leader ran out into the paddy and fired a green popup flare as if we were signaling to come back in. How the Captain handled any radio traffic from the Colonel through the night, I have no idea. It was very clear that whatever punishment might come down for this, it was better than committing suicide for the Colonel's amusement.

This was a very eye opening experience for all involved. And disturbing. A battalion commander in the U.S. Marine Corps had knowingly issued an order that attempted to disguise one maneuver as another and he knew in advance that the order would only accomplish one thing….the deaths of all Marines involved. He literally and knowingly had ordered a kamikaze maneuver without even a tactical gain as an excuse.

The speculation as to the reasons he would do such a thing were rampant that night and for days thereafter. 1) Maybe In the overall picture of the operation there were mileposts that if achieved would allow for an "upgrade" of the operation. One of these mileposts was Marine KIA's. The battalion was just short of having enough KIA's to allow the expansion of the operation into something bigger which would have looked much better in the Colonel’s record book. 2) Same premise as number 1, but it was to get more air power involved in the operation. 3) The Colonel did not like our Captain and this was his way of showing it. 4) The Colonel was simply psychologically and/or emotionally disturbed.

Nothing else was ever said about the incident that I am aware of. It doesn't take an Einstein to figure out that the Colonel knew that we didn't carry out his orders. He was not with our company but was close enough to hear the gun fire that should have killed us and, of course, should have received reports over the radio. If he called the Captain asking where we were or why hadn't he heard any gun fire, I do not know. If he did, I am sure the Captain gave whatever answer he felt he had to. But there were no repercussions whatever on us, the troops. As for the Lieutenant or the Captain. I am not aware of any problems they may have had. I thank God for their strength of character as true Marine officers in stepping between us and whatever madness was coming our way.

If the Colonel had tried to pursue any kind of legal action regarding failure to carry out an order, it is obvious that win or lose, he would have wound up in a position of having to explain to fellow officers about his order for the ambush to be inside of an enemy perimeter. That would certainly have been at least professionally embarrassing if not career destroying. "Lawful order," if it was one, does not necessarily mean an order that anybody in their right mind would publicly try to justify.

((To Be Continued)

PRIOR DAYS: SEPTEMBER 3, 1968
PRIOR DAYS: SEPTEMBER 4, 1968
PRIOR DAYS: SEPTEMBER 5, 1968
PRIOR DAYS: SEPTEMBER 6, 7, 8, 1968
PRIOR DAYS: SEPTEMBER 9, 1968
PRIOR DAYS: SEPTEMBER 10, 1968
PRIOR DAYS: SEPTEMBER 11, 1968
AFTERMATH

[Home] [Intro] [Table of Contents] [What's New] [My Marines] [FMF Corpsmen] [Combat Wives]
[Combat Histories] [Memorials] [Stories, Poems, Memoirs] [Reunions] [Special Tributes]
[Picture Gallery] [Links] [Guestbook] [Message Forum]