SEPTEMBER 11, 1968
Go Noi Island - Quang Nam Province - South Vietnam

Written by Mike McFerrin, 3rd Plt. M Co. 3/5 to fellow Marine, Elvin Bruce Jones, "BJ"

THE DAY: Â SEPTEMBER 11, 1968

At first light everybody was up. And the first thing everybody did was look across the paddy to see if the NVA had left during the night. They were still there. Eating C-ration breakfasts too.

This morning was another slow-to-go morning. Any morning that we were not moving within 30 minutes of first light was a "slow" morning. It was obvious that we were going to do something but once again there was a lot of radio traffic going on at the Company CP. We waited. At least the Captain didn't have the sniper start up again.

It was around nine in the morning when the platoon commanders went to the Company CP to get briefed. Soon after that we were staging our gear at the crest of our "island" and mounting up for an attack on the NVA "island." We would leave our packs and unnecessary stuff and take only what we needed for the attack. Weapons, ammo, grenades.

My platoon's position in the perimeter had been what appeared to be directly across the paddy from the NVA perimeter. Since we could not actually see the camouflaged positions in the tree line from this vantage point, it was more or less an educated guess based on what we had been able to see from above the day before, the lay of the terrain, and the density of vegetation. Today, my platoon would move back eastward along the edge of the paddy until this area was vacated. Second Platoon would take our place along the paddy directly across from the NVA and prepare to advance across the paddy in a wedge formation.

My platoon would stay strung along the edge of the paddy just to their left and act as a base of fire, shooting at a right oblique angle across their front, to cover their advance. To their right there was only enough room for a squad or so of First Platoon to act as a base of fire. The rest of First Platoon was kept up in the trees behind the attacking platoon as a "reserve."

All of the platoons got the word on what we were to do and began to hustle about. I heard questions coming from the squad leaders to platoon commanders regarding the intended assault. Most were asking why we were not calling in an airstrike first or even artillery since we were close enough to An Hoa to get it. There was a mishmash of answers talking about us being "too close" to the enemy, arty and air being "too busy" to give us timely support, and such. Bottom line.........none of the above would be used.

My Platoon CP stayed with the Company CP and the reserve force from First Platoon. The three squads from my platoon moved along the paddy just inside of the treeline. The squad leaders were designating positions where two or three men could get good cover behind trees and good concealment behind bushes. My squad was in the middle and there were immediately two good spots which everybody jumped in but me. We needed to be spread out in three spots so I moved on down. As I came around some bushes, I saw that there was about a thirty meter open gap along the paddy where there was no trees, no rises in the earth to give cover, and only one large but thinly branched bush in it. The last squad ran around me to the next available spot in a clump of trees on the other side of the open area and then another one just past that.

My squad leader told me to just get down behind the bush where they couldn't see me. I tried that but they only way they might not be able to see me is if I laid on my side because the bush wasn't wide enough. And the only part of the bush that might stop a bullet was the bottom where all the little branches came together. I didn't like this but there wasn't any room around the good places that were now all taken. This would have to do for now.

After getting set in we just laid there for a while. Maybe a half hour or so. There was speculation that they were trying to call some artillery in on the NVA position. It was somewhere past ten in the morning and I was starting to find out that the other thing wrong with my measly bush position. There was no shade. I looked around on both sides of me and everybody had shade except me. And it was beginning to get hot. Very hot. I had brought only my rifle, two bandoleers of ten filled magazines each, and three grenades. I had left my web belt with my one canteen stashed with my pack that had two canteens with it. I hoped that this would not take too long. I was really starting to sweat as I lay flat in the sun with my olive drab uniform sucking up the heat.

Finally the word came down that Second Platoon was ready and we all opened up on the NVA "island." We were targeting every clump of bushes and trees that we could see knowing that at least some of them had enemy positions in them. We concentrated the fire in the area from our direct front across the paddy to the direct front of where second platoon was going to cross. After a couple of magazines of ammo, the word was passed down that second platoon was moving out. We were to be careful when shooting to their front. When they had gotten far enough out across the paddy that it was too dangerous, we would receive the "cease fire" order.

There had been no return fire yet from the NVA. It was possible that they had slipped out of there this morning as we were getting set up. I continued firing at the bush clumps and tree stand areas across the paddy. I slowed my fire a bit as I looked to the right along the edge of the paddy and saw Second Platoon begin moving out. The front of the platoon wedge was some 25 meters into the paddy before the last man on the flank entered the paddy. They were moving at normal walk speed as they all fired their weapons into the same clumps that we were. There was a lot of firepower. If the gooks were there, they had their heads down for sure.

I continued looking back and forth as the platoon moved across the paddy and I kept putting fire out. The point of the wedge was nearing the far edge of the paddy so I emptied the magazine I had just as the cease fire order was given for us. There was a substantial decrease in the fire on the NVA positions but the point man was entering the "island." It seemed as if the "island" had been left for us.

I began changing magazines and was expecting to be ordered back to get our gear and move out. Just as I chambered the first round from the new magazine, there was a five to 10 second blast of fire from across the paddy. It was short but deadly.

It was immediately followed by the sounds of many men who were dying at the same time. And they were conscious of that fact they were dying for a few milliseconds to many seconds before it happened. "Ohhhhh NO!" "God! Please NO!" "Help ME!" The screams came across the paddy filled with fear, pain, and the protest of death at such a young age. The sounds pierced every fiber of my being. For that instant, I felt all of their terror.

There was an eerie few seconds of silence. I glanced up but saw no Marines standing in the paddy. The Marines that I could see down in the paddy were not moving. There were no orders being shouted from anywhere. There were no volleys of fire in either direction. Just the fading sounds of those who were still clinging to life.

Then things began to stir again. I heard some single shots ring out. And another yell from a Marine being hit, or hit again. Then I could hear the crackle of my squad radio which was in the position to my right under a big tree. It was the Platoon Commander out in the paddy. He was almost completely "over the edge" as he screamed for help. "Help us! Please help us!"

There was no answer from the Captain or anybody else. Contact with the enemy was expected but it had just started. The only Marines firing at targets when the NVA opened up were the Marines in the paddy. All other Marines were sort of waiting for the Marines in the paddy to respond to the NVA by concentrating their fire where they knew it was needed. But there was no return fire that we could tell and even the NVA stopped firing after their first short volley. The contact with the enemy was so short that nobody outside of the paddy fully realized what had happened.

After a few seconds of nothing over the radio, the Platoon Commander called out again. This time the scream was reduced to a wailing cry. "We need help. Everybody has been shot. We can't move or they shoot us again."

I could hear movement and voices over to my far right where the reserve portion of First Platoon was in the treeline behind Second Platoon. Though I couldn't see them through the trees, it was obvious that some of them had moved to the edge of the paddy. I heard some M-16s open up from there. Then I could see some four or five Marines running out to the downed Marines furthest back in the wedge and closest to our side of the paddy. There was more fire from the Marines and then from the NVA. From the voices and sounds, it was clear that more Marines were getting hit.

The Company Commander was even further back in our "island" than the reserve platoon and had less of a view of the paddy. Everybody was trying to assess the situation without the normal input of voice and visuals from the attacking platoon. The only one who was attempting communication was the Platoon Commander. The Captain finally responded to him and tried to get him calmed down. He fired questions at the Lieutenant to get him to assess and convey the status of his platoon. "How many casualties do you have? Where is the enemy fire coming from?" Etc., etc.

The Lieutenant was in shock but very well trained. The questions, in an authoritative tone, from the Captain worked as he immediately started pulling himself back together. It crossed my mind that THIS is where the Marine Corps training became the differentiator that made the Corps what it was.

The radio traffic began to clarify the situation and several shots from the NVA confirmed it. The Lieutenant said, "Almost everybody has been shot. I don't know how many are KIA. I've got at least 4 emergency medevacs. We can't move."

"You have everybody who can start returning fire now. We'll get you some help," the Captain replied. I could hear a shout from in the paddy that must have been the Lieutenant. It was followed by several popping sounds from the NVA side of the paddy.

The radio crackled and it was the Lieutenant again. "Mike 6, my men cannot even move without getting shot again. They have a bead on all of us. I don't have any men left. It's only me and my radio man. We need help!" The radio hissed and crackled then hissed and crackled again as if somebody was keying and unkeying the handset. Simultaneously there were several shots again from the NVA.

The Lieutenant's voice came out of the second crackle with a deep urgency to it. "They just killed my radioman. Oh, God!" There was a half scream across the radio before the handset was unkeyed and cut it off. There was a gap of several seconds and the Lieutenant was back on. "I'm hit. I've been shot in the leg."

"We are coming Mike 2 Actual." That was all the Captain had time to say. Over the last couple of minutes, the reality of what had happened and what was still happening out in the paddy was finally sinking in for the Captain as well as the rest of us.

In terms of a normal firefight, there had not been one. No furious exchanges of fire. There had been the "recon" by fire as the platoon, moving across the paddy, had sought to put the enemies' heads down. Then there had been a few seconds of "popping" that was the very limited return fire by the enemy. Then nothing but an occasional pop until the Marines from the reserve went out to get the wounded. And even then there was only a few bursts of Marine fire followed by a few pops and it stopped. Though we had all heard the screams of the dying Marines, there simply had not been enough rounds fired by either side during the time period when both sides had people up and firing to indicate any significant level of damage to either side.

But this contact with the enemy had been unusual from the very beginning. They had not scattered during the first sighting even though it was daylight. They had not hit us during the night then slipped away before dawn. And they apparently were excellent shots with superb unit coordination. Word came down the line that almost the entire platoon had been hit in the head or chest with one shot each in the two or three seconds of initial fire from the NVA.

Somebody made the comment, "Those aren't AKs that have been firing at us." Somehow, that key piece of information had slipped by everybody. The distinctive "crack" sound of the AK firing at you was one that we were all intimately familiar with.
And these were not AKs. One of the Marines who had been there for several months identified the weapons being used against us as SKS rifles. A Communist made rifle that was much longer than an AK. It did not have an automatic fire setting. In fact, it had no external magazine. It had a small internal magazine with a ten round capacity that was loaded by hand and possibly with a charger guide for faster loading although I never saw one. Because of its length, bolt action, semiautomatic firing, and relatively small amount of use compared to the AK, it was associated with sniper use by the NVA but I do not think that it was an "official" Communist sniper rifle. In any case, the realization of the extent of damage done to the Marines in the paddy combined with the realization that all of the NVA seemed to be carrying an SKS generated the concept that we had run into a company of NVA snipers.

As the picture of what had happened began to develop and the comprehension of what we were up against rolled through the Company, so did the anger and the esprit de corps. Now, just like those few Marines in the reserve platoon who first realized what was happening and were spurred to heroic action to save the Marines in the paddy, every Marine in the Company was ready to take action to save their fellow Marine and take revenge against these NVA no matter how good they were at anything.

Things were moving too slow for the angry Marines on the base of fire. The reserve platoon was being spread out to fire over the heads of the Marines in the paddy. Rescue teams were being formed. Rescue targets were being identified by calling out names and looking for movement from any of the prone Marines in the paddy. My squad leader grabbed the radio handset and asked if we could also open up from the base of fire. Permission to do this was denied because our angle of view and the rice plants in the paddy kept us from seeing some of the Marines that could be hit by our fire.

The live Marines closest to our side of the paddy were targeted for rescue. More firepower was concentrated from the reserve platoon on to the enemy side. I could hear the M-60 machine guns and see the tracers. The fire did not let up as the rescue teams went out. The Marines just shifted their fire to make a "safe lane" but kept pouring out maximum fire. The NVA did open up on the rescuers but there were definitely fewer weapons that fired towards us. I believe Marines were hit this time also but the yelling, shouting, and firing of Marines trying to get the NVA was dominant.

One or two of the wounded or dead were recovered but it was still too tough to go very far out into the paddy. We would try again but this time they would allow the base of fire to join in. My squad leader got on the radio with the Captain and they worked out a physical point on the NVA side of the paddy that would be our limit of fire to the right. This was an imaginary line that ran from one big tree on our side of the paddy to a big tree on the NVA side. The base of the tree on the far side would be the lower limit of our fire. About two foot above rice paddy water level. The trees were identified to everybody and another rescue effort mounted. This was repeated a couple of more times. Only one was recovered in these attempts. The efforts were then stopped to await an artillery barrage on the NVA treeline.

I had now been laying in the open sun for a couple of hours. And I was feeling it like I had never felt it before. I had no water with me. I had assumed that this would be over quickly one way or another and had not even considered bringing a canteen with me. I would not ever make that mistake again. My squad leader chastised me for not bringing a canteen then threw one out to me. I gulped down the water and then lay flat as my head and face seemed to bake. Within a minute or two, I began a very loud vomiting session as I emptied my stomach of breakfast and the water I had just taken in. But I couldn't stop there. I continued heaving with an empty stomach for another minute or two. I was completely doubled over and was sure that my stomach was turned inside out in my throat somewhere.

About five minutes later, I again broke into a couple of minutes worth of dry heaving. I had completely stopped sweating and was turning red all over. My squad leader saw my condition and found somebody with some salt pills. They were thrown to me and I took two with some water as ordered. It wasn't long before they were thrown out of my body. I continued repeating the process.

It took the arty about twenty minutes to get set up and fire the first rounds. These were adjusted by the Forward Observer (FO) and the barrage was unleashed on the NVA line along the paddy. After a few minutes of this, we all got ready to make more rescue efforts. The FO notified the Captain when the last round had left the cannon and the Captain gave us the "Go!" as that round impacted. We were up and firing as the rescue teams ran out.

This time the NVA also fired on us in the base of fire. All of the Marines in the base of fire had adequate cover except me. If any NVA had an unobstructed view across the rice paddy at the appropriate angle they would be able to see me. Or at least part of me........an arm, a leg, etc. behind my measly little bush. As time went by, it became obvious that I had been spotted and was being spotted by more NVA. Single rounds began striking closer and closer to me. But they never seemed to get closer than an occasional couple of inches away. Foliage and camouflage around their positions along with our fire and the involuntary convulsions of my body when I was dry heaving seemed to be enough to keep any "dead eye Charlies" from hitting the bulls eye. In the prone position facing them, I was a very small target anyway. And I was the least threat to them since I had to stop firing every time I heaved.

In any case, the rescue effort was aborted due to intensity and accuracy of the enemy fire. More artillery was called in. This time the artillery did not stop. The pounding of the enemy perimeter kept up. Back and forth across the NVA "island." Screeching, wind splitting projectiles coming in one after another. Huge explosions, flashes. Hot metal whistling in all directions.

(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

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