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"

PRIOR DAYS: SEPTEMBER 9, 1968

The morning was very busy. Many things had been put off to the last minute. We got our C-ration and ammo distribution. Canteens were filled. We had known since yesterday that we were going into the Arizona Territory. But we still didn't know where in the Arizona or how we were going.

We were hustled out by the airstrip for formation. From there we assumed column formation and headed towards the southwestern edge of the perimeter. As we left the perimeter, the word was passed that we were moving to the river in Duc Duc.

The eastern edge of the village of Duc Duc was some 700 meters from the first wire of the western edge of the An Hoa perimeter. It was the largest village in the entire An Hoa basin and was the district headquarters for the Duc Duc district which was similar in size and scope to a county in the States. It had a large market area, government administrative offices, and perhaps a population of several hundred but less than a thousand.

Duc Duc sat along the eastern side of a river that formed one of the boundaries of what the Marines called the "Arizona Territory." The entire Arizona was an approximate triangle formed by a mountain range and two rivers that left the mountain area about five miles apart and then joined together some 7 miles downstream as they headed for the South China Sea. The lowland area was very fertile and almost completely covered with rice paddies except along the edges of the rivers. Dotted about were small pieces of high ground that were large enough for three to 10 families to have a home and a garden. This very large "ricebowl" area situated far out in the countryside being bordered by two rivers and a mountain area made it a key economic and transportation hub that touched the life of Vietnamese for many miles around.

The enemy, in the form of the Viet Cong, drew its manpower strength from the local population. The enemy, both Viet Cong and NVA, drew major quantities of sustenance from the area. The South Vietnamese government sought to deny the yield of this prime agricultural area from going to the enemy military machine. This battle had not been decisively won by either since the beginning of the war. Even with American troops becoming involved, the commitment seemed only enough to keep the other side from completely taking over. There was always an operation going on in the Arizona. They were designed to find and destroy the enemy troops. But there was no occupation force of any kind to insure it stayed that way. And the enemy forces in the area were intent on holding on to what they did have there. They operated mostly during the hours of darkness and were successful in securing most of what they needed. They owned the night. The Marines looked for them during the day and if they found them were almost always able to destroy many but only in very fierce fights.

The quality of the NVA troops encountered there was part of the basis for the name given to it by the Marines. As I heard it, one of the first operations run in the area a couple of years before was called Operation Arizona. The Marines became aware very quickly that they were up against veteran NVA troops who were a notch or two better than the average and dedicated as well. The operation was called Arizona and the NVA were so good that they were compared to the gunslingers who occupied and made the original Arizona Territory so dangerous. The Arizona Territory in Vietnam was so named and thereafter never failed to live up to its reputation of almost daily contacts with a ferocious NVA unit of one kind or another.

We went right into Duc Duc in column and found our way down to the river. The column was spread out along the riverbank as the word was passed that we would be crossing the river in sampans. This almost sounded like fun. A Disneyland ride or something. But we were bush Marines and other things crossed our minds as we surveyed the scene.

First, this was a RIVER. Not a stream or a brook. At least six or seven hundred meters wide. And it looked deep. And fast.

Second, what's a sampan? I had seen a lot of things pointed to and called a sampan since I arrived in Vietnam. Mostly in DaNang harbor. All I saw here along the beach were the little canoes that I also had heard called sampans. These looked like dugouts. Basically, a canoe fashioned out of a single large log. Room at either end for a paddler and a bit of room in between for a small amount of cargo. These did not look like they could cross a fast moving river. Go down river easily and maybe, with an extreme effort by the oarsmen, go up river. But they did not appear to be able to remain upright with the current hitting directly broadside.

Third, the other side of the river was the Arizona Territory. It wasn't like we would be riding up to Omaha Beach on D-Day in thousands of motorized, steel fronted landing craft to perform a massive assault. Ten or twelve rowboats coming at the far side of the river seemed more likely to produce bellowing laughter from the enemy before he riddled them with AK fire sending all the Marines to the bottom as they drowned trying to disengage themselves from the seventy pound anchors on their backs.

As it turned out, we had lots of time to sit around and conjure up all sorts of these horrible pictures. Apparently, this troop movement had not been properly negotiated for. The entire operation was on hold as the Captain had to radio back to An Hoa. I suspect that a sudden, unknown tax was applied to a payment already received by the chief of the village. The Marines would not be boarding any sampans until that tax payment was received. The South Vietnamese governmental infrastructure was a fine tuned machine when it came to prosecuting the war with such a rich ally. The day was extremely hot and getting hotter. While the Marines languished along the river, the humidity rose with the temperature. The villagers were already stirring en masse to take further advantage of such an opportunity........some 130 bored, thirsty, and rich Marines right in their ville. It wasn't long before they were being descended upon by South Vietnamese National Sales Force with the staples of war.......booze, pot, sex, candy, and cold sodas. The ones selling booze, sex or drugs were chased off by the platoon sergeants leaving only the candy and cold Cokes sales people.

This simple scene was actually one of the many wonders of the Vietnam War. That is, it really made everybody wonder. Here we were some 35 miles from the nearest town of any size. Thirty-five miles from the nearest electrical grid. On the very edge of ancient jungle. We were beginning to succumb to horrendous thirst as the moisture was sucked from our bodies and these kids show up with literally thousands of ice cold Cokes. ??????

How did all of these Cokes get ice cold in this heat with no electricity? Some thought that there was a generator hooked up to an ice house or refrigeration unit. But there was no engine running anywhere. Others thought that a couple canoes of ice had been brought down river. It didn't seem practical or economical. And it would have taken a lot more than a couple of canoes worth to arrive with enough to make this many Cokes cold. Jungle ice was a mystery.

And how did all of these Cokes get in the possession of the villagers in the first place? These were cans of Coke from the U.S., not bottles of Coke from a licensed foreign bottler. And they had enough that every man could buy as many as he wanted. This amounted to well over a thousand. At least 50 cases. Even an American would be hard pressed to be able to purchase that many at once at even the large PX in DaNang. Supply volume was an issue especially during the hotter times of the year. Obviously, somebody in this little rural village was well connected.

As the hordes of kids descended upon the Marines in column on the riverbank, the economics of the blackmarket became clear. They wanted $1 per can. This would be $7.50 per Coke in present value. An absurd price. A price so high that it made everybody squeal and turn their back on the sales force in disgust. Except for one or two Marines who paid it. The kids looked dejected but refused to lower the price.

After another half hour in the heat, the kids returned and a few more Marines bought some and even some of the first buyers bought another round. But even Marines who still did not want to pay the price were calling the kids over because they wanted to at least feel the ice cold cans. A couple of seconds of gripping the can was usually enough to break down any remaining resistance and a sale was made. Before the kids had finished the round, the word was passed down that it was going to be one to two hours before we crossed. That did it. Everybody began whipping out their dollars.

Somewhere around noon we were lining up to board the sampans. The initial idea was three Marines to a sampan. One Marine would sit at the back directly in front of the Vietnamese rower and facing the front. One Marine would sit at the front directly behind the oarsman and facing the rear. The third Marine would sit somewhere in between the other two Marines facing either way. Upon attempting execution of this maneuver though it was discovered that after a very careful balancing act to get two fully loaded Marines properly set in the sampan, the third fully loaded Marine's attempt to board and get situated would cause the boat to tip over. Two at a time would be the load.

It was broad daylight and the far side of the river was relatively flat and sparsely vegetated so a continuous reconnaissance of the far side for an hour or so before the movement and a small base of fire set up on the near side were considered adequate security for the first set of sampans. The first arrivals then set up a security zone for the others. The wobbly canoes seemed to do better with weight in them but the waterline was uncomfortably high. Within three or four inches of splashing in on the up river side of the boat. It was not a fast trip nor a straight one. Sampans were landing far more spread out than the formation they started in. But within a couple of hours the entire company and all of the gear it carried were safely in the Arizona.

Mike Company assembled on the western side of the river and began moving out in column in a northerly direction. The route of march began to take us away from the river which ran in a northeasterly direction. We moved across open rice paddies on the checkerboard of dikes that crisscrossed them to "islands" of high ground that had bushes, trees, and sometimes a small ville. Tactical security was used in the movement. Bases of fire were set up to cover open areas that were crossed in small units. Flanks were put out when moving through the high ground. This was slow but safe.

We had a late start because of the delayed crossing and there seemed to be some concern about trying to get to a certain point before setting in. After about 4PM, I heard the Captain issue the order to move back closer to the river and avoid the high grounds so that we could keep moving. We set in on some uninhabited high ground that was three to four hundred meters from the river.

This was our first day and night in the Arizona. No contact with the enemy at all. This is not completely true. We had no contact with the NVA or VC is more accurate. But that night we had a great deal of contact with another Vietnamese enemy. The incredible swarms of large, ferocious "vampires" that scour the area at night for dinner. B-52 sized mosquitos. I could not cover my body with anything thick enough or tough enough that they could not pierce. It was almost possible to fall asleep while under attack from these swarms. They were particularly hungry that night.

(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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