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We once found a bomb in the mountains off of Ross. The CO left about 8 of us to blow the thing. He told us not to blow it until the company was far enough away. It took them a long time and finally they called on the radio and said to blow it. We put about a five minute fuse on it and started to run. The CO didn’t say anything about climbing up a waterfall to get far enough away. They dropped a rope down and said tie your pack to the rope. The heck with the packs, just get us up the waterfall. We went back down after the big bang and retrieved our packs.
Carl:
I am doing some work right now on getting our KIA list corrected. You guys discussed below about big battles. I got the duty officers log for 2/1 on the big battle on January 5 & 6, 1968. I see you were wounded one of those days along with 58 other guys and the company had 19 brave men killed over that two day period. That must have been horrible to go thru.
Did they get your name wrong on the report, it shows your last name as Fryman, but shows your first name as Henery. But the guy on the wounded report just before your name was Henery Fortson, so it must be a typo.
Short Round
If I’m not mistaken, it was you and I that blew that 500 pounder.
I’m sure that left a nice swimming pool at the base of that hill.
Those were the days…… My how I miss them. I have not blown up anything in over 43
years. It’s just not right….
tooch–just be grateful mom didn`t say–“ruck up–10 klicks-up hill-no water ” then you can whine “–
interesting–a total 180 about a 500 lb bomb–april of 1970–with cpt gardner–we walked up on an un-exploded 500 lb bomb that was not reported, far as we knew, so we did the obvious–blew it in place. have mentioned this before. B-TAC called out-asked if we knew about an explosion from around our area. when gardner told B-toc it was us , he got chewed for not telling them 1st. last i heard, gardner was explaining that it was chuck missar`s fault, not his.
One of the other platoons once came upon a tin can sitting upside down on a trail. Since there was probably an un-pinned frag underneath, they too simply blew it in place. Then, they got their asses chewed by BTOC for not first lifting the can to see what was under it!
Sometimes, I wondered if the folks at BTOC were even on the same planet as us.
Ben Buehler! Is this you? LOL
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yu3D6TbCo7s
I don’t think looking around for potential threats is a bad thing, even if we’re sometimes wrong. My family calls it “paranoia,” but I call it being prepared. My shrink at the VA called it “ambush mentality.” Having been caught by surprise in REAL ambushes, we’ll never be caught that way again.
I think he’s right.
Gary, you are right about that. A grunt is always a grunt. I can understand Abrams tactic because the Tet Offensive was a disaster for the NVA and the VC. The VC was never able to organize into a real fighting force after that. Don’t ever feel inadequate! I wish I’d never been in those big firefights.
You had a job and did it well. Like all of us earlier, we spent one whole year running from the grim reaper and were successful. I’m sure others have had similar experiences as we had. That what makes reunions great; just sitting around and telling war stories. I guess WW2 guys did that also but I don’t remember any guys from Korea talking much about their experiences.
Bill, whenever I go into a restroom, and like you I don’t pass up too many, I try to watch who comes in who’s going out. I don’t trust anyone this day and time.
Gary,
I still look around also. About 5 or 6 years ago I was in Atlanta at the underground. It had changed and become more down since I had been there 20 or so years before.
I was with two other men and I went to the men’s room as I do quite frequently now. My friends continued to look around and did not come in. When I walked in there I scouted the area and there were at least 5 African-American men there. I felt safe and not threaten. I didn’t think anything of it. As I stood at the urinal I felt something press in to my rib cage and the voice said it was a gun and he wanted my money & not to turn around. Believe it or not I turned around. Everyone was gone but us. He kept telling me to turn back around which I didn’t. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my money clip which had about $50 and gave it to him. He never asked for my credit card holder but continued to press something in my side.
I really by now figured he did not have a gun but using his knuckle as the gun. I figured he was 35 or plus years younger and in a lot better shape than me and I could afford the $50 better than a beating. He took off out the door and up the exist to street level and disappeared in the crowd.
The point is I was to trusting even though I had assessed the situation. I thought I was in a safe environment. I reported it to the rent a cops but not to the Atlanta police.
Ever since I still look for safety areas when I am out and do not assume anything. I guess what we did in Vietnam as grunts will never leave us.
I was still looking at him and he kept saying turn around
Carl: What I find most astonishing about this exchange of stories is just how similar our experiences were, even they they were separated by 2 or 3 years and a complete change in strategy. When Creighton Abrams took over from Westmoreland, he quit seeking the big, decisive battles and concentrated on finding and destroying the weapons and rice cache’s the enemy needed to stockpile in advance of any major operation. The knock-down, drag-out fights like y’all had in 68 and 69 eventually became rare because the enemy’s ability to mass and attack was seriously compromised. By the time I got there in late 1970, they just didn’t happen with any regularity. In fact, during the time I was with Charlie company, we only got into one big fight and I wasn’t even in the bush for that one! (I’d gone home on leave instead of an R&R and stayed AWOL in Saigon for awhile. 🙂 )
The point is that even though the war had changed from hard-charging, big unit operations into one of small unit patrolling with intermittent light contact, it made no difference for the grunts in the field. It was still the same ‘ol, same ‘ol, but without the massive piles of bodies.
For a long time I used to feel pretty inadequate around you guys who were there during the big battle time frame. I felt like I really hadn’t done anything in comparison to y’all. But, the more I hang around here, the more I realize that a grunt is a grunt….period. It never changes. My war was only different from yours, and yours from mine, by degree.
I guess that would apply across the board: WWI, WWII, Korea, Vietnam, Panama, the Gulf War, Iraq, Afghanistan….a grunt will always be a grunt. Only the weapons and circumstances change.
Gary,
Your story is similar to one I experienced in August of 68. We left Ross on Chinooks and flew a long ways west. George Hill, our squad leader, later told me we were in Laos. We built an LZ there and began operations around the LZ. Had several small firefights and had a few WIA’s. We got wind of an NVA base camp not far from our position. They hit it with arty, gunships and jets. An F4 called down and said he was taking heavy .51 cal fire. As we moved toward the basecamp, we found some water buffalo tracks in a stream and started following them. There were about 10 of us walking up the middle of this stream. I carried the radio so I turned it down as low as possible and got near one side of the bank. When we found the buffalo, the CO ordered us to shoot them. I found a tree out in the stream near the bank an hunkered down so I couldn’t be seen. Suddenly, everyone was running toward me by the tree near the bank. One gook came down the middle of the stream, oblivious to us being there even after we killed the water buffalo. We took him prisoner and headed back to the company. I just knew about 100 NVA were looking at us and any minute would open up on us.
Later, we went into the basecamp and the NVA had left in a hurry. They left a guy on the operating table in a big cave. He was still sedated when we carried him out. I would have loved to see the look on his face when he came to. They failed to bury their dead completely leaving hands, arms, feet, and legs sticking out. Rather freaky!!!! We spent a few nights there and I didn’t like one minute of that. Our pow had fought against us in 3 other battles; on 5 Jan, 9 Feb and at Kham Duc 10-12 May. He told us where every NVA and VC were within 50 miles of us but we didn’t go after them. They sent the Marines. Gary, when you told that story, it was so similar to mine that I had to share it.
Bill: Don’t feel like the Lone Ranger. I was just down in the woods yesterday with my eldest grandson and so long as we were in the woods, I was fine. But, the moment we stepped out into an open field, I started to get nervous and couldn’t stand it for very long. I had to move back to the tree line. It’s gotten better over the years, but it’s still there.
I also can’t seem to stop scouting for defensible positions anywhere I am. Whether I’m in the woods, on the highway, in the big city or even in Walmart, I’m always aware of where I can get to and defend myself in an emergency. And, I’m always eyeballing around for potential threats. That ain’t normal.
LT, yes; I miss it. Vietnam taught me about myself. I grew up there. I found out how much I could endure. I developed leadership skills, which became very useful in my career. On the negative side, I feel as though I never left; or more clearly what I left there. Most of all, I miss that era of my life. I told my 86 year old mother the other day “mom, it sucks getting old” She told me to stop whining!
To this day if I am in a open field I look at the tree line thinking this would be a great spot for an ambush. My mind knows it is not going to happen but the memories rush back.
Hey Tooch,
I am waiting for your answer!
Clay: Your story about the ammo cache’ reminds me of a little trouble the 2nd platoon got into. This was out in the Thien Phouc area.
We were taking a break in a little clearing in that heavy jungle when LT. Haines got a call on the radio. At some time in the recent past, an Air Force jet had dropped a 500 lb bomb on the hill just above us and it hadn’t detonated. They wanted us to go find it and blow it in place.
So, the LT and SFC Stailey gathered up about 5 or 6 of us and we moved out, following a little creek that ran off the hill into our clearing. It was pretty steep and rocky and the farther we went, the higher the banks became over our heads. Soon, we were walking along in what amounted to a little canyon underneath the triple canopy with the banks of the stream 5 or 6 feet above our head. I was REALLY getting nervous about that because if we ran into any dinks, there was nowhere to run.
The file stopped and the word to be quiet and be watchful passed back. When we started moving again, I came around a little bend in the creek and saw what caused that warning. It was a fighting position built into the bank of the creek….accessible from INSIDE the bank! There was a tunnel in the back of it and it was NOT in a state of disrepair. From there on, there was a similar position guarding every bend in the creek for a hundred meters or so. The pucker factor went WAY up for us all.
When we finally climbed out of the creek, we found ourselves in the middle of the biggest bunker complex I ever saw. There were dozens of bunkers, numerous tunnel openings and I don’t doubt hundreds of spider holes covered with woven, grass mats. It was so big that it disappeared into the gloom of the jungle across that hillside. And the vegetation they’d used for camouflage was fresh. Too fresh for it to be an abandoned base camp. There was room for at least 1000 dinks and there were only 7 or 8 of us!
The 500 lb bomb was buried right in the middle of it all, sticking up out of the ground. The LT wisely decided to leave it alone and for us to get the hell out of there as quickly and as quietly as we could. At one point, I’d been sent to the other side of the creek to keep a watch and was alone with dozens and dozens of spider holes right at my feet. Didja ever get that feeling that somebody’s eyes were on you? Boy, I sure did. I was scared shitless. So was everybody else. It was a long and scary trip back down that creek. When we got back to the little clearing, I think the LT reported that we couldn’t find the bomb and let it go at that. If he’d told them what we’d found, they probably would have ordered us to assault it and that would’ve meant the end of us all.
Regarding the Chieu Hoi we had for a guide to the “arms cache.” He had given up or been captured less than a week before. Whoever was in charge of him sent him out to us in a brand new US uniform, jungle boots, ruck sack and,believe it or not, a brand new M-16 complete with a bandolier of ammo. We thought he might be a little new to the forces of democracy to be completely trustworthy and thought the M-16 might be a little premature. SSG Cosby solved that problem by carrying his firing pin in his own pocket.
His name wasn’t Vinh, was it? And, was he gay? I ask because we had a guy like that with us for part of the last operation in Antenna Valley…until he came up “missing” one night. 😉
Re: being in somebody’s sights. Somebody got a NVA Chieu Hoi who claimed he knew where an arms cache was. We got the honor of escorting him to the location. We left Antenna Valley on the best trail I’d seen in Nam and went up into the Que Son Mountains. Once in the mountains we came to an open area about 30 yards across and who knows how long. We went across one at a time and it was spooky. I was about the sixth man across. It was dead quiet, no birds, no monkeys, nothing but my feet in the mud and water. There were water buffalo tracks so fresh water was still running into them. I seldom carried my rifle off of safe but for that stretch it was on full auto. I felt like I was on stage but just couldn’t see the audience. Nothing happened but it seemed like a long walk across. The rest of the platoon came over, one at a time and we moved on to the “arms cache.” We found a bunch of .51 cal belted ammo and a broken radio. I still have a round of .51 and a spooky memory. I don’t remember how we came back down that day. We didn’t make contact so we had a happy ending that time.
I don’t know about everyone else, but the experience has allowed me to be grateful for even the smallest, most insignificant conveniences. When you’ve been down to living like a yard dog with nothing more than you can carry on your back, even having a little comfort is wonderful.
Conversely, it’s made me more than a little intolerant of the whiners who moan when they have to drink cool water instead of cold water, or when they don’t have the latest X-box game or the newest phone or flashiest car or the biggest house or when some service person doesn’t jump to meet their slightest want. I want to take such spoiled little brats by the throat and say, “Come here, moron. Let me tell you about what’s it’s like to have nothing but the certainty of imminent death.” Or course, they wouldn’t get it.
One more thing: Since Vietnam, I’ve had no great desire to camp out again. LOL
For me the sense of everyone looking out for everyone else made a sense of family that was really sincere. It made for a pretty secure little island in an ocean of no security. Good leadership, whether at company or platoon level, made all the difference. It had a big bearing on our confidence in our unit and our ability to handle whatever. It really was life at its most basic. Food, shelter and self preservation. When little things like a warm coke or a morning smoke and C-ration coffee are special you know life is not too complex. I miss or at least value the memory of all that stuff.
bill–being there for the march booy traps–yes i`ve wondered–2feet away–maybe i would have caught the shrapnel tiny got.. the 28 march-bouncing betty–could have lost an eye-or worse. many of us have the similar. as for being nuts–being a grunt should answer that.
gary–yes an adventure like we never before or since have had. yes–a fellowship only grunts will know.
LT–the pucker factor has enabled some of us to crack walnuts with our rectums.
still pondering the “don`t mean nothin” saying.
To the question of ‘missing it’, I just want to add a few comments ……..I believe it’s all based on Leadership. Our War will end up being known as the worst managed conflict in American history. Not a news flash, but my best memories come from when we had great leadership in a bad situation. We weren’t gonna win the War as a company, but I am able to endear some positive accomplishments when we were under quality leadership. Of course there was the other side of that coin, and I just thank God we had a good side. I guess I’m saying I really miss the ability to do the whole thing right, under top to bottom quality leadership. Kinda like what Powell and Schwartzkoff were able to do in Desert Storm.
I miss the sense of belonging to something larger than myself. I miss the fellowship of the bush (bet you never heard it described that way! LOL). I miss the adventure.
Other than that? No. It’s like what I tell people today who thank me for my service: “You’re welcome…but don’t hold your breath for me to do it again.”
Some small portions of it like stand downs but not the majority of the time! The constant pucker factor was hard on the rectum!
Guys, think about this before you reply , and be very honest with yourselves. DO YOU MISS IT?
OK, here is a question for you guys that I have had for years. Did you ever wonder how many times you may have escaped being killed or wounded during your tour that you were unaware of? Like walking a trail and a sniper had you in his sights but did not want to take on the fire power of the whole company. Search & destroy of a village and not touching a booby trap item, etc. Or am I just nuts?
No, you’re not nuts. Lee Corman and I have talked about that many times. We really don’t know how many times somebody has us right in their sights and for whatever reason, didn’t pull the trigger.
Only God knows that and only God knows why we were spared and others weren’t.
And, it’s not just us. I could relate more than one instance where a dink or group of sinks walked away unharmed without ever knowing how close they came. Y’all probably can too.
Not Nuts. But you will never know and so I hope it doesn’t worry you.
I have not yet got around to thinking of the escapes I was unaware of, as I’m still dealing with the escapes that I was aware of, the times that might easily have gone another way. For one example: When the booby trap trip wire rusted out and broke and so didn’t set off the 105 round. I didn’t journal much, so I can never tell you the date but I sure do remember it clearly
Gary Capshaw’s writings have inspired me to try to write that story and I hope that I’m at least a quarter of a good story teller as he is. Thanks for posting them.
Thanks for the kind words, and do write something, even it’s not a great work of literature. It will help you and your kids and grandkids will want to know. When we die, our stories die with us unless we’ve put it on paper somewhere.
Gary, you struck a nerve for sure but I think it’s a good thing not a bad one. Some guys need to open up and this is a great place to do that. Everyone here understands and no one will be critical. We all have been through the same thing (at different times) and can open up about feelings which for the most part are similar. I think that is why some have a difficult time going to reunions. I went to my first 196 reunion in 1992. I was very hesitant about going because I didn’t know what to expect and wasn’t sure of my own emotions. I wish I could attend everyone of them but time and money is a deterrent. That is why I encourage everyone on this page, the 196th and Americal to go one. Am I wandering here or does this make sense?
No, it makes perfect sense. One of the greatest things about reunions is that you find that you’re not alone. All those feelings and emotions you thought were yours and yours alone, turn out to be virtually universal. That’s a great comfort.
Amen Bill. We all have regrets in life and things we are all ashamed of but God’s grace is eternal. He has picked all of us up at one time or another and dusted us off and sent us on just as any loving father does. Doesn’t mean we’re perfect just forgiven.
Guys,
As a retired Methodist Pastor here is my sermon. The one thing I am certain of is my salvation and forgiveness by my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. It is this faith and hope that saw me through Vietnam and sees me through this life. A sinner I was but my sins are forgiven. Doesn’t mean I don’t think about what I have done then or do now but I am picked up, dusted off and sent off to keep trying to be a better person.
Amen, Brother. Me too. But, that doesn’t mean I don’t think about it.
The hardest one to forgive is probably ourself.
LT,
Think of Dan often. We are giving some serious thought of coming to Michigan for the reunion and stopping on the way up in Chicago and spending a day with Lori and visiting Dan’s grave.
Sitting here tonight thinking of Dan Roczniak. RIP brother!