Last Man Out (27 page)

We returned to the base camp later that week. Bob had a calendar above his cot. In seventy-six days we would be eligible for rotation, after being in-country for one full year. That night in the makeshift battalion officers club, I sat with Dunn, Duckett, and Bradley at a rear table. Bradley, a replacement, would be around for several more months. Duckett’s convalescence time counted toward his year, and he would rotate home with Bob and me.

We were talking about what we would do when we got back to the States when Dunn mentioned that Colonel Haldane was returning to the States through Europe.

Bradley said we all could. Any active-duty person could book passage on a scheduled round-the-world U.S. Air Force charter called the Embassy Flight. It was used primarily by Defense Department attachés, diplomatic personnel, and couriers, but seats were available for military personnel with legitimate reasons for travel, like us. He suggested that the three of us try to go home on Air Force One, like Haldane.

In our typical, grateful fashion, we told him he was full of shit: Haldane’s a colonel. We’re second lieutenants. There’s a little difference there.

“Fine,” he said, “don’t believe me. But the next time you’re in Saigon, go to the Travel Section at the U.S. Embassy, and ask about seats on Air Force One.”

Dunn, intent on getting back to Linda in California on the fastest plane going, had no interest in traveling through Europe. But Duckett and I liked the idea, we just didn’t think it was available.

Later that week, Haldane authorized in-country R&R and Duckett and I took off for Saigon.

We stopped off at division headquarters on the way down and I
sought out a friend of Crash’s at the Administration Section, and we asked him about our exact departure-from-Vietnam date and orders.

“Ah,” he said, “the magic ticket. DEROS orders. The Date of Estimated Return from OverSeas orders. Very, very valuable. The keys to heaven. You don’t leave Nam without it. I have yours here. Burke told me you were on the way and to look after you, so I have taken the liberty of running off a couple of extra copies for both of you.”

I was authorized to leave 13 September 1966. Joe was authorized to leave on the fourteenth. Signed, stamped, mimeographed, in duplicate, everything. Legal. Some people didn’t get their orders until the day they left, and we had ours two months early. Crash Burke, I thought, you and your friend are very good people.

On the afternoon of 2 July, we were standing in front of the Marine guard post by the main entrance to the U.S. Embassy in Saigon. Throngs of people were coming and going. We felt out of place. We looked out of place. Our uniforms, though clean, were not starched and tailored like others that we saw, and we were leaner than most military personnel on the streets of Saigon. I had a funny steel-pot tan—my forehead white and my cheeks tanned. And we must have looked unsure of ourselves.

The Marine said that the Travel Section was in a Quonset hut to the side of the embassy building. Walking along tentatively, we stepped out of the way when busy embassy people hurried by us. A Vietnamese receptionist in the front of the Quonset hut did not act surprised when we asked about signing up for the Air Force One flight on 14 September. She gave us some forms to fill out and a mimeographed sheet explaining what was required—DEROS orders, passport, military ID, uniform while traveling. Although I was authorized to leave 13 September, we decided that I would stay over in Saigon until the fourteenth so we could leave together. We finished filling out the forms and were directed to an Air Force sergeant in a rear room. He said everything looked in order. We nodded.

“What’s this going to cost?” I asked.

“Nothing,” the sergeant said.

“That’s it, then?” I said, still not sure that this was for real.

The sergeant looked at me hard, curious about my hesitation. “Let me see your DEROS orders again,” he said.

He examined the one I offered for a moment, shrugged, and said, “Everything’s all right. You two are the first signing up for the fourteenth, and unless something extraordinary happens and you get bumped a day, that is when you’ll be on your way to Europe.”

We left the embassy in a more confident manner.

We went to Tu Do Street in downtown Saigon and had some photos taken for our passport applications. That night we practiced our international barroom skills. We liked the feel of being out together. Duckett was six-feet-four and I was six-feet-two. Maybe it was the look in our eyes from our experiences in the field, maybe it was our size and our smiles, but people treated us with deference. When we walked into bars, people noticed us. And we had Europe right down the road. Hold on continent, here we come.

In the coffee shop of our hotel the next morning we heard that Tan Son Nhut airfield had been bombed during the night. Rockets had landed in the departure area and killed several 1st Cav soldiers who were due to leave country that day. After surviving a year of combat, they were killed in their sleep in the departure area in Saigon, the night before they left country.

“Fortunes of war,” Duckett said.

“Yeah, and I ain’t staying one more night here than I have to, my friend. I’m leaving on the thirteenth. I’ll meet you in Bangkok or Europe or Philly, but I ain’t staying here one extra night.”

We went back to the Air Force sergeant and I made the change without a problem. Duckett and I would meet in Bangkok, Thailand, 14 September; depart on Air Force One on the fifteenth for New Delhi, India, where we would overnight; and then go on to Afghanistan, Athens, and Madrid. We were on our own there to rent a car for a drive up to Germany, where we could get a military hop to the east coast of the U.S.A.

On our return from Saigon we found the battalion going through familiar preparations for another field operation. Two days later, Haldane asked the entire battalion staff to division
headquarters for a briefing. Representatives from every battalion in the three brigades were on hand.

Dunn and I stood at the rear of the room before the briefing and greeted other staff officers whom we had met previously. Colonel Haldane was talking with the cavalry commander, Col. Leonard L. Lewane. When Haldane went to the front of the room, Dunn and I asked Lewane about Slippery Clunker Six. The colonel said that call signs had been changed, but the man whom we knew as Clunker Six had volunteered to lead this new operation.

After Col. Sidney B. Berry Jr., the 1st Brigade commander, took the stage, an officer called us to attention as General DePuy walked in through a side entrance and up the stairs to the stage. Speaking in a surprisingly strong voice, his comments went something like this: “In this war, we have to kill more of the enemy than they kill of us in order to win. It’s that simple. It is a war of attrition. They try to get us; we try to get them. They have advantages we don’t have; we have things they don’t have. The monsoon weather has been on their side for the last three months, and they have operated in some of our area with impunity. We haven’t been able to use our Air Force, our cavalry gets stuck, rivers are swollen, men get foot rot. But the rains are almost over, replacements are in, we know where the enemy is, we know his weaknesses, and we are going on the offense. We are going to use our advantages, and we are going to kill a lot of the enemy. And we are going to win. I have worked on this next operation with Colonel Berry, and it is good. We have borrowed from the Air Force, the Navy, and the Marines, and all the U.S. Army units around us, and we have all we need.” He paused. “Now it’s up to you. Be tough. Be aggressive. Do your job. This is the 1st Infantry Division. We have a reputation to live up to.” He paused again. “I’ll turn the briefing over to Colonel Berry. I want all battalion commanders to remain after the briefing and join me for lunch.”

General DePuy left the stage. Colonel Berry pulled aside a curtain behind him to show a map blowup of the area along the Cambodian border north of Parrot’s Beak. The following is a paraphrase of what the colonel told us that day:

“Because we are not allowed to attack the Vietnamese inside
Laos and Cambodia, they have developed, as you know, a highway that originates in North Vietnam and comes all the way down, inside first Laos and then Cambodia, to this area, north of the Parrot’s Beak, here [pointing to map] northwest of Saigon. At the terminus is their forward field headquarters, called COSVN.

“The VC unit that operates between COSVN and Saigon is the 272d Regiment of the 9th Division. Because of our operations in January near Cu Chi, 272d Regiment forces do not stay inside South Vietnam for very long now. They move across the border, attack a target, and move back to their base sanctuaries in Cambodia.

“During the recent monsoon rains, elements of the 272d Regiment came into South Vietnam to attack American and ARVN positions in the following locations.” He used his pointer to indicate a dozen points on the map.

“I now call your attention to this area.” Berry replaced the first map with a map showing the South Vietnam/Cambodia border to the left and Highway 13 dissecting the center. On Highway 13, at the top of the map, was the town of Loc Ninh; farther down was the town of An Loc. Near An Loc was a spur road running west toward the South Vietnam/Cambodia border and ending at the Minh Thanh rubber plantation. At the bottom of the map was the Ho Bo woods and the town of Cu Chi. “During the rains, the Viet Cong attacked Loc Ninh three or four days a week. It was difficult to give the Special Forces unit there fire support, and it was difficult to airlift in supplies. We dropped ammunition and food when we could, but the enemy located rockets in close and our resupply planes had to fly high when they dropped. Fifty percent of our supplies landed outside of the wire and were recovered by the enemy.

“These two engagements,” he pointed to two marks along the road, “were the result of Quarterhorse efforts to open the road into Loc Ninh. On 8 June, Troop A of the 1st/4th Cavalry was ambushed by elements of the 272d here south of An Loc, and, on 30 June, Troop C with the 1st of the 2d Infantry conducted a reconnaissance in force and engaged elements of the 271st Regiment here south of Loc Ninh. The Quarterhorse, as some of you know who participated, took heavy casualties but killed close to four hundred VC.

“The VC 272d Regiment has been hurt but not destroyed, and we think it will engage our units operating in this area again, if it has a chance. We want to give them that chance. We have told local Army of South Vietnam forces—for the sake of the known VC agents in their ranks—that, on 9 July, we are going to send a convoy composed of an engineer bulldozer and several supply trucks from An Loc to Minh Thanh. We expect word to reach the VC 272d Regiment and we expect they will ambush this convoy for its supplies. They think it will be lightly guarded, and it will be traveling down a road only ten miles from their sanctuaries in Cambodia.

“What we will send down the Minh Thanh road on 9 July will be Task Force Dragoon, commanded by Colonel Lewane. It will be composed of Troops B, C, and D of the 1st/4th Cav, augmented with Company B, 1st/2nd Infantry Battalion. Plus, on standby, we are going to have three heliborne battalions of infantry and all available artillery and Air Force/Marine fast movers waiting to spring a counterambush—a vertical counterambush.

“This is Operation El Paso II. We’re going to have a deception move on D day minus 1 to put the standby infantry and the artillery in position at LZs near the road. ARVN units will be told this deployment is for a sweep south toward Cu Chi, a goodly distance away from Minh Thanh. Artillery will be deployed at the same time to colocate with the infantry in the staging areas.

“At 0530 on D day, the three battalions with artillery will move from their deception ops staging areas to launch positions. These launch positions, which are within artillery range, are located here, here, and here.” He pointed to three points on the map in the vicinity of the Minh Thanh road.

“At 0700 D day, Task Force Dragoon will depart An Loc. There will be radio silence except necessary communications between Colonel Lewane in the command and control [C&C] helicopter and the lead elements of the task force. We have established checkpoints on the road; please mark them on your maps. The first, at the intersection of the spur road and Route 13, is Checkpoint John. Approximately four miles farther is Checkpoint Gordon. Four miles farther is Hank, then Dick, and finally Tom, four miles from the Minh Thanh plantation.

“If—when—the VC 272d Regiment takes the bait, the artillery will begin immediate fire. They will be tracking the movement of the convoy—turning their tubes as they get location reports—and when the VC bite, they will lay down a blanket of fire on the south side of the road. The fast movers will be on station. They will drop napalm and high-explosive ordnance on the north side of the road. Artillery has the south. Task Force Dragoon has the inside. The cavalry will sustain a high volume of fire during the counterambush; they will not split up; they will use flamethrowers—their Zippos—as offensive weapons. We will have the first flight of infantry counterambush forces on the ground within ten minutes to relieve pressure on Task Force Dragoon and to mop up along the sides of the road. We will put one battalion of infantry in blocking positions near the Cambodian border.

“If the VC 272d takes the bait, we will destroy them.”

In outlining the responsibilities of the various units, Colonel Berry said that the 1st/28th Infantry Battalion would be the first to respond if the ambush was sprung at checkpoint Dick or Tom, near the Minh Thanh rubber plantation.

There was a flurry of movement by groups of officers as each unit’s responsibilities were announced. Many had questions.

“Before I take your questions,” Berry said, “the deputy division commander has something to say. Sir,” he nodded to a one-star general at the side of the stage.

Gen. James F. Hollingsworth rose and picked up a pointer from the map board.

“We are going to kill gooks in this operation,” he promised us. “We’re going to take some casualties. Goddammit, it’s a war. But I don’t want the war to stop when we take casualties. We don’t have time.” He said each word in the last sentence slowly, loudly. “We gotta keep going, like a good fighter, we keep going. These son’bitches are going to be surprised all to hell. We don’t get ’em like that often. We will be in control, and goddammit I want to think we’re pushing a mean pointed stick out there against those son’bitches. Get your men ready, get ’em mean. There are times to go slowly, and there are times to lock and load—kick ass. This is that time, won’t be a long period. Gotta get in there fast and move fast. Kill fast. The ambush could take place less than ten
miles from a line we cannot cross. That doesn’t give us much time to muck around. Don’t stop because one of your men gets hurt. Press on. Leave a medic behind or a guard and push on. Those son’bitches aren’t going to stay around long.”