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Authors: Alan Maki

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August sixth was a fun day. Lieutenant Fletcher, Same, interpreter Hoan, and I went to the Seawolf helo pad with one case—72 rounds—of 40mm HE, fifty 40mm para flares, fifteen M-18A1 claymore mines, hand grenades, pop flares, smoke grenades, and two M-72 LAAWs. A Navy Sea Lord picked us up at Dong Tam and dropped the four of us off near Ba To’s hamlet at 1300.

After the usual courtesies and respectful bowing, Ba To and his hamlet defense personnel were absolutely ecstatic about the ordnance that we had brought him and his men. Their hamlet was overdue for an attack from the VC; Ba To knew it, and so did we.

Later, Ba To told us that the local VC District Civilian Proselytizing section had been telling the nearby Vietnamese people how to corrupt the upcoming government elections in October. They must have been trained by the Democrats back home, I thought. I later wrote a SEAL intelligence report on Ba To’s information.

When the Sea Lord returned to pick us up at 1345, I slipped Ba To his last month’s pay as an agent handler—8,000 piasters—in a sealed envelope and handed him a bottle of French cognac. That day was a good one for Ba To and his clan. They had enough ammunition to fight off a VC attack for at least one night and a bottle of encouragement for the twilight hours.

The Navy slick dropped Same and me off at Dong Tam while Dai Uy and Hoan went on a VR of the upper Cai Be district. I spent the rest of that afternoon and evening
working on intel reports, OB card files, and so on, before I called it quits.

During the morning of August seventh, I worked on intel files, took pictures of our Kit Carson scouts for their dossiers, and later drove to My Tho to visit with Al and Jake at the Embassy House. There, I inquired about Tuoi’s imprisonment and status with MSS. Afterward, I stopped by PSB to see Chief Hue. I passed him some information that we had received from one of our agents about the exact location of a VC My Tho sapper. I also requested one PSB operative to accompany Mr. Kleehammer on his river op that night. Chief Hue was very happy to support us and handed me the name-trace results of our two hootch maids. As it turned out, one of the hootch maids had been arrested in May of ’68 and imprisoned for six months for working with and for the VC. I later approached her and asked her why she hadn’t mentioned this in her past-history statement. She gave me a confusing story about how the VC had killed her husband and then coerced her into serving the Marxist cause. In that light, I didn’t bother to question her any further. I later briefed the platoon to be very careful in all that we said in the presence of the hootch maids or the Kit Carson scouts and never to allow any Vietnamese in our intelligence room.

After lunch, Commander Del Guidice, Lieutenant Morrow, and Lieutenant (jg) Antrim of the SpecWar staff spent the afternoon inspecting and quizzing November Platoon. I briefed Commander Del Guidice and Lieutenant Morrow on
all
of our intelligence activities. They seemed properly impressed. Lieutenant Morrow was especially thoughtful and encouraging.

The next morning, August eighth, Dai Uy received word that our CBU-55B FAE (Fuel Air Explosive) bomb op for that afternoon and the following day had been cancelled
because we had no fuses. However, Fletcher wasn’t easily discouraged.

Later, Eberle, Tam, the PSB operative, and I drove to My Tho to take care of myriad administrative details. After we had dropped off the PSB fellow, Eberle, Tam, and I drove down to the My Tho riverfront and bought fresh papaya and coconut drinks mixed with raw sugar. I also ate a large papaya. All three items cost me 250 P, or less than a dollar. We returned to Dong Tam by the river road, which was a little more dangerous but much shorter than the roundabout route.

The rest of the afternoon I piddled with my field gear, worked out with weights, and played horseshoes with the guys until we were rained out. After supper, at 1945, Dai Uy gave the warning order for the next day’s helo operations. We were to utilize one Sea Lord for insertions and extractions and two Seawolves for gunship support. The Seawolves would be guiding us to numerous VC/NVA targets that were located in the southern edges of the Plain of Reeds—the NVA’s major infiltration route from North Vietnam into the South Vietnamese III and IV Corps Tactical Zones. We were to fly to the northwestern half of Cai Lay district, near the abandoned My Phuoc Tay strategic village that was south of the King Tong Doc Loc canal and west of the Kinh Cai Chuoi canal. Once enemy locations were identified, the Seawolves would prep the enemy’s position if needed and the Sea Lord slick would insert us. Depending on the enemy’s reaction, we would either assault or patrol to the target to begin our pillaging and burning. Those types of off-the-cuff missions were called “Parakeet” ops, or targets of opportunity. Parakeet ops were a lot of fun but were very risky because we were not always certain of our enemy’s strength or reactionary capabilities.

In 1970 a SEAL 1 squad was having great fun working with the Seawolves and Sea Lords on Parakeet ops near Sea
Float. On their last insertion of the day, the SEAL squad was inserted into a fairly large opening and were immediately taken under heavy small arms fire by a company-size VC unit that was not expected to be in the area. Worst of all, the enemy unit was well-hidden and camouflaged within a heavily fortified jungle area. One of the men in the SEAL squad took an AK-47 round (7.62×39mm) in the chest The projectile entered one side of his chest, traveled all the way around the inside of the rib cage and exited on the opposite side. Amazingly, the fellow survived the terrible wound, but no doubt his recovery was long and painful. It was also incredible that all members of the SEAL squad were eventually rescued, thanks to our airdale buddies of the Navy Seawolves, Black Ponies, and Sea Lords.

On the morning of August ninth, Fletcher gave us a warning order and I worked on field expedient antennas for our PRC-77 radios until lunch. At 1300 Dai Uy gave his PLO. Afterward the eight of us went to the helo pad and rehearsed until 1400 when our Navy slick arrived. All eight of us loaded our slicks, and I took my favorite spot on starboard side just aft of the pilot. I held onto the edge of the door and looked closely for enemy bunker complexes while we were flying over the Route 66 canal—Kinh Thuong Mai Di Song My Tho—to the northwestern corner of Cai Lay district, near the borders of Kien Phong and Kien Tuong provinces. We were only thirty to forty klicks south of the infamous “Parrot’s Beak” of Cambodia that stuck its nose into the interior of South Vietnam. The U.S. Army’s 25th Infantry Division, 196th Infantry Brigade, 1st Infantry Division, 173d Airborne Brigade, 11th Armored Cavalry Regiment, and others had shed a lot of blood fighting the infiltrating NVA in that area since ’65.

The Seawolves, who were leading the way, soon identified five hootch and bunker complexes. After Dai Uy
chose our first target, we inserted within fifty meters of the complex while the Seawolves circled overhead. Kit Carson scout Same Tam and I were points, and we moved into the hootches and bunkers once Dai Uy had the rest of the squad set on a frontal skirmish line for security and maximum firepower. The gunships also circled overhead as observers.

Tam led the way because he was an ex-VC sapper—he knew all of the VC’s tricks of the trade. I was amazed at how fast he moved toward the hootches and bunkers. He seemed to know just how fast to go and where he was going. In some ways he had a lot in common with some of my PRU buddies, who were ex-VC also. When we reached a bunker, Tam went past it and I threw a grenade into it. When we reached a hootch, I set it afire after Tam and I had gathered VC AK-47 magazines and other ammo. At times the going was very slow because of thick brush and potholes of water.

Those potholes of water were heavily polluted. If I drank any of it, I probably would be in the hospital within a few days. For the VC, however, it was only a small part of their occupational hazards. During my previous tours, it was common to see babies who were heavily infested with internal parasites and suffering from malnutrition. The hair on their heads was sparse, their stomachs were swollen, and their eyes were listless. Sometimes they were too weak to cry.

We extracted and inserted into a new area. However, that area was also very brushy, and it was hard to maneuver. Tam and I waded chest-deep in a small canal trying to find a trail leading to the hootches and bunkers, but we failed.

After Tam and I hooked up with Dai Uy and the rest of our squad again, we patrolled one hundred meters west to another hootch and bunker complex. We hadn’t gotten very far into the tree line when we saw VC signs saying
Bay no
, or booby trap. Lieutenant Fletcher decided it would be best to call in the Seawolves to clear the area of booby traps with miniguns and 2.75-inch rockets.

After the Seawolves made their strafing and rocket run, Tam and I went back in, crawling on our hands and knees. We hadn’t gotten far when we came upon one of the Seawolves 2.75 rockets that was still spewing and smoking. We moved by it very carefully, not knowing the condition of the warhead.

When we reached our first bunker, Tam just crawled by it without checking it. Once I got to it, I tossed in a minifrag grenade. Apparently, no one was home. I didn’t hear any screams or grunts, or smell blood.

We then came to a hootch that had Chinese and North Vietnamese grenades, AK-47 magazines, web gear, and cooking utensils lying around in disarray. I wondered where the little weasels were hiding and if they were watching us. Both of us then patrolled farther to two more hootches, where we found one dead VC, his AK-47 rifle and miscellaneous personal gear. I threw a CS grenade into another bunker. No one came out. Once Tam and I had burned the hootches, we patrolled out past the dud 2.75-inch rocket and back to 1st Squad. Dai Uy called for extraction.

We inserted twice more near hootch complexes. After we collected loot, threw grenades in the bunkers, and burned the hootches, Dai Uy called for extractions.

After he called for our last extraction, Dai Uy prepared to throw a smoke grenade to mark our position and give the Sea Lord pilot an indication of the wind direction. As he was throwing the grenade, it blew up in his hand, causing flesh damage and second-degree burns. His hand was a mess. Someone had installed an instantaneous explosive cap in the smoke grenade. We had taken that grenade out of a sealed container that had been packaged at the munitions factory.

“Thanks, Hanoi Jane,” I yelled in my frustration. I respected my VC and NVA adversaries; they were straightforward in carrying out a ruthless seizure of power and, as I saw it, enslavement. However, I had only contempt for those who worked deceitfully against my country at our expense; we were fighting against Marxism and for the freedom of the South Vietnamese people.

We finally returned to Dong Tam at 1830. There would be little partying that night. Everyone was tired, and Dai Uy’s hand was causing him a lot of pain and had to be cleaned and bandaged at the dispensary. It had been a good day, however. No one was badly hurt, the Seawolves had killed one VC that we knew of, and we had learned a few tricks of the trade and reinforced our ability in others. We were all ready for a hot meal, a shower, and a good night’s rest.

During the morning of August tenth, Hayden, Waneous, and Compton returned to Dong Tam from Nui Det. They brought with them five SAS mates to spend the next few weeks partying and operating with us. They were Sgt. Graham Brammer, L. Cpl. Dennis McCarthy, and troopers Bob Kilsby, Ian Lawrence, and Hartley Smithwick. We all spent the afternoon getting to know each other by telling war stories over a few beers. Unfortunately, Doc and I had to take the chief’s exam the following day so we didn’t get too carried away with our newfound mates.

The following morning, Senior Chief Bassett, Doc, and I caught a Sea Lord to Binh Thuy. After lunch we visited the EOD detachment and caught up on the latest scuttlebutt. PO1 Waterbury had an extra bunk in his room and suggested that I spend the night there. Doc and I spent most of the evening studying for the chief’s exam.

On the morning of August twelfth both of us took our exams. At 1300 Lieutenants Fletcher and Morrow arrived from Dong Tam to check on the possibility of using the
CBU-55B FAE bomb during the next few days. Dai Uy also said that we had been promised Sea Lords and Seawolves for the next day’s Parakeet ops.

At 1350 Lieutenant B. drove Doc, Dai Uy, and me to the Air America terminal near Can Tho. Our flight was very enjoyable and we arrived at the Binh Duc air field just west of My Tho in a little over a half hour. From there we bummed a ride to Dong Tam with an Aussie adviser.

At 2015 Tu Uy gave us our warning order for the next day’s Parakeet ops, which were to take place in the same area as on August ninth. I suggested that the Seawolves try to maintain the element of surprise by changing their initial tactics, swooping in low and fast to prep the targets as quickly as possible prior to our insertion. I explained that because we were striking VC positions near the same area as before, the VC would be wise to our tactics and have time to set up claymore mines and booby traps before our ground assault, if they hadn’t already. We already knew that the VC had a 2.75-inch rocket warhead to use as a booby trap or mine. I also suggested that if we went on any more Parakeet ops, we should operate in a different area and not set patterns. Dai Uy and Tu Uy thought that these were good ideas.

The dawn of August thirteenth was beautiful. I loved sunrises and sunsets. They were timeless and, somehow, always comforted me. Trung Uy and 2nd Squad were to go on morning Parakeet ops, and Chief Bassett and 1st Squad were to go on Parakeet ops later that afternoon.

Mr. Kleehammer was the patrol leader, and gave the PLO at 0715. Our SAS mates Sergeant Brammer, troopers Kilsby and Smithwick, came along with 2nd Squad—Chambo, Same, Waneous, Compton, Little Bear, and myself. We were at the helo pad by 0800, where we rehearsed basic SOPs until our Sea Lord slick arrived. By 0900 hours the slick was stuffed with ten happy, weak-in-the-upper-story
imbeciles, and headed for the infamous Plain of Reeds in northern Cai Lay district looking for trouble.

BOOK: Master Chief
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ads

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