Authors: Alan Maki
For Gary Smith, it was Explosive Ordnance Disposal (EOD). As he recounts his experiences, I am reminded of an old “axiom”—the only thing crazier than a Navy SEAL is a Navy EOD man.
Today all the special operations forces of the Army, Navy, and Air Force are funded and prepared for combat under the U.S. Special Operations Command, an organization headed by a four-star general. SEALs are a firmly entrenched, well-respected, well-funded, and properly employed part of that command, as demonstrated by their recent successes in Desert Storm and Somalia. SEALs have reached that point because of superb men like Gary Smith.
Master Chief is
a SEALs book that will be enjoyed by all.
Robert A. Gormly
Capt. USN
Chula Vista, California
16 August 1994
Graduating from Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training in the 1960s was a heady experience, and receiving one’s first orders to SEAL Team 1 only added to the swelling pride and excitement. Life as a new SEAL soon became a never-ending cycle of days and nights of intense
training punctuated by long periods of profound intoxication and brief periods of slumber. It was in that tumultuous atmosphere of excellence and expectation that I first met Radioman Second Class Gary Smith.
I don’t believe that Gary remembers our first meeting, since he was acting leading petty officer of the electronics shop and I was just an FNG seaman assigned for field day. (The NG in FNG stands for “new guy.”) I remember our brief meeting because even then I had been told that Smitty knew what he was doing and did not suffer fools gladly. I kept my mouth shut and cleaned the ET space the best way I knew how, because I wanted the respect of men like Smith.
There was no way that either of us could have known then how our lives would subsequently touch, nor the heights of pleasure and depths of pain that we were to share.
Our paths briefly crossed during my first commissioned tour at SEAL Team 1, and it was then that I first recognized just how valuable a good chief could be to a young ensign. Our commanding officer at the time was, to put it charitably, not operationally oriented. As the team ordnance officer, I had been directed to conduct a type of demolition training for the team that I felt was unsafe (because of the close proximity of a naval-dependent housing area to our practice range). Smitty had just reported to the ordnance department as our chief petty officer, and I was discussing my concerns with him when he gave me kind of a disgusted look and said “OP [Ordnance Publication] Five, Volume Two.” I eventually got him to explain that that publication lists minimum safe distances for explosive detonations, and even to show me where to find them. My concerns were well-founded, and while the CO wasn’t very happy, at least we didn’t kill any dependents.
Smitty served me well in two other tours. First as my
assistant training officer at Underwater Demolition Team 12, and again when I was air operations officer at Naval Special Warfare Group 1. For some three years we ran platoons through weapons, tactics, diving, and parachuting courses, enjoying life to the fullest. A winter exercise in Alaska gave us the opportunity to ski and snowshoe. Designations as range officers gave us weekend access to the Special Warfare rifle range where we spent most Sunday mornings. Hunting seasons found us with rifles and rucksacks, heading into some of the best wilderness areas in southern California.
As I look back on twenty-seven years of naval service, I can count on one hand the number of men who have impressed me as much as Smitty, and there were none who impressed me in the same way. He was a consummate technician in every field of Special Warfare expertise, a strong leader, a loyal subordinate, and one of the best friends a man could ever have. I can personally attest to the truth of what he says in
Master Chief
, although I can also attest to the fact that he left out much of the bad that happened. Perhaps that is as it should be, and it’s definitely Gary Smith.
Loren E. Decker
Comdr. USNR
Waco, Texas
27 October 1994
Master Chief
covers some of my experiences as the LPO (Leading Petty Officer—E-6) of SEAL Team 1’s November Platoon in Dinh Tuong province, Vietnam, 1971. It was my fifth and last tour in Vietnam.
My remaining years with SEAL Team 1 and Underwater Demolition Team 12 were spent deploying twice more to WESTPAC (Western Pacific) and attending many schools; that is, EOD (Explosive Ordnance Disposal) School, U.S. Army Sergeants Major Academy, Radioman B School, and Instructor School. My responsibilities varied from CMAA (Chief Master at Arms), Assistant Training Officer, Acting Command Master Chief, Ordnance Chief, Air Department Chief, and Cadre Inspector. In November ’81 I was assigned to EOD Detachment Whidbey Island, Washington, until my retirement in ’84.
I consider it a privilege and honor to pass on a small portion of the history of the U.S. Navy and my experiences as a Special Warfare and EOD technician. Admittedly, many of my opinions are biased in one form or another; however, my goal has been to tell the story of how I perceived issues at that time. All of my SpecWar and EOD mates and myself were arrogant to one degree or another and were fond of saying, “It’s hard to be humble when you know you’re the best.” Many of my perceptions, however, have changed over the years—for
the better, I hope. I’ve tried to accurately describe the good and the bad and to be subjective or objective at the appropriate times. Toward the end of my Navy career I began to understand that many times the worst enemy I had to face was myself, as we
all
are our worst enemy at one time or another. Some folks call that the beginning of maturity and wisdom. There were several times that I felt the need for a wise SpecWar/EOD friend/counselor/mentor, but for whatever reasons, they were rare or simply not available. I would like to recommend to today’s SpecWar and EOD Groups to be more sensitive to these needs in the future, if they haven’t already.
I’m very thankful for having had the privilege and honor of serving with some of the best-trained and most highly motivated personnel in the world. If you’re sick and tired of living a tax-burdened, besotted, proletarian or bourgeois lifestyle, I highly recommend a career in Special Warfare and/or EOD—
if
you can qualify and if you can survive the training. You’ll never regret it. However, be advised, I spent approximately seventy percent of my career away from home. This is a very difficult career for a married man and a Christian! Frankly, a career in Special Warfare may be, over the long haul, counterproductive and inadvisable for a married man or a Christian, as this book in some ways proves.
Some of the names have been left incomplete and/or changed to protect those who are still living or serving with civilian or military intelligence information-collection agencies or units.
The missions and events of my fifth and last tour in Vietnam in ’71 with SEAL Team 1’s November Platoon are true. I kept a detailed diary throughout my ’71 tour in preparation for this book, and had the benefit of letters that my mom and dad saved. The conversations are not always verbatim, but represent the typical dialogue and
interaction between me and my teammates, friends, and others who were an important part of my naval career.
The second portion of this book continues chronologically and highlights specific accounts that I have chosen to record and pass on to the past, present, and future generations of all branches of EOD and Special Warfare warriors.
My name is Gary R. Smith. This is my first book as the sole author.
A lot of water had gone under the bridge since I graduated from high school in 1960. My short stint in college taught me the value of diligent study, even though I hadn’t done much of it. Working in North Texas in construction, oil fields, and ranching before I enlisted in the Navy taught me that I wanted something more out of life—I wanted adventure, not drudgery.
In 1964 Navy boot camp taught me responsibility, discipline, and a combination of respect for and fear of authority. UDT Training the following year gave me confidence in my virtually unlimited physical and mental capabilities and taught me the necessity of teamwork and the rewards of hard work and commitment. I also began to understand the power of encouragement and loyalty—two of the foundation stones of motivation and camaraderie.
My first tour to Vietnam, in 1966–67, with the UDT-12’s 4th Platoon, introduced me to combat, tested my resolve, and gave me experience with and appreciation for my teammates, as well as a stronger love for and allegiance to my great country. I learned that courage is the will to control my fear regardless of the circumstances and the act of faithfully obeying my orders.
My second tour to Vietnam, in 1967–68, seasoned me with the exhilaration, disappointments, and tragedies of combat, and the sorrow of losing a close friend. I began to
understand the wisdom of listening carefully; in silence, understanding comes.
My third tour to Vietnam, in ’69 as a PRU (Provincial Reconnaissance Unit) adviser, taught me how to be a better follower and introduced me to the administrative and operational responsibilities of leadership—through advising and leading combat-hardened Vietnamese, Cambodian, and Chinese PRUs without offending, and in organizing and executing helicopter assault operations. As I began to understand the differences between political conservatives and liberals, it didn’t take me long to deduce that I was a conservative, spiritually and politically. I proudly voted for Mr. Nixon to be the next President of my great country. It was also during those times when the team personnel’s families began receiving threatening and harassing phone calls from the antiwar, anti-God, anti-family, pro-drug, and pro-Communist traitors. Those phone calls to our families continued throughout the war.
My fourth tour to Vietnam, in 1970, awakened my anger toward the liberal news media’s lies, half-truths, and innuendos against the war in Vietnam and toward the liberal politicians who supported them. I simply couldn’t understand their beguiling and treasonous attitudes. I especially hated their use of the power of innuendo—there was little chance of defense, vindication, or justice for the falsely impugned. Because I was a conservative, I despised the liberal long-haired college students, draft dodgers, and hippies for what they stood for and for who they were—knowingly or unknowingly—serving, and for their lack of patriotism, and their outright sabotage of the war effort.
The political left’s hidden agendas and the liberal student demonstrations
against
democracy and freedom and proclamations
for
Marxist tyranny and encouragement
to
the North Vietnamese military and political machines sickened me. I especially felt betrayed when they carried
the Viet Cong and North Vietnamese flags during their demonstrations. Sadly, during those years, men in uniform were not safe on the streets or highways of America.
By the time I began my fifth tour in Vietnam, in 1971, I found it difficult to deal with the politics that were thrust upon the military in Vietnam and the political and social situation in my country. The news media continued to insist that we were losing the war, when in fact we had been kicking the hell out of the Viet Cong and the North Vietnamese war machines all along, and with one hand tied behind our backs. In spite of President Johnson’s having forbidden U.S. forces to seek and destroy the VC/NVA main force divisions decisively beyond the borders of South Vietnam to Laos, Cambodia, and North Vietnam, and limiting our tactical objectives within South Vietnam (to my knowledge there has never been a war won by defensive tactics and with limited objectives), we managed to inflict such heavy casualties on the Communist forces during their Tet and other offensives that they were forced to withdraw to lick their wounds time and again.
Sadly, in October 1968 President Johnson stopped all bombing against North Vietnam. His decision opened the door for the infiltration of several divisions of North Vietnamese combat troops and massive supplies into the South Vietnamese highlands and remote delta areas, eventually resulting in some of the war’s worst battles within South Vietnam. The consequences were dreadful increases of U.S., Allied, and South Vietnamese civilian and military dead and wounded. Interestingly, President Johnson and his Democratic Congress initiated their massive Great Society social welfare programs during that same year.
That the soldier is but the servant of the statesman, as war is but the instrument of diplomacy, no educated soldier will deny. Politics must always
exercise an extreme influence on strategy; but it cannot be gainsaid that interference with the commanders in the field is fraught with the gravest danger.
—Colonel George F. R. Henderson,
“Stonewall Jackson,” 1898
On January 20, 1969, Mr. Nixon became President. He wisely listened to the advice of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Dr. Henry Kissinger, MACV (U.S. Military Assistance Command Vietnam), the CIA, and others, and soon ordered U.S. forces to go on the offensive outside the boundaries of South Vietnam in accordance with the established political and military objectives.
On May 1, 1970, MACV executed a raid that penetrated nineteen miles inside Cambodia. The military objective was to attack and destroy the North Vietnamese COSVN (Central Office for South Vietnam), divisional base areas, and immense supply depots that had historically supported all VC/NVA strikes on Saigon and surrounding areas. The political objective was to support Cambodia’s prime minister, Lon Nol, and the National Assembly that had overthrown Prince Sihanouk on March 18, 1970. Because of President Nixon’s decisive leadership, it was not surprising that the offensive had a psychological effect on both sides of the fence. The morale of the U.S., South Vietnamese, and Allied armed forces skyrocketed (especially mine) during that invasion, resulting in increased confidence in the military and political objectives.
In spite of the liberals’, leftists’, and draft-dodging students’ antiwar movement at home, President Nixon performed well as commander in chief of the armed forces. Lest it be forgotten, President Nixon honorably served his country during the Second World War as a naval officer. Because of his loyalty and service to his country, he’ll
always be one of my American heroes. Unfortunately, according to Phillip B. Davidson in
Vietnam at War
, “Hanoi’s
dich van
program [action among the enemy people] was working well in the United States.” In other words, the North Vietnamese were winning their Marxist war through turncoat professors in our universities, leftists, draft dodgers, and self-serving politicians and media.