Late in the afternoon I got word that a supply chopper was on the way in and I needed to get down to the pad. I grabbed my pack and M-16 rifle and made my way down to wait for my ride. Shortly, the Huey set down on the pad and I scrambled aboard. We lifted off, spun around and dropped down the side of the mountain into a narrow valley and quickly set down in the middle of Alpha company’s location. As I jumped to the ground, several enlisted men ran over and began unloading the cargo of supplies and the evening meal. I spotted some radios near a group of men in the center of the position and figured that must be the command location. I walked over and spotted the Captain insignia on the commander and reported in by identifying myself. He had a big smile as he welcomed me to the unit.

They had been informed that I would be arriving and he was happy to have a Forward Observer, or FO, after several weeks of not having one. He introduced me to a couple of Lieutenant platoon leaders and to my two radio operators. About that time, the chow call was made and men began forming a line to be served.

I hadn’t realized that the infantry kitchen back at Bronco cooked hot meals to be delivered to the companies that were in the field on every day that it was possible. The food came out in insulated canisters and thick plastic bags. We would be eating whatever the menu was back at the rear headquarters, although maybe not as hot and definitely not as fresh! It wasn’t bad though and I would grow to appreciate it more as time went by. Soda and beer were usually sent out as well. Nothing like a warm Coke, Pepsi, or Bud! If we were lucky to have a stream nearby we could cool them off a bit. Morning and mid-day meals would consist of c-rations or LRRP (Long Range Reconnaissance) packs, referred to as “lerps”, which were freeze-dried meals that were re-constituted with hot water, and were generally quite tasty. We heated water using C-4 plastic explosive, which came in small blocks about the size of packaged cheese from the grocery store. A very small piece of it could be lit with a match or cigarette lighter and burned at a very high temperature, so it only took a few seconds to boil a small amount of water.

It turned out that Captain Carnes, the commander, was from Midland, Texas. He and one of the Lieutenant platoon leaders were in the National Guard and had been called up to active duty. Once again I had come across someone with whom I had a lot in common. He was a big Dallas Cowboys fan and although he had graduated from Texas Tech, I felt a sense of camaraderie that made me feel a little more at ease. He had already called in the DTs for the location, so I was able to visit and just observe the routine of an early evening on the ground. Each day the company would move to a new location and set up the mortar, then send two of the platoons out to search or reconnoiter the area, while one platoon stayed behind with the command party to guard the site. When the platoons returned, foxholes were dug in a large circle for the defensive perimeter for the night. Trip wires for flares were strung outside the perimeter, with claymore mines located strategically. Claymores were directional explosives that were detonated by a wire connected to a clicker device which would be on the edge of the foxhole. If a trip wire was bumped and set off a flare, it would pop and light up the area, which served as an alert and made it possible to see what was there. If it was the enemy, the soldier on guard would smack the clicker, setting off a significant explosion that would bring the whole company to attention and, hopefully, eliminate the enemy. Foxholes were dug for the command party, but we slept on the ground near them in case anything happened. While the perimeter was being set up, six targets were established around the position for the Artillery to be able to immediately fire on if we came under attack. These were actually fired upon to confirm their locations, then the coordinates stored for use. This would be my responsibility every evening.

At dusk, men would begin moving to their foxholes and preparing for the night, and as dark moved in all activity stopped. On the perimeter, one man would take his place in the foxhole to stand watch for a determined period of time before waking the next man to take his place. There were usually three men per foxhole, with two sleeping on the ground next to it. If anything happened, they would slip into it and be ready for action. I hadn’t slept on the ground since camping as a teenager, but it would be my bed for many nights to come. We slept with our clothes and boots on with a poncho liner as cover to keep the dew from getting us wet and a rolled up towel had to suffice as a pillow. My helmet, rifle and ammunition bandolier were right next to me. The radio was on the edge of the command foxhole, ready to call in a fire mission if needed. My first night “in the field” didn’t provide a lot in the way of rest. After all the training and briefings, I still didn’t know just what to expect, and I was a little concerned with what might slither or crawl under my cover, and there was the certain possibility that war could break out at any moment!

Morning of my first full day with Alpha company, after a quiet night, began at daybreak. As soon as there was light, men began to move about. I arose a bit stiff and needed to relieve my bladder. I asked if I needed to go outside the perimeter and was told to just go anywhere away from other people; simple enough, as I noticed that I wasn’t alone. Breakfast was C-rations and warm soda or iodine laced water. Big plastic jugs of water and jars of iodine tablets came out with re-supply daily. Hydration was extremely important in the high temperature and humidity and iodine was necessary to help purify the water. I had four canteens attached to my rucksack to be filled. Within an hour Captain Carnes and his Lieutenants had finished their morning briefing and were ready to start the day. We were heading uphill into a forested area to be on a nearby mountaintop by the next day.

The three platoons took turns as the lead platoon each day, and men within the platoon took turns as “point”, the very first man in the long line of soldiers. In most cases we moved in single file. Each platoon was made up of 30 to 35 men, the mortar platoon was 6 to 8 more, and the command party was roughly 10, including myself and my two RTO’s (radio telephone operator). We walked six or more feet apart to prevent grouping and creating a larger target in case of ambush or attack. That made for a very long line of troops! The command would usually follow the lead platoon so that the commander could be closer to the point when we became engaged with the enemy. I followed the commander’s RTO’s. Depending upon the terrain and the brush, forest, or jungle through which we passed, we generally moved slowly. The point man had to be extremely alert for movement ahead and for trip-wires or other signs of booby traps. It was a perilous position!

For writing this memoir I will be including some quotes from my notes that I had made during my time there.

We had moved perhaps a half mile or so when the lead platoon came in contact with the enemy. Our first indication of this was the eruption of gunfire.

“Hiking through a ravine, gunfire erupts up ahead. Everyone hits the dirt. I had never before tried so hard to become “one with the earth”. The company commander asked for a “fire mission”… where the heck was I supposed to fire?!…”Gimme the damn radio” was all he said. My first lesson…don’t freeze, communicate and react!!
I realized why I was an “FNG”…f***ing new guys…no amount of training can prepare you for the real thing…and this was life & death!!”

Captain Carnes never finished the fire mission call because word came back that the point man had seen only one man who had run away after the first shots were fired. A squad of men went forward to check the area, and after an all clear was sent back we proceeded with our movement. I was somewhat embarrassed and definitely upset with myself for being too startled and fearful to automatically follow my training. I vowed that it wouldn’t happen again!

Later that morning we were at the base of the mountain and stopped to set up for the night. We were in light jungle, among rocky terrain with large trees and considerable undergrowth. Platoons were sent out to reconnoiter while the third platoon began preparing the night defensive position. In terrain like this it was not possible to dig foxholes, so trees were chopped down and rocks stacked to build cover. Mid-afternoon, one of the Lieutenants was bitten by a millipede…so large that the mandibles pierced his finger on either side. In a matter of minutes his finger had swollen to twice its size, and within an hour or so he was feverish and vomiting. A “dust-off” (a Huey med-evac chopper with medics on board) was called and he was carried to a clearing where the chopper could set down.

“Dang…there were thousands of guys in that jungle intent on killing us, and nature was an enemy too? Nasty spiders, cobras, green tree snakes, tigers!! I really wondered if I would survive. I spent the next couple days scanning every inch of my surroundings…Useless!!!”

The next morning we headed out to make our ascent to the top of the mountain. As we moved along the valley we came to a place in the trail with a vertical step up of about four feet. The men ahead would stop and reach down a hand to help the man behind make the steep climb. After I had been helped up I started walking away, completely forgetting about my RTO behind me, and after I had taken a few steps I realized what I had failed to do. As I turned around I saw the second RTO shoving on his butt as he scrambled to the top. I felt badly for my omission and apologized as he got to his feet. I certainly didn’t want to appear too superior to help an enlisted man. Once more I was embarrassed, and had learned another lesson. If I became self-absorbed, I could fail to notice what was happening around me, and that could have deadly consequences in the heat of a moment.

When we started the climb to the top we were moving up a dry stream bed littered with rocks and boulders. It was a long, steep, and difficult climb that taxed our physical condition. We were well on the way up when the lead platoon radioed back that they had come under attack, but there was no gunfire! It turned out that the attack was from Rock Baboons or Rock Apes, a medium sized primate that defended its territory by screeching and throwing rocks at intruders.

“Was there no end to the adversaries?
I wanted to be in Dallas!!!”

The platoon had alerted us because they would be firing some shots to chase them away. It was dangerous to proceed while being pelted with fist sized rocks.

The next morning found us waiting atop the mountain for a flight of Hueys to transport us about two miles to a ridge just East of San Juan Hill. This would be my first Combat Assault, or CA. This was a method of inserting a full company size unit into a target area within a relatively short period of time, which provided an element of surprise against the enemy. Of course, it saved potential days of time moving troops from one area to another. In most cases CA’s were utilized to put troops where the enemy either was or was suspected to be, and that was the scary part. The landing zone would almost always be a large open area where five or six choppers could set down at one time. We wouldn’t know exactly where the enemy might be when we arrived, and if we dropped in very close, they could hear the choppers coming and have time to mount an attack as we were arriving. A “hot LZ” was everyone’s nightmare.

We were using six choppers for this CA, which would move an entire platoon at one time, since each bird could carry six to seven soldiers. Our LZ was a clear, grassy area as big as a couple football fields. The command party went in on the first wave (GULP!!) so that Captain Carnes could be on the ground with the first troops, in case we ran into resistance. I still see that ridge and the grass and scattered rock outcroppings, and at the edge, the tops of trees that covered the slopes down to the valleys below. Thankfully, everything was peaceful as we bailed out of the chopper and lay down in the grass with our eyes on the surrounding ground. Once the birds had lifted off, the platoon moved toward the edge of the ridge and took positions to defend the LZ for the remaining flights. It took less than 10 minutes for the next flight to arrive, and in about half an hour the entire company was on the ground. It was a tense, yet oddly exhilarating, experience!

There was a very narrow and steep ravine that ran down through the jungle covered mountainside. That was our target because intelligence said there may be an NVA base camp somewhere in there. Once we were all together, the lead platoon started down into the ravine. We had not yet reached the edge of the ridge when a high volume of gunfire erupted down below. Someone was at home!! The situation was that the platoon couldn’t proceed down and it was too steep and narrow to move around to flank the area. After some discussion, Captain Carnes pulled the platoon back up and requested an air-strike. There happened to be a Forward Air Controller, or FAC, flying a few miles away. FAC’s flew Cessna O-2 Skymasters in our area and were the on-site command for fighter jets. They communicated with ground troops to determine the target location and fired rockets at the target to show the jets where to attack, as in this case. In a matter of seconds an F-4 Phantom jet was streaking down toward the ravine and let loose two rockets. Then a second F-4 followed the first with more rockets. We could hear AK-47 rifle shots coming from the ravine as the second jet approached. We notified the FAC and shortly the F-4 made another pass while “Charlie” continued firing back. This time it made a lower pass and dropped bombs, followed by the second jet doing the same. We were close enough to the area that a cigar sized piece of bomb shrapnel landed on the side of my boot where I was laying. After the jets headed back to their base, the platoon went back down the ravine. This time there was no resistance and the rest of the company followed. We found evidence of their camp with some discarded items, fish and rice and some blood stained leaves and rocks, but they were nowhere to be found. It seemed that they could vanish into thin air. We continued down the ravine to the valley below and prepared to set up for the night. It was July 3^rd; we had our fireworks a day early! The next night the Artillery on San Juan Hill shot some flare rounds high into the night sky; Happy 4^th of July!!