On December 1^st it was back to reality….and LZ Debbie. Things were calm while I was gone, but I sensed a mood swing among the personnel as I got back into my routine. For some reason, Col Johnson was acting strangely and had become difficult to work with. We had gotten along well, but we weren’t close friends, and the difference in rank and position made it impossible for me to inquire or intervene in any way. We just had to live with it…and he was one of the people with whom I had to work most closely. I had roughly 50 days left in country; all I needed was for them to be difficult on a relational basis!

December 8^th came around and it was like getting hit with a sucker-punch to the gut!! I received notification from the Red Cross that Linda was entering the hospital that day, for surgery the next day, for suspected breast cancer!! Her doctor had requested that I be granted emergency leave, but it was rejected. I was beside myself…as if life wasn’t strained enough! I hopped a jeep to Duc Pho and requested an emergency call to the states. I was told that there would be no calls available until midnight at the earliest. In order to make a phone call, a special military radio facility had to contact a ham radio operator in the states, who would patch into a land line and make the connection. I was up all night waiting for the call to go through. It was already the day of surgery back in the states, so I had the call made to my sister, Eleanor, who also lived in Irving, and would certainly know any details. Finally, at 7:30, the morning of the 9th, they got my connection, and Eleanor was able to set me at ease to some degree. The doctor had discovered a lump in each breast and was removing them for biopsy, but they were likely benign. That set my mind at relative ease and I returned to the fire base, exhausted and drained. The next morning I felt somewhat more normal after a good night of sleep, and feeling a bit more resolved that things were going to be fine back home. But, I couldn’t completely shake the concern that lingered about the results of Linda’s surgery.

The day felt cold, with occasional showers and a continuous mist in the air. I would return to Duc Pho that afternoon to attend a big party at the Artillery HQ that night. It was St. Barbara’s Day, the patron saint of the artillery. All the Liaison Officers, Battery Commanders, and the HQ staff would be in attendance. It would be great to have some fun and a special meal to break the monotony and get my mind off everything that was bothering me. Camaraderie and laughter and some “Artillery Punch” (a mixture of champagne, wine, bourbon, gin, scotch, vodka, and a touch of 7-up) was most welcome!!

By the 17^th, I was at an emotional breaking point. It had been a week since Linda’s surgery, and I had yet to receive any notification of her condition. I didn’t know when, or if, she had left the hospital, what they had found, what her prognosis was….I actually didn’t know if she was still alive!! I had called Red Cross four times over the last five days and had gotten no response. Eleanor had told me she would let them know the results, and there was no way she would have failed to do so! The weather was miserable and morale in general on LZ Debbie was very low, with the command problems. That afternoon, I went in to HQ and had a long heart felt talk with Col Gleave. He asked about Linda, and when I related my problem he put in a request for a priority emergency call for me for that evening. I had respected few people in my life any more than I did that man. He was, no doubt, the finest commander I had ever met, let alone served under. I hung around until I was able to talk with Eleanor again. I wasn’t able to reach Linda because it was mid-day there, and SHE WAS AT WORK!! My wonderful sister filled me in on all that had transpired and that all was fine. The tumors had been benign!! I returned to Debbie with a far better attitude, and a determination to make the best of my remaining thirty-odd days.

Throughout November and December there had been very little activity with the enemy. The weather had a large part in the lack of movement, with most action in our area being the occasional ambush along Highway 1. We all prayed that it would remain that way through the upcoming holidays.

Christmas Day finally arrived! All of the companies were pulled back to their firebases for the day and night so that the men could enjoy real Christmas dinner and relax in relative comfort. I went up to the artillery battery mess hall for dinner, which was a really good meal with all the fixings, and even a plastic tree and decorations. It was a beautiful day with temps in the 80’s. It just didn’t seem like a holiday, especially Christmas. I was waiting to celebrate in another twenty-five days, when I left for Cam Rahn Bay!!! It was hard to believe that I had less than a month remaining!

New Year’s Eve and we’re all going to Times Square to celebrate!!! NOT! A couple of captains and I sat on top of a bunker and emptied our 45’s into the air. Happy New Year!!…and new year’s day wouldn’t be spent watching parades and football. Instead, we would be preparing to move the battalion HQ to a temporary site on a hilltop a couple miles to the west, for a large operation involving three US battalions and an ARVN battalion. There was a huge build-up of NVA and VC forces out there somewhere, and they were known to be staging for a Tet (Lunar new year) offensive. We were going to try to find them.

It would take a couple of days to move the HQ and the artillery battery and get it all set up. At least the weather had been relatively nice. Since this operation was expected to last at least ten days, I would spend very little time, if any, on LZ Debbie before leaving for home. So much for the few creature comforts I had enjoyed.

January 2 and Whoa!! “Charlie” didn’t want us invading his area, it seemed. The lead party, consisting of an infantry company and two artillery pieces. was placed out on the new firebase the day before, and they were hit really hard that night. In fact, they were nearly over-run. I lost one of my Lieutenants in the action. He died trying to divert the NVA from the foxhole where his wounded radio operator was hiding. It was a big, sad loss…and we hadn’t even gotten started yet. It made everyone a little ill-at-ease as we moved the remainder of the headquarters out to the hill.

When we arrived at the hill and I got off the chopper, I saw the grey, stiff bodies of two Viet Cong laying in the mud, just off the landing area. I had seen plenty of death over the last few months, but this time I just stood and stared at them for a while. These were men, with families of some sort, somewhere in this country, who may never know what happened to them when they failed to return. They would be buried somewhere in the rear and that will be the end of their story. I think the fact that I had only a few days remaining made me consider my own fragile existence. This could happen to anyone at any time.

It had rained enough to make the bald hilltop a nasty, muddy mess and several men spent all day nailing together pallets and wood from ammo crates to create walkways between bunkers. I made my way to the bunker where I would be staying, and stored my equipment. This wasn’t how I had envisioned my last days on the job!

On the Fourth of January we began moving the companies out to various areas in the field, and I spent sixteen hours in the air in two days! We ran four CA’s in one day; that was four LZ preps, in a period of about five hours!! I was worn out mentally. But the operation was underway, and then It was a game of hide and seek.

Other than the attack on the lead party on the 1st, there was little contact and only a few sightings. They were definitely avoiding us, and hiding rather than fighting. They were surely trying to conceal themselves and their material until February and the beginning of Tet. That was fine with me. I had a week left until I headed for Duc Pho to begin out-processing. I didn’t care to see any more action. The rain and the mud on the new firebase was enough to deal with.

The last week had been off and on with rain, clearing enough to manage a few more CA’s, and the operation was winding down. It was January 17, and it would have to end without me, because the re-supply chopper would be taking me back to Duc Pho to spend my last two days at LZ Bronco, before catching a chopper to Chu Lai to process out of the Americal Division.

On the morning of the 18^th, I was clean of mud and feeling very well from fitful sleep and mess hall food, and I was reporting to Col Gleave for the last time. That was bitter-sweet; he was such a great leader, and such a fine gentleman. The night that I was wounded, he had come to the hospital at 1:30 AM to check on me. I had so enjoyed serving with him. We talked for quite a while, debriefing about the operation and my last few months in general. Of course, he inquired about Linda, and my plans for the future. As we were finishing up, he informed me that the next morning there would be an award ceremony for me. I would be receiving two Bronze Stars for Valor, a Bronze Star for exemplary service, an Air Medal for Valor, the Army Commendation Medal, and the Purple Heart. He apologetically added that one of the Bronze Stars, for September 21^st, was submitted as a Silver Star for Valor, but had been downgraded by the Commanding General because he didn’t want to give out too many awards of that degree. If I had planned for a career, I would have been disappointed, but at that point, I really didn’t care. Also, Col Hardy, the Artillery Division Commander would be flying in to make the presentation. I was shocked, surprised, honored, and humbled. I had expected that I would simply slip away like most everyone…no fanfare, just some tough goodbyes and handshakes, with the next day just another day for those left behind.

The ceremony was late morning, with all of Headquarters Battery in formation. It was a beautiful, sunny morning as we took our places. The battery was divided into two platoons with me in between. The staff Sergeant Major was the master of ceremonies, calling the formation to attention, and then calling me forward. Col Hardy, Col Gleave, and even Col Johnson were standing behind the Sergeant Major. Col Hardy came forward and pinned each medal on my chest and shook my hand after the reading of each citation. He, also, apologized for the one Bronze Star being downgraded. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I simply replied “Yes Sir”, while feeling a bit foolish. When he was done, Col Gleave came forward and presented me with a plaque from the 6/11 Artillery. Then Col Johnson stepped up and shared some words of thanks and respect, and presented me with a plaque from the 4/21 Infantry. I was touched; he really was a nice guy, I think. I returned to my post between the platoons and the formation was dismissed. It seemed almost a surreal moment for me; certainly nothing I would have envisioned back in June.

The rest of the afternoon was spent processing and getting all my belongings out of storage. We had a farewell party that night at the Officers’ Club (more like Officers’ hootch) and I enjoyed re-living some of the events of the past seven months. In a strange way, I was sorry to be leaving, but nothing could have kept me there. In another two weeks I would have been promoted to Captain, and Col Gleave had offered me my choice of remaining a Liaison Officer, commander of HQ Battery or commander of one of the 105 howitzer batteries. But, I would also have spent another five months there. My vision was solely on my wonderful wife waiting at home, and a promised job at Republic National Bank in downtown Dallas. It was not a hard choice to make, and I had made it long before!!!

On the morning of the 20^th, after breakfast, I found myself sitting in front of the battery day-room, observing my surroundings; looking out to the beach, then out over the firebase, and then to the distant mountains. Everywhere, there were men going about their daily routines with not a thought about Lieutenant Nauck’s exit from LZ Bronco. The men in Alpha company were still out there plodding around in the mountains and valleys around San Juan Hill, and a new captain was serving as liaison at LZ Debbie. The war continued without me. I can’t explain just how I felt at the time. So much had taken place in my life over the last seven months, and now it seemed to have happened so quickly! I think that I felt very much alone!

About mid-morning, there was a “Loach”, for Light Observation Helicopter, a small two-seater. going to Chu Lai. I jumped at the chance to ride once more, and in a chopper I had not ridden before. I climbed into the seat and introduced myself to the pilot and buckled up for the long anticipated ride. It seemed odd, but I actually had watery eyes as we lifted off from the grassy lawn in front of headquarters, veered off to the coast, and sped toward Chu Lai at about twenty feet off the beach, leaving a part of my life in the unwritten history of Quang Ngai Province.

Two days in Chu Lai, processing out of the Americal Division, then on to Cam Ranh Bay for one day, and I was ready to “Leave Country”. It was amazing….seven months earlier I had arrived at the same place, full of anxiety and trepidation….now, leaving, one of the other guys had to wake me from a sound sleep in the waiting room, to board the plane. We walked out onto the tarmac, and there sat a 737 with the name “Flying Tiger Airlines” emblazoned along the body. It seemed somehow fitting…from a vicious World War II fighter plane to a civilian craft now carrying me home. The mood on that plane was quite different from the one I had arrived on!! As we climbed into the sky and banked out over the South China Sea, I took a long last look at the beaches and the lowlands filled with rice paddies and the mountains in the distance. The view was so different from up there…it belied the turmoil that still raged across that tiny land. One stop in Osaka to re-fuel and that “Freedom Bird” was headed for Seattle.

It seemed to take forever to process out at Fort Lewis, Washington, but on January 26, 1970, I was finally discharged from the military and shuttled to Sea-Tac Airport for the last ride of my adventure. It was so different to be among throngs of civilian people. Although some would look at my uniform with disgust, most were going about their lives with no idea what I, or the others like me, had just lived through.

By the time we approached Dallas Love Field it was evening, and all I could see were the unending lights spread across the landscape. It was such a familiar sight! When the plane touched down my heart seemed, literally, in my throat, and my eyes were definitely watery once again.

I had made it…I was home!

Words can’t describe what I felt as I exited the jet-way and first saw my beautiful Linda waiting with my faithful sister, Eleanor, and her husband, Ed. JOY…PURE JOY!!!

Eleanor and Ed had brought Linda to the airport, so I was able to sit back and enjoy cuddling with her and taking in the familiar landmarks along the freeway. It had been a long time since I last rode in a car and it seemed luxurious. We were dropped off at our apartment, and as we entered, my adventure was truly complete.

I awakened that night at 1:00AM…….craving a peanut butter and jelly sandwich!!!

I caught an early morning chopper to LZ Debbie, located on a hill on the coast, about five miles South of Duc Pho. The LZ had originally been built by and for the Army Engineers, so many of the structures were more like buildings than crude bunkers. It was a larger complex with a road that led down to Highway 1. The TOC (Tactical Operations Center) was a large structure made of 8×8 timbers laid horizontally, with windows and screen doors, much better than the sheet metal bunker on San Juan Hill. It was situated half way up the hill, with the artillery battery at the top of the hill. I had my own room in the TOC, with a wooden bunk-bed and a screen door to the rear of the building.

I met Captain Lewis, whom I was replacing, and he briefed me on the battalion and the current situation in their area of operation. The 4/21 Infantry worked primarily in the lowlands below Duc Pho and out to the mountains to the West, and had responsibility for the security of Highway 1 down to the southern boundary of I-Corps. He showed me around the LZ and introduced me to a number of the personnel and the commander, Col Johnson. I was amazed to find that Col Johnson was from Texas, and had graduated from Prairie View A&M, a division of the Texas A&M system for African Americans. He seemed to be a nice guy and we hit it off well from the start, sharing our commonality.

I stashed my gear in my room and set up a plywood desktop from which I expected to do a lot of my work. It was wonderful to have a “home” at last. One of the real perks of this position, for me, was the amount of time I would be spending in the command chopper. I had fallen in love with helicopters and got a charge out of every ride. I would have been a chopper pilot if not for a lack of mobility in my left arm, due to a bad break and a botched surgery as a child. At that point, riding was good enough. So, I settled in and made myself at home, looking forward to the next four months. During the following few days I was able to fly out to a couple of the companies in the field and meet my Forward Observers, and spend some time getting to know the guys up at the artillery battery.

October 7^th arrived and it was Happy Birthday to me!…which was all the celebration that I got!!

Along with the activities of my first week, I was also getting to know Col. Johnson. I needed to get a feel for his expectations of me and his attitude, in general, toward the artillery. I had heard that this battalion had had some not so good experiences involving the “cannon-cockers”. I had learned that if the infantry believes you know what you’re doing, they treat you like a king; if not, they wouldn’t follow you to the latrine!

It had started to rain on a regular basis, as the start of the monsoon season was approaching. There were times when it would pour down for several hours without letting up! I was SOOOO glad that I was out of the field. I would lay in my BED and listen to the torrents on the roof, and think of trying to sleep on the ground under a poncho!!! The temperatures would fall into the seventies, yet with the rain and wind, it would feel quite chilly, especially when flying around with the chopper doors open! I had to dig into my duffelbag and pull out my field jacket for warmth. I was loving my new job more every day!!

By the second week of October, the weather had switched to typical monsoon activity on the coast; rain at night and relatively sunny during the day, with highs in the eighties and nineties. It was great weather for flying, and I was enjoying the hours in the choppers. The 4/21st was primarily responsible for securing about twenty miles of Hwy 1, particularly where the mountains came out to the coast. The area was famous for ambushes of convoys and routine military traffic, so we reconed (reconnoitered) it regularly. I realized that there was no detailed plan laid out for artillery support along that stretch, so I began devising numerous target locations in likely ambush spots to facilitate rapid response. Col. Johnson was pleased, and impressed, as was Col. Gleave. Chalk up one for the Arty!!

My comfy room in the TOC had made a character swing with all the rain. There was a twenty foot wall of dirt about fifteen feet behind the TOC, which had been dug out of the side of the hill, to level the area for buildings. The volumes of water runoff had begun eroding the bank and flushing it down against our back wall. My screen door allowed the mud to flow into my room. Every couple days I had to shovel and sweep the excess through the slats in the floor, and the wet soil underneath wasn’t smelling too good. I opted to give up the privacy of a room to myself, and move into a bunker across the road. It was comfortable enough, and I shared it with one of the Captains on staff.

Confrontations with the enemy had been light over the past weeks, largely due to the weather, but also because they were surely having to re-supply men and material after the August/September offensive. Lately we had seen more ambushes along Hwy 1, so the battalion was going to send some companies a couple miles into the mountains to search out possible base camp and reserve locations. That meant there were going to be a number of combat assaults. CA’s were one of the things I enjoyed most as Liaison Officer. For a CA, I was responsible for prepping the landing zone, which meant utilizing an artillery barrage to cover the area where the choppers would set down, and any surrounding treeline or heavy brush where the enemy might set up an ambush of the incoming troops. On the day before the assault, I would contact various batteries and set up their coordinates, plan the number and type of rounds, and set the time of barrage. For most of our area I was able to use 4.2 inch mortars, 105mm and 155mm howitzers, and 8 inch and 175mm cannons, firing as much as 100 rounds. The guns would be as close as one mile and up to ten miles from the target, and when I used the 175mm cannon, they were firing from as much as nineteen miles to our South. The 175mm projectile would be in the air for one minute or more before hitting the target. In fact, those big guns were actually located in northern II-Corps.

On October 20^th we ran our first CA. I was able to utilize all sizes of guns, and I was as anxious as a child the night before Christmas. The command chopper would lead the formation of birds carrying troops into a holding pattern that I had supplied the battalion commander to insure that we were clear of the flight of the artillery rounds. Then I would start a two minute countdown to “Time On Target”, when the first round from each battery involved should strike the target area. It was so cool to speak into the headphone “…3, 2, 1, time on target is NOW!”, and then watch the instantaneous explosions in clouds of smoke and dust erupting all over and around the LZ. The barrage might last up to three or four minutes, depending on the size of the area to be saturated. It was such a thrilling sight…I often thought that not even a snake was left alive after such an onslaught. Then when the last battery would call in “tubes clear”, I would signal the pilot that it was safe to go in. The command chopper would lead the way, in a steep descent at about 100 mph, then level out and streak over the LZ, dropping colored smoke grenades, then climb back to a thousand feet or so to observe the troop choppers going in to off-load. It was an exhilarating experience, and I loved showing off the awesome power of artillery at my command.

In late October I experienced what seemed like another miracle, and perhaps it was. We were out on a recon flight when we received word that one of the companies had a soldier who had been badly injured by a booby trap. We flew to the location to pick him up and take him to the hospital at LZ Bronco. The company was located in the edge of a heavily forested area next to a large field of elephant grass. There was a small area of short grass next to the treeline, just big enough for a chopper to set down. As we were approaching the area, I noticed an empty sandbag laying in the center of the location. I thought it was odd for a sandbag to be out in the middle of nowhere, but didn’t think anything more about it; there were millions of sandbags in the country. We came in slowly and dropped straight down into the grassy area. Several men carried the wounded soldier to the chopper and loaded him in; after which, we lifted slightly, tilted, and flew forward. Within a couple of seconds after gaining flight, we heard a loud explosion behind us. The pilot made a quick climb and hard right turn, spinning us back the way we had come in, and there in the center of the small clearing was a large hole, with smoke rising into the air. Once again, I had come within a fraction of death, or at best, critical injury!! It was then that I realized why the sandbag seemed oddly out of place.

The VC were very wily at setting up many and varied traps to cause death and mayhem. In this case, they first set up a trap to kill or injure a person, and knowing a helicopter would be called in, they cleared the tall grass in an area just large enough for landing. Then they buried an explosive, which was likely an un-spent artillery round, in the middle of the space and attached a detonator, by wire, to the sandbag. The obvious intent was for the prop-wash from the helicopter rotors to blow the bag away, setting off the explosion, as the chopper was about to set down; quite ingenuous!! Apparently, the way we came in kept the bag pressed in place with the prop-wash circling around it, and only when we tilted forward did the airflow catch it so as to blow it away! So close, so very close!

Before I knew it, another month was off the calendar, and the days seemed to blend together, as my work became even more routine. There was very little activity in our area, largely due to the daily rain that could crop up at any time, and the occasional downpour that shut down everything. Much of my work still involved recon by helicopter; in one month I had logged better than fifty hours in the air. And I was loving it!

In mid November, I had a very difficult day! For a couple weeks I had been dealing with a 2nd Lieutenant FO, attached to one of the companies, who just wasn’t cutting it. Lazy, inattentive, and arrogant, he had the Company Commander ready to shoot him (figuratively speaking). After consulting with Col Gleave, we determined that I had to relieve him of his position and send him back to battalion HQ where they could deal with him. There was no way his attitude could affect the lives of the many men that might count on him. It was very difficult for me, because I didn’t like conflict. After relieving him, I had to write an Officer Efficiency Report for him, and although I hated to put it on his record, I had to be honest about his attitude. Then, after turning in the paperwork, one of the captains on staff told me I couldn’t be so negative in my report because I could ruin his career!!! I couldn’t believe what I was hearing; I told him to write it up and I would sign it. One more reason that I knew I couldn’t be career military! Later that day I confided in one of the captains with whom I had a close relationship. He told me that I was too independent, and that I needed to keep my mouth shut and just go with the flow. I knew that, but I couldn’t accept it…seventy more days, and I’d be a civilian again!

Friday, the 21st…What a day! We ran a CA at 1:00PM, after which I took the chopper back to Duc Pho, grabbed my suitcase out of storage, and caught a plane to Chu Lai. I arrived just in time to meet with Col Hardy, the Artillery Division Commander, who knew that I was coming and had invited me to dinner. It was a nice private meal, and I felt honored by his invitation, but I spent much of the time listening to him speak of the benefits of a career in the army. He was very complimentary; telling me that I exhibited the knowledge and leadership traits needed in the military, and that I would rise through the officer ranks rapidly. He mentioned how highly I was respected by Col Gleave, and that I could likely name my future position in the battalion, or even promote up to division level. I have to admit that thoughts of grandeur flashed through my mind as I listened. In the end, I kept my mouth shut, went with the flow, was gracious, and couldn’t wait to get to bed! The next day I would be on a flight to Danang, where I would proceed to a week of R&R in Hong Kong!!!!

Fortunately, my tour in country was long enough to qualify for a week off, and I was able to plan to spend Thanksgiving week in Hong Kong. The largest cities I had ever been to were Dallas and Houston and they paled in comparison!! The numbers of buildings and people were amazing. It was most impressive. I planned to spend my time resting, sightseeing, and shopping. Captain Monday had planned his R&R for the same time. He was a day ahead of me and met me at the airport. He had reserved rooms for both of us at the same hotel. We spent my first evening sitting in the 12^th floor bar overlooking part of the city, drinking “screwdrivers”, and sharing experiences. It was such a change over twenty-four hours and a few hundred miles. The next day would begin a whirlwind of shopping and tours of the city, and the “new frontier” on the out-skirts of the city with a view of the border with China, with the fence and armed guard towers.

The British had established a huge shopping mall right on the harbor, called the Royal Fleet Cub, with only reputable and well scrutinized vendors for the military to buy without fear of being scammed. It was amazing purchasing custom, tailor-made suits for $40…cheap even in 1969 dollars, and they did it all, from measurement to completion, in four and a half days. I bought a full wardrobe of dress clothing, a stereo component system, and silverware, and a wristwatch, cashmere sweater, and pearls for Linda. I had a blast! It was a great respite from war, and I found that I really liked real Cantonese food (or some of it)!! And, I was able to eat at the famous Tai-Pak floating restaurant in the harbor. The Hotel where I stayed even had a huge Thanksgiving buffet…complete with all the items I would expect back in the USA. It was a fun and interesting time!