29 January, 1968 thru 31 January, 1968

Sgt E5 - Signal Core

A document prepared by, and under the name of ‘U. S. Army Center of Military History’ gives detailed accounts of the happenings of this two day period (and beyond). This document and a couple others, since removed from the internet, helped me to place my memories into the correct day and to give me a better understanding of how my activities fit with the documented events. My memories from the 29th of January, 1968 are clear. For the 30th and beyond, I have newly recovered memories that, along with insight gained, strongly support the rest of the story.

Di An, Vietnam, 29 January, 1968

On the morning of the 29th, a soldier asked me to take him back to Bien Hoa air base. I was civic actions NCO for a signal company support located in Di An and, as such, I had my own jeep. As we were preparing to depart, a wide-eyed second lieutenant ran up and informed me that I wasn’t going anywhere. Reports indicated that a convoy had been attacked and that there was blood on “that there road”. (At the time, attacks on convoys had become common, but single vehicles were almost always allowed to pass. I had been going where I wanted when I wanted in pursuit of civic action opportunities).

By mid-day I was required to report to company headquarters (595th signal company, support). I was told that a secure radio teletypewriter capability was needed (somewhere???) and that I would be the team leader. Three men, all qualified to operate the equipment, were assigned to the team reporting to me. Our equipment consisted of a secure teletypewriter and a powerful radio transceiver in a hut (or office) mounted on a 2 ½ ton army truck (commonly referred to as a duce and a half). We were to join a convoy bound for Bien Hoa air base later that afternoon, and would travel the same route that I had intended to travel with my jeep. So much for blood on “that there road”!

The men assigned to me turned out to be very resourceful. We agreed early on that we were going to a place less desirable than where we were coming from. With that in mind, we “raided” the company munitions store and loaded many grenades, (two of which I hung from my flack vest), bullets for our newly acquired M16 rifles and my M14 rifle (I had preferred the M14, which was an upgraded version of the world war II M1, even though I was assured that the current M16’s would not jam), several rocket launchers, M79 grenade launchers, and anything else we could get our hands on. Our rig was now a potential firestorm should it be treated inappropriately. My two hand grenades remained with me for quite some time as the

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Tet offensive of 1968 (which was unknown to us and was about to start) unfolded and eventually burned itself out at the cost of many lives.

That afternoon, we were inserted into a convoy consisting of other teams and trucks also being relocated. The Generals had decided that a massive rearrangement of troops and support equipment needed to take place for the expected upcoming VC offensive. They believed that it was at least two weeks off and that Tet, with the agreed cease-fire for the holiday, was the best time to accomplish this. Hence, away we went, bound for Bien Hoa air base. I rode with my rig in the ‘shot gun’ seat and one of my team drove. The other two caught a ride where they could find room. The trip was uneventful and we arrived late afternoon. We had left most of our belongings behind due to the sudden and mysterious nature of our departure.

Bien Hoa Air Base, 29-30 January

An interesting fact or two before I continue: All of Viet Nam celebrates Tet which is their New Year. The day of Tet was the same for the Southern provinces and the Northern provinces of South VietNam, however, some areas of the South region’s calendar were consistently one day earlier than the North region’s calendar. The North Vietnamese Army (NVA) and Viet Cong had determined that the offensive would begin at midnight of Tet. In some regions of the South, this was the 30th of January and in the North this was the 31st of January per USA calendars. Bien Hoa was in the South region and Hue and Phu Bai were in the north region. More will be told about this later. The second fact is more personal. Four years earlier, I began to practice Nichiren Shoshu Buddhism while stationed on Okinawa. Before going to Viet Nam in 1967 I spent several weeks on Okinawa to visit my wife (who was not permitted to return to the states with me earlier that year) to let her know that I would return after Viet Nam. While there, I received a special Gohonzon (a Buddhist scroll symbolizing my life). It was rolled up and inserted into a bag prepared for me to carry inside my shirt. It remained with me the whole time I was in Viet Nam.

OK, we had just arrived in Bien Hoa and we pulled up next to a fence that separated us from the tarmac. At some point in time a technician arrived who was assigned to insure that our rig was in working order. I left that activity to my team while I continued to try to find out what our fate would be. I learned rather recently by examining my military records that my team and I had been assigned to Signal Brigade, and there was no one in my upward chain of command to report to in Phu Bai or Hue. I was in charge of three soldiers with a dotted line to the generals. I am glad that I didn’t know all of this at that time!

It was almost dark when I learned, via the rumor mill, that I would have a choice of destinations. It was to be Phu Bai or Khe Sahn and I should choose Phu Bai if I could. Shortly after, I was brought together with another sergeant who was team leader of another radio tele-

2 type rig. The officer who called us together flipped a coin. I called heads and it was, so we were assigned to Phu Bai. I rounded up my team and gave them the news. By then, our rig was operational and the munitions were reloaded. Equipment began to be loaded into C130’s and one by one they departed. When it was time for the flight to Phu Bai to load, I learned that there was no room for my rig and that the pilot would come back for it later. I made the decision to send my team ahead and notified the pilot that I would stay with the rig until he returned. My team was loaded onto the cargo plane and the last of the planes departed. I was alone on the tarmac. There were no planes. All that was left on the tarmac were a number of conex boxes (about 20 feet high) arranged so that there was space between each one and, of course, my rig, already mounted on skids and positioned for a quick load should/when the plane return. So there I was. Perhaps for the first time in my life, I was in charge of myself. There was no one to turn to and no one to blame! The night skies were clear. The air was warm, but with a slight chill to it as the night advanced. The blue runway lights had been left on to guide the pilot on his return. I walked around the area and thought about what I would do should my position come under attack. Most of the munitions were still in the rig, which was locked up and was not accessible. I still had the two grenades hanging from my flack vest and my M-14 with a full magazine. I had already decided that I would not allow myself to be captured, so my mantra regarding the grenades remained ‘one for you and one for me’. To the best of my memory, I had not had occasion to fire my weapon since arriving in Viet Nam months earlier, so I had the ages old soldiers debate with myself about “would I or wouldn’t I”.??? I knew that I would have to find my inner sergeant to get me through this, and what is an inner sergeant, anyway?

The hour of midnight arrived after what seemed like an eternity and I was still reporting to my recently located inner sergeant. I looked out to the east beyond the runways and saw tracers in the night moving in opposing directions. It was Tet in Bien Hua and the battle for the airbase had begun. I isolated myself between the conex containers and looked out occasionally. The VC did not approach the tarmac. It was obvious that there was no one there (I saw to that by staying out of sight). The battle continued as the new day progressed. By 2 am I was beginning to consider what I would have to do should the plane not return. No one on the base knew that I was there and I didn’t want to be mistaken as the enemy! Days later (it seemed), there it was! The C130 dropped out of the sky and headed straight to my rig. It spun around to be ready to take off. The rear cargo door was already open. The crew hooked the skid my rig was on to cables that winched the entire rig into the cargo bay. In an instant, the rig was secure, I was installed in a web seating arrangement on the side of the cargo bay, and the door was closed. I was told not to worry. If I were to be hit, I wouldn’t feel anything (ever again). We roared down the runway and became airborne. We had caught the VC off guard and they were not able to do us any damage in spite of their best efforts. We took a few small arms hits, but

3 nothing important was affected. We were in the air. What I didn’t know at that time is that some other bases in the south region were also under attack and we flew over the whole mess.

Phu Bai, 30 January 1968

It was daylight in Phu Bai when we landed. It was much quieter in Phu Bai as Tet would not start in the North until 3 am on the 31st. I was reunited with my team and now I was in charge of three soldiers as well as myself. When my team had arrived the evening before, they had made contact with the command bunker and had been assigned to a hooch (a roof with screen walls) and were able to get some sleep. The rig was off-loaded and we transported it to a field outside of the command bunker where the hut containing our equipment and office was lifted off and placed on the ground. One of my team members then took me to where we were quartered and I went to sleep. In the meantime my team readied the rig for operation and, having discovered that we now had a duce-and-a-half at our disposal and no mission for the operation of the rig, drove around the area, found a place to store the munitions, and ‘acquired’ numerous cases of c-rations.

The hooch in which I was sleeping had little space available and was populated by marines. Per my research, Company A had been sent on what turned out to be a wild goose chase to the South on route 1. Coincidently, the hooch was empty when I first encountered it and was almost empty when I woke up around noon?. There was one other Army soldier who had also been quartered there and my team had returned from their excursion. I had C-rations for lunch! The other soldier quartered with us told us that he had been there for a couple of months and had been to Hue, which was only 8 miles (12 clicks) up the road. When he learned that we were in possession of the duce-and-a-half, and had never seen Hue, he offered to drive us and show us around. He indicated that it was a beautiful city and was worth seeing. As we had no assigned duties at the time, we agreed to take this trip.

Some additional background is appropriate here. The command bunker mentioned above near which our rig had been placed in a grassy field housed the Army generals who were in charge of the entire northern sector of South Vietnam. General Westmorland made his appearance a few weeks later, making it central command for all of South Vietnam while he was there. Our rig was designated to provide secure communications with intelligence units embedded in Hue, Khe Sahn, and Quang Tri in preparation for an expected NVA (North Vietnamese Army) offensive sometime after Tet. A cease-fire had been negotiated with Hanoi, which was due to start on Tet. The generals thought they had time and they were in the process of moving many units to new locations. In the meantime, the ARVAN (South Vietnam Army) General, with headquarters in the north east corner of the Citadel (a walled city within a city) in north Hue was sorting thru reports from his scouts and becoming very nervous, but not enough so that he would sound the alarm. He did set up some listening posts that belatedly confirmed his

4 suspicions that the offensive was coming. He had allowed many of his troops to take leave to go home for the Tet celebration, so he was left with a skeleton staff at his site. The Citadel made up a large part of the city of Hue on the north side of the Perfume River that was very close to the ocean and thus was very wide at this location. There was a bridge over the Perfume River connecting the south side of the river where the city had spread. The city on the south side of the river was called ‘New City’. The university was next to the road (route 1) leading to the bridge and the MACV site was located across route 1 from the University to the east. Not known to us at the time, the Viet Kong were entering the Citadel wearing clothes suggesting that they were pilgrims coming to the temple for Tet and others were on both sides of the river in ARVAN uniforms prepared to perform various tasks, such as blowing up the key bridges. I knew none of this at the time, but this will help understand the events to come that most affected me.

The trip there and back again, Hue, 30 January 1968

We (our new friend who drove, and my team who rode on the benches in back, and me (in the ‘shotgun’ seat) set out for Hue midafternoon. The truck had no cover on back or over the cabin and the windshield was down in combat mode. The sky was overcast and there was a chill in the air. New city was only 11 clicks (kilometers) (about 8 miles) north of our hooch in Phu Bai. I don’t remember traveling the road to Hue, but my memory kicked in when we crossed a canal that was just south of ‘New City’. The canal ran parallel to the Perfume River (roughly East- West). The bridge was high and gave us a great view of the city. ‘New city’ Hue was indeed beautiful. Everything was very neat and well laid out. The people were well dressed and all that we saw were very attractive and clean (in contrast to the people of other towns in Viet Nam to the South of which I was already familiar).

From the bridge, we proceeded into the city south of the river. It was even more beautiful up close. As we neared the river, the university was on our left. Students were walking on the paths and it was clear that war was far away for them. It was the most peaceful sight that I had seen anywhere in Viet Nam. I was looking forward to the crossing of the river and a tour of the Citadel! Unknown to me at the time, the MACV site, which was to be the only place in Hue that was not complete occupied by the invading forces, was to our right. In spite of the overcast skies and the chill in the air, what a beautiful day it was!

As we approached the entrance to the bridge, we encountered several (possibly three) men dressed in ARVAN (South Vietnamese Army) uniforms who commanded us to pull over. I remained in the truck as the driver got out to find out what they wanted of us. An argument ensued and I became very nervous as the euphoria I had been experiencing just moments before quickly dissipated. Suddenly, the damp, chill air became uncomfortable and made me shiver. I readied my weapon and instructed my team to keep their eyes open and their heads

5 down without being obvious to the ‘ARVAN’ soldiers. It seemed like the argument would never end! Finally, our driver returned to the truck and told us that we would have to go back to Phu Bai. I don’t remember the total of his comments, but this was the message received. I got out of the truck to guide the driver as he turned around in a narrow space. When the truck was facing South, I reloaded myself and we began the trip back to Phu Bai.

Before I continue the trip ‘back again’, I will talk about the ‘ARVAN’ soldiers who were guarding the bridge. The Citadel was breached three hours or so after midnight and the ARVAN general in the north east corner of the Citadel called his troops back to help defend the city. One group approached the city from the south on the same road that we had traveled such a short time before and they encountered a SAPPER unit dressed in ARVAN uniforms at the entrance to the bridge. The report indicates that all the members of the SAPPER unit were killed and that it was believed that they were assigned to blow up the bridge. The report also indicated that the ARVAN general did not have guards at the bridges on the afternoon of the 30th. If I am correct about this, we were very fortunate that the ‘ARVAN’ guards we encountered could not reveal who they really were for fear of giving away the upcoming offensive, and that we were able to drive away as we did!

Most of the memories of the trip back again have been hidden from me for 46 years and are only now returning. Based on the flashes of memory that have returned to me recently, I am confident that what I am about to describe actually occurred as I describe it. These memories, while hidden, have been a source of my PTSD that I only discovered and began to try to deal with less than eight years prior to the writing of this document.

As we approached the bridge over the canal I became more nervous and we were all watchful. Crossing the canal invoked images of what we might see on the other side. I don’t have a clear memory of what we actually saw as we reached the top of the bridge, but I believe that just a few clicks down the road (going South) we observed a skirmish between someone with a weapon and several people that appeared to be villagers at a distance to the East. We kept going. About two thirds of the way back we heard rifle fire to our front and slightly to the West of the road. I told the driver to keep going and told my team in back to keep their heads down. I was suddenly calm and clear on what I had to do. I readied my rifle and mentally reviewed what I had been taught in basic training. I reviewed the various positions that best allowed for steady support of the rifle. As I was sitting in a moving vehicle, I experimented with a mix of the standing position and the sitting position. Time stood still and waited until I was ready as the actual situation was revealed to me.

As we drew closer, we saw three VC soldiers who were near the road firing their weapons into a group of people who were further to the West of the road. These people turned out to be women and children from the nearby village. It is my belief that these people were family

6 members of men of the village who had been working for the Americans in Phu Bai. As we got closer, the VC turned their weapons on us. I took aim and fired two shots. One of the VC soldiers was eliminated. My strongest memory of that moment was that the shell casings had landed in the cabin of the truck, and they were hot. This annoyed me, and I mentioned this to the driver (I can only imagine what he must have been thinking at that moment!). At some point (probably just before and causing the pause) I was struck in the helmet (the world war II steel helmet that could double as a wash basin) and it flew off my head and into the back where my team retrieved it and returned it to me. I looked it over and found no indentations and was amazed at how sturdy the helmet was. I believe that I suffered a concussion, which teamed up with the emotional trauma to cause the severe memory loss. I then tried out a new firing position that would expel the shell casings out of the cabin and I put only the helmet liner back on my head. I remember looking down the sight and, as I was on a moving vehicle, I was able to bring the sights across the target from low to high and squeeze a shot off as I crossed the target. I fired four more shots with the casings exiting the cabin and we were no longer in immediate peril. I then ordered the driver (I had found my inner sergeant after all) to pull up adjacent to the civilians. I wanted to see if anyone had survived this heinous attack. Before I could consider getting out of the vehicle for a better look, a mortar round exploded nearby, convincing me that we had to move on quickly, much to the relief of my team! We saw a puff of smoke along a tree line, so I sent a parting shot their way. As we proceeded, the mortar rounds followed us.

As we negotiated the last two or so miles, we continued to receive mortar fire and observed a Vietnamese man and woman being struck by shrapnel and presumably killed by another ‘near miss’. By the time we returned to the hooch, the marines were back. I don’t remember where we left the truck, but it was nearby. One of the marines showed us where we could get a cold shower, so I wrapped a towel around me and walked the crude boardwalk to the facility. I remember feeling refreshed after.

The accounts indicate that the Phu Bai airstrip was hit with mortar fire that afternoon. What we had witnessed we were unable to stop in time. Fortunately for us, I was a much better shot that the VC soldiers we faced and I was wearing a steel helmet … until they knocked it off, as I was exposed the whole time that they were shooting at us! In my actual memories, the targets are a light grey and regarding the civilians, I see multiple colors, but predominately red.

Back In Phu Bai

My next memory, and it is a clear one, was back in the hooch. My team and driver were there. It was evening. I was cleaning my weapon. I remember retrieving the cleaning material from the butt of the rifle and disassembling it on my cot. I had removed the magazine and refilled it with seven bullets that were freely given by a marine. I only fired six times to eliminate the

7 three Viet Cong. As I considered this anomaly, a new memory was returned! When the first mortar shell landed near us and I gave the order to get moving, I took one more shot at what appeared to be the mortar emplacement. I also remember conversations with some of the marines who apparently had been brought up to speed with the events of our day. They were consoling me and talking about how hard ‘it’ is the first time. At some point we talked about the duce-and-a-half that I was in possession of. They indicated that it would come in handy if they could use it for a while and I gave my OK (I have no memory of seeing it again). A bit later, someone came around with gas masks for all of us and indicated that a gas attack was suspected. It never happened, but I remember testing the mask, once again using information I had obtained in basic training. I then fell asleep. I believe that my memory of the day’s events had already been blocked.

Phu Bai, 31 January, 1968

The next thing I remember I was being awakened by explosions nearby. It was about 4 in the morning. There was only one other person in the hooch as I pulled my boots on. We went together to find a bunker where we could take shelter. It was the 31st of January, 1968 and the Tet offensive had begun in the North! We walked down the rows of hooch’s and turned left at the first road. We found an above ground bunker, but it was full. We sat down with our backs to the bunker so that we were protected from anything that might land on the other side. After a while, an all clear was sounded and we went back to the hooch and resumed our much needed sleep. Note that the marines had been there but were gone when I woke up. According to accounts, company A was in Phu Bai that evening and they were rousted out of bed early on the 31st to head up the road we had just traversed to find out what was going on in Hue. There was very little intelligence available to them, so they were sent there with little knowledge of what to expect. The account also tells of an army truck with two 50 caliber machine guns attached supporting their effort. Many of them died that day trying to cross the same bridge that we were turned away from.

When I woke up later that morning, I learned that a marine helicopter was hit during the attack the night before. I took another walk to the west. I walked by the bunker I had used for shelter earlier that morning, and a short distance up the road I found a large helicopter, a double bladed, troop and heavy equipment hauler. The damage appeared to be minor, but it had to be repaired before it could be used again. My team and I got together once again. We determined that a bunker near out hooch would be in our best interests. This project was started and completed the next day. We walked over to where our teletype office was located and received orders from the command bunker to get on the air. We were given frequencies to use to connect to the three critical combat areas in Hue, Khe Shan and Quang Tri. We were also ordered to stay on the air 24/7 until further notice (a world war II reference – “for the

8 duration”). I assigned two of my team to the 6am to 6pm shift and the 6pm to 6am shift was left for the third team member and me. The duration turned out to be the next two months before a signal company support arrived from the States and relieved us.

There were other adventures before I was finally sent to Okinawa for discharge in early June, but this concludes the events of the two days (48 hours) that changed my life forever.

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