Master Chief (22 page)

While Doc continued screeching, we moved forward to the second set of hootches, our secondary target. Hayden had the Seawolves begin their firing runs just behind our targeted hootches from three to nine o’clock, in hopes of killing any escapees, and to act as a blocking element. The two hootches were at twelve o’clock from our position. The gunship’s 7.62mm GAU-2 electric miniguns, .50-caliber machine guns, and 2.75-inch rockets started impacting from thirty meters to two hundred meters from our skirmish line. When the Seawolves had finished their runs, one of the PSB operatives fired a 40mm HE round into a hootch. Naturally, Knepper and I got into the foray and launched a few 40mm HEs into the hootch also. After we had let off a little steam, the PSB boys searched the hootch, with negative results. To make matters worse, the Sea Lord slicks notified Hayden that they were running low on fuel and that we would have to extract or patrol out of the area for 12½ klicks. After considering
our options, Roger took only a picosecond to request our extraction.

Hayden directed us to patrol northwest for fifty meters and set up our two H formations. The Sea Lords arrived with their spotlights searching for our H formations, but, because of the para flares, our blue-lens-covered strobe lights were very difficult for the helo crew to see. Since Doc was indisposed, Compton took up the slack and vectored the slicks to our position on his PRC-77 radio.

After our uneventful extractions, we flew to Cai Be district’s subsector and dropped off Chief Muoi and his five men. From there we had to fly to Vinh Long province to refuel at the U.S. Army base before returning to Dong Tam.

Once we had returned to our barracks, Doc immediately stripped and inspected the damage done to his dork.

“Doc, did you learn anything?” I asked Holmes as I handed him a four-shot hundred-proof Old Granddad bourbon whiskey straight with no ice.

Doc looked up at me and said emphatically, “Yeah! I’ll never wear any more button-type Levi’s in the field again. I hate Levi’s!” Doc grabbed the large dose of whiskey and downed it in one gulp.

The next few days were spent preparing for Knepper’s op in Kien Hoa province and Doc’s and my op in Cai Lay district, Dinh Tuong province. As always, Cai Lay district’s Major Kaike (DSA) and Captain Campbell (DIOCC adviser) were very supportive and encouraging.

Tae kwon do practice continued on schedule. One afternoon, Same got carried away and managed to hit me directly on the left side of my upper lip, causing my teeth to break through to the outside. We continued as if nothing had happened. Later, while I was sparring with Captain Kim, I jammed my thumb and index finger on my right hand. I had to wrap both of my hands before the next
day’s practice and hope Same didn’t pop me in the mouth again.

On October tenth Knepper gave his warning order and patrol leader’s order. He did a fine job. Later that night, Knepper, Hayden, Chambo, Same, and Tam were inserted in Ham Long district, Kien Hoa province by Lieutenant (jg) Washburn and his faithful MST crew. I didn’t go because of a sudden Asian flu bug that affected all of November Platoon at one time or another during that tour. That particular type of flu caused all platoon personnel to squirt out of both ends for a period of two to three days. It was a miserable illness, but paradoxically, the victim’s condition was amusing for everyone else. The ground below our stairways was splattered with vomit and, during emergencies, refuse from the south end of the body. No doubt our Vietnamese comrades below didn’t appreciate the stench or the mess.

When it was Roger Hayden’s turn to get sick, he begged “Bad Medicine” Doc tearfully, “Doc, you’ve got to do something for me! I’m dying! I hurt something awful. Give me a shot of anything to help me … please.”

Bad Medicine looked unmercifully into Roger’s bloodshot, pleading eyes and replied, “There’s nothing wrong with you, you wimp! Take two salt tablets and drink a glass of water.”

Poor Roger did his best to sit up in his top rack, and with a face filled with frustration and rage, he yelled, “You $#&!*#& SOB! If I could get out of this rack, I’d kick your &#?!%*$@# ass and %$&#! in the hole!”

It was one of the most hilarious situations I and a half dozen bystanders had ever seen. Of course, all of us encouraged Roger by whining like little puppy dogs. As we were always told in UDT training, “The only easy day was yesterday!” However, within thirty-six hours Roger had almost totally recovered from the flu. Maybe Bad
Medicine’s salt tablets did do some good after all, I thought.

The next morning Doc, Mojica, and I took a 60mm mortar, eight cases of 60mm illumination rounds, two cases of 40mm HE rounds, and one case of M-18A1 claymore antipersonnel mines to Ba To and his hamlet. As always, it was good to see Ba To. His people had managed to repair their command bunker and had gotten the generator working again.

Early that afternoon, Knepper and the guys returned about 1430 from their operation in Kien Hoa. They abducted three people: one old man of about fifty, his wife of thirty-three, and a younger woman. The old man was a member of a local VC assassination unit, according to the Phuong Huong committee’s blacklist.

Shortly after Knepper and crew returned, Lieutenant Todd, the Det Golf OIC, arrived from Binh Thuy. His task was to present to us Commodore Spruett’s (CTF 116) policies of our new “rules of engagement.” Basically, we could no longer go on any offensive operations. We were not to open fire on any enemy units except to defend ourselves after being fired upon first. Lieutenant Todd was a messenger bearing bad news, but we were smart enough not to blame him for the new restrictions.

Initially, all of us were very angry and upset because of the new and very restrictive rules of engagement. Apparently, NavForV and SpecWar staff were terrified that SEAL team personnel might commit some type of horrible atrocity before we withdrew from South Vietnam. Considering the worsening attitudes and frustrations of November and Oscar platoons, Staff’s fears were not totally unfounded.

After Lieutenant Todd had departed for Binh Thuy, Dai Uy called an all hands (MST included) meeting in our bar. Lieutenant Fletcher explained that everything seemed to
deteriorate when he sent a memo to Commodore Spruett via Det Golf, stating that approximately twenty percent of our operations were being compromised due to the requirement of clearing our AOs through the government channels at Sector and Subsector. Commodore Spruett forwarded Dai Uy’s memo to Admiral Salzer (NavForV) via SpecWar in Saigon. The admiral commented that if we thought our operations were compromised, then don’t operate. Furthermore, we were informed that we would not be allowed to utilize helos for combat insertions. Such operations were considered direct assaults and not clandestine SEAL-type operations. It appeared to me that the rules of engagement were intentionally ambiguous. Dai Uy Fletcher concluded by saying, “That means we will pretty well shut down except for Bright Light ops.”

We all agreed with our platoon commander. The remainder of our time in-country would be spent practicing tae kwon do, traveling to Cam Ranh Bay, attending Communications Security School at Nha Be, and so on.

The next day, October twelfth, Doc, Mojica, and I took another load of ordnance and fifteen hundred rounds of 7.62mm linked ammo to Ba To’s hamlet. We didn’t tell Ba To that we had been basically shut down operationally. As luck would have it, Ba To informed us that his action agent had decided to wait a few more weeks before coming out. I then explained to him that no helos would be available for some time due to extensive structural testing, which precluded us from going on any more missions in the near future. Everything worked out fine except that the sector ship wasn’t due to return until 1600. Doc, Mojica, and I walked the two or three miles to Subsector and called for the guys to come and get us.

Later, during tae kwon do practice, I tore the skin off the bottoms of my feet. Immediately after practice, we knew it was time for another healing session with the
inevitable three cans of ice-cold beer—one for the wound and two for the gullet. As it turned out, it was a night for everyone’s hedonistic spiritual and physical healings.

On our trip to Saigon the following morning, Doc caught the right side of our jeep’s windshield on a Vietnamese five-ton truck while trying to pass it on the narrow QL-4 highway. For a second I was certain that I would eat part of our windshield and defunct rearview mirror. After Doc pulled over, I got into the driver’s seat and drove us safely to Nha Be. There, we checked on our platoon pay records, ate lunch on the Navy’s APL-30, dropped Eberle and Little Bear off at SpecWar, and went to the PX at Tan Son Nhut.

Later, when we were between Cholon and Ben Luc on our way to Dong Tam, our jeep stopped running. Fortunately, we caught a ride with a Navy Seabee, who took us to SEAL Team 1’s Mike Platoon at Ben Luc, in Long An province. With a little fancy talk, we convinced Chief Norton to tow our jeep to their hootch and give us a ride to Dong Tam. By the time we had returned to Dong Tam, without our stolen jeep, it was almost dark. As it turned out, we never did get our jeep back from Mike Platoon—they sold it to the Vietnamese.

About noon on October nineteenth Lieutenant Todd called and told Dai Uy that he had good firsthand Bright Light (U.S. POW) information, and that a Sea Lord slick would arrive at our location within the hour to fly us to Binh Thuy. By 1600 hours Lieutenant Todd, Dai Uy, Trung Uy Kleehammer, and I had flown to Bac Lieu city and were briefed by the local naval intelligence liaison officer.

The Navy lieutenant gave us an overview of the situation. He told us that several South Vietnamese ARVNs had escaped the previous day from a VC POW camp that was well-hidden within the forbidding Dam Doi Secret Zone. The ARVN escapees had seen one U.S. Army staff
sergeant who was being held at that camp. Other sources confirmed that the staff sergeant was indeed a POW; however, no one was able to recruit informants who had access to the targeted coastal areas—those areas were almost totally controlled by the VC/NVA. There were several immediate disadvantages to our mission: (1) the government sector and probably subsector knew about the ARVN escapees, which meant that the VC were forewarned and forarmed; (2) the information was already over twenty-four hours old at that time; (3) the VC had always moved U.S. POWs to another location within hours of previous escapes; and (4) if the U.S. Army and Vietnamese ARVNs became involved, the whole operation would certainly be compromised before any of us left Sector. Essentially the SEALS probably wouldn’t have the benefit of tactical surprise if we decided to try to rescue the staff sergeant. As it turned out, there were even more formidable problems.

Our NDLO lieutenant then took us to the sector S-2 adviser, a U.S. Army major, for the sobering enemy order of battle surrounding the POW camp. There were approximately six hundred VC/NVA Main and Local forces within the Secret Zone. There were massive reinforced bunker complexes that ringed the POW camp. Even though the combined VC/NVA forces were undergoing training and reprovisioning, they would have been a formidable force to deal with on their home grounds. The Bac Lieu sector’s ARVNs and an ARVN 21st Infantry Division regiment had already refused to go into the Secret Zone. To make matters worse, the POW camp was surrounded by mangrove swamps and covered by thick jungle canopy. It looked like a stacked deck to me; however, the decision was not ours to make. Our U.S. and Vietnamese superiors elected not to allow November Platoon to attempt to rescue the American POW.

Dai Uy, Killer, and I were a quiet group during our return flight back to Dong Tam that evening. Apparently, we were all wondering what that staff sergeant would have done in our place.

Two days later, HAL-3, VAL-4, and SEAL Team 1 were presented the Vietnam government’s Unit Commendation ribbon and pennant with palm wreath and gold star, respectively. I had the honor of being the guidon for SEAL Team 1.

After our return to Dong Tam, November Platoon’s tae kwon do crew practiced our patterns and free-sparred for a couple of hours. The following day we would be tested on our tae kwon do techniques, physical conditioning, and proficiency by Captain Kim and Lee. If we passed the tests, we would be awarded blue belts.

The morning of October twenty-second began by field-daying (i.e., thoroughly cleaning) the barracks and surrounding areas. Several of the guys and I later worked on intelligence files and plotted Green Hornet (enemy radio transmission) positions on our situation maps with overlays until 1600 hours, when we secured for tae kwon do warm-up.

Captain Kim and Lee arrived at 1700 hours, gave a short introduction, and started our testing inside the extremely hot and humid metal Butler building. Each two-man pair was required to go through each pattern on command, followed by one-step sparring. After all four pairs were finished, Captain Kim had each pair free-spar for thirty seconds, rest thirty seconds, then free-spar for one more minute. After a short rest he had us start over again and free-spar for another thirty seconds. When we had completed all that was required, Captain Kim collected fifteen dollars from each of us for our blue belts and rating cards, which he would issue a few days later.
Until then, none of us would know what degree blue belt we had earned.

During the morning of October twenty-third, Lieutenant (jg) Wright was notified by SpecWar in Saigon that a five-ton truck would arrive at our location within the hour to load all of Oscar Platoon’s 2nd Squad and their gear for transit to Tan Son Nhut, where they would rendezvous with Lieutenant (jg) Walsh’s 1st Squad. On the following day, Oscar Platoon would depart for CONUS via Air Force C-130 to the Philippines, followed by the Navy’s VR-21 to NAS, North Island, Coronado, California. By 1300 hours Lieutenant (jg) Wright, BUC Jim Harris, and boys had departed for Saigon. I, for one, hated to see JJ and the guys depart—we enjoyed their company. Our barracks seemed strangely quiet and empty.