Master Chief (9 page)

Reveille was at 0400. At 0530 I was sitting on the edge of a Navy Sea Lord slick’s starboard door with my legs hanging out and my boots just touching the skids. We were flying at about one hundred feet altitude and ninety knots airspeed.

I loved to look down and watch the moon’s reflections on the many canals, streams, and rice paddies and inhale the strangely aromatic smells of the Vietnamese delta. The cool, moist morning air was, on occasion, the cause of chill bumps that started at the crown of my head, prickling their way down my body to the tips of my toes. There was always something timeless, mystifying, and exhilarating about those experiences. No doubt, much of it was nothing more than youthful exuberance, love of living life to its fullest and absolute confidence in my infallibility.

We eventually crossed the QL-4 highway, headed north for a few kilometers and started circling. Because the Black Ponies couldn’t see the targets to begin prepping the tree lines, Dai Uy agreed that it was necessary for one of the Seawolves to drop two one-million-candlelight para flares. Four flares later the Seawolves led the aerial assault.

After the last para flares started sputtering down, we inserted by Sea Lord slicks near the bunkered hootches. While our Navy buddies in the air continued blasting the nearby tree line about two hundred meters west of our insertion point with rockets and minigun fire, we exited our slicks blazing away at the two bunkered hootches and their immediate area.

Initially, I had a hard time judging the distance to the bunkers—approximately two hundred meters—because it was so dark. However, I soon got the range and lay the 40mm HE rounds right on target. Most of the red tracers from our Stoners, M-60s, and M-16s were ricocheting in an inverted dovetail wedge until they were dispersed by brilliant flashes from our detonating 40mm HE rounds.

Lieutenant Fletcher’s 1st Squad and Vietnamese were on right flank, while ENS Kleehammer’s 2nd Squad, my Vietnamese, and I were on left flank. The VC bunkers were at twelve o’clock, or straight ahead. Basically, Dai Uy had set a frontal skirmish line for maximum firepower
and command and control. I was lobbing 40mm HE rounds directly into the bunkers with my XM-148 while everyone else was doing the same with their weapons. Dai Uy fired several M-72 LAAWs at one of the bunkers with deadly effect.

After we reached the two bunkers, the Vietnamese trung uy and his six men coaxed an old man and two small boys from a nearby bunker before they threw hand grenades into it. When things had settled down a bit the trung uy and his men interrogated the old man and learned that six VC had run for the tree line shortly after the first para flares had been dropped.

The Seawolves continued to drop para flares while we searched the area hootches for bodies and VC. I almost stepped directly on a very large water buffalo bull that was lying in his favorite mud hole. He snorted and jumped up and I jumped back. My trigger finger had squeezed back about four of the five-pound trigger pull. It’s a Mexican standoff! I thought. However, when Brutus violently shook his horns at a range of four feet, I decided to retreat.

“I hope you realize just how lucky your are, you ugly SOB,” I told the old bull while I slowly retreated around the corner of a flimsy hootch.

We searched other hootches and bunkers in the area, with negative results. However, we did find the fleeing VC’s personal gear in plastic bags that they had abandoned when they were heading for the tree line. Interestingly, I had three 40mm HE dud rounds, the Vietnamese had five dud hand grenades, and Dai Uy had one dud M-72 LAAW. Apparently, “Hanoi Jane” and her Communist henchmen were very successful in their sabotage of U.S. ordnance at the ordnance factories. Someday, Jane, I muttered to myself as we prepared to extract, you’ll reap your rewards for
all of the American blood you’ve shed and the misery you’ve caused through your treasonous works.

On July sixteenth Dai Uy got the platoon together and told us that NavForV and our SpecWar command didn’t really want us operating in Vietnam anymore. They wanted to ensure that we left Vietnam with a good record. The next day, Dai Uy received a message from CTF 116 canceling all SEAL ops until further notice. The only exceptions were Bright Light ops—the rescue of U.S. POWs. All hands were disappointed, frustrated, and pissed.

“Dai Uy, that’s what I call pulling out your six-gun and shootin’ yourself in the foot,” I said. “It’ll be difficult for us to maintain our operational readiness without continuing to operate.”

“We can’t just sit around here sucking suds and playing volleyball either. Why don’t they—” Chambo began before Fletcher cut him off.

“I understand all of this, guys,” he said as he stood up and stretched his back. “However, when the commodore tells us we have to squat, then we’ll squat. But I think we’ll be allowed to operate within a few days. In that light, let’s continue to plan and prepare for future operations.”

On July twentieth Doc Holmes, NavForV combat photographers PO1 Shiplette and Chief Rainwater, interpreter Hoan, and I drove to the Sam Giang subsector to notify Captain Campbell that we were going to Ba To’s hamlet for MEDCAPs. From Subsector we drove one and a half klicks west on the remains of a country road to a bridge that was located near an ARVN outpost and parked our jeep. It was a beautiful day for a two-and-a-half-mile patrol to Ba To’s hamlet. After we had reached the hamlet, I debriefed Ba To while Shiplette and Chief Rainwater took pictures and wrote notes about the medical needs of the villagers for an article in “The Jackstaff News.”

When we returned to Dong Tam later that afternoon,
Dai Uy got the good news from SpecWar staff that we would be operating again soon.

Dai Uy went on to explain, “The rules of engagement haven’t changed; however, SpecWar staff is just letting us know that if we get into any political trouble, we can’t look to them for any help. Be advised boys, we must keep our noses clean at all costs.”

Chambo had about all he could take. He stood up and angrily exclaimed, “What a bunch of assholes, man! Is there any possible way we can get those guys out into the field with us, Dai Uy?”

“Yeah, Dai Uy! Let’s use them as ammo bearers for Little Bear’s M-60 bandoleers,” Waneous teased.

Barron was totally unimpressed with his new sobriquet. He smiled, then said, “I don’t get mad, you bunch of wimps—”

Everyone replied in unison with, “Oooooohhhhhhh.”

Not to be outdone, Little Bear continued, “I just get even.”

Dai Uy had sensed that the Yahoos were about to start a rout and managed to interject, “I have a message from the comm center that says Chief Bassett, here, is now a senior chief petty officer and Mr. Kleehammer is now a lieutenant (jg)! Hoo-Yah! Have at it, boys!”

Bassett, knowing he was going to get it, tried to save himself by shouting, “I’m throwing twenty dollars on the bar. The drinks are on me!”

The twenty-first to the twenty-fourth of July were spent taking care of the many administrative details for Kit Carson scout discharge and recruitment, administrative and operational organization of intel/info nets, and preparing for our next operation once we got the go-ahead from NavForV via SpecWar staff.

On the afternoon of the twenty-fourth, Dai Uy returned from Binh Thuy and briefed the platoon about the new rules of engagement: the enemy had to initiate a firefight
before we were allowed to return fire. Fortunately, the new rules didn’t restrict us any more than before in our combined ops with PSB operatives. If there was an inadvertent killing of a legal VCI—a VC Communist who had acquired a South Vietnamese ID card illegally and whose name wasn’t on the provincial Phuong Hoang committee’s blacklist—PSB’s chief Hue would have taken care of the details because he was administratively in charge of our combined ops with his PSB operatives. In other words, we were supporting
his
operations. We also had the blessings of the province chief, Colonel Dao, the Provincial National Police Chief Muoi, and our U.S. intelligence collection agency friends. The more VC/VCI killed or captured, the better the Vietnamese provincial Phoenix program looked.

After Dai Uy had briefed everyone, Mr. Kleehammer and I went to My Tho and picked up a PSB operative to accompany him on that night’s river interdiction of a small civilian ship that was distributing heroin. It seemed strange to me, at that time, that the province chief, the province’s National Police, and the Police Special Branch chiefs were committing only one operative to the op. Even the U.S. Navy had committed two Customs agents to the operation. Because I had a very bad head and chest cold, Ensign Kleehammer took the rest of 2nd Squad and accompanied Lieutenant (jg) Washburn, his crew, and the two Customs lads aboard the Mobile Support Team’s MSSC and LSSC boats to interdict the drug runners. According to intelligence, the drug-laden ship was proceeding upstream toward Cambodia and would off-load heroin near Dong Tam that night. Tu Uy’s plan was for the MST/BSU (Mobile Support Team/Boat Support Unit) boats to locate the ship using starlight scopes as the MSSC and LSSC cruised quietly up and down the My Tho River on planned avenues of surveillance. Once the
ship was located, the MSSC would lead the way at low speed until they reached the ship or were compromised. If the element of surprise was blown, they would simply make a frontal assault and continue the operation.

The LSSC would follow in the MSSC’s wake until the action began, maintain control of river traffic, and suppress any small arms or recoilless rifle fire from the beach with its three M-60 7.62mm machine guns, one M-2.50-caliber machine gun, one MK-19 40mm automatic grenade launcher, and one six-barreled minigun, which fired up to six thousand 7.62mm rounds per minute.

The boarding party was to consist of Trung Uy, 2nd Squad—nine men total—and a couple of our SAS mates with their Stoners, M-60s and SLRs, and Knepper’s M-16/XM-148 40mm grenade launcher. The tricky part of the plan required climbing over the gunwale—the upper edge or rail of a ship’s or boat’s side—by means of a Jacob’s ladder or gangway, quickly neutralizing the security forces and taking control of the bridge without receiving too many casualties. After the ship was under control, the PSB operative and the two U.S. Customs agents would board and officially seize the contraband.

Kleehammer, Washburn, and crews returned to Dong Tam about 2300. They had been unable to locate the merchant ship. The ship’s first mate must have had friends in high places.

While Mr. Kleehammer and our MST mates were having fun on the river, the rest of us watched the movie
Kelly’s Heroes
. It was an interesting WWII vintage story of a few deceitful and unscrupulous individuals totally obsessed with the desire for wealth. All of us were delighted with Donald Sutherland’s humor as a Sherman tank commander. We cheered his disdain for any form of negative thoughts or words by saying, “No negative waves, maaaan.” Each time he commanded his tanks to
advance or assault the enemy, he waved his arm forward and yelled, “Yaaaaooooooooohhhh,” like the calvary commander in the John Wayne movies. We swore that on all of our future helo ops we would exit the Sea Lord slicks screaming “Yaaaaoooooooooohhhhhhh” as we assaulted the VC targets. It was easy to have fun with highly motivated teammates.

On the morning of July twenty-fifth at 0900, Dai Uy gave us our warning order for that evening’s helo op. All hands spent the remainder of the morning carefully preparing their gear. At about 1100 Dai Uy was notified that elements of the ARVN 7th Division were within one klick (one kilometer) of our target area. It seemed that whenever we cleared AOs in Cai Lai or Cai Be districts, the ARVN 7th directed units to move near the edge of our AOs and set up blocking elements. It was unfortunate for us because after units of the 7th moved into place, the VC/NVA became suspicious and vacated the immediate area.

After lunch, Dai Uy and I drove to Cai Be subsector (Camp Schraeder) and discussed the problem with the Army advisers and district PSB chief Muoi. The consensus was to wait another twenty-four hours and hope that the ARVN 7th units would withdraw, thinking we weren’t going into the area. We also learned that the day before, a company of RFs (Regional Force ARVNs) were nearly annihilated. They had been patrolling approximately two klicks above our next target, just above Snoopy’s nose—a hairpin curve in a stream that separated Cai Lai and Cai Be districts—and were within one hundred meters of a PF outpost when they were ambushed at 1700 by a large enemy unit suspected of being the VC 261B MF Battalion. The RFs had twenty-four KIA, eighteen MIA, and fifteen WIA. The VC’s element of surprise was so complete that the surviving remnant threw down their weapons and fled. All of their weapons
and three hard-to-get PRC-25 radios had been lost. Because of their panic, they had also failed to call for air and/or artillery support.

After our return to Dong Tam, Doc got word from MARS—radio communications to CONUS—that his wife had had a baby boy who weighed six pounds fourteen ounces. The joyful Doc brought out champagne and beer to commemorate the birth of his son. The refreshments were shared as thanksgiving for the divine gifts that his wife and son were in good health. It was a night filled with goodwill, merriment, and fraternal brotherhood.

After breakfast on the morning of July twenty-seventh, we were again very busy preparing our gear for that afternoon’s helo op. Dai Uy had had to delay the op for an additional day until the ARVN 7th unit departed from the edge of our AO and Sea Lord slicks from HAL-3 became available. Later, at 1000, Fletcher gave the warning order followed by the patrol leader’s order at 1530. Our targets were several Communist Mang political indoctrination committee members. They were a newly created North Vietnamese administrative level of political control that was established between the district and village levels of government in contested areas. One source of information reported that replacement units of the NVA’s 111th Infantry Regiment, which supported the local VC company-sized units, was in the area of the Mang committee cadre’s hootches.

After we had driven to the helo pad at 1700, we rehearsed assault formations, hootch search and seizure, prisoner handling, squad formations, and other SOPs.