They Marched Into Sunlight (87 page)

When we finished our visit, Kyle Horst told me about something he had heard the last time he was in the area, something about a memorial not too far away. One of Lam’s sons said he knew where it was, so he came along with us. We got lost, stopped for directions, and backtracked twice, but finally found someone who could take us there. Our van stopped in the middle of nowhere, it seemed. There was a forest to our right, and we walked several hundred yards through the brush and the trees until we reached a small clearing, and there stood a large marker. It loomed several feet above us, shiny marble, with intricate maps and a battle flag and writings etched on both sides. Someone had put a lot of effort into creating the marker, but no one had bothered to maintain it. For all practical purposes, it was a lost memorial, with no guides, no signs telling people how to get to it, nothing. “You wouldn’t just stumble on it,” said Clark. The Vietnamese locals told us we were the first foreigners ever to visit this spot.

One part of the marker read, in Vietnamese: “From 4
P.M
. 26 April 75 to 11:30 30 April 75, this HCMC [Ho Chi Minh Campaign] headquarters commanded a decisive battle to capture and liberate all of Saigon and the provinces of the Mekong Delta, concluding the historic Ho Chi Minh campaign, completing victory in the American imperialist war of aggression and completing the democratic national revolution in the entire nation.”

Who could have guessed that here, only a few kilometers from where the Black Lions fought and died on October 17, 1967, the command of the North Vietnamese Army, eight years later, would organize the final battle of the long war.

O
N
F
EBRUARY 7
, our last full day in Vietnam, we rode a Russian-built hydrofoil down the Saigon River to Vung Tau, the resort town on the South China Sea. A cabbie drove us across the peninsula to what was known as Back Beach. It was lined with restaurants and resort hotels, and if you didn’t look at the Vietnamese lettering, you could have thought you were at Port Aransas or Mustang Island along the Texas coast. We stopped in a parking lot, and Clark Welch walked with me toward the beach and pointed to the spot where he and Bud Barrow stood with their makeshift Delta Company flag, waiting for their new soldiers. Then we took a cyclo ride over to Nui Nho, the little mountain, and climbed to the top. The steep, winding path was lined with benches, each one donated by a Catholic parish in the States. There were hundreds more on the mountaintop, more than ever could be used. They were meant for the mind more than the body, reminders, connections, from past to present, there to here. Etched into each bench was the name of an American city, from Atlanta to West Chester, all the places where Vietnamese refugees had resettled when they fled their country after the war. Rising above the benches was a giant statue of Christ, his head encircled by a halo, his arms outstretched, facing the sea. This odd little mountain of Catholic belief at the entryway to a communist land.

It was such a soothing afternoon, with a refreshing breeze. A Vietnamese boy in a hang glider soared and looped silently, like an angel, above our heads. I sat on a bench at the edge of the mountain, the statue rising behind me, and looked down past two old French cannons to the arc of white sand and blue-green sea far below, and thought about the USNS
Pope,
and how once, long ago, it came to a stop right at that spot, and the young soldiers of C Packet—George, Grady, Landon, Troyer, Sena, Farrell, Griego, Colburn, Cron, Nagy, Garcia, Reece, McMeel, Warner, Tallent, Miller, Taylor, McGath, and Schroder—clambered down the Jacob’s ladders, rolled in on the landing craft, made their way ashore, and marched into sunlight.

Notes

T
HE NARRATIVE
of this book is based on primary sources: hundreds of letters and journal entries, thousands of archival documents, and interviews with 180 people. Many subjects were interviewed several times; they are usually listed by date of the first interview. The vast majority of documents were found at ten exceptional archives:

National Archives at College Park, Md. (NARA)

U.S. Army Center of Military History, Fort McNair, Washington, D.C. (CMH)

U.S. Military History Institute, Carlisle Barracks, Carlisle, Pa. (MHI)

University of Wisconsin–Madison Archives Oral History Project, Steenbock Memorial Library, Madison (UW)

State Historical Society of Wisconsin, Madison (SHSW)

LBJ Presidential Library, Austin, Tex. (LBJ)

First Division Museum at Cantigny, Wheaton, Ill. (FDM)

National Personnel Records Center, St. Louis, Mo. (NPRC)

University of Texas at El Paso Library Special Collections Department (UTEP)

Post Street Archives, Midland, Mich. (PSA)

Chapter 1: Sailing to Vung Tau

No one at the military base:
Ints. Jim George, May 27, 2001; Tom Grady, March 5, 2000.

When they could, the bored:
Ints. Greg Landon, June 19, 2002; Mike Troyer, August 21, 2002; Peter Miller, August 27, 2002.

“Morale of the men”:
Greg Landon letters to parents, June 8–30, 1967.

Schroder was a quiet:
Int. with Eleanor Schroder Clark, January 3, 2001.

“Was woke up this morning”:
Journal of Pvt. Jack Schroder, July 5, 1967.

That evening a posse of privates:
Michael Taylor letter to parents, July 5, 1967.

at their own private going-away:
Int. Tom Grady, March 5, 2000.

It was the USNS
General John Pope:
Dictionary of American Fighting Ships,
Department of the Navy, Washington, D.C.

When sunlight hit:
Ints. Tom Grady, March 27, 2002; Faustin Sena, October 18, 2002.

Not long after they shoved off:
Schroder journal; ints. Faustin Sena, October 18, 2002; Michael Taylor, October 19, 2002; Santiago Griego, October 19, 2002; Bill McGath, October 19, 2002.

The only good part of the voyage:
Int. Tom Grady, March 5, 2000.

Private Landon, who also kept a diary:
Greg Landon shipboard journal, July 5–28, 1967.

News from the outside world: Pope Pourri,
editions of July 15–20, 1967. The front page of the shipboard newspaper on the 15th featured an illustration of a bikini-clad woman wearing a USNS
Pope
float around her middle. Each day’s edition included a position report. On the 15th they were at 30 06 N latitude and 175 06 W longitude. The
Pope
had steamed 3,007 miles and had 3,063 to go. Also ints. Santiago Griego, October 18, 2002; Mike Taylor, October 19, 2002; Greg Landon, June 19, 2002.

That last sigh of relief:
Int. Jim George, May 27, 2001. Also George letters to wife Jackie, July 7–28, 1967.

Thoughts of killing also raced:
Ints. Mike Troyer, August 21, 2002; Peter Miller, August 27, 2002; Bill McGath, October 19, 2002; also letters of Mike Taylor from USNS
Pope
to parents, July 8–27, 1967.

Whether it was mass dyslexia:
Jack Schroder journal, July 5–28, 1967. Also ints. Faustin Sena, May 27, 2001; Santiago Griego, October 18, 2002.

They reached Okinawa at nine:
Jack Schroder journal, July 22, 1967; Greg Landon journal, July 22, 1967; int. Mike Troyer, August 21, 2002.

The troops who scrambled off:
Ints. Tom Grady, March 27, 2002; Jim George, May 27, 2001; Jack Schroder journal, July 5–28, 1967.

The morning sunrise was soothing:
Mike Troyer letter to parents, July 24, 1967. Ints. Jim George, May 27, 2001; Peter Miller, August 27, 2002.

Soldiers line the deck:
NARA military film archive, October 7 landing by 1st Infantry cameraman Bigley. Carland,
Stemming the Tide,
66.

The four-star general and the
ao dai
wisps:
Int. Doug Tallent, October 19, 2002.

modern-day Don Quixote and Sancho Panza:
Ints. Clark Welch, January 28–February 8, 2002; Clarence Barrow, October 16, 2000.

It was raining when they arrived:
Ints. Greg Landon, June 19, 2002; Mike Troyer, August 20, 2002; Jim George, May 27, 2001; Tom Grady, March 27, 2002.

Chapter 2: Triet’s March South

He was a southerner, the sixth son:
Descriptions of Triet’s early life, experiences marching south down the Truong Son range in 1961, and service with the 1st Regiment based on author interviews with Vo Minh Triet in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, January 30, 31, February 7, 2002, Kyle Horst translator.

Nguyen Dinh Chieu, the great blind poet:
“Funeral Oration for the Partisans of Can Giuoc, Nguyen Dinh Chieu,”
Vietnamese Literature,
Hanoi, 1980.

It was to be a temporary separation: Documents Related to the Implementation of the Geneva Agreements Concerning Vietnam,
181–83; United States Senate, Committee on Foreign Relations,
Background Information Relating to Southeast Asia and Vietnam,
1967.

In the official military history: Su Doan 9,
People’s Army Publishing House, Hanoi, translated by Foreign Broadcast Information Service, 8.

knew much about these arriving Americans:
James G. Zumwalt ints. with 9th Division Col. Ta Minh Kham, 1995, and Nguyen Song, political commissar for 2nd regiment, 9th Division. Zumwalt, a Marine Corps Vietnam veteran and son of the late Admiral Elmo Zumwalt Sr., spent several years interviewing former Viet Cong and North Vietnamese Army veterans. His interest began after the death of his brother, Elmo Zumwalt Jr., another Vietnam veteran who served in heavily defoliated areas and whose cancer was believed to have been caused by exposure to the herbicide Agent Orange. James Zumwalt and his father helped pressure the U.S. government to recognize health problems related to Agent Orange. During his many trips to Vietnam, James Zumwalt became curious about the daily lives of people fighting on the other side. His fascinating but as yet unpublished manuscript,
Bare Feet, Iron Will,
is based on the almost 200 interviews he conducted from 1994 to 2000.

Chapter 3: Lai Khe, South Vietnam

Before a massive repair job:
“Thunder Road,”
Danger Forward,
the magazine of the Big Red One, Vietnam, September 1967.

There was no one comparable:
Descriptions of Clark Welch based on letters from Welch to his wife Lacy, June–October 1967; documents of the 1st Infantry Division in Vietnam, NARA; and author interviews with Welch, January 28–February 8, 2002.

He would go nowhere without the new first sergeant:
Ints. Clark Welch, January 28–February 8, 2002; Clarence Barrow, October 16, 2000, October 18, 2002.

“We are called the Black Lions”:
Jack Schroder letter to wife Eleanor, August 3, 1967.

Mike Troyer wrote home:
Mike Troyer letter to parents, July 30, 1967.

A more subdued account:
Greg Landon letter to parents, July 31, 1967.

Sometimes the truth stretching:
Clark Welch letter to wife Lacy, August 9, 1967. In this letter, along with the story of the Walter Mittyish soldier, Welch related the psychological aspects of being a company commander. “I’ve got all the personnel problems of 175 men!” he wrote. “So far this has involved sending 2 back to the States and counseling 7 others…. I was a little bit concerned about all the counseling I’ve had to do until I heard what the other new Delta company here has had. They’ve got 5 AWOL and many, many other assorted things going on.”

“We had a beer party last night”:
Jack Schroder letter to wife Eleanor, August 10, 1967.

Mere days in country:
Letters from Greg Landon, Mike Troyer, Clark Welch, August 1–12, 1967.

There were always fucking new guys:
Ints. Tom Hinger, March 12, 2000; Joe Costello, November 3, 2000; Michael Arias, March 1, 2001; Steve Goodman, November 20, 2000.

Danny Sikorski was another gunner:
Ints. Diane Sikorski Kramer, July 28, 2001; Edmund Sikorski, August 5, 2000; scrapbooks of Danny Sikorski and Diane Sikorski.

When Clark Welch took command of Delta:
Ints. Tom Grady, March 27, 2002; Jim George, May 27, 2001; Clark Welch letter to wife Lacy, August 5, 1967.

Chapter 4: El Paso, Texas

El Paso, on the verge of a boom: Fort Bliss–Past and Present,
Fort Bliss Visitors Bureau, January 1968. Ints. Consuelo Allen, February 2, 2001; Albert Schwartz, February 2, 2001, Jonathan and Pat Rogers, February 4, 2001.

In from the above-ninety heat:
Ints. Bill and Genevieve (Bebe) Coonly, February 2, 2001.

“My dear Sonny”:
Maj. Gen. Terry de la Mesa Allen Sr. letter to son, Terry Allen Jr., December 8, 1942, UTEP. The father signed off that letter, “A very merry Xmas, Old Top Pops.”

The soldier’s life went back:
“Allen and His Men,”
Time,
August 9, 1943, 32–36.

Ernie Pyle occasionally slept in his tent:
Ernie Pyle,
Here is Your War, America’s Favorite Correspondent Tells the Story of Our Soldiers’ First Big Campaign,
187–88.

General Omar Bradley yanked Allen from command:
Terry Allen Sr. letters, 1943, UTEP; Michael D. Pearlman,
To Make America Safe for Democracy,
249; “Allen and Huebner: Contrast in Command,” Col. Bryce F. Denno, Army, 1984.