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In-Country Continued

Photo by William Dean

 

My older brother Bobby was in Vietnam at the same time. When I requested to go to Nam, I had to sign a waiver because he was already there. Seems the government had a policy against multiple family members being in combat at the same time. Being in the rear with my wounds gave me a chance to go visit him. This was his second tour in Nam. He was a navy corpsman attached to a Marine unit operating on top of Monkey Mountain near Da Nang. He and another corpsman ran the aid station there.

I had been able to catch an in-country air shuttle that took me from Camp Evans to Da Nang airbase. There I made a visit to the officers club while waiting for my brother to pick me up. In conversations with some of the Air Force officers I learned that for them, life in Nam was really "tuff". They slept in 2 story cinder block barracks that not only had air conditioning but hot showers. They also had maids that cleaned their rooms, kept their clothes washed and boots shined. The Air Force, however, considered that this was substandard, so they received extra pay for the "hardship". I just thought about the nights I had slept in the rain, on the ground, covered only by my poncho and poncho liner. I sure felt sorry for them.  

After returning to my platoon life continued to be exciting. We patrolled during the day and set up ambushes by night. A couple of times we worked with Army of the Republic of Vietnam (ARVN) units. This mostly consisted of helping protect resettlement villages. Seemed like we did most of the patrolling and being shot at, while ARVN stayed close to the villages. There were some areas, I discovered, where you could not get artillery fire support because the lands belonged to Vietnamese officials. Seems they did not want their property damaged.

This little fact hit home one night during an ambush on the coastal flats east of Camp Evans. We had been in the flats working for several days and believed that our positions were most likely known by the Viet Cong (VC). During this day we had passed a medium size graveyard that had lots of grave stones and high earth mounds. The Platoon Sgt. and I had decided that we would move past this location and appear to start setting up for the night. After dark we moved back the half mile to the graveyard. We reset our ambush and settled in.

During this patrol our company 1st Sgt. had come out by re-supply copter to see how things were. He stayed a couple of days, I guess he needed the field time for his Combat Infantryman's Badge (CIB). His being with us cost the platoon some kills this night.

Half way thru the night I was alerted by a squad leader that some VC had moved across a small creek to our front and had stopped. I moved so as to see them thru the starlight scope the platoon had. Sure enough, about 50 yards away sat a group of 5-6 people. I passed the word to prepare to open fire. At this point 1st Sgt. Tufts asked to look thru the scope. He then told me he thought they might be Americans. I reminded him that we were the only GI's in the area but he insisted I call Battalion Operations. I relented and told battalion what we had and asked if there were any friendly troops in my area. I was advised that there was a recon unit about 5 - 6 Km's from us. Sgt Tufts thought that maybe this group was the recon unit and had gotten lost. Before I could say anything he fired a flare. As soon as it popped the group to our front ran like hell. I opened fire, as did everybody else, and we chased them for a half mile or so. I called battalion and requested artillery fire in front of the fleeing group. I was told that we were in a no-fire zone and could not get it. By then the flare was out and I told everybody to return to our ambush site.

No sooner had we returned then the Battalion Commander, "Happy Warrior" was calling on the radio. Seems he was airborne and had heard of our little firefight and wanted to land to check it out. So here we were, in the middle of the night with a blown ambush, getting ready to have our battalion CO land on us. We established a hasty landing zone (LZ) using a strobe light. After he landed, he wanted to know the complete details and why we had not gotten any kills. I explained to him why we had chosen our location and how there had been some question of them being GI's or not. He wasn't really happy about the results. As soon as he left I ordered everybody to grab their gear and we moved to a new locations. When the next re-supply copter came to us, 1st Sgt. Tufts returned to the base camp.

DONUT DOLLIES- This was the name given to the American Red Cross Volunteers that worked in Vietnam. For the most part, the only ones I ever met came to visit the platoon in the field. I don't remember how it was arranged, but we had a couple come to visit. They were really nice, had brought cold soda, Red Cross care packages with all kinds of good stuff and pen-pal letters. They arrived in a re-supply helicopter and stayed a couple of hours. The guys enjoyed the visit and had lots of fantasies to talk about for weeks. Some, including me, had taken the pen-pal letters from kids and young adults in the states. Mine was from a young high school senior. At this time I can't remember where she was from, but I think it was Colorado. We wrote and she sent a photo.

In the areas around the villages we were often, during daylight only, approached by village kids. They would come out to sell cold sodas and fresh baked bread. There was one group that hung around us when we worked near the village of Phong Dien. One of my Sgt's fell in love with one of the girls. She was part French and about 16 - 18.
 


Photo by William Dean

Our days were long and the nights even longer. We patrolled in heavy jungle, in the mountains and the midlands in waist high saw grass. We worked along the coast and in the rice paddies. We shot at people and they shot at us. We wounded and killed some of them and they wounded and killed some of us. My final night in combat started much like any other. It was August 8, 1970, a day that I will always remember not just for the wounds I received but for the men I lost.
                                                                            #

Copyright 1999 - William Dean

William Dean served as a platoon leader in Vietnam with Co's D + E 3/187th Abn Inf. 101st Airborne Div. He arrived in Vietnam in Nov.'69 and was medically evacuated (medevac) in Aug.'70.

Visit his website at: http://www.geocities.com/grandaddydean/
 

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