Praise for

SOG Codename Dynamite

“I thought I was crazy until I saw what Dick Thompson did when he
became my SOG Team leader in 1969. I learned a lot from Dynamite
during our time together at CCN and grew up a lot—especially after
getting the crap shot out of me a couple times. I got focused on what
was right and what leader responsibilities were in combat. He was a
great role model for me.”
—Eldon Bargewell,
Major General (Ret.), MACV-SOG 68–69, 70–71

“Dick Thompson served as a One Zero, Recon Team leader at

Command and Control North (CCN) during the height of the
Vietnam War. His journal takes the reader on numerous covert
missions across the border into Laos, where he and his RT engaged
North Vietnamese Army forces from the company to division levels,
during the conduct of their missions.
Each mission is described in detail, from the insertion to
extraction and the employment of close air support. What is unique
in the account of each mission is that following each mission is an
After-Action Review (AAR), lessons learned and the follow-on action
items in preparing for the next mission. This is the hallmark of a
good combat leader, as I often saw that ‘lessons learned’ were often
mistakes repeated as they only were captured in the after-action
reports and then filed away and never followed up by unit or leaders.
The lessons learned described in this book still apply to our
Special Forces units. The enemy and conditions have changed, but
not tactics and techniques. Today’s Special Forces leaders and
Operational Detachments need to learn from Dick’s experiences.”
—Ken Bowra,
Major General (Ret), MACV-SOG, 70–71, US Army Special
Forces, One Zero, RT Idaho and RT Sidewinder Command and
Control North (CCN), TF1AE

“Having served with Dick Thompson in recon companies at SOG

bases FOB 1 and CCN, I never realized the epic nature of his
missions. Years from now, scholars will turn first to his book for the
historic and jarring SOG-related action. Readers will learn what
happens when he opens fire on fully automatic on an enemy’s head
three feet away from him.”
—John Stryker Meyer,
MACV-SOG, RT Idaho, 68–70

“I have read Dick Thompson’s book and it takes me back to my SOG

days at FOB-2, CCC. The book is so real it took me back to jungles of
Southern Laos. It especially meant a lot to me because I had many
similar experiences. Dick has done a great job of painting a picture of
how it was. For those who weren’t there it gives you an insight that is
unique. For those who lived it, it will take you back to the sights,
sounds, smells and fear you once felt.”
—Richard Todd,
COL (Ret.), MACV-SOG, HF CO, 68–69

“This is an eye-opening account of Dick Thompson’s experiences as a

MACV-SOG Team Leader assigned to CCN, a top-secret covert
operations organization tasked with observing, interdicting, and
destroying NVA units ‘across the fence’ in Laos, Cambodia and North
Vietnam during the Vietnam War.
Dick’s demanding, intensive training prior to each mission
resulted in a multiplier effect on his small team against a determined
enemy that always greatly outnumbered them.
This book is highly researched, fast paced, exciting and at times
extremely brutal. Written by a highly respected, courageous
American hero, this is a book you won’t be able to put down.”
—Bruce Lombard,
MACV-SOG, RT Indiana and RT Intruder, 68–69

“Having assisted with two Vietnam-related Medal of Honor

upgrades, I have no doubt in my mind that Dick Thompson deserves
America’s highest military honor for the valorous acts he committed
whilst a volunteer in the top secret world of MACV-SOG. As you read
about these—what most people would call insane missions—you’ll
see for yourself that Thompson is a daring, thoughtful, brutal and
fearless warrior, who took on and destroyed well over 10,000
enemies toe-to-toe.
 People not in-the-know might consider it all bullshit. Listen to his
podcasts, his quiet, considered responses to questions, his gentle
humor and humility, and you will know, as his friends do, that Dick
is the real deal.
Future movies will be made about these unsung heroes of the
Vietnam War, the real John Rambos—men like Dick Thompson,
Lynne Black and Eldon Bargewell, who went out time and again to
face an overwhelming, highly trained and equipped enemy
determined to hunt and kill them. This book is a must-read account
of a man in extreme combat, who calculates his next missions with a
clear and focused mind, and steps off the helicopter skid, aiming to
come and kill you. You would not ever wish to be his enemy.”
—Rob Graham,
CEO Savage Game Design, Creator SOG: Prairie Fire

“When I watch a stupid action movie and some guy jumps off a
helicopter skid into 150 feet high trees, I always think, that’s BS!
That’ll never work. Apparently, I need to spend more time with Dick
Thompson to know what works.”
—Jocko Willink,
Retired Navy SEAL Commander

“Dick Thompson artfully describes how he was born on the path to

becoming a warrior, from growing up in rural South Carolina where
he played ‘army’ in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, to
giving up his chemistry scholarship at the University of South
Carolina to pursue his destiny. As a SOG 1-0 he methodically
dissected each mission as he continued to hone his skills and develop
into the ultimate SOG ninja. Always outnumbered and often one
mistake away from death, Thompson shows that he had more lives
than a cat as he cheated death time and again. Each mission will
have you hanging on every word and leave you clamoring for more.
It’s raw, it’s gritty and not for the faint of heart, but if you really
want to know what it was like to work in the black world of special
operations, SOG Codename Dynamite is a must read.
—Barry Pencek,
COL (Ret.), US Marine Cobra pilot (Scarface 42) supporting
MACV-SOG Operations, 70–71, author of Operation Tailwind:
Memoirs of a Secret Battle in a Secret War.
“SOG Codename Dynamite is a blood and guts account of the great
heroism and battlefield camaraderie of MACV-SOG, the Vietnam
War’s unconventional warfare combat element in the Southeast
Asian conflict. It was, by design, the most secret, elite US Military
unit to serve in Vietnam—so secret, its existence was not only
concealed but denied by the US government. Dick Thompson
superbly describes his military training, and the minute by minute
first person account of extraordinary men living and dying on the
edge behind enemy lines. His and his team’s battlefield heroism is
revealed in each and every one of their cross-border missions—in
explosive, heart stopping detail.”
—David Carr,
LTC (Ret.), MACV-SOG, Recon Company Commander, 68–69

“Dick Thompson will take you inside the heart and mind of one of
the most elite MACV-SOG warriors. This book is a journal of his time
as a SOG RT team leader conducting combat operations across the
border in the Top Secret war in Southeast Asia. ‘Not for the faint of
heart’ is a mild quote. A must-read book to understand what it’s like
to constantly look death in the eye.”
—Carl E. Hudson,
75th Rangers, Vietnam, 66–69

“Dick Thompson should have seven Medals of Honor and Ford

should give him a new car every week.”
—Andy Stumpf,
Navy SEAL Team 6

“SOG Codename Dynamite is written like no other book on

MACVSOG, a ‘Must Read.’ Once I got into this book I could not put it
down for hours. It is about the brutal combat between highly trained,
motivated, professional NVA soldiers and SOG’s Special Forces and
indigenous Recon teams operating Across the Fence in the NVA’s
backyard, Laos, Cambodia, North Vietnam and the DMZ. He
describes the horror of being chased by hundreds of angry NVA,
burnt, mutilated, screaming bodies in brutal, sometimes hand-to-
hand combat told as Dick Thompson, SOG Codename Dynamite,
saw it. I inserted and extracted the SOG legends of CCS, and
Dynamite is a legend among legends.”
 —Don “Ghost Rider” Haase,
195th Assault Helicopter Company
MACV-SOG Gunship Support, 68–69

“There’s a saying that goes something like, ‘The world needs good
men who are skilled at violence.’ Dick Thompson is one of those
men. His account of his time in Vietnam serving in MACV-SOG is
deeply personal and pays tribute to his fellow warriors who never
made it home. They are the men who put honor, country, and self-
sacrifice above all else. Men who were asked to do the hard stuff. It’s
a humbling read. It’s also a fascinating look at what shapes a warrior
mindset. How to prepare physically and mentally, to use stress,
adapt, overcome, and succeed. Lessons anyone can apply to their
own lives and individual circumstances.”
—Holly H. McClellan,
Spouse of Army SF combat veteran and daughter of
Air Force Vietnam B-52 pilot.

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OceanofPDF.com
SOG Codename Dynamite A MACV-SOG 1-0’s Personal Journal,
Book 1 by Henry L. Thompson, Ph.D.
Copyright © 2023 by Henry L. Thompson, Ph.D.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,
stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any
means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or
otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
Although every precaution has been taken to verify the accuracy of
the information contained herein, the author and publisher assume
no responsibility for any errors or omissions. No liability is assumed
for damages that may result from the use of information contained
within.
Cover design by Rich Niles
Interior formatting and design by Jacqueline Cook
ISBN: 9798399424354
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
BISAC Subject Headings:
BIO008000 BIOGRAPHY & AUTOBIOGRAPHY / Military
BIO026000 BIOGRAPHY & AUTOBIOGRAPHY / Personal Memoirs
HIS027180 HISTORY / Military / Special Forces
HIS027070 HISTORY / Wars & Conflicts / Vietnam
Published by Wormhole Publishing
PO Box 868
Watkinsville, GA 30677

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 Dedication

This book is dedicated to my friend,

1LT Robert (Bob) E. Sheridan.
Rest in Peace, my friend.

MACV-SOG, CCC, 1968–69

Killed in Action March 26, 1969
Posthumously awarded the Silver Star and Purple Heart

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 Contents

Preface
PART 1
Chapter 1: Born on the Path
Chapter 2: Becoming a Warrior
Chapter 3: Do Not Volunteer for SOG!
PART 2
Chapter 4: Phu Bai: FOB-1
RT Alabama
Mission Preparation
RT Alabama: Wiretap SOG #1
Chapter 5: Into the Darkness
RT Alabama: S & D SOG #2
RT Alabama: Eldest Son SOG #3
RT Alabama: Road Interdiction SOG #4
PART 3
Chapter 6: Command and Control North (FOB-4)
RT Michigan: Walk-In SOG #5
RT Michigan: PW Snatch SOG #6
RT Michigan: Marble Mountain
RT Michigan: S & D SOG #7
RT Michigan: Pipeline SOG #8
RT Michigan: BDA SOG #9
Acknowledgments
Glossary
About the Author
Veteran Support

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 Preface

You have never lived until you’ve almost died. For those who have
fought for it, life has a special flavor the protected will never know.
—Guy de Maupassant

You are volunteering to go anywhere and do anything, no questions

asked. You agree not to disclose to anyone in any way where you
went and what you did for at least 20 years. Sign these documents.
Welcome to SOG!
—LTC Jones

The two books in this series are about how I got to the Military
Advisory Command Vietnam-Studies and Observation Group
(MACV-SOG) and experienced life and war during my time there.
Don’t be misled by the name. We were not an academic group
studying the war in Vietnam. We were not “advising” anyone. MACV-
SOG was a top-secret group of the most elite Special Operations
warriors in the world. Let me be very clear: This book is about the
top-secret war in Southeast Asia that took place from 1964–72. This
book is not for the faint of heart or people who do not want to know
the poignant reality of what really happens on the top-secret black
ops battlefield. Every time I led my team on a mission, it was a kill or
be killed event. Every time hundreds, sometimes thousands, of
people would die. It was not about rules of engagement, was this
person an enemy, does this person have a weapon, is this person
about to kill me or the many other questions and rules today’s special
operators may have to deal with. SOG rules were very different and
simple. EVERYONE was the enemy. The enemy had to be terminated
—or you would be! And, if the enemy caught you, the United States
government would deny any involvement with you or what you were
doing. You had no protection under the Geneva Convention. You
were a spy. You were on your own. Make no mistake. SOG was not
fighting the Viet Cong (VC) or some rag-tag, made-up group of old
men, women and kids who called themselves soldiers. We fought the
hard-core, North Vietnamese Army, by most estimates the third or
fourth best Army in the world at the time.
SOG missions, by definition, were missions conducted outside of
South Vietnam in other Southeast Asian countries to include North
Vietnam. We conducted military operations inside Vietnam for
practice, training, and mission preparation. By today’s terminology
all of these combat operations would be called combat deployments.
And there were a lot of them!
Our cross-border (sometimes called “over the fence”) operations
proved an effective economy-of-force, compelling the North
Vietnamese Army to divert over 50,000 of their best soldiers to rear
area security duties, far from the battlefields of South Vietnam (cited
from the Presidential Unit Citation for Extraordinary Heroism) to try
and counter SOG team missions.
It has been documented that SOG teams had the highest kill ratio
of any unit during the Vietnam era. SOG teams also had the highest
casualty rate, over 200%, of any unit of the Vietnam era. This means
each SOG team member was either killed or wounded multiple
times. For example, SSG Robert Howard (later Colonel Howard) was
wounded on at least 11 occasions, was awarded eight Purple Hearts,
the Distinguished Service Cross (the second highest medal for valor
in combat) AND the Medal of Honor (the highest award for valor
above and beyond the call of duty). He also received numerous other
medals for heroism. Bob is one example of what a SOG 1-0
(pronounced “one-zero,” a team leader) was like. Twenty-two men
received the Distinguished Service Cross and 13 received the Medal
of Honor on SOG operations. It is safe to say that SOG team
members were the most BA men walking the face of the planet from
1964–1972.
I waited too long to write this book. Too many surviving SOG
operators have passed, most parents have passed. I am not going to
include a lot of historical detail around units, battles, SOG, etc.,
unless it pertains to the missions I discuss. There are many great
SOG books that contain that kind of detail. My focus is on describing
what I, as a SOG 1-0, experienced and felt during my time there—and
afterward. I feel a need to get this message out while I can of what it
was like to be a young soldier (21–22 years old) leading the world’s
most elite military combat teams on what have been described by
many as “insane” missions. These are missions you would never be
allowed to conduct today.
As I said, this is not an academic SOG history book. Plenty of
those are out there and more coming. This is a journal of some of my
experiences that I think represent much of what all SOG 1-0s
experienced. My focus is on the missions I went on because those are
the ones I know best. It is about what I experienced as a SOG
warrior. It is not a pretty story. It is raw, about war and war is about
death, killing, horror, fear and heroic actions by the people with
whom I crossed paths. There are things in this book that many
people do not want to know or believe happened. If you are one of
those people, this book will upset you if you attempt to read it.
The actions described here are about the elite of the elite
desperately fighting for their lives and the lives of their teammates as
vastly, numerically superior enemy forces closed in on them, and in
many cases, killed them and left their mutilated bodies behind for
the animals and jungle to consume. Any North Vietnamese soldier
who killed a SOG team member received a “Killed an American”
award and was guaranteed to be set for life by their government. The
North Vietnamese Army had dossiers on SOG operators and posted
bounties on SOG team members—dead or alive—that extended
beyond the borders of South Vietnam! The deaths of some SOG team
members, for example Jerry “Mad Dog” Shriver, were announced
and celebrated on North Vietnam radio stations.
There has never been a war where such small teams of young
warriors were set against such overwhelming numbers of enemy
forces on every mission. This fact has been documented in many
other places by historians. There are names of some heroes that I
can’t remember at this point and have not been able to find those
who do. In these cases, I gave these warriors names so their stories
would not be forgotten. In other cases, I changed names as a
courtesy to warriors who do not want to relive their stories.
SOG missions were not fought alone—you were always part of a
team. Internal battles, however, were and still are being fought alone
by what has been burned into each SOG Operator’s brain. Once seen,
you cannot unsee. Once you do, you cannot undo. There are
experiences on the battlefield that you can never un-see, un-hear,
un-smell, un-feel or un-taste. Once you pull the trigger or detonate
an explosive, the lives you have just terminated cannot be un-killed.
The enemy soldier’s spouse, kids, grandkids, great grandkids, future
relatives and potential roles they all play in the history of the world
are immediately and permanently erased. You can never forget the
look on the person’s face when you pull the trigger or penetrate him
with your knife. These are part of you for the rest of your life. You
can never remove the experience from your brain. It is part of you
until you die.
You cannot do what SOG Operators did without experiencing
Post Traumatic Stress (PTS), Post Traumatic Stress Symptoms
(PTSS), or Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and Traumatic
Brain Injury (TBI). It just wasn’t talked about much in those days. All
SOG operators had PTSD and TBIs to some level and those who are
still alive continue to experience it today. In some cases, it is lying
just beneath the surface ready to emerge again with the right
“trigger.” The six-mission/six-month commitment was designed to
let warriors out before they had severe problems. But it only took one
mission to change your life forever—if you lived.
Today the Veterans Administration (VA) estimates that an
average of 22 veterans die by suicide per day—a figure that’s skewed
because more than half of US veterans are not registered with the
VA. More recent and robust national research puts the estimate at 50
or more per day. Over the years, some of these have been SOG
operators.
I learned from everyone I worked with, came in contact with or
heard on the radio—including the enemy. This is not a political book
or story. I admit that I have some strong opinions about the war in
Southeast Asia and how the US conducted it, but you will not find
them in this book. This book is to honor the memory of all
those who served in or supported MACV-SOG. I consider all
of them to be American heroes of the first order and men I am
honored, humbled and proud to have served with. Many men of SOG
were recognized for their heroism, such as Bob Howard mentioned
above, who at the end of the day would say, “Just another day in
SOG.” There are many heroes who were not recognized with medals
or publicity for various reasons. They know what they did. Their
teammates know what they did. And most importantly, the enemy
knows what they did.
My friend, retired Navy SEAL Jocko Willink, talks a lot about
“getting and staying on the path.” I believe some people, like Jocko,
Eldon Bargewell, Dick Meadows, Ken Bowra and many others
mentioned in this book were “born” on the path.
I consider myself extremely fortunate to have worked with,
fought battles with, and been friends with legends like Dick
Meadows, Bob Howard, Eldon Bargewell, John Stryker Meyer and
many others who are mentioned in this book. I have carried the
memory of 34 personal SOG friends and teammates who made the
ultimate sacrifice with me for over 55 years and have swum, biked
and run tens of thousands of miles in their memory over the years. I
say their names as I begin my exercise every day. It has been said
that a warrior dies twice. Once when their heart stops beating and
finally when people stop saying their name. These heroes will not die
the second death as long as I am alive because their names will be
spoken every day until I meet with them again on the other side.
You may find that some of my accounts of the circumstances
around the death of someone you know do not match up with what
you have read on the Internet or been told by someone who heard
about these incidents. I find many inaccuracies with stories and
reports on the Internet, in articles and books. In many cases I was
there. I know what really happened. I heard the heroes’ last words,
last breaths and saw their life leave their eyes. I carried their bodies
out of the jungle.
I am using my experiences as a platform to describe what SOG
operators went through and lived through. It is about the lives and
actions of SOG operators. If you choose to continue to read,
fasten your seat belt and brace for impact!

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OceanofPDF.com
 PART 1

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 Chapter 1
Born on the Path

On the plains of hesitation lie the blackened bones of countless

millions who at the dawn of victory lay down to rest, and in resting
died.
—Adlai Stevenson

I was in a prone position in knee-high ribbon grass. I had a death

grip on the shoulder of a North Vietnamese Army (NVA) soldier. Our
eyes made contact as I grabbed the barrel of his AK-47 and pushed it
away from me. At the same time, I realized I was in trouble. I had no
strength. The pain in my back was debilitating! I was having
difficulty breathing. We were grappling and he was terrified and
determined to kill me. He yelled for his teammates who were
crawling in the grass about 40 meters away to help him, then pulled
the trigger on his AK-47 trying to shoot me. The bullets just missed
me. I was getting weaker and having more difficulty breathing, but I
was determined to take him prisoner!
He rolled on top of me and started fighting harder. I managed to
get my CAR-15 pointed toward him and shot him in the shoulder. I
thought that would take some of the fight out of him, but I was so
weak he was still overpowering me. He kept yelling for his
teammates and firing off rounds trying to hit me as we continued to
wrestle. I was about to pass out from the excruciating pain. He was
holding the barrel of my CAR-15 and I could not get it pointed at
him. He could see that he was beginning to overpower me. I could
tell I was about to become the victim. But I would not give up!
Suddenly, he turned loose of the barrel of my CAR-15 and
punched me really hard in the nose. My nose was bleeding, and my
vision was blurry. Our eyes locked again. This time I could see the
look in his eyes that people get when they know they are going to die.
He had realized that turning loose of my CAR-15 allowed me to point
it toward his face and that this would be what killed him. He knew he
had less than a second to live.
 I had moved the muzzle of my CAR-15 so it was pointed toward
his head about six inches away from his cheek. At this point there
was nothing he could do. He knew he was dead. He closed his eyes.
He had not been cooperating with me. I only had one option left: I
had to terminate him. I squeezed off a five-round burst on full-auto
directly into his face. His head literally exploded, covering my face
and head with blood, brain matter, bone fragments, and yellow fatty
tissue followed immediately by a stream of hot blood from his carotid
artery. As his mostly headless body went limp, the sounds of the
firefight and reality came back loudly. I could hear his teammates
yelling to him that they were almost to us. I sprayed the grass with
20–25 rounds of automatic fire, threw a frag grenade in their
direction and began rolling away toward the bomb crater as some of
his teammates returned fire. As I rolled, I remembered being a little
kid playing army in the woods alone, a lifetime ago.
I was born January 3, 1947, and grew up in South Carolina in a
small town called Walhalla, not far from Clemson University. I came
from a military family. My father, SGT Henry L. Thompson, Jr., was
a veteran of both WWII and the Korean War. He and my mother’s
five brothers, PFC Clyde J. Hudson, PFC Ray Hudson, S1C Harold
Hudson, SGT Alton Hudson, and PVT Doyle Hudson were all
deployed in WWII at the same time. My mother, Christine Hudson
Thompson, was a member of a six-time Blue Star Family. On
November 19, 1944, one of the Blue Stars turned Gold. My uncle,
PFC Clyde J. Hudson, was killed in action (KIA). She became a
member of the club no one wants to belong to—a Gold Star family.
I heard talk about the war and the military from the time I was
old enough to remember. My family was together a lot, so there was a
lot of discussion about the war and things that had taken place on the
battlefield and the home front. As I got older, I was able to ask my
father and uncles more specific questions. I wanted to know how the
Army was structured, what a platoon did, etc.
My father was in the infantry most of the time but spent some
time in the Rangers. Sometimes I would hear him talking to my
uncles about the kinds of operations he participated in. He was in the
Army about four years and got out when WWII ended.
When the Korean War started, my father was called back to active
duty and deployed to Korea. That’s when I really started to hear
about war because I was old enough to better understand what
people were talking about. My father wrote letters home and told my
mother about how deep the mud was, how cold it was and what the
war was like. War and the military fascinated me, and I was hearing
about the Korean War firsthand.
The house we moved into when my father returned from Korea
was on a small farm with lots of space for me to roam, learn and
grow. We had running water in the house but not an indoor toilet.
You had to brave the elements to go to the outdoor toilet. I didn’t
realize it at the time but going to the toilet was “on the path.” A dirt
road that went past our house separated the house from the barn—
and toilet. You had to cross the road and approach the barn to get to
the toilet.
When I was six years old my father bought a large turkey. Large
in the sense that when the turkey and I stood face-to-face we were
the same height and eye-to-eye. Luckily for me, the turkey was very
aggressive and territorial. He claimed all the area on the barn (and
toilet) side of the road as his and guarded it fiercely. When he would
see me crossing the road, he would run after me and flog me, often
knocking me to the ground and preventing my use of the toilet.
When I complained to my father he said, “You have to stand up to
him. Show him you are not afraid of him. Make him back down.” I
said, “I do stand up to him, but he’s bigger, stronger and faster than
me. When he knocks me down, he pecks me.” He said, “True, but you
are smarter than he is. Figure out a way to show him you are not
afraid of him and that it’s your side of the road, not his.”
 And so, my special operations field training began. I learned how
to infiltrate the other side of the road, to use cover, concealment and
distraction to get to the toilet before he could respond. Then how to
arm myself with rocks and a sling shot so I could hold him off during
my ex-filtration. I also watched what my parents did when he went
after them. They would just jump at him, yell at him and chase him
away. I decided to try this. Armed with my sling shot, I yelled at him
to get away, fired a rock into his chest and ran toward him yelling.
He ran from me until I turned my back to him. It took a few
iterations of this tactic, but I eventually convinced him I would only
run toward him, not away. My final victory came when he was
invited to Thanksgiving dinner.
When I was about seven, I decided to form an army. More
specifically, Thompson’s Rangers. My Cousin Eddie, who became
Carl when he joined the Army later in life, helped me organize it and
recruit other members. (Carl spent three years in Vietnam and was a
member of G Company, 75th Rangers.) Cousins Joe, Larry (a.k.a.
LD) and Danny were the first recruits. Later, Cousin Patsy (a.k.a.
Pat) became our only WAC (Women’s Army Corps) member. We
grew from there, bringing in other cousins and friends from outside
the family. We found it necessary to have a logbook to keep records
of all our members and their performance. One member, not a
cousin, was court-martialed and booted out. He was our first and
only dishonorable discharge. And just for the record, according to
the logbook I was General Thompson in charge of the 69th Ranger
Regiment, Company A, 2nd Platoon. I still have the logbook.
I had been thinking about being in the Army when I grew up from
the age of four. I was “on the path.” According to my logbook, I
locked on to the decision to become an actual Ranger the day my
cousins and I saw the movie Darby’s Rangers in 1958. We were
hooked. My actions and interests became more and more focused on
Special Ops from that time forward. I became more interested in not
just shooting guns, but marksmanship. Not just firecrackers but
building explosives. Not just playing army in the woods but
becoming invisible and learning to live off the land.
 I grew up in the woods. When I was five years old, I would go to
the woods whenever I had the chance. Most of the time I would go
alone, unless Carl was available to play, track animals, listen to the
sounds of the woods and work on how to be invisible when you move
or stop moving. I wanted to have the skill to track an ant through a
cornfield, but I don’t think I ever reached that level.
By the time I was six, I had an army pup tent and I would take it
up on a wooded hill about 200 meters from our house, put it up and
sleep up there by myself some nights. On weekends, Carl and I would
take eggs and bacon up there, build a fire and cook them for
breakfast. When I got a little older and had a BB gun, I would take
out birds and roast them over the fire. Carl and I did a lot of things
we thought Rangers did. I was also discovering that I seemed to have
Spidey senses. I could hear a silent dog whistle, see a gnat climbing a
pine tree at 500 meters and tell you its sex, see in the dark and smell
snakes.
We discovered that our Uncle Alton had brought a German Dress
Knife back from the war. He said he took it off a dead German
officer. We were not allowed to touch it but knew where he kept it.
Sometimes when he would leave the house, we would get it out and
play with it.
The perfect storm that disrupted my future plans came together
when I was 13. Math and science had always been my favorite
subjects in school. Santa gave me a chemistry set for Christmas and
things were never the same after that. I developed a passion for
chemistry, which put me on a dual track: the Army and chemistry. I
watched monster movies on Shock Theatre at midnight on Saturday
and tried to replicate some of the experiments I saw on these shows.
In addition to the Ranger stuff, I set up my own laboratory in the
barn. I spent all my allowance and money from part-time jobs on
chemicals and lab equipment. Back in those days, you could go to a
drug store (pharmacy) and buy all kinds of chemicals. It’s almost
unbelievable to people today that I could buy then what are
considered dangerous chemicals today; particularly if my mother
signed for me and said, “Yes, it’s okay for him to have concentrated
nitric acid.” I stocked my lab with all types of chemicals and
equipment for my experiments. At one point I thought I was getting
close to a successful brain exchange between birds and frogs. I could
get the brains in the skulls, but just couldn’t get my patients to start
breathing again afterwards. I also worked on heart exchanges and
had the same problem getting the hearts to start beating again. It
didn’t seem to matter how much electricity, even 120 volts, I ran
through them.

I also became interested in building solid fuel rockets, starting

small and graduating to rather large ones. One of the larger ones
exploded on the launch pad and took out some of my neighbor’s
windows so I had to go back to the smaller ones just to be safe.
Fortunately, my mother never knew how many pounds of rocket fuel
components I had in my bedroom.
I had a great relationship with my high school chemistry/physics
teacher, Mr. Sid Ballenger, who took me beyond high school level in
these subjects. He loved my science fair projects even though I
tended to take a different approach than what he recommended.
Occasionally he let me borrow pieces of lab equipment that I could
not afford for my own lab in the barn.
Mr. Ballenger had a state-of-the-art driver’s ed machine that
allowed a student to practice driving skills. One test was how fast you
could take your foot off the gas pedal and apply the brakes when the
emergency stop light came on. I had the fastest reaction time in our
high school—with one exception: Mr. Ballenger also had a daughter,
Joyce. She was my age, an athlete, the star of the Majorettes in the
High School Marching Band and lettered in sports. But I was more
impressed with her reaction time. She was the queen of reaction
time. I just could not beat her.
During my senior year I borrowed the school’s very expensive
Bausch and Lomb™ high-powered microscope. About a week later,
after I had shown him a picture I had taken with the microscope, he
dropped by my lab after school to see what I was doing. He almost
had a cardiac arrest when he realized that I had disassembled the
precision microscope and built a more powerful system with the
components integrated with a photographic system I had created.
My system was more than twice as powerful as the school’s
microscope and it took pictures! When he was able to speak, he said I
needed to have the microscope back at school the next day as re-
assembled as I could get it. I put it back together as good as new, but
it ended his willingness to loan me expensive equipment from the
school.
In high school I played football and ran track. I was strong and
fast, and could hit really hard, but I wasn’t college material because
of my size. I actually played defensive end my senior year on a
defense line that weighed over 200 pounds, and I was 140. One did
not, however, want to try to run around my end. Newton’s second
law says force equals mass times acceleration. My mass was
relatively small, but I was very fast, and I would still be accelerating
when my force impacted a running back or quarterback. They
learned it was painful to come around my end. A quarterback would
drop back and see me in his face because I could get there quickly.
My cousin and good friend, Derrill Thompson, played the other
defensive end. Our plan was to meet at the quarterback and make a
sandwich out of him.
In June 1962, my buddy, Hal Ballenger, asked me if I wanted to
go SCUBA diving. I watched Sea Hunt starring Lloyd Bridges every
week and had read Jacques Cousteau’s book. I had also done a lot of
snorkeling and free-diving and really wanted to SCUBA dive. Hal’s
father, Howard Ballenger—an attorney and former bomber pilot and
POW in WWII—owned a couple of tanks and regulators. Our football
coach, Charlie Johnson, dabbled in SCUBA and had a small SCUBA
air compressor that he let us use to fill Mr. Ballenger’s tanks.
When we got to the lake, Hal hooked the regulators to the tanks,
used the straps on the tank to tie it to me, and told me to put the
mouthpiece in my mouth and just breathe in and out. He asked me if
I had any questions. I said, “No,” and down we went. Somehow, I
managed not to drown or have an air embolism.
A couple of weeks later my dad’s brother, Uncle Robert, arrived
on a 30-day leave from the Navy. He had some dive gear to include
fins at least three feet long and stiff as a board. He said he was in the
Navy’s Underwater Demolition Team and was going to teach me how
to SCUBA dive. I was all in. This began my serious SCUBA journey.
We were in the water almost every day. I continued to dive
throughout high school and into college and became a certified dive
master and instructor on 3 November 1966 along with another high
school buddy, Mike Hamor, who later joined the Navy Seabees and
visited me in Vietnam at Da Nang in 1969. I didn’t realize it at the
time, but I was continuing to build my mental and physical skill sets
for the path ahead. I was also beginning a life of SCUBA around the
world, to include the South China Sea.
I graduated high school in 1965 and started college at the
University of South Carolina on a chemistry scholarship. I continued
to SCUBA dive and began to study martial arts. At the University it
appeared to me that our country was dividing into two groups: the
long-haired, drug-using, anti-war, hippy people and the patriots who
wanted to crush the North Vietnamese. I knew I was in the second
group and began thinking seriously about volunteering for the war.
After a year and a half, I could see that Vietnam was going hot
and heavy. It was on the news every night. This was also about the
time the US discovered that the North Vietnamese had a “real” army
that was much better than anyone thought at the time. The North
Vietnamese Army probably ranked in the top four armies in the
world. Plus, we were fighting in their backyard. They knew how to
train and how to operate there. And they didn’t stop; they would just
keep coming at you! Their biggest disadvantage was they didn’t have
the technology that we did. They also didn’t have air superiority.
There were a lot of things they just didn’t have that held them back
or it would have been much worse for the US than it was.
I decided to take a break from school and do my patriotic duty to
help crush our enemy in Vietnam. I felt an obligation to do my part
and thought it was something everyone should be doing. My father
supported me going into the military, but my mother was not happy!
She wanted me to finish school. I told her, “I’m just taking a three-
year break. When I come back, I’ll finish my doctorate, and
everything will be fine.” She said, “No, you won’t.” I assured her I
would come back and finish school.
I was actually on my way to the Marine recruiter (I had obviously
gotten off the path), because the Marines were on TV every night, but
stopped by the Army recruiter who was next door just to see what
they had to offer. They seemed to be excited and willing to give me
anything I wanted. “You want chemistry? The Army has a Chemical
Corps.” I went with the Army because of the promise of a chemical
corps assignment, and I knew that being in the Army would also give
me the chance to become a Ranger if I chose to. I was on the path!
 I was always impressed with this picture he sent home.
Lessons Learned
When you are on the right path you can feel it. When you step
off the path it doesn’t feel right. Get back on the path and stay on
the path.
In reality, there are multiple paths for everyone, but one is the
best for you.
Things you experience and see on the path fit together. Keep
moving.
Before I joined the Army, Cousin Carl—who was already in the
Army—said, “When they give you a job to do, even if you don’t
like it and no one is around, always give it your best effort. It will
pay off in the long run.” I never forgot this—and he was right.
The Army did not like nick names. I was called Henry (and a few
other less flattering names) when I joined. Only my close friends
knew me as Dick.
Events come together to form patterns. Patterns lead to systemic
structures. Systemic structures have rules. Learn the rules and
you can control your path.
Cousin Carl would spend three back-to-back tours in Vietnam.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 2
Becoming a Warrior

I am the Infantry!
I am the Infantry—Queen of Battle!
For two centuries I have kept our nation safe,
Purchasing freedom with my blood.
To tyrants, I am the day of reckoning;
To the suppressed, the hope for the future.
Where fighting is thick, there am I. . .
I am the Infantry! FOLLOW ME!
—Poem Adapted by LTC Stephen H. White

It was January 1967. I was on a long bus ride from Seneca, South
Carolina to Columbia, South Carolina, the home of Fort Jackson.
Once our bus load of recruits got through the main gate and onto
Fort Jackson proper, it was several miles to the Recruit Induction
Center. A railroad track ran along one side of the road, and a single
line of coal about 20 feet high ran along the other side of the road for
several miles. The bus driver announced with a Southern drawl, “You
boys, see all that coal piled on the side of the road? When I drove my
bus load of boys in yesterday, all that coal was on the other side of
the road. And by this time tomorrow, you boys will have it moved
back over there! (Followed by a big laugh.) You boys are in for the
shock of your lives! It won’t do you no good to cry for your mama.
She can’t help you in here! Most of you are probably going to die
before you ever get to Vi-et-naam!” I didn’t believe it at the time, but
some recruits did die before they finished training. One was my bunk
mate during Advanced Infantry Training.
Induction Center – Fort Jackson, South Carolina
When I first entered the Army, my thoughts were that I’m here for
three years, then I’ll get out, go back to school, get a Ph.D. and be a
research chemist. This pathway began to change at 0330 hours the
first morning at the Induction Center. We were asleep in bunk beds
in the barracks. The lights came on and someone started shouting
and screaming to get out of the @$#&* bed and to fall in formation
in front of the bunks. Apparently, we weren’t moving fast enough. I
heard bunk beds crashing to the floor with people still in them! I
quickly jumped to the floor, stood at attention in front of my bed and
started looking around for the giant ready to crush anyone who
talked back!
I saw a guy my size wearing a big Smokey the Bear hat and a
black and gold Ranger tab on his left shoulder! And I thought, “Wow!
This drill sergeant is an animal, and no one is going to talk back to
him! When he says jump, everyone asks ‘How high, Drill Sergeant?’”
That was when I thought, “Okay, I’ve got to start rethinking my path.
This guy is a Ranger. He is very impressive.” That brought back all
my pre- adolescent desire to be a Ranger. When he marched us to the
mess hall with the Jody call, “I want to be an Airborne Ranger! I
want to live a life of danger,” I was hooked. Why would I want to be
anything else for the next three years?
It was a week of taking one test after another, marching, KP
(kitchen police—peeling potatoes, washing dishes and cleaning the
grease trap) and police call, which sounded cool, but turned out to be
picking up trash, especially cigarette butts. On the first day when the
drill sergeant asked me why I was not picking up the cigarette butts, I
replied, “I don’t smoke. I’m not picking them up!” You could have
heard a pin drop. After I had pushed Fort Jackson a little closer to
China by doing over 100 push-ups, I agreed to make an exception
this time and pick them up. I was not happy about it but I was doing
enough push-ups for other things, so it seemed logical to play the
game. Plus, I knew we were leaving Fort Jackson in a couple of days.
Hundreds of us were loaded on literal cattle cars (tractor trailer
trucks) and transported to Fort Gordon, Georgia, for Basic Training.
It was a long, cold, miserable ride. Cattle cars have plenty of holes in
them to allow the cows to get fresh air, but it was January and below
freezing.
When my group of about 200 arrived that evening, a knuckle-
dragging drill sergeant boarded our cattle car and in a loud voice
said, “From this point forward, I am your mama and your daddy. You
don’t do anything, even breathe, unless I tell you to. No one knows
where you are, no one cares where you are, or if you are tired,
hungry, cold or want to go home! Do not dare say any of that @$#*
##@** to me. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?” We all responded with
a very loud, “YES, DRILL SERGEANT!” to which he replied, “When I
say go, get off my bus with all your equipment and line up on the
cables in the sawdust pit!” He got out of the way, shouted “Go!” and
we almost killed each other trying to get off the bus.
We discovered that this was not our lucky day. Once we were
lined up, the Drill Sergeant said, “When I call your name, you say,
‘Here, Drill Sergeant,’ and bring your mullet body and equipment
and line up behind me. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, TRAINEES?”
We responded, “Yes, Drill Sergeant!” That is, everyone except one
guy in the front row who responded with “Yes, Sir!” “Drop, trainee,
you little piece of %$#. I am a Staff Sergeant in the United States
Army! I work for a living. Don’t ever call me Sir. You keep doing
push-ups until I get tired.”
“Listen up! Adams!” No response. When I call your name, you
sound off with ‘Here’ and line up behind me with your equipment.
Am I clear?” Everyone sounded off with “Yes, Drill Sergeant.” He
looked down at the guy doing push-ups and said, “Did you call me Sir
again?” Before the guy could answer, the drill sergeant said, “Alright,
dirtbag! Crawl on your belly like a reptile to the far end of the line
and back as fast as you can. Move out!
“Listen up, scumbags! We’re going to try this again! Adams!” No
response. He put us all in the push-up position called “front leaning
rest” and told us to start doing push-ups. He went to the next name
on the list, “Addis!” No response. This went on for a few minutes
until another drill sergeant arrived and said something to him. He
yelled, “All of you dirtbags, pick up your gear and follow Drill
Sergeant Ruiz at a double time. Go! Get out of my area!” Drill
Sergeant Ruiz was a good guy. Unfortunately, he was killed in
Vietnam the following year, 1968.
Turned out we had been dropped off in the wrong battalion area.
Our Company was five blocks down the street. We got to jog in
double time all the way there carrying our duffel bags and
equipment. It was not a pretty sight. People were scattered out all
along the way. All of our drill sergeants were there impatiently
waiting on us like a pack of hungry pit bulls. At least we knew what to
do and not to do when we got in that formation—not that it made any
difference! Welcome to the Army. We would soon learn about “hurry
up and wait!”
Basic Training – Fort Gordon, Georgia
The Vietnam buildup was so massive there were not enough
buildings available to put us in, so the lucky platoons, like mine, lived
in general purpose large tents—18’ X 52’, 12’ high in the center with
5’8” sidewalls—with a small oil heater in each end. They would
always clog up during the night and begin putting out more soot than
heat. When you got up in the cold tent, below freezing most
mornings (this was before climate change), your nostrils would be
clogged with soot, and it would be all over your gear. The bathroom
was a PortaJohn located outside the tent in Siberia.
It snowed several times while we were there, and the tents tried
to fall in on us because of the weight of the snow. Fun times!
Training and actually the food were great. I didn’t mind potatoes at
all three meals and SOS—sh*t on a shingle—for breakfast.
 After watching our platoon perform for a few days, SSG Beasley
selected a trainee to be the trainee platoon sergeant and gave him an
arm band with sergeant stripes to wear that also put him in charge of
the platoon. I was selected as the assistant platoon sergeant. One
night I was on trainee Charge of Quarters (CQ) duty and had to work
in the orderly room with the drill sergeant who had CQ duty that
night. I saw an Army Field Manual, FM 22-5, Drill and Ceremonies
laying on the desk. I picked it up, started looking at it, and realized it
described everything about right face, left face, when to call the
commands—it was all written out right there. If I had had this book
for the last couple of weeks. . . . So, I read the book that night. The
next day, I could see the mistakes that the drill sergeants were
making. I made the mistake once of pointing out a mistake and got to
work my triceps and pecs while I pushed Fort Gordon a little bit
closer to China. Within a few days, SSG Beasley made me the platoon
guide. Mentally, physically, and now drill and ceremonies wise, I was
separating myself from the pack. I was highly motivated and eating
this stuff up!
I almost lost my platoon guide stripes during Army hand-to-hand
combat training when SSG Beasley was teaching us how to do the
Army’s version of a front kick. Suddenly, I heard myself say, “That
kick won’t work. It’s too slow and your head is too exposed.” You
could have heard a pin drop! Total silence.
Beasley said, “Come over here, Thompson. If you think you are
fast enough to stop my kick, go for it or you will be lying on the
ground crying like a little girl!” Before he finished saying girl, he
launched his kick at my groin. I executed a blocking kick with the
hard edge of my combat boot that hit his front shin bone about
halfway up and caused him to spin to the ground. Based on the blood
I could see beginning to seep through his fatigue pants leg, it cut a
nice gash on his shin. He had Drill Sergeant Ruiz take over the
training while he counseled me off to the side of the formation.
Beasley was not happy the rest of the day. He had a limp for about
three days.
When we started going to the firing range I was fired up, no pun
intended. It was great! A few trainees refused to shoot at the
silhouette targets, which were designed to prepare us to fire at a
human form in combat. I soon qualified expert with the M-14 rifle
and won the company marksmanship trophy. At the time, there were
approximately 15 different weapons systems soldiers could quality as
expert with if they met certain standards. Hand grenades were one of
those systems and I got my expert badge with them. The last week of
training I maxed the marksmanship course and came in second in
physical fitness.
At the time, a lieutenant had a life expectancy of about a day and
a half in Vietnam. Lieutenants were getting killed so fast the Army
couldn’t produce them fast enough. Drill Sergeant Beasley insisted
that I apply for Officer Candidate School (OCS). He made sure that
my application had been approved before I left Basic Training.
Beasley also made sure I was promoted to the rank of Private E-2 at
the end of Basic Training. Given the death rate of lieutenants, I’m not
sure if that meant he liked me or not! I thought I was hot. My parents
and younger brother, Butch, came to see me graduate as Outstanding
Trainee of our Training Company. After graduation I got ready for
my first commercial airline flight to travel to Fort Lewis,
Washington, for Advanced Infantry Training.
Leadership Preparation Course – Fort Lewis, Washington
When I arrived at Fort Lewis, I discovered that I had been selected to
attend a two-week leadership preparation course (LPC) to prepare
me to be a trainee platoon leader during Advanced Infantry Training
(AIT). The LPC was great. Everyone in the course had been chosen
because they had demonstrated above average leadership abilities
during Basic Training. They were all sharp and great to work with. I
met two guys who would become good friends of mine, Bob Sheridan
and Pete McMurray.
The cadre almost treated us like soldiers rather than trainees and
I learned a lot. The time flew by and then it was time to join our AIT
company and assume a leadership position. In addition to learning a
lot about leadership I learned that it rains almost every day at Ft.
Lewis in Seattle, Washington!
Advanced Infantry Training – Fort Lewis, Washington
The leadership team arrived a couple of days before the trainees. We
got to know our drill sergeants, the company area and what our roles
would be during AIT. We were ready to go when our “trainees”
arrived. AIT seemed to be more like I expected the Army to be. We
trained hard, worked with a variety of weapons, learned basic
patrolling and combat maneuvers.
After becoming relatively proficient in day land navigation
working in buddy teams, it was time to learn how to do it in the dark.
The second night was long and wet. We got back to the barracks in
the wee hours and got a little sleep before more day land nav
training. That night we reported back to our night land nav
instructors. The first thing my instructor said to me was, “Where’s
your compass buddy, Thompson?” My quick reply was, “He died,
Sergeant.” That perceived “sarcastic” reply did not go over well. He
immediately dropped me for push-ups while he talked about my
ancestors. Finally, our company drill sergeant saw what was
happening and came to my rescue. He told the instructor that my
compass buddy was found dead in his bunk (below me) that morning
from meningitis. John was a good guy and I enjoyed working with
him. I guess the old bus driver was partly right—some of us did die
before finishing training.
It was a great, wet eight weeks of Advanced Infantry Training that
allowed me to qualify as expert with the M-14 A1 fully automatic
rifle, M-60 machine gun, 3.5-inch rocket launcher and M1911 .45
caliber pistol. I was promoted to private first class (E-3) at the end of
AIT and flew home for a short leave before going to Ft. Benning,
Georgia, for Infantry Officer Candidate School (OCS) with Bob and
Pete.
OCS – Fort Benning, Georgia
I reported to OCS 92nd Company a little after 2000 hours dressed in
my khaki uniform with my Infantry cord on my shoulder, National
Defense Medal and PFC stripes on my uniform. I looked good. The
senior cadet in charge of quarters that night didn’t think so. He went
ballistic! How dare I come into his orderly room dressed like that. I
was a low-life cadet who had no rank or awards. I was sent outside to
rip off my stripes and anything else attached to my uniform before I
could sign in. I knew I was going to get six months of harassment,
but I wasn’t expecting it to start so soon.
More bad news was coming. When I got upstairs and met my two
roommates, they told me we had reported five weeks early because of
a scheduling mix-up. (Everyone who has ever been in the military
can tell you about “hurry up and wait!”) The seniors had moved out
of the barracks so we would have a place to stay, but they would be
back every day to give us things to do for them and harass us. It was
going to be a fun five weeks!
Later in the week, Bob and I met Keith Pennington from Griffin,
Georgia. The three of us became close friends and remained together
until we arrived in Vietnam (Bob later became engaged to Keith’s
sister).

CPT Pollack was our Company Commander. He had recently

completed a combat tour in Vietnam, which gave him a lot of street
cred. Unfortunately, he was killed on his second tour in Vietnam
toward the end of 1968.
I did well in OCS and requested to go to Airborne school followed
by an assignment with Special Forces (which included the SF
qualification course) after graduation. It was approved almost
immediately. I was commissioned a Second Lieutenant in the
Infantry on January 22, 1968. My father asked me why I wanted to
be in Special Forces. My reply was, “If I’m going to Vietnam, I want
to be the best of the best.”
Airborne School – Fort Benning, Georgia
Bob, Keith and I rented an apartment for the three weeks we were
running and making parachute jumps. Airborne school was
outstanding. It prepared me to do one thing: throw myself out of a
perfectly good airplane traveling over 120 MPH at an altitude of 1250
feet and survive! I was really impressed with the training process.
From Airborne school, Bob, Keith, Pete and I traveled to Fort Bragg
for a Special Forces assignment—provided we passed the
qualification course. Bob, Keith and I moved into a trailer in a trailer
park just off post. It was a tight fit, but it was mostly a place to store
our gear and sleep out of the rain, sometimes.

Assigned to 3rd Special Forces Group – Fort Bragg, North

Carolina
We began our assignment in the 3rd Special Forces Group while we
waited on the Special Forces Officer Qualification Course (SFOC 68-
4) to begin. It was a challenging mixture of academics, tactics,
strategy, physical fitness, field operations and training in the basic
Special Forces skills. Q Course students were assigned to “A-Teams”
for the duration of the training. That’s where Bob, Pete, Keith and I
met and became friends with Chuck Adams, Ray Stacks, MAJ
Denton, Dr. John Bosco, Rich Todd, Pat Cunningham, Joe Gayer and
Hal Hepler.
Three months later, our entire team graduated from the Q
Course, received our “Flash” and credentials that signified we were
Green Berets.
Special Forces Qualified – Fort Bragg, North Carolina.
100 men will test today, but only 3 win the Green Beret!
Special Forces Qualified at last and assigned to the 3rd Special
Forces Group! Special Forces was not just about going in to conduct
a raid or ambush. SF in Vietnam was more about going in to win the
hearts and minds of the people. In the qualification course we
trained on insurgencies, how governments are overthrown, different
things like that as well as raids, ambushes, underground railroads,
explosives, lock picking and the major specialties in which the Non-
Commissioned Officers (NCOs) were trained: demolitions, light
weapons, heavy weapons, communications, and combat trauma care,
except in less detail. For example, the medical specialty for the NCOs
was 12 months of intense medical training including basic surgery.

As an officer leading an A-Team, two members of my team were

Special Forces medic qualified. When I was in the Special Forces
Officer Q Course we did a lot of work on large scale insurgencies,
escape and evasion processes, winning the hearts and minds of the
people, and training the indigenous population in guerrilla
operations. Officers were trained in all the primary skill sets of
Special Forces, whereas NCOs coming out of the Q Course, went to
an in-depth training program for a specific specialty, for example,
light weapons, heavy weapons, medical, communications, etc.
Officers had to be trained in the basics of all the skill sets to be able
to appropriately use the team’s abilities.
Mission Prep for Africa – Fort Bragg, North Carolina
Bob and I were assigned to a B-Team in the 3rd Special Forces Group
at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. The 3rd Group’s target area was
Africa. Our B-Team was preparing for a mission in Africa. Not what
Bob and I wanted to do. We submitted a Form1049 (paperwork to
volunteer for an assignment) for immediate assignment to the 5th
Special Forces Group in Vietnam. We had joined the Army to go to
Vietnam, not Africa.
 Our preparation for the Africa mission continued and involved
getting a lot of vaccinations. We also began training with the types of
weapons we were likely to encounter there including the AK-47 rifle.
I enjoyed the weapons training.
Quick Kill
When training to fire a weapon, you typically turn sideways and
shoot. But when the enemy is shooting at you, your brain takes over
and says, “Face the enemy.” Your body instinctively turns toward the
enemy. For short distance encounters, you need to train to shoot
without aiming. Pointing is much faster and can be as accurate as
aiming since your eyes find it difficult to focus on the sights under
high stress. Our group went through an intensive course called Quick
Kill where we trained to shoot from the hip or under the armpit. We
started with BB guns and shot at miniature silhouettes on a 2x4,
shooting from the hip until we could knock them all down. Then we
started throwing three-inch disks up in the air and shot until we
could hit that moving disk. The disks got smaller and smaller until
we were shooting quarter-sized disks in the air.
Next, we moved to a course where targets popped up and we used
M-16s and live ammunition until we could hit all the targets without
aiming. This included target discrimination where some targets that
popped up were good guys. We had to make split-second decisions
whether the target was friend or foe. It was amazing how quickly we
became proficient after only practicing a few days. This technique
would soon prove to be a lifesaver for me. It was one of the most
valuable skill sets I learned for surviving in the jungles of Southeast
Asia. Life or death is often determined by a fraction of a second.
Special Forces was an airborne unit. We found ourselves making
a lot of parachute jumps from different types of aircraft, with and
without rucksacks, day and night. Our parachuting skills increased
rapidly. So did our tolerance to resist air sickness on the planes. We
flew low and it was always a rough ride.
Demolition training was one of my favorites. We moved from the
intermediate level taught in the Q Course to advanced techniques.
For example, how to drop a bridge, wire cars to detonate, building
lots of different booby-traps (IEDs). We used all kinds of fuses,
detonators, explosives, trip wires, mines, etc.
Ranger School – Fort Benning, Georgia
Bob and I had also volunteered for Ranger School, nine weeks of
brutal mental and physical training. We got a lot of extra harassment
because we were from a rival elite unit, Special Forces. For example,
to report into Ranger School we had to knock on the training
company admin door and request permission to enter. Bob and I
watched others in line ahead of us go through the reporting process.
It appeared that students couldn’t knock on the door hard enough
without having to go through the process several times with lots of
push-ups in between.
When it was our turn, Bob and I backed up and ran into the door
together so hard we knocked it off its hinges. The door landed with a
loud bang in front of the table where two Ranger Instructors were
seated. We reported to them, (Ranger Thompson reporting for
training, Sirs! Ranger Sheridan reporting for training, Sirs!”) The
legendary MSG Brunel looked at us, looked down at the roster, and
told the other Ranger Instructor, “We’ve got two snake-eaters here.
We have to keep our eyes on them and make sure they don’t crap in
the company street. You never know what these &%$#* are going to
do!” It went downhill from there. Ranger School became a tug-of-war
between Special Forces and Rangers. When they dropped us for
push-ups, we were required to do an extra push-up for the “Big
Ranger in the sky” before we could get up. Bob and I always added
“And two more for the big SF Trooper who watches over the Big
Ranger!” That never went over well, and they would put us back
down again. We developed a reputation that went with us from the
Ft. Benning training phase to the Mountain training phase to the
Florida training phase.
We tried to have as much fun in Ranger School as we could
because it was tough; being able to put a little humor in it along the
way helped. Our class started at Ft. Benning with 248 Ranger
students and picked up some recycles along the way. We graduated
135. Of these, 75 earned the coveted black and gold Ranger tab, less
than 30% of the original class. Bob and I were among them. In
reality, I was the outstanding graduate of our class, but politics came
into play and Major Berzotts edged me out the night before
graduation when a Spot Report (10 points) was miraculously
discovered that put him two points ahead of me.
 Once we graduated from Ranger School, most of the class,
including Bob and me, traveled to the nearest steak house and
bought big T-bone steaks. We only ate about a quarter of the steak
before we had to run to the parking lot and throw up. The small
amount of food during the Ranger course had caused our stomachs
to shrink and reject big greasy steaks! It was all part of the Ranger
experience. The hardcore Rangers, like Bob and me, tried to re-eat
the larger pieces we threw-up, but they wouldn’t stay down the
second time either.
Bob and I had been together since Basic Training. We had
attended the same training, at the same time and always in the same
squad because the Army made assignments alphabetically. When we
arrived back at Fort Bragg, we discovered that our orders had been
changed. We were no longer going to Africa with our team. Our new
destination was Vietnam with a 5th Special Forces Group
assignment! We had a couple of weeks to make arrangements to
leave Fort Bragg, then take a leave before traveling to the other side
of the world “to exotic places to meet interesting people and
terminate them.”

Lessons Learned
Special Forces
Special Forces are hardcore warriors. Not everyone can eat
glass.
Special Forces operators were the “intellectual, quiet
professionals.”
We did a lot of physical training in our preparation for
deployment to Africa. This helped to prepare us to meet the
physical and mental demands of Ranger School.
“Quick Kill” training continued to forge my mindset of speed
(fraction of a second) and accuracy (multiple bullets on target vs
one in a very specific location).
Sniper skills are different than those needed for close quarters
combat.
Ranger School
Special Forces and Ranger are states of mind. These mindsets
allow you to do the impossible. Everyone does not have the
ability to develop/use these states of mind.
Your body will quit if your brain lets it.
You can always do more than you think you can.
You can perform a long time with little food, sleep or rest— but
your decision-making effectiveness degrades rapidly.
I became very skilled at land navigation, especially at night.
Very impressed with what I learned from SFC Shelly, one of the
Ranger Instructors at the Mountain Ranger Camp. He was the
definition of hard core.
Becoming an expert in one area creates unconscious bias in that
area that results in blind spots in other areas. Blind spots lead to
poor decision-making.
Stress creates blind spots through focusing of attention.
Pain really is weakness leaving the body.
Pain occurs in levels with the most intense pain hiding the less
intense pain. If I poke my finger in your eye, the pain from your
broken ankle will temporarily disappear.
Exhalations allow you to manage more pain.
Special Operations training (Special Forces, Ranger, SEAL, etc.)
is designed to be mentally and physically difficult. Training any
other way creates a false sense of ability that will get more
people killed during the intense combat situations these
warriors face.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 3
Do Not Volunteer for SOG!

Old Blue
Old Blue runnin’ through the yellow corn Blue come a runnin’ when
I blew my horn. Hey, Blue, You’re a good dog, you. Old Blue died,
and he died so hard it shook the ground in my backyard.
Hey, Blue, You’re a good dog, you. Dug his grave with a silver
spade. Lowered him down with a golden chain. Hey, Blue, You’re a
good dog, you. Link by link I lowered the chain, And with each link,
I called his name. Hey, Blue, You’re a good dog, you.

At this point SOG members would start adding the names of those
who were killed, such as, “Reno, Thorne, McNam, too.” They would
sing the same song over for each Recon Team member who was
recently killed in action or missing in action—a long list—and toast to
each.
Travel to RVN
After a 30-day pre-deployment leave, my parents took me to the
Atlanta airport to begin my long journey to Vietnam. My mother
wanted to come in and stay with me until my plane departed, but I
told her I didn’t want a long goodbye. I would be back in 12 months.
It wasn’t a big deal. She was not happy but agreed. After some hugs
and tears I was off on an adventure of a lifetime!
I navigated the airport wearing a Green Beret. It was amazing
how well-known John Wayne in The Green Berets movie and Barry
Sadler with his song “The Ballad of the Green Berets” had made that
beret. People tended to give me a wide berth as I moved through the
airport. I heard a few derogatory remarks shouted from a distance
but took some deep breaths and kept going. Soon I was on the plane
to Los Angeles.
I linked up with Bob in LA for the long flight to Vietnam. We
stopped once for fuel, then headed for Cam Ranh Bay, South
Vietnam. It was a very long flight! It was 1968, and the Tet Offensive
was full-on; it had begun on 31 January 1968 and would last until 23
September 1968. That year would see the highest weekly death rates
of the war (250–300 Americans a week). Shortly before arriving at
Cam Ranh Bay the pilot came on the intercom to brief us on what
was going to happen when we approached the airport. He
encouraged us not to panic even though our descent was going to be
a steep nosedive and flare out just before touching down. We needed
to keep our seat belts fastened because it was going to be a fast taxi
with several turns to the off-load ramp (steps to the ground).
The pilot announced that we needed to be prepared to off-load
quickly and safely through the front exit doors. He wanted us to be
aware that personnel leaving Vietnam would be loading the plane
through the rear of the aircraft as we were deplaning out the front.
The engines would continue to run. The plane would spend the
minimum time possible on the ground. It would be a dangerous time
while so many personnel were congregated in one small spot. The
enemy liked to attack the planes on the way in, on the ground, and
during take-off. He was sure we would be fine. “And, by the way,” he
added, “enjoy your stay in the exotic country of South Vi-ettt-Naam!”
The descent was quite an experience. It felt like we were going to
crash. Everything was in fast motion. The flight crew and ground
crew were like a well-oiled machine. They did this several times a
week, every week. When I stepped out into what I thought was going
to be fresh air, I was immediately hit with the smell of JP-4 jet fuel
and other strange smells, some that burned my eyes. Red dust was in
the air all around the airfield and it looked like pure chaos on the
ground. Aircraft of all types were taxiing, taking off, landing and
flying over us. Vehicles were scampering all along the taxi ways. It
was very loud and windy. The civilians looked very different. (The
good news was I felt tall.)
There was no doubt that I was not in Kansas (South Carolina) any
longer. This was a different place with a different set of rules! A
major transition from the country and culture I had known all my life
to something bizarre and extremely dangerous. My world and life
had changed forever in less than 24 hours. Even the time was 12
hours different. Day was night and night was day. We entered the
plane in one world, then stepped off the plane into what seemed like
another dimension, a strange and perilous planet.
We went quickly through customs/arrival procedures, then were
transported to the reception center for in-processing. A Special
Forces sergeant gathered up those of us who were going to a Special
Forces assignment and took us on a short ride to Nha Trang. There
we were assigned temporary quarters, given instructions for the next
day, and fed. Bob and I made contact with CPT John Smith, a friend
of ours from Ft. Bragg. He got to Vietnam a few weeks ahead of us
and was already working in a Mike Force. Another good friend of
ours, 1LT Ray Stacks, from Ft. Bragg had left four weeks ahead of us,
but we had no idea where he had been assigned.
John updated us on things that were going on in-country,
especially with the Tet Offensive, Special Forces and the types of SF
assignments we might want to ask for the next day. He said,
“Tomorrow, toward the end of the day, one of the last things they are
going to do is ask you if you want to volunteer for SOG. DO. NOT.
DO IT! Regardless of how cool they make it sound, DO NOT
VOLUNTEER FOR SOG! Just tell them NO! If you volunteer, you
WILL die! Almost all of them die! The ones who don’t die get the
crap shot out of them several times and return to the States as nut
cases! DON’T DO IT!”
“Just say No! They’ll say ‘thank you,’ and you’ll move on to your
Special Forces assignment. We’ll meet back tomorrow evening, and
you can tell me about your assignments. I might know some people
where you are going.”
We spent the evening talking about old times and various aspects
of the culture. His parting words were, “Remember what I said. DO
NOT VOLUNTEER FOR SOG!”
The next day, toward the end of the day, Bob and I sat in an office
waiting to meet with Colonel Jones for our assignment, and Bob said,
“What are you going to do if he asks about SOG?” I said, “If he does,
I’ll make my decision and you make yours. This might be the last
decision we ever make. This is not a joint decision. I’ll make mine.
You make yours. Just think carefully about what John said.”
Consciously or unconsciously, my decision had been made. I strongly
suspected that Bob’s had too. But, if he chose to die, it had to be his
decision.
I had heard rumors of SOG. At Fort Bragg, once in a while
someone would mention SOG, and if you asked what it was, you
heard things like, “Oh, man . . . it’s top secret. No one can tell you
what it is, except that it is the most BA unit in the world. They really
do some cool missions. They are the elite of the elite. Only a few
survive and they are bat @#*$ crazy. Most who go there are KIA or
MIA. But nobody can tell you what they really do—or where they do
it.”
Bob, Keith, Ray and I were in a bar one evening in Fayetteville,
North Carolina, and one of the guys with us nodded toward a guy
and said, “The rumor is that he was in SOG. Don’t make eye contact.
Those guys are totally crazy. They will kill you at the drop of a hat
and think nothing about it. And your body will never be found!”
We had to meet with Colonel Jones individually to get our final
Special Forces assignment. I went in first. He went over the
highlights of my background and qualifications and said, “I see that
you volunteered for the Army, OCS, Airborne, Special Forces,
Rangers and Vietnam. And now you have the opportunity to
volunteer for the most important job that you will ever have. Based
on what I see in your file, you are perfect for the job.” He continued,
“This is a job that is so elite that only the people who do it know what
it is. If you take this job no one will ever know that you did it, where
you did it or what you did. It will not be in your records. You cannot
tell anyone. And you will have to sign papers agreeing not to tell
anyone. It is very rare that I offer this opportunity to anyone, but I’m
offering it to you. (I did not believe this statement.) What do you
think?”
I said, “It would help if I knew what the job was.” He said, “I
understand. All I can say is that you will be volunteering to go
ANYWHERE and do ANYTHING. No questions asked.” I asked, “Are
you asking me if I want to join SOG?” He asked, “Is that what you
want to do?” I looked him in the eyes and said, “Yes.” “Are you sure,
Lieutenant?” he replied. I repeated, “Yes.”
“If you are serious, you will have to sign some documents. The
first says that you are volunteering to go anywhere and do anything
for six months or six missions, whichever comes first. You need to
understand that I am saying anything. Do you agree?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“Then sign this document agreeing to go anywhere and do
anything for six months or six missions. You also have to sign a non-
disclosure form that says you can’t tell anyone in any manner about
what you did or where you went for a minimum period of 20 years. If
you violate these agreements in any way, you will be prosecuted to
the fullest extent of the law. You are voluntarily agreeing to and
signing these documents.”
I signed the documents.
“Thank you, Lieutenant Thompson. I sincerely wish you the best
of luck. And remember, this conversation never took place.”
(Someone actually said this for real!) He handed me a note with
instructions on where to be at 1300 the next day for transportation to
Da Nang. He sent me out the back door and brought Bob in the front
door.
I went to the bar to meet John. When he saw me walking up to
the bar, he said, “You did it! I can see it on your face! You are a &%$*
DEAD MAN WALKING! $#&* @@#$ *&^%! I told you not to do
that. Crap! I thought you were smarter than that. Bartender, give this
stupid SOB a double Jack and coke!”
When John saw Bob walking up to the bar, he said, “You did it
too. I can see it on your face. YOU ARE BOTH DEAD MEN
WALKING! $#&* @@#$ *&^% I told you two not to do that. Crap,
Bob! I thought you were smarter than Thompson. Bartender, give
this stupid SOB a double Jack and coke!” John repeated his remarks
about what we had done several times that evening.
The chances for survival, if you ended up on a SOG team were
very low. You knew that at a minimum the best thing that could
happen to you on a SOG mission was to get the crap shot out of you.
That meant you had a good mission. The other option was you got
killed. SOG operators had the highest casualty rate in Vietnam. They
just didn’t survive. That was scary, but at the same time exciting!
John had a surprise for us. He had arranged for us to be guests of
honor at a Chinese wedding that evening. The wedding was
interesting, but what happened after the wedding was even more so.
The groom’s friends escorted him to each table of guests where he
had to chug what looked like vodka with the table. There were a lot of
tables. His groomsmen were literally carrying him before he finished
visiting all the tables.
Then the food was served beginning with the head table where we
were seated. We each were given a big bowl of soup. As I dug around
in the soup, I could feel something in it. I could see that the guests at
the tables were eating big pieces of chicken. When I lifted my
Chinese spoon out of the soup, I had a big chicken head with
everything except the feathers. John said, “Eat it. You don’t want to
insult them. Everyone is watching.” Bob had a pair of chicken feet—
complete with toenails. Our Chinese hosts considered what we had in
our soup to be the best parts of the chicken! Needless to say, we had
to get something to eat after the wedding. We were learning
something new every day.
Traveling to CCN
The next day we had to fly from Nha Trang to Da Nang, because if
you were going to SOG you had to start at Da Nang. From there you
literally disappeared! You went through a black hole and no one
outside of a few people in SOG knew where you were until you and
your coffin (empty or not) arrived back in the States.
When we got to the airfield, the escort took us to a restricted
(classified) area. The C-130s and C-123s that came into that part of
the airfield were black and were called Black Birds. That added to the
sense that we were going down a black hole. We had not seen or
heard of black C-130s before. When we boarded the aircraft, we
realized it didn’t have seats! The seatbelts were on the floor! The
plane was gutted of everything else. Toward the front there was a big
red line painted across the floor that said: Do NOT Go Beyond This
Line. Classified Area. Something was happening in the front of these
planes that we were not allowed to see or know about. Even with our
top-secret security clearances! I asked Bob what kind of security
clearance he thought you had to have to go beyond the red line. He
had no idea.
We sat on the floor and fastened our seat belts. The crew chief
came by and said, “We don’t have seats in this plane. Sorry about
that. When we take off we will immediately go into a steep climb.
When we get ready to land, we’ll go into a steep nose-dive, pull out at
the last minute and hit the runway a few seconds later. Fasten in
tight and be ready to experience some serious g-forces. Enjoy the
flight!” The takeoff and landing were definitely an experience. We
were beginning to notice a pattern in takeoffs and landings.
It would have been a “fun” experience if I didn’t have that little
voice in the back of my mind saying, “There must be something
pretty dangerous outside to require this kind of flying.” We didn’t
ask. Just something else to get used to.
An escort met us when we got off the Black Bird. He said,
“There’ll be a bus here to pick you up in about ten minutes to take
you to FOB4.” A few minutes later, a black school bus arrived. But
not just any school bus. This was a SOG school bus. We knew that it
was a SOG school bus not just because it was black, but because we
could see that all the windows were shot out, the seats were ripped
apart from being hit with bullets and there were at least 200 bullet
holes in the bus— that we could see! As Bob and I looked at the bus I
said, “What have we gotten into?” The young sergeant driving the
bus called for us to get in. He said, “We’ll leave in a few minutes.
We’re picking up a team here too.” Bob said, “What happened to the
bus?” The driver responded, “Well, we have to go through a pass on
the way to Da Nang and we get ambushed there a lot. If it happens
today, the main things for you two to remember are, get on the floor
of the bus and do whatever the team leader tells you to do. The team
will take care of everything. Just do what they tell you to do if you
want to live.” At that point, Bob said, “Man, this isn’t looking good.
We might not even get to FOB-4!”
Suddenly, a group of seven of the most BA, meanest, deadliest
looking men, animals, warriors—I don’t know which—literally
appeared out of thin air and approached the bus. The one in the back
was walking backwards and looking to the rear as if he thought
someone might be following them. Even 50 years later, I can still feel
the adrenaline rush generated by the force field of awe surrounding
those warriors as they approached the bus. Bob and I had been
through a lot of training including Special Forces qualification, an SF
assignment, Ranger training and training for a combat mission in
Africa, but this team did not look like anything we had seen before.
Two of the seven appeared to be Americans because they were
taller than the others. They were all camouflaged, heavily armed with
strange weapons and loaded with all kinds of gear, a lot of which we
had not seen before. Hand grenades and smoke grenades hung all
over them. In addition to their primary weapons each had a knife
and most had pistols. Two had what appeared to be M-79 grenade
launchers with the barrels and stocks sawed off so they looked like
big, fat pistols. They wore pouches of ammunition hung around their
waists and some type of ruck—no flak jacket; no helmet; just rags
tied around their heads; no patches or markings on their uniforms;
no dog tags; and a demeanor that seemed to communicate, “I will rip
your face off and eat it if you make eye contact with me!” These guys
evoked the kind of fear that would make the hair stand up on the
back of your neck and arms if you saw them. It was surreal.
Bob and I were in awe of this team! They boarded the bus and
immediately took up defensive positions. It seemed they hoped that
the NVA would ambush us along the way. One of the Americans, we
assumed the team leader, said, “If anything happens on the way to
FOB-4, you guys get on the floor of the bus and stay there until we
tell you to get up. Is that clear?” Bob replied in his most macho voice,
“Yeah. We got it.”
These were serious warriors of the first order, and it was
reassuring to have them to protect us. And we knew that in a few
days we would be on teams like this one. That was exciting to think
about. I really liked that short-barreled, collapsible version of the M-
16 they were carrying! We arrived at FOB-4 (CCN) late afternoon—
without getting ambushed. The team seemed to be disappointed that
we didn’t! They moved quickly off the bus and instantly disappeared.
It was as if they had walked into another dimension. We were
welcomed by another escort and because it was getting late in the
day, we were assigned to guest quarters and briefed on which
defensive bunker to go to if we heard the “incoming” siren go off
during the night.
He said, “If the siren goes off, whatever you do, don’t sit up in
bed. If you do, your head will be higher than the sandbags around the
building. A few weeks ago, we had a guy killed his first night here
because he sat up and a bullet hit him in the head. Roll off onto the
floor, crawl to the door, peek outside from the floor to make sure
there’s not an NVA standing there waiting to kill you. We’ve had lots
of guys killed that way too.”
I asked, “Can we get weapons? We’re unarmed.” He responded,
“Sorry about that! You’ll be issued weapons tomorrow if you stay
here. Just be careful tonight.” He told us we would be briefed in the
Command briefing room by the Camp Commander, Colonel Warren,
at 0830 the next morning and not to be late. He then took us to the
mess hall and told us to eat and relax. He reminded us again not to
be late!
The food was much better than I expected—and there was plenty
of it. Looking around the mess hall it was relatively easy to pick out
the Operators from the REMFs (Rear Echelon Mother F$@&s). The
Operators dressed, looked and acted differently. There was a
coldness about their eyes. Probably resulting from what they had
seen and would see again. These people were truly the elite warriors
of the world. The elite of the elite. The most dangerous men on the
planet. I thought I had been around some bad people in my time but
never anyone like these guys. They literally made the hair stand up
on the back of your neck. No one would ever know the horror these
men had experienced. It was as if they had an invisible bubble
around them like a warning to “keep your distance.” You could
physically feel it if you got too close. I wondered if people would ever
experience me that way. A strange thought.
Our escort said a John Wayne movie would be showing that
night. “A movie?” I asked. He responded, “The camp’s Vietnamese
carpenters constructed some bleachers in a small open area, nailed
up a few sheets of plywood, painted them white and set up a movie
projector. The Supply Sergeant gets movies from somewhere and
they show a movie out there most evenings if it’s not raining.”
As it started to get dark Bob and I made our way to the small
movie theater. The bleachers were facing Marble Mountain, a
prominent mountain that jutted straight up out of the sand 450 feet
just outside of the compound’s defensive wire. It had two peaks; each
peak had a combat outpost on it because if the bad guys got up there,
they could shoot down into the FOB-4 compound.
 We were sitting in the bleachers, in the dark watching the John
Wayne movie, when suddenly the mountain lit up like a 4th of July
fireworks display. Red and green tracers went back and forth all over
the mountain along with a series of loud explosions and flares. Bob
and I jumped out of the bleachers and landed prostrate on the sand.
Everyone else just sat there watching the movie.
I asked a guy in the bleachers what was happening. He said,
“Sorry about that, Lieutenant! It happens almost every night. (“Sorry
about that” was becoming ubiquitous.) The NVA try to take out the
two combat outposts on the mountain. They put on a pretty
impressive light show up there. Eventually the teams will kill the
NVA and it’ll get quiet, except for the NVA snipers who will continue
to shoot at the team throughout the night. It will be fine. Enjoy the
movie. They don’t shoot down here. They just shoot at each other.
Remember that the red tracers are the good guys, and the green ones
are the bad guys. If you stay at FOB-4 (CCN), you will get plenty of
time on the mountain. Teams are sent up there between missions to
get some rest and target practice against targets that shoot back.”
SOG Briefing & Assignment
The next morning after breakfast, we went to the Command Briefing
room and discovered there were seven other new SOG recruits. Bob
and I knew LT Jones from Ft. Bragg. Like us, he could not resist an
“experience/opportunity” like SOG. SGM Johnson took us into the
briefing room and gave us the briefing before the briefing. All the
walls were covered with curtains. He said, “Gentlemen, this is a Top
Secret Limited briefing room. Once this briefing begins, you cannot
change your mind about being in SOG. If you have any doubts, step
out of the room now! Am I clear?” We all responded, “Yes, Sergeant
Major!”
“You will not take any notes about what you see or hear in this
room. You are not to discuss anything said in this room outside of
this room. Am I clear?” We all responded, “Yes, Sergeant Major!”
“When the Colonel finishes his briefing, you will stand at
attention as he is leaving. Then, you belong to me! And make sure
you do not ask the Colonel any stupid questions! Am I clear?” We
responded, “Yes, Sergeant Major!”
 When the FOB-4 (CCN) commander walked in, we all stood up at
attention. He said, “At ease. Take your seats. I’m Lieutenant Colonel
Warren. Let me tell you what SOG is about and what you have
volunteered to do—that you can never tell anyone about.
“You have volunteered to serve in the Military Advisory
Command Vietnam, Studies and Observations Group (MACV-SOG).
This is your official assignment. And if you believe you are here to do
Studies and Observations on what happens in Vietnam, then you are
dumber than an effing board and need to leave now! If you stay, you
can never leave, not alive anyway. You have just become a member of
the most elite fighting force in the world. You have volunteered to go
ANYWHERE and do ANYTHING! And you can never tell anyone
about it! If that is not what you are here for, leave now! Once I start
the briefing, you are all in. Am I clear?” We responded, “Yes, Sir!”
LTC Warren explained that MACV-SOG was a top-secret multi-
service US Special Operations Force unit, established 24 January
1964 to conduct unconventional warfare operations in Southeast
Asia associated with the Vietnam War. Operations took place in
South Vietnam, North Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia and other Southeast
Asia areas as required. MACV-SOG had participated in the most
significant campaigns of the Vietnam War.
“In short, we are North Vietnam’s worst nightmare!” He
uncovered some maps on the wall and started talking about the kinds
of missions we would be conducting. I had heard rumors that SOG
possibly operated outside of Vietnam, so I wasn’t surprised Vietnam
was just a training range for preparing for our missions. SOG
missions were mostly conducted outside of Vietnam. We would be
going into other Southeast Asian countries. There were others, but
they were too classified for this briefing.
He said that SOG was structured with three primary commands:
Command and Control North (CCN) at Da Nang, Command and
Control Central (CCC) at Kontum and Command and Control South
(CCS) located at Dalat (see Map at left). Each of these commands had
a Recon Company with Reconnaissance Teams (RTs) originally
called Spike Teams, which at full strength had three Americans and
nine indigenous members.
Hatchet Force (HF) companies were also located at these
commands. An HF platoon had approximately 42 members. SOG
had Forward Operational Bases (FOBs) located in specific areas to
support the missions, numbered FOB-1 to FOB-6.
Launch sites were set up along the Vietnam border to support the
insertion of teams into Areas of Operation (AOs). There was also a
launch site located in Thailand at Nakhon Phanom (NKP)
approximately 75 miles from the North Vietnam border. The
northern teams were named after states, central teams named after
snakes and southern teams named after tools. (FOB-1 was closed in
January 1969 resulting in some teams being shuffled around among
the Command and Controls.) The RTs and Hatchet Forces were
composed of Vietnamese, Montagnard, Chinese Hmong, Laotian or
Cambodian mercenaries. LTC Warren said that in general we would
be conducting cross-border operations to disrupt the Viet Cong,
Khmer Rouge, Pathet Lao and North Vietnamese in their own
territories. These missions included:
Recover imprisoned and missing Americans
Training agents for insertion into North Vietnam
“Black” psychological operations
Raids and ambushes
Prisoner snatches
Assassinations
“Doctored” ammunition
Document retrieval
Wire taps
Pipeline destruction
B-52 bomb damage assessment
Search and destroy
Other missions as assigned
The kinds of missions didn’t surprise me much. Well, maybe a few
did, but for the most part, I felt like I had arrived at the James Bond
level. The world elite level. The bat @#*$ crazy level—but very cool. I
also realized that now I had gone into a black hole for sure. I looked
around expecting to see Alice or the White Rabbit at any time. Then I
realized that LTC Warren was Alice!
After LTC Warren finished his briefing and left, the SGM took
over. He gave us his overview, covered some administrative things
(like how the mail system worked) and more about security,
classified information and mission compartmentalization—we would
only know what our own team was doing. If the NVA captured us, no
matter how much they tortured us they would not be able to get
information about other missions.
We also got to pick our official Code Names. I wanted “Ranger,”
but Bob spoke up before me and asked for Ranger. Then I saw
“Dynamite,” and I thought it was fitting for me seeing as how I had
always liked to blow things up and I was relatively small. “Dynamite”
would work for me. I had blown my neighbor’s windows out when I
was a teenager with a rocket that exploded on its launch pad. I didn’t
intend for that to happen, but I was always blowing things up. I
figured I would probably be blowing things up in Southeast Asia.
(And I did get to blow up a lot of things, for example, bridges,
helicopters, bad guys, ammunitions dumps, etc.) I always carried a
lot of C-4 and other explosives with me. It would be my code name to
identify myself if I were wounded or something bad happened to me.
(There would be occasions where my code name would be used as
my call sign.) Normally, mission call signs were three alphanumeric
characters assigned to each mission, e.g., Alpha Tango 7.
We were also asked to give answers to three security questions
that, interestingly enough, are the same ones we use 50 years later
with credit cards and computers. For example, the name of your first
dog, the make of your first car.
Then, the bad news. The Sergeant Major (SGM) read out our
assignments. I would be going to FOB-1 (at Phu Bai) up North. Bob
would be going down to FOB-2 (at CCC around Kontum). It would be
the first time in almost two years that Bob and I did not get the same
assignment. We were not happy about it, but we had a war to fight.
When the meeting was over, we left to fly to our respective
assignments. Bob and I said goodbye, made the appropriate
comments about keeping your head down and see you in 12 months.
The last thing I said to Bob was, “Bob, make sure you are here!” I did
not have a good feeling about our separation. Was this the last time
we would ever see or speak to each other?
Lessons Learned
I boarded a plane in a world I had known all my life and got off
the plane in a strange, dangerous, wild west world on steroids
with a very different set of rules. It was like entering another
dimension.
All my senses were confused. Nothing made sense. My circadian
rhythm was 12 hours off.
Death was in the air. You could smell it. You could feel it.
Bob and I made a decision a lot of people questioned—we
volunteered for MACV-SOG.
We had approached the event horizon of a black hole and were
being pulled inside where nothing escapes.
We were at the elite of the elite level. The best of the best—or
craziest of the crazy.
In the new world I was given a new name, “Dynamite,” and sent
North on a quest to hunt down and terminate the enemy.

OceanofPDF.com
 PART 2

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 4
Phu Bai (FOB-1)

We don’t receive wisdom; we must discover it for ourselves after a

journey that no one can take for us.
—Marcel Proust

Teammates/Friends KIA/MIA OCT-NOV 1968

SP5 Gary L. Matson, KIA OCT 30
SSG Arthur E. Bader, Jr., KIA NOV 30
SGT Gary R. la Bohn, KIA NOV 30
SSG Michael H. Mein, KIA NOV 30
SFC Klaus D. Scholz, KIA NOV 30
1LT Raymond C. Stacks, KIA NOV 30
MAJ Samuel K. Toomey, III, KIA NOV 30
After we finished the briefing at CCN, I walked with the other new
SOG volunteers going to FOB-1 at Phu Bai to the helipad at the far
end of the compound. The helipad was constructed from PSP
(perforated steel planks). There we boarded a CH-34 “Kingbee”
helicopter without doors. It was about a 30-minute noisy, windy and
bumpy ride. When we got to Phu Bai, an escort took us to the FOB-1
compound and to the mess hall for a short briefing before lunch.
SGM McIntosh gave us a briefing on the FOB-1 compound,
security, safety, rules and the general area of operations. Then he
said everyone would be going to 1-0 school, a week-long course to
teach us how to lead a SOG team on top secret missions across
Southeast Asia. Actually, he said everyone was going except me.
When I asked why I wasn’t going, the SGM said, “Lieutenant, you are
Special Forces and Ranger qualified. There are a few things they
might teach you that you have not done already, but not much. You
can learn those things from your team which you will be assigned to
tomorrow afternoon. We are putting you to work.”
“Get settled in your quarters this afternoon. Learn your way
around the compound and which defensive bunker to go to if we are
attacked. Go to the supply room and draw your initial equipment,
weapon and ammunition. While you are in the supply room, tell SSG
Jones you are the officer that will help him with his task in the
morning.”
When I got to my quarters, I met my new roommate, Captain
Alonzo Smith, the FOB-1 supply officer. We hit it off right away and
he showed me around the compound. I met him again at 1730 for
dinner. He suggested that since this might be my last free night, I
might want to go to the movie. I thought, I’ve heard that before! I
asked, “Are you going?” He replied, “No. I don’t have time.”
As it turned out, we had a little theater at FOB-1 that had a tin
roof on it so you wouldn’t get wet when it rained, and it rained a lot.
There were also small benches to sit on. A piece of plywood painted
white was the screen. I went to the movie that evening and thought it
was pretty cool. We were in a combat zone. It was 97 degrees and
96% humidity. It was night and I was sitting in a pretend movie
theater next to an old, live French minefield watching a movie—with
no popcorn.
The movie had been on for about 15 minutes. I was sitting in the
middle of a group of 12 guys, mostly indigenous team members,
when I heard a loud, POW! The Montagnard (we called them Yards)
sitting next to me fell off the bench to the ground. People scattered. I
went to the ground with the Yard who was hit in the shoulder.
Twelve inches to the left and it would have been my chest. After we
got his bleeding under control, the medics took him to the hospital.
That effectively ended the movie for that night. I wasn’t that much
into movie night for a while. Just wasn’t having a good experience
with movie nights! I remembered hearing in my training at Fort
Bragg, “If you can be seen, you can be hit. If you can be hit, you can
be killed!” I was beginning to gain a lot of respect for not being seen
—or hit!
The next morning, I went to the supply room after breakfast.
When I got there, SSG Jones the supply sergeant, told me that
several SOG team members were killed a few days earlier and their
personal effects had to be inventoried by an officer before they could
be sent to their families. He took me to a room with seven duffel bags
on the floor and said, “Dump the bags out one at a time and go
through the contents. Look for anything that might be classified:
maps, operational pictures or anything like that. If there is any
correspondence, read it to see if it says anything about any of the
missions. If there are pictures, take them out.” I was to sterilize their
gear. It sounded simple enough.
I picked up the first olive drab canvas duffel bag and read the
name stenciled in big white letters on the outside, 1LT Raymond C.
Stacks. I felt like I had been kicked in the groin. SOG just got real!
Ray was Bob’s and my friend at Fort Bragg. He left for Vietnam about
a month before we did. Ray had been in SOG for a month, and I was
already inventorying his personal effects to send home to his family.
Ray was a good guy, totally dedicated to Special Forces and the
United States. I had no idea he had volunteered for SOG. And now he
was dead. Killed in Action on a SOG mission in some Southeast
Asian country. Actually, it was worse than that. He and his six
teammates and four-man air crew were Missing in Action. Their
remains could not be recovered. Their helicopter was hit with anti-
aircraft fire at an altitude of 3,000 feet and after falling like a rock
into the jungle canopy below, it exploded and burned.
When you joined SOG, you disappeared into a black hole. No one
knew you were in SOG, where you were or what you were doing. No
announcements in the hometown newspaper, no articles—just gone.
Your mail went to and came from an address in Saigon where it was
screened, going and coming, for classified information. Your friends
and family assumed you were in Saigon. They had no idea that only
your mail went to and from Saigon, but you were located somewhere
else. Vietnam was just the “base” you staged your operations from to
hit targets all around Southeast Asia. If you were killed, like Ray and
his six teammates, your family would be told that you were killed or
missing in action in Vietnam. Your family would not know that you
were killed or missing in some other country.
It seemed like every day I learned more about my own
disappearance. I was moving deeper and deeper into a dark, secret
and extremely dangerous world. There was a reason we could not
talk about SOG for 20 years and I was just on the fringes of learning
the truth. And these books will only tell part of the story.
I quickly looked at the names on the other duffel bags to see if I
knew anyone else—SP5 Gary L. Matson, SSG Arthur E. Bader, Jr.,
SGT Gary R. La Bohn, SSG Michael H. Mein, SFC Klaus D. Scholz,
MAJ Samuel K. Toomey, III, SSG Richard A. Fitts.
 Before continuing I went back to SSG Jones and asked him what
these men were doing when they were killed. He said no one there
knew. It was classified top secret. Not even the FOB-1 Commander
knew.
Going through the personal effects in each bag became a very
personal and emotional task that caused a bond to form between me
and each hero, and to some degree, their families. As I laid the
contents of a bag out on the table, I put together a mosaic of each
American hero’s personal life. His wife, kids, parents, plans for the
future, dogs, family pictures of missed birthday parties, holidays,
first steps, first words, pictures the kids had drawn, how much time
he had left before going home and small talk with his wife and
parents. All the time hiding the extreme danger of his missions.
When I was going through SSG Richard Fitts’ effects I was struck
by a picture of his small two-year-old son and the conversations
about him and how much SSG Fitts missed him. I did not know why
his son had such an impact on me. But I never forgot him. Fifty-two
years later, almost to the day, I would see a Facebook post on a SOG
site by Richard Fitts, Jr., asking if anyone knew his father in SOG. I
responded and began to communicate with him. We agreed to meet
at the Special Operations Association Reunion in October 2020.
There would be no way to know at the time that the world would be
struggling with the corona virus (COVID-19) in 2020 and the
Reunion would have to be canceled.
Later it was reformatted into a virtual meeting/reunion. Rich and
I were not able to make contact there but became friends and our
friendship continues into the future. Rich also eventually produced a
movie, 21 Years and a Folded Flag, about his father and his
experience in life growing up in the SOG shadow.
Eventually, the personal effects inventory was over. I had lunch
and headed out to meet my new team.
Lessons Learned
If you can be seen, you can be hit. If you can be hit, you can be
killed.
Life is short and can end any second without warning.
We had to stay situationally aware of the surroundings.
The enemy was real. Bullets were real. Death was real.
 We had to learn how to live in the now, always on high alert.
The now drains your energy.
Death can come so quickly that some people never know they
died.
Movie night could be dangerous but watching movies could be a
good diversion from the war.

RT Alabama
My son-in-law Eric’s father is a retired Navy Captain. Randy is a big
man. He looks like he could have played football before the Navy. In
fact, Randy did play football for the University of Alabama under the
coaching of the legendary Bear Bryant. Randy understands
discipline, no quit, giving 110%, responsibility, leadership and
teamwork. I had nothing but respect for Bear Bryant and the
Crimson Tide, but I was not a fan. Sorry, Randy. That’s part of being
in the SEC. Looking back, I find it interesting that the first SOG team
I was on was RT Alabama. I don’t believe it was a coincidence.
 That afternoon I was officially assigned to RT Alabama as the 1-1
(pronounced “one-one”) assistant team leader/radio operator. I met
SSG Gentry Deck, the 1-0 or team leader, and he gave me an
overview of the team, our upcoming mission, what kind of
equipment to get from the supply room and our schedule for the next
few days. Even though I was an officer and technically outranked
SSG Deck, I was going to be second in command. No one was
allowed to lead a SOG team, regardless of rank, without experience.
You had to go out as a 1-1, 1-2 or straphanger (extra member of
the team) and learn how to lead a team until you were checked off
(certified) by your SOG 1-0. SSG Deck had to say, “Lieutenant
Thompson is cleared to be a 1-0. He can lead a team now.” That
would put me on the 1-0 list to take over the next team that was
available. I discovered that teams could go through several 1-0s in
just a matter of days. SOG had the highest casualty rate of any unit in
Vietnam. Every operational team member would be killed (KIA),
wounded (WIA) or missing in action (MIA).
A good friend of mine, Rich Todd, from Fort Bragg was assigned
to CCC. He and I had been on the same team in the SF Q Course,
attended the Infantry Officer Advanced Course (IOAC) together, and
completed lots of free-fall parachute jumps together. He wanted to
be the Commander of the Hatchet Force (HF) whose Company
Commander was killed the day before he arrived. The CCC
Commander told him it was too late; the position had been filled the
night before. He would get a different assignment. That evening at
dinner the Commander called Rich over to his table and asked him if
he still wanted to be the Company Commander. Rich replied, “I
thought that position had been filled.” The CCC Commander replied,
“It was, but it’s vacant again. You want it or not?” Rich took the
command and did an outstanding job!
Later, Rich would become the 3rd Bn Commander of the 1st
Special Forces Group when it was reactivated in 1984, and then the
1st Special Forces Group Commander in 1990. After SOG he had a
string of special warfare assignments: 1/10th Bad Tolz, 70–73, ODA-
3 HALO team leader; 5th Group S-3, 78–80. SF Department Director
SWCS, 87–88, Director of Training and Doctrine SWCS, 89–90.
After 1st Group Command USSOCOM J-3 Division Chief, he retired
from the military and spent 20 years as a contractor in Croatia, Iraq,
Thailand, Uganda, Somalia, Niger, Benin and Togo. Some people just
can’t get enough.

Mission Preparation
SSG Deck also started teaching me. “This is what I need you to do as
my assistant in preparing the team. When we go over the fence and
when the shooting starts—and know that the shooting will start—this
is what I’m looking for. This is where we’re going and we’re going to
do a wiretap,” he told me. The team had already been in mission prep
for a few days. I participated the rest of the time.
 The team consisted of SSG Deck, me, SSG Davis and seven
indigenous Vietnamese mercenaries. As RT Alabama continued
mission preparation, we took the team to the range outside the FOB-
1 compound and did simulated and live-fire immediate action drills
(IAD) to get ready for what we were going to do on the mission. It
was six days before we launched on our mission. This gave me very
little time to get to know the team and to learn all the immediate
action drills and the team’s standard operating procedures (SOPs). I
felt like I had joined a professional football team and did not know
the playbook. The interpreter, Cowboy, spoke very good English. The
others understood common words and phrases like “get down, stop,
contact right” that we used all the time, but I could not carry on a
real conversation with any of them except Cowboy. They also knew
all the hand and arm signals. Very rarely did anyone talk during a
mission before making contact with the enemy.
SSG Davis took me to the supply room and made sure I got all the
equipment I needed for the mission. I was surprised at how much it
weighed—and I didn’t have my 35 pounds of ammunition, five-day
food supply or four quarts of water yet!
Sterile
SOG teams were inserted “sterile.” That is, nothing to identify team
members with the United States. No name tags, dog tags, ID cards,
nothing. Of course, this was in violation of the Geneva Convention.
Combat troops had to carry identification. No identification meant, if
captured, you would not be afforded rights under the Geneva
Convention. You were a spy and could be executed on the spot. Going
in sterile was necessary as part of the United States’ plausible
deniability. The US would deny any knowledge of our actions or
presence in the country. We were on our own.
I was totally focused at this point because I knew this was real.
My life depended on learning everything I could. There was nothing
else on my mind.
I arranged my equipment in three “levels”: Survival, Mission
Essential and Special Equipment.
The full loadout was very heavy. For example, my LBE typically
weighed 35+ pounds and my ruck weighed around 75 pounds. My
individual survival equipment carried on my person including my
CAR-15 and pistol was another 15–20 pounds. My body weight at the
time was 140 pounds (with very low body fat), and my loadout was
approximately 125 pounds. I had arrived in Vietnam in excellent
physical condition, but my shoulders were not used to supporting
that much weight. My LBE straps and ruck straps were literally
cutting into my shoulders and rubbing them raw. As soon as I put on
all my gear, I knew I had to begin a strength and balance program
immediately, which I did that day.

Two of the guiding principles for my teams’ ruck loadouts were:

1. Things you use most often need to be easy to get to, e.g., the
radio, Claymores, ammunition and toe poppers.
 2. Blasting caps need to be separated from Claymores, frags and C-
4 and carried in a metal or wooden safety container for
protection.
The equipment the team members and I carried changed across
time as I learned what was needed for specific types of missions and
terrain. I also modified some of the equipment, e.g., I replaced the
metallic snaps on canteen covers with wooden buttons (so I could
drink water without making noise) and adjusted any other things
that might make noise pre-contact. During the Final Combat
Inspection (before the aircraft engines were running), each team
member—including me—had to jump up and down to check for
sounds. If you could be heard, you could be found. If you could be
found, the team could be killed. Our lives depended on silence.
One of my rules during combat was to get as close to the ground
as possible. My rucksack was shot up on most missions. If I had not
been close to the ground, it would have been me that was shot up.
What I carried on my LBE and person evolved across time. I used
four canteen covers with six mags each on the left side, one cover
with five frags on my right side, a canteen in back, med kit, and
sometimes WP and smoke on the front of my belt. One or two
combat bandages in front, a black snap link on right shoulder for
CAR-15 sling, a can of Ringer’s solution on the back of the harness
behind my neck, strobe light on my left shoulder, a frag under it, and
sometimes a smoke. I also carried a coiled 12-foot nylon rope on a
black snap link that could be used for constructing a Swiss seat, etc.
I wore a level of survival gear on my person, as follows: a 4-
magazine (20 rounds each) bandoleer, KA-BAR knife (with a survival
handle I made) on a belt; compass (on lanyard) in my front left pants
pocket; map in left cargo pocket; demo knife in right pants pocket;
small notebook and pen and pen light with red lens in left sleeve
pocket; pen flare gun and flares in right sleeve pocket; URC-10
survival radio in left shirt pocket (over heart, with lanyard); one LRP
meal in right cargo pocket with water added; M-17 protective mask
on left leg; bloused boots with black electrical tape around top;
sleeves down with tape around cuffs; an OD triangular bandage
(Rambo rag) around neck; black electrical tape on muzzle of CAR-15;
black leather issue gloves with fingers cut off at first knuckle; watch
under my sleeve; and other equipment as needed. This would
become the Standard Operating Procedure (SOP) for where standard
equipment was carried. If we needed to retrieve something off
someone—even in the dark during the heat of combat—we knew
where to look.
The M-16 had a bad reputation in Vietnam for jamming a lot,
especially with full magazines. By association that reputation was
passed on to the CAR-15. Everyone I knew only loaded 17–18 rounds
in their magazines. I loaded mine full, but only used new magazines
that had been loaded within three days or less. I fired 500–800
rounds on most missions and never had a malfunction. I carried an
extended cleaning rod attached to my CAR-15 just in case I had a
round or casing hang in the weapon. I gave my team members the
option to use full magazines or not.
On my first few missions I carried Long Range Patrol Rations
(LRPs) for food. The food was okay, but it was noisy and required a
lot of water (it was dehydrated).
LRP Entrees Included
Menu #1 Beef Hash
Menu #2 Chili con Carne
Menu #3 Spaghetti with Meat Sauce
Menu #4 Beef with Rice
Menu #5 Chicken Stew
Menu #6 Pork with Scalloped Potatoes
Menu #7 Beef Stew
Menu #8 Chicken with Rice
Later, I changed to the indigenous PIR ration. It was less noisy to
open and easier to eat.
Weather was a major consideration for our missions. If we got in
trouble when we were across the fence (border) and had bad
weather, no one would be coming to help get us out. CCN, CCC and
CCS had their own Air Force meteorologist who tracked the weather
and gave briefings several times a day to the command group. The
teams would get a weather briefing before launch so they would
know what weather to expect. Teams didn’t launch on the mission
unless the weather looked like it was going to be good for a few days.
We did not want to get on the ground and all of a sudden not be able
to use the air assets available to the team. Operators soon discovered
that the best weather predictions were the ones made the day after.
The meteorologists were much more accurate in hindsight.
Most of the time CCN teams were inserted into the mountains of
northern Laos, the DMZ or North Vietnam. These were mostly rain
forests, so we knew it was going to rain every day. When it rained,
the clouds would roll right down on top of the mountains and totally
conceal the ridgelines. Not only were you under double and triple
canopy jungle, but when it rained, a thick cloud cover formed over
the canopy. The cloud cover could make it impossible for the air
assets to pinpoint our location. Even when we fired flares up through
the canopy, the clouds covered them.
Duty Officer Shootout
I found myself on the Duty Officer roster the second day that I was at
FOB-1. I was briefed that it was a Sunday evening/night and
everything would be very quiet. If anything came up, all the answers
were in the Duty Officer’s three-ring binder. That comment should
have been a red flag, but I guess I missed it. The Duty Officer was
required to “inspect the compound” and log the times he visited
certain locations, e.g., the ammunition bunker. This inspection had
to be done several times during the night. It was time to make my
first inspection.
I walked out of the orderly room onto the company street. About
40 yards in front of me was the compound gate. A three-quarter-ton-
truck carrying a team returning from the firing range was waiting for
the gates to be unlocked and opened so they could come in. A small
South Vietnamese Army compound shared a fence on one side. I was
aware that a Yard team was coming in and I could hear yelling. Then,
Holy M-60, Batman! A Yard with an M-60 machine gun had opened
fire toward the ARVN (Army of the Republic of Vietnam) compound,
but the angle caused the bullets to be coming at me. The first one hit
the corner of the orderly room about two feet from me and the others
stitched across the side of the orderly room.
I hit the ground as the ARVN returned fire. I began yelling “Cease
fire!” as loudly as I could. The team leader and several other people
on that end of the compound were yelling as well. The Yard stopped
shooting and things quieted down. As I stood up and started toward
the gate, the FOB commander came out and yelled a few choice
words. I learned that the Yards really did not like Vietnamese, and
vice versa. We had to keep them separated in the compound. It was
another exciting learning day in SOG.
Lessons Learned
If you could be heard, you could be found. If you could be found,
the team could be killed.
The mission loadout (equipment, ammunition, etc.) was VERY
heavy (80–100 pounds).
The Vietnamese and Yards had a strong, deadly dislike for each
other.
I had a lot to learn (the enemy, tactics, SOPs, processes, team
communication, immediate action drills, field trauma
procedures, loadout, etc.) and very little time to learn before my
first mission.
I was the FNG (effing new guy) but had a lot of responsibility on
the mission.
I discovered that our “little people” were harder than
woodpecker lips.
Looking back, I find it interesting that RT Alabama was the first
SOG team I was on. I don’t believe it was a coincidence.

RT Alabama Mission 1: Wire Tap SOG #1 (6 DEC 68)

Mission 1 Team Roster
Deck 1-0
Thompson 1-1
Davis 1-2
Cowboy Interpreter
Hoa Pointman
Du M-79
Quang Tail gunner
My first mission with RT Alabama was to conduct a wiretap on a
communication line running along a road being used as a supply
route for North Vietnamese supplies through Laos into South
Vietnam.
In addition to sending us on a wiretap mission, CCN was testing
the optimal time to put a team on the ground. Should a team be
inserted at first light so they could get away from the LZ quickly? The
NVA would figure out that an RT had been inserted and come
looking for the team. Or was the optimal insertion time to go in at
last light so the team could get off the LZ, set up in a remain-
overnight position (RON) and then head out at first light? If the NVA
or trackers were coming after the RT they would have to do it in the
dark. RT Alabama had been selected to be inserted at last light.
Travel to Launch Site at Quang Tri
It had been a full six days and nights of training for me with the
team. Now the time had come to execute the mission. I was a little
more than excited about my first SOG mission and first time in
combat. This was what I had been waiting for. The excitement about
the next day’s mission caused me to wake up a few times during the
night, but overall, I had a good night’s sleep. At this point I did not
fully comprehend what it would be like.
Right after breakfast we did a full equipment check to make sure
everyone had everything they were supposed to have for the mission,
then rehearsals for IADs, RON, etc. We had an early lunch and flew
to the launch site at Quang Tri. This location put our launch site and
launch activities much closer to the Laos-South Vietnam border, the
DMZ and North Vietnam.
Once at the launch site the team was allowed to relax while Deck
and I met with the launch site commander and operations NCO
about enemy activity and weather in the area. We verified mission
radio frequencies, codes and call signs, then returned to the team.
 About 45 minutes prior to launch, Deck and I attended the Final
Mission Brief (FMB) with all the key players: launch site personnel,
lift ship pilots, backup lift ship pilots, gunship pilots, Air Force A-1
Skyraiders and F-4 liaisons, Forward Air Controller and Covey rider
(an experienced SOG team 1-0) by radio, meteorologist and medics.
This was the final briefing to make sure everything was in place, that
every asset knew their role in different situations that might develop
during the insertion and were aware of the AAA (anti-aircraft
artillery) threat enroute and at the site. It was a lot of information!
A SOG mission was not just hop on a helicopter, fly 30 minutes to
a site, shoot some bad guys and fly back. It was very complicated
with a lot of moving parts. All of these assets were totally focused on
getting the team inserted into the area of operation, supporting it
while it accomplished its mission and getting the team back out as
safely as possible. I was quite impressed.
We were using what I found to be our standard FOB-1 mission
package for our insertions and extractions.
Airborne Battlefield Command and Control Center
(ABCCC). This was an EC-130E aircraft that provided a tactical
airborne command post that orbited very high above the SOG
team’s AO. It monitored all radio communications and provided
SOG teams 24/7 radio contact. The daytime call sign was
Hillsboro and nighttime was Moonbeam.
FAC/Covey was an Air Force Forward Air Controller that flew
into the team’s AO with a Covey rider on board. The FAC could
talk to and control Air Force assets (A-1 Skyraiders & F-4
Phantom jets) and Covey provided control of Army, Marine and
ARVN assets and communicated directly with the SOG team.
The Covey rider drew on his extensive ground experience to
provide recommendations and calming words to teams—
especially during a Prairie Fire Emergency. Covey was the
team’s lifeline, without which the team would probably not
survive.
An F-4 Phantom was a two-seat, twin-engine, all-weather,
long-range supersonic jet interceptor and fighter-bomber (often
called “fast movers”). The F-4s provided Combat Air Patrol
missions when operating close to the North Vietnam border to
ward off NVA MiGs and maintain air superiority. They also
provided bomber support to teams in contact or to attack
ground targets.
A-1 Skyraider (sometimes called Spad or Sandy) was a single-
seat, propeller-driven attack aircraft that was used between the
late1940s and early 1980s. The A-1 could carry a very heavy load
of a variety of ordnance, fly low and slow, and provide very
accurate close air support.
AH-1 Cobra attack helicopters could carry mini-guns (firing
4,000 rounds per minute), a 40mm grenade launcher (firing up
to 250 rounds per minute) and up to 48, 2.75-inch rockets with
17-pound high explosive warheads. They provided exceptionally
effective close air support.
Lift Ships consisted of CH-34 Kingbees flown by the 219th
Squadron, Vietnamese Air Force (VNAF) or UH-1C/D Army
helicopters. Two sets of lift ships were involved in the insertions
and extractions. One set of aircraft carried the team to the
insertion Landing Zone (LZ) and from the extraction LZ. A
second set of lift ships flew empty as “chase” aircraft prepared to
pick up crew and team members of aircraft that went down
during the mission.
 When the final mission briefing was over, it was time to make one
last trip to the latrine, gear-up, do a quick team meeting, go to our
aircraft and get ready to board. By the time I got to the helicopter, I
had the urge to pee again, but it was too late. I would have to hold it.
Stress does that to you. But it was too late to go again. My education
on the physiological and psychological effects of stress was just
beginning— and I had a lot to learn. I had two near-death
experiences before the Army but had never experienced this level of
stress and the things your body and mind do that are beyond your
wildest imagination.
We were using a small team and would all be on one UH-1D
aircraft. Deck and Cowboy (the interpreter) would be in the door on
the left side and Davis and I would be in the right door. The three
remaining “little guys” (Hoa, Quang and Du) would be in the center
of the helicopter. Du (M-79 gunner) would follow Cowboy and Deck
out. Hoa (pointman) and Quang (tail gunner) would follow Davis
and me out. Deck, Cowboy, Davis and I would climb out on the skids
as we started to approach the LZ.
While Deck was briefing the team, I could hear the insertion
aircraft engines starting to make their high-pitched whine as their
rotors began to spin up. The smell of JP-4 burning in the engines was
in the air. The noise level was rapidly increasing. Sand and dust were
filling the air. The team was standing by the UH-1D insertion
helicopter waiting on Deck’s signal to “lock and load” (put a round in
the chamber and make sure the safety was on so we wouldn’t shoot
our own helicopter down) and board the aircraft. The adrenaline and
cortisol levels were beginning to climb. Deck gave the thumbs up and
we boarded the helicopter. There were no seats in the aircraft cargo
compartment (except for the door gunners) but there were a few
straps on the floor of the aircraft and the doors were locked open.
The Flight Out
As the UH-1Ds started to wind up, I could also hear the high-pitched
whine of the Cobras revving up about 200 meters from us. The
launch site became very noisy, and the smell of JP-4 (jet fuel burned
in the helicopter engines) was strong. The excitement was building as
the noise kept increasing. My heart rate was steadily increasing. My
mouth was getting dry. This was exhilarating! We had gone over this
part of the mission many times, but it’s different when you are sitting
in the middle of the multidimensional event with all the sights,
sounds, smells, tastes, adrenaline, cortisol, butterflies in the
stomach, a vibrating aircraft and starting to lift off the ground for
your first SOG mission.
And here we go! My first combat mission had started. I said a
quick prayer. Davis and I were sitting on the floor with our legs
hanging out from the knees down. As the helicopter increased speed,
the fast- moving air pushed our feet and legs toward the rear of the
aircraft. I was taking it all in, like a dog with my head hanging out the
car window.
About 20 minutes into the flight, I saw the river that marked the
South Vietnam–Laos border fast approaching. A voice in the back of
my head started saying, It’s okay to shoot these people. They are the
enemy. My job is to terminate them, over and over. Suddenly, I
heard the door gunners open fire with their M-60 machine guns! I
thought, Holy crap! Are we already under attack? Then I
remembered they planned to test fire their guns once we were over
bad guy country. As I was getting my heart settled back down, I
heard the song “Amazing Grace” playing in the back of my head.
Songs were always in tune in my head. It was when they came out of
my mouth that there was a problem. This song had a calming effect
and would become my battle song for future combat.
As we were flying along, I was enjoying the relatively cool air
blowing on me, playing out all the things I had to do during the
insertion, reminding myself it was okay to shoot the bad guys and
keeping my anxiety under control. We had climbed to 3,000 feet
above ground level (AGL) to avoid the small arms fire that came up
at us every few minutes. Some of the bullets were close enough that I
could hear the “crack” as they went by. The sun was getting low. The
light was starting to fade. Deck gave the team a ten-minute warning.
Another surge of adrenaline. We were just about there. I saw the
Cobras slowly coming up next to us and easing on by us headed for
the LZ. Things were about to get exciting. Another quick prayer. I
continued to run through what I was supposed to do during the
insertion. My right hand gripped my CAR-15 tighter. My thumb was
on the safety/rate of fire selector switch.
Insertion
I saw the Crew Chief lean over and say something to SSG Deck. Deck
turned and gave the team a thumbs up, meaning we were going to
start our descent in 30 seconds! I could feel the next surge of
adrenaline and the accompanying increased heart rate. Conceptually,
I understood what was about to happen, but I didn’t know the reality
of what it was going to be like. I discovered that this happens a lot in
war. You are always discovering new realities.
Suddenly, the helicopter banked almost 90 degrees to my side,
started autorotation (the rotor was turning, but not grabbing the air)
and the floor fell out from under me! To say I was not quite prepared
for this would be a huge understatement. I was initially just hanging
out there in the air, holding on to the side of the aircraft with one
hand, looking down 3,000 feet to the ground and thinking, This is
not good. My stomach was up in my throat. It was like a thrill-ride at
the fair, except this was for real. I was trying to hang on and stay with
the aircraft as we spiraled downward toward the jungle canopy.
Eventually, the pilot got the aircraft to where he wanted to pull out of
the spiral and make his short-final approach to the LZ. He put the
power back on, and we experienced strong g-forces as the aircraft
began to vibrate violently and started slowing down fast.
When we came out of the spiral, we were on the short-final to the
LZ. It was on a ridgeline where the Air Force had dropped a daisy-
cutter, a 2,000-pound bomb, to blow a hole in the jungle canopy just
big enough that we could land the helicopter down through the hole.
As we approached the LZ on short final, I saw what appeared to be a
hole in the solid jungle canopy. Must be the LZ, I thought to myself.
We were slowly flying over a small pond on the ridgeline when I saw
what appeared to be eight to ten hooches off to the east side of the
ridge in a little valley. Must be a small village, I thought. I didn’t
remember that being in our mission briefing. Something was not
right. Davis and I climbed out on the skid of the helicopter. Quang
and Hoa were pushed up against us ready to jump out. Deck and
Cowboy were climbing out on the other side, and Du was pushed up
against them. We were going very slowly, and I felt like a sitting
target. An NVA soldier could have thrown a rock and knocked me off
the skid at any time.
We were slowly approaching the insertion hole flying with the
skids dragging across the jungle canopy. The hole looked small. The
aircraft vibrated as we literally dropped straight down into the bomb
crater. The pilot was trying not to clip trees as we were setting down.
It was just getting dark. Davis and I were on the skid. We rapidly
scanned the jungle around the crater, but it was too dark and the
vegetation was too thick to see into the jungle. Our descent stopped.
We were still about six feet above the crater floor and were going to
have to jump into the bomb crater. I thought it was a long jump
carrying 95 pounds of weight! I knew I had to just suck it up and
jump.
Davis and I bent our knees to jump, and just as we did, I saw an
NVA soldier pop up on my right about ten feet off to the side with an
AK-47 pointing at me! Instantly, instead of jumping, I pushed up and
back on the edge of the helicopter floor. Just as I jumped up, the
soldier opened fire with his AK-47. The bullets came right across
where my legs had been a half second before and hit Davis in the
legs. He screamed and yelled, “I’m hit! I’m hit! Help!” as his legs
collapsed and he started to fall. The fire ball coming out of the AK-47
barrel was blinding and the sound deafening. Simultaneously, the
whole jungle lit up all around us and made an unbelievably loud roar
as 20–30 NVA opened fire on automatic at once. I grabbed the back
of Davis’ LBE harness with my left hand and used my right hand to
put half a magazine (10 rounds) on full auto into the NVA soldier
who was less than ten feet away. The impact of the rounds ripped
him apart and blood splattered on me as he went down.
Aided by adrenaline and cortisol, I managed to jerk Davis up onto
the floor of the helicopter. Blood was going everywhere. Then I saw
muzzle flashes right in front of me. There was nothing but air
between me and the NVA who were shooting at me from 20–30 feet
away. I was totally exposed! I could be seen! I could be hit! I could be
killed!
Everyone in the aircraft was returning fire. The two door gunners
with their M-60 machine guns (550 rounds per minute each gun)
and the team members, two of whom were using me as cover and one
firing on each side of my head (at 800 rounds a minute each). Their
CAR-15 muzzles were so close I was getting powder burns from the
muzzle flashes. My ears began to go numb, and I knew I was losing
my hearing. Hot brass was going all over me and the floor of the
helicopter, and the floor on my side was covered with blood that was
getting deeper. Hundreds of bullets were coming at us traveling
faster than the speed of sound. I heard them crack as they passed
through the cargo compartment or by the helicopter. Some were
green tracers—I could actually see them coming out of the dark
jungle vegetation and trees. I tried to lean back to present a smaller
target. I heard the metallic clangs of bullets hitting the helicopter.
Crap! We were going down!
Davis was in pain, rolling on the floor and screaming. Blood
continued to run out on the floor. I put the other half of the magazine
into the muzzle flashes coming from a tree directly in front of me and
saw the NVA soldier fall out and hit the ground hard. I heard myself
say, “That’s two!” Now my magazine was empty.
We were in a full-fledged ambush now all the way around us. Our
two Cobra gunships had opened fire with their miniguns, each firing
4,000 rounds a minute. It looked like two hoses were spraying red
water all around us. Every fifth bullet was a tracer, but when they
were coming that fast, all I could see was red. The bullets were
ricocheting off the trees, rocks and the ground. “Friendly” bullets
were going in all directions! The helicopter vibrated violently as the
pilot tried to lift us out of the bomb crater. He had not planned to lift
off with all of us still on board.
Some of the bullets were hitting trees and limbs were flying off,
and some of the trees were falling. Rocks were being hit sending
fragments flying. Everything was so loud! The second set of Cobras
followed right behind the first two firing miniguns (4,000
rounds/minute) and 40mm grenades (at 250 per minute per Cobra).
Explosions went off all around us. The air was full of shrapnel,
smoke, the smell of gun powder and burned JP-4.
The team was shooting, the door gunners were shooting, the
Cobras were shooting, and the NVA were shooting, determined to
take our helicopter down. I was having trouble getting the magazine
out of my pouch. It appeared to be stuck and my fingers were slick
with all the blood on them. I finally got a magazine out, then had
trouble getting it in the magazine well of my CAR-15. I could see
hundreds and hundreds of bullets and green NVA tracers coming at
the aircraft. I realized that the stress level had caused me to lose
most of my fine motor skills, and bullets were still coming at me.
I got the magazine in and re-engaged the enemy. I had a
conversation going on in the back of my head while I kept shooting: I
am not happy. This is my first mission, and I’m going to die in the
first 15 seconds! I’ve spent two years training for this. What kind of
deal is this? I came over here to do something! This is crazy!
I got another magazine out of the pouch and into my CAR-15. I
shot at the muzzle flashes in front of me. They would go out after I
put a four or five-round burst on them, and I saw some NVA fall
from trees. My magazines were coming out of the pouch and into my
CAR- 15 much easier now, and I racked up more kills.
I saw tracers and heard screams coming out of the jungle from
the wounded and dying NVA. Then, suddenly, a blast wave followed
by a loud “Boom!” came across us and almost knocked the helicopter
into the trees. It was followed by several more with less intensity. All
of us in the helicopter were temporarily stunned from the concussion
and deafened by the loud explosions. The hooches I had seen on the
other side of the ridgeline turned out to be tanks camouflaged with
straw, and the A-1 Skyraiders were dropping 250-pound bombs on
them. This added significantly to the noise and chaos. The A-1s were
also receiving anti-aircraft fire—and they engaged those positions
too.
Our helicopter started to vibrate violently because the pilot was
trying to climb out of that little hole in the jungle canopy. At least we
were trying to start up, but the helicopter was still taking hits and the
Cobras were making more runs.
Finally, we actually lifted out of the bomb crater. As we did, the
NVA shifted their fire, following us as we went up. I was learning that
the NVA were an incredibly determined enemy. They would not quit!
I saw a smoke grenade in the crater spewing red smoke. The red
smoke meant there were no good guys left on the LZ. All aircraft
were cleared “hot” for the LZ as we pulled away from the opening in
the canopy. The NVA fire stopped because the Cobras blasted the
whole ambush site with rockets (with 17-pound high explosive
warheads), miniguns and 40mm grenades. The A-1s came in with the
big stuff as the Cobras finished their last run. It was an amazing
fireworks show. They destroyed the whole area to include six tanks.
As we started to fly away, I looked across at SSG Deck sitting on
the other side. He looked across at me with a big grin on his face and
gave me an enthusiastic thumbs up. I thought to myself, Look at this
guy! He is so excited. He thought that was the coolest thing! But
man, they almost got us all!
 It was my first time to experience a level of fear that I didn’t know
existed. Many times, I had tried to imagine what it would be like
when people started shooting at me. Of course, I knew I would be a
little anxious, but I had no clue. Until I experienced it, there was no
way I could even imagine a level of fear like that. Fortunately, I was
able to manage the fear so I could still shoot. I did not let the fear
stop me from returning fire and doing what I had to do, but it scared
me. Having those two weapons right next to my head was brutal. I
could tell that my high frequency hearing was steadily going away
permanently, and I was burned from the muzzle flashes. You could
get hurt in a lot of ways besides getting hit with bullets.
I had killed at least two NVA in the first 20 seconds—the guy
down below and the first guy in the tree—I knew I took those two out
and I had hit and killed several other NVA. I saved my first
American’s life. If Davis had fallen in the crater, he would have been
gone. A second later and we would have both jumped in that crater
and been gone. That was bad tactics on the NVA’s part. If they had
held off two or three more seconds, they could have gotten all of us
and the helicopter. I earned my Combat Infantryman Badge with
that action. A whole series of firsts occurred for me during that
firefight.
A couple of minutes later, as I worked on Davis’ legs, I thought
about how glad I was that we got out of there. Then I looked down.
Several streams of green .51 caliber tracers were coming up at us.
Another group of NVA were trying to hit the helicopter! The tracers
were bright in the darkness. Fortunately, they did not hit us. I
realized that the mission was not over until you got back to FOB-1. I
guessed that’s why I had heard people at FOB-1 saying, “Phu Bai is
alright!”
I told the door gunner to tell the pilot that we had to go straight to
the hospital and drop Davis off. He needed medical attention right
away. We dropped him off and flew back to the launch site to drop
the team off.
Before we went into the debriefing area at the launch site, I asked
SSG Deck, “I’m just curious . . . how many magazines did you empty
when we were in the crater?” He said, “I emptied five, and was
working on number six. I threw two frag grenades and a smoke
grenade.” Then he looked at me and said, “Lieutenant, you need to
practice so you get faster at reloading when people are shooting at
you or you’re going to die.” I agreed and said, “Roger that!”
The Quick Kill training I had at Fort Bragg really paid off during
the ambush. There was no way I could have aimed from the position
I was in.
That’s part of the problem with training; you train to get a good
sight picture, sight alignment, squeeze the trigger and hit the target
that’s not shooting back at you. Then you get in a firefight like this
one and your stress level skyrockets. You trained to use those sights,
and suddenly your vision changes as the stress goes up and you can’t
see the sights. You can’t do it the way you trained. You can’t reload
the way you trained. Stress changes everything.
The debriefing shocked me. It was loaded with questions I had no
idea I was going to be asked or had been trained to do. What was the
NVA soldier wearing, in detail, that popped up and shot Davis? Did
he come from the tree line? Pop up out of a spider hole? How many
rounds did he fire? How many of my rounds hit him? How many
rounds total did the NVA (all of them) fire at the helicopter? How tall
were the trees around the bomb crater? What kind of trees were
they? They continued asking for very detailed responses about
everything. I finally said, “I don’t know the answers to most of your
questions. I was busy shooting and killing the enemy, pulling Davis
in the helicopter, shooting the enemy, and staying alive by shooting
the enemy. Next time I’ll stop shooting and take notes about the trees
and count the bullets as they come by me!” That did not go over well.
CPT Washburn said SSG Willis was trying to do a debriefing and did
not need smart ass answers. Deck intervened and started answering
most of the questions. I made an effort to cooperate more. From that
mission forward I carried a notebook to record details about
vegetation, trees, soil type, temperature, rainfall, etc.
We flew back to Phu Bai the following day. I was talking to my
roommate, Captain Smith, about what had happened, critiquing
what we should have done before and what we should have done
during the firefight. What did we do there? Were we prepared for an
ambush like that? Was there anything else we could have done? I was
thinking through our preparation, through what we actually did,
what we could do differently next time.
My mindset was: Every time you do something, you need to be
better than the last time you did it. To do that you have to practice,
practice, practice. You need to understand that you will always have
to adapt from your original plan. You have to have contingencies.
Whatever you plan, you’ll have to adapt. War is not predictable. The
only predictability is that the plan will have to be adapted. And you
have to be able to adapt on the fly.
Unfortunately, later that evening I shared some of my critique
with the FOB-1 Commander. He was excited and said, “I told you we
could get you out. If we put you out there, we will get you out. You
saw how that worked, right?” I said, “Yeah, I saw how it worked. Let
me share some thoughts with you, Sir.”
Sequencing is important. If you are going to talk to your boss
about how ugly his baby is, make sure you talk to your boss BEFORE
you talk to Jack Daniels! Unfortunately, I probably had talked to Mr.
Jack Daniels too much before that conversation, and I shared too
many of my thoughts. People don’t always want to hear someone tell
them their baby is ugly. Especially a newbie. He wasn’t exactly happy
with some of the things I had to say because it reflected on him too. I
still think most of my thoughts were correct, of course. For example,
if you drop one daisy-cutter bomb out there on a ridgeline, you might
as well put up a flag that says, “Hey, we’re coming here soon. Get
ready for us.” He really didn’t appreciate that comment.
After that mission, I never thought I would see my 22nd or 23rd
birthdays. There was no way to survive five more missions. I also
realized that being a Special Ops operator was a mindset. Only
people with a certain mindset could do that job. If you didn’t have it,
you’d better develop what you had to the max, or you wouldn’t make
it—and you may get other operators killed. There was a reason they
gave you an honorable out after six missions if you wanted/needed it.
In reality, the 1-0 could remove you from the team before six
missions. My attitude was that the NVA might get me, but they were
going to pay a heavy price for me. I would take as many of them with
me as I could! I would be really upset if they knocked me off with a
lucky first round hit, like I heard happened so frequently. They had
better get me quick, because I was going after them with everything I
had. I know this sounds cocky, but that was the way my mind
worked.
I learned a lot in the Green Beret Lounge between missions. I
tried to pick the brains of the older, more experienced 1-0s. SFC
Johnson, one of the NCO 1-0s I talked to a lot told me one night in
the lounge, “When you see an NVA, you can’t hesitate, Lieutenant!
There is no time for hesitation. You’ve got to understand this,
Lieutenant! Where we go, everyone is the enemy. I mean everyone!
You don’t have to worry about shooting a friendly by mistake.
They’re all the enemy! You have to understand this if you want to
have any chance to live.”

He chugged the rest of his drink, told the barmaid to pour him
another one, and said, “And the person who shoots first has the best
chance of surviving. Pull the trigger. And never, ever shoot the
%#$&* less than three or four times! If he is still moving, you shoot
him three or four more times. Make sure he is really dead, then move
to the next #@&^. You make sure they go down hard and stay down.
You can’t imagine how many of us have been wounded or killed by
dead NVA!” I heard this same advice from a lot of experienced,
battle-hardened warriors.
This was the strategy I adopted and practiced: I trained to go
from the safety position on the selector switch, past fire to fully
automatic faster than most people could pull the trigger with the
safety already off. I practiced that over and over. I used to practice it
going down to the ground. I also discovered that as soon as an AK-47
started firing, the barrel would rise. If they didn’t hit you with that
first or second round and you could get down, you had a chance to
survive. I used to practice shooting at silhouettes on the way down
with the goal of putting holes in all five silhouettes before I got to the
ground. As I was dropping, I would empty a 20-round magazine in
1.4 seconds so that I would have multiple holes in all five targets and
be reloading. I practiced this and other techniques, over and over
and over. I realized the truth of what Deck had said, “Practice or die!”
I did my own After-Action Review (AAR) when I got back to FOB-
1. I made a list of things I thought about once we returned from the
mission.
Some Firsts
Time in combat.
Being ambushed.
Enemy kills.
Unbelievable fear—adrenaline and cortisol so high I couldn’t
breathe, but I could shoot. In the back of my head, I thought I
was going to die on my first mission. Not happy about that.
To have that many bullets coming at me from every direction
and not get hit.
Saved an American teammate’s life.
Blood and hot brass everywhere.
High frequency hearing loss—a lot temporary and some
permanent.
Powder burns on my face.
Earned my Combat Infantryman Badge.
Discovered firsthand what stress does to fine motor
coordination.

Lessons Learned
Mission Prep
Needed a Visual Recon.
There was limited training for the “new guy” on team.
Not enough range time/practice/rehearsal.
Failed to plan adequately for an ambush.
Incomplete training/practice/rehearsal.
Not enough “teaching” going on before mission.
Needed more range time (I was using a new weapon system).
Needed Immediate Action Drill practice in an actual jungle.
I needed more practice reloading under fire or I was going to
die.
Practice, practice, practice!

Launch Site
Great final mission brief with all assets.
I should have been ready for M-60 test fire.
Left late, long ride to insertion site, got there behind schedule
(light).

Insertion
Very difficult to get in and out of crater in a fully loaded aircraft.
Getting dark—raised risk of rotor strike.

Ambush
Triggered 5–10 seconds too early by the NVA soldier in the
crater who tried to shoot me. The NVA made a mistake. Was
their fear level high too?
Enemy was not prepared for volume of fire from Cobras, the
team and door gunners.
Took too long to lift out of crater (pilot was stunned— had not
been engaged this close or with this volume of fire before).
Very difficult to lift straight up out of crater fully loaded—
needed to have used two AC (split the weight).
Helicopter was taking hits while we were in crater.
Difficulty keeping wounded American teammate from falling out
of helicopter.
I was too busy shooting to stop Davis’ bleeding initially.
 The volume of hot brass flying through the air and helicopter
floor was an issue.
The amount of blood on the floor was an issue—my hand and
fingers were slick.
Team members using Americans for cover was an issue (hearing
loss and powder burns).
Crew chief and door gunner too busy returning fire to watch
rotor clearance.
Initially, team not communicating with crew.

Additional Lessons Learned

Whatever I plan, I will have to adapt. War was not predictable.
The only predictability was that the plan will have to be adapted.
And I have to be able to adapt on the fly.
The enemy does not normally get a seat at the mission planning
table: thus, they don’t know how they are supposed to act during
the mission—they tend to mess things up.
I must control/manage my fear.
Luck always plays a role in combat.
Don’t stop shooting. A very high volume of return fire is your
best chance of survival.
Focus on the immediate situation—too late to ask who was
supposed to drain the swamp when up to your armpits in
alligators!
Must be able to do everything in the dark and under fire.
Speed of execution and accuracy are critical.
Know your people, their weapons and actions under fire when
you select how to distribute them.
Know how the enemy will react to your presence and actions.
Mindset is critical to success.
Timing is everything.
You are part of a team.
Practice, practice and more practice!
I must get better every time I do something.
 I need to fix my magazines so they are easy to retrieve even
under stress and with a bloody hand—attach a cord loop on
middle one?

Leadership Lessons
Never underestimate luck (good or bad).
I am not as good as I think I am.
I can get injured a lot of ways besides getting hit with a bullet.
Nothing will go as planned. I have to be ready to adapt and
overcome on the fly.
Stress changes everything.
Never forget that I did it as part of a team.
I can always do more than I think I can.
Success and failure come from mindset and execution.
If I am doing my job as a leader, I am going to get hit.
Communication is my lifeline.
Know my people.
Know my enemy.
Timing is everything—down to a fraction of a second.
Everyone must know the 1-0/commander’s intent.
Sometimes everyone must perform on their own.
Every time you do something, you need to be better than the last
time you did it. To do that you have to practice, practice,
practice.
Combat is VERY LOUD!
I am not out of danger until I get back to the FOB, hence the
saying, “Phu Bai is alright.”
I was upset in my first debriefing about the detailed questions I
was asked. Then I had a blinding flash of insight: The volume of
fire, type of weapons, how they are firing (semi, bursts or auto),
etc., can tell me a lot about the force I’m up against and how to
respond. I continued to learn this across missions.
Exposure and experience prepare me for more complex
learning. It’s difficult to learn calculus before learning basic
math.
 Knowledge and learning occur in layers.
Never talk to Jack Daniels before giving your boss feedback
about how ugly his baby is.

Hatchet Platoon Assignment

A few days after returning from the mission with RT Alabama I was
assigned as a Platoon Leader for one of our Montagnard Hatchet
platoons. In addition to being the RT Alabama 1-1, I also began
training with my Hatchet platoon. I found this to be quite an
experience. My time with the platoon was brief because of my
missions with RT Alabama.
RT Alabama began training harder and in more depth than
before. Davis’ leg wounds were so severe that he was evacuated back
to the States. We picked up a replacement for Davis. His name was
Doug Jones—the new FNG. He was relatively new and had to learn a
lot about how our team conducted operations. A lot of our training
was focused on getting him ready for our next mission.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 5
Into the Darkness

In the darkest times, that’s where you will find your greatest
strength.
—Author Unknown

Almost 50 years after the events in this book, my 8-year-old

granddaughter, Shiloh Brown, will finish her picture and proudly
show it to me. I will ask her what the black part of the picture is, and
she will reply, “That’s darkness. It’s spreading around over the things
in the garden.” She will describe darkness as a physical thing that
spreads and oozes around, slowly covering everything. That’s what
darkness in the jungle feels like—a dark liquid that slowly covers
everything.

RT Alabama Mission 2: Search and Destroy SOG #2 (13

DEC 68)
Mission 2 Team Roster
Deck 1-0
Thompson 1-1
Jones 1-2
Cowboy Interpreter
Hoa Pointman
Du M-79
Quang Tail gunner
Quan Alternate point
RT Alabama’s next mission was to find and destroy a battalion-sized
NVA element moving south through Northern Laos to South
Vietnam. Our eight-man RT would be looking for 500 NVA soldiers!
If our intelligence guys could put us on the ground relatively close to
them, it should be pretty easy to find a group that size. One problem
might be staying alive long enough to put enough fire power on them
to destroy them and still be able to escape. Not having done this
before, it sounded to me like it might be a challenge. I was excited
that I was going to learn how to do this successfully.
We started mission preparation: getting intelligence and weather
briefings, studying maps of the areas, identifying possible insertion
and extraction points, and reviewing other critical parts of the
mission. An insertion date was selected. Our operations people
began to put together the mission package—all the supporting
elements that would be involved in getting us in, supporting us on
the ground and getting us out. I was fascinated by all the moving
parts. As a team, we began training for and rehearsing all the critical
actions we would have to take. We practiced immediate action drills,
forming a security perimeter, putting out Claymore mines (in layers),
rest schedule, how to wake up team members when it was their time
for security or if they were snoring, or if there was movement around
us. Some of the procedures may seem simple, but when you are
hundreds of miles from the closest friendly, with hundreds of enemy
soldiers all around you, the fear factor is high, and nothing is simple
or easy.
I talked to everyone I could find who had experience with
“trackers” while on missions. I learned the various techniques used
by individual and multiple trackers (signaling by “clacking” pieces of
bamboo), dogs, and trackers that would herd you toward an ambush
or away from LZs. I also learned how to know they were following
you and techniques such as M-14 mines (affectionately called “toe
poppers”) to end their tracking careers. All the work I had done
tracking animals during my childhood became very valuable and
would save our lives on numerous occasions. I knew exactly where to
put a toe popper to take a tracker’s leg off; he would eventually bleed
out and die. I had been training since I was a kid to read tracks on
the ground and in vegetation to determine:
The number of enemy
Direction they were moving
How fast they were moving
If they were carrying a heavy load
How old the tracks were
If they were trying to cover their trail
If they had dogs
I learned how to deal with dogs using CS powder (military grade
tear gas combined with black pepper) and a .22 pistol with integrated
silencer. (Yes, dogs were the enemy.) Occasionally, a dog would set
off a toe popper by stepping on the mine or trying to dig it up. I
learned how to put out frag grenades with trip wires, and on special
occasions, how to replace the standard frag grenade fuse (4.5-second
delay) with a smoke grenade fuse (0-second delay) with a blasting
cap crimped on it so the grenade would detonate instantly. The act of
deploying a grenade with a zero-delay fuse could run your stress level
up. One mistake and you became pink mist!
We did a lot of planning, a lot of practice and more practice. At
this point, SSG Deck was starting to listen to some of my ideas. We
had been in combat together and I had more credibility now. He had
seen me in action and knew I would stay calm, shoot back, and take
care of team members. He also knew I was much faster at changing
magazines.
Special Equipment
Special equipment for this mission included: high powered
binoculars, single lens reflex camera with a telephoto lens, additional
Claymores, short time fuses with blasting caps and fuse igniters,
extra toe poppers, and powdered CS mixture for the dogs. The
special equipment not only added more weight to carry but required
extra training.
Travel to Launch Site
On launch day we got up early (before daylight) and loaded the RT
and all of our equipment into ambulances. We traveled out the FOB-
1 gate and just a little way up the road to the helipad where two CH-
34 Kingbee helicopters waited with engines running. The
ambulances backed up very close to them one at a time and unloaded
us in two groups. There were no lights. It was very dark. No one
could see us getting on the Kingbees because a CH-34 only has one
door. Once inside, it was hard to be seen even with the door open. I
knew we were getting deeper into the black ops world because
combat troops were not allowed to be transported in medical vehicles
—like the ambulances we had just ridden in. It made me feel more
special since we could violate international laws.
We were using the launch site at Quang Tri, which put all our
activities much closer to the Laos–South Vietnam border, the DMZ
and North Vietnam. I had been to Quang Tri before and was familiar
with the launch site procedure. Our launch was planned for 1000
hours that day. We had enough time to do a Pre-Combat Final
Inspection (PCFI) to make sure we had all our special equipment,
and each team member had all of his personal combat equipment,
including the correct ammunition and amounts, all equipment was
secured and sound proofed.
We went over the mission, insertion, security halt, route,
alternate extraction points, and other aspects of the mission. About
an hour before launch time, we attended the Final Mission Briefing
(FMB) with all the key leaders, pilots, American team members, our
meteorologist, a field report from Covey who was out in the general
area, frequencies, mission abort procedures, anti-aircraft fire,
supporting Air Force aircraft, Hillsboro and Moonbeam aircraft,
rendezvous points (RPs) and staging areas for the supporting
gunships, emergency extraction aircraft and A-1 Skyraiders,
emergency procedures, and other key people like the team 1-0 and 1-
1. We did not expect much AAA on the way out to the AO. The
insertion was expected to be quiet. Activity would accelerate after the
briefing.
Soon the team stood by the insertion Kingbees, engines running,
waiting for the signal to lock and load weapons and board the
aircraft. The high-pitch whine of the gunships starting up, the strong
smell of burned avgas from the Kingbee engines, and the copious
amounts of dust and sand in the air being stirred up by the aircraft—
all of this indicated the mission was a go, which brought butterflies
to the stomach.
Deck gave the signal. We locked and loaded, and boarded the
aircraft. Our positions inside the aircraft were different this time
because the Kingbee only had one door. Deck and I were seated next
to each other with our legs over the side of the floor. It was a
different feeling, almost claustrophobic. I could only see out the door
we were sitting in and my vision was much more restricted than in
the UH- 1D helicopter. We didn’t have a door gunner on the other
side. The Kingbee aircraft were much older than the Hueys. I didn’t
trust them. I was sure the Kingbee pilots were good, but it made me
nervous. With a lot of vibration and noise, we lifted off. The mission
had started!
Insertion
The flight to the insertion LZ was uneventful, but the memory of
what happened on the last insertion was still burned into my brain.
There was no dramatic “fall out of the sky” insertion this time. I
scanned the tree line closely but saw no signs of the NVA. We landed
in a small clearing of three-foot-high ribbon grass, exited the
Kingbees quickly and ran into the thick jungle vegetation. I really
noticed the weight I was carrying and how it impacted my
movement. The vegetation was so thick I could only see Cowboy in
front of me and Du behind me. I wondered how Deck was going to
control the team if we made contact. If the vegetation remained this
thick, some of the IADs we practiced would not work. After about
100 meters we stopped for a security halt, which allowed us to adapt
our senses to the jungle environment.
We established a kneeling security perimeter and then went into
adapt mode. We all listened. Could we hear any bad guys? What did
we hear? We adapted to the sounds of the jungle because for the last
45 minutes, all we could hear was the loud Whop! Whop! Whop! Of
the helicopter. This had created a temporary hearing threshold shift,
and now we could not hear very well. Unfortunately, it would take
several hours to get our hearing back to normal. Our sense of smell
had also been significantly degraded from smelling the avgas from
the Kingbee engines on the flight out there. This created a blind spot
or dark area in our senses.
I was very fortunate to have Spidey-senses. I wouldn’t be hearing
any more dog whistles after our first mission, but I still had the rest
of my super-senses. I would discover that I could smell the bad guys
— especially if they had eaten recently. On several occasions in the
future, I would sniff out ambushes. I would actually smell the enemy
—their body odor, what they had eaten—and know where they were
in relation to us. I could just sense their presence.
It was also very hot, over 100°F with 95% humidity. Sweat was
running into our eyes, causing them to burn and our vision to be
degraded. I saw leeches wiggling on the vegetation as they sensed our
body heat. They were ready to feast on us. We would wake up the
next morning with leeches all over us, and they would be swollen to
the size of our thumbs with our blood. This was my first dense jungle
experience. I was having a lot of new sensory experiences—almost to
the point of being overwhelmed. I took some deep breaths and
focused. RTs always started their mission surrounded. This was what
I had been told and so far, it seemed to hold true.
When Deck was comfortable with the security halt, he signaled
me to release the assets. I used our PRC-25 radio to transmit the
day’s three-letter code, Foxtrot Romeo Zulu, meaning, “Team okay,
moving north” using the whisper technique. There would be no
talking unless we made enemy contact. This meant all the air assets
waiting at their respective RPs about 20 minutes away were released
to return to their bases in Vietnam. Now we were really alone and on
our own.
We had code words for various situations, for example, “Team
okay, Moving North/South/East/West, Team OK, Enemy Close,
RON, etc.” All radio communications had to be very brief and secure.
We had a code book with different codes and frequencies for each
day. The NVA were always listening trying to pick up our radio
signal, then triangulate it. If they had artillery in range, they would
send us a “welcome message,” usually a barrage of artillery fire. If
artillery was out of range, they would send a large welcoming party.
If we were not in enemy contact and needed to talk on the radio,
we used a whisper technique. The PRC-25/77 handset was very
sensitive to a whisper. With a little practice our radio operators easily
understood us. We also used a lot of “blind transmissions.” We sent
out coded messages at predetermined times—but not on the hour.
The bad guys expected it on the hour. You knew that Covey, the
Tactical Operations Center (TOC) and Hillsboro/Moonbeam would
be listening for those transmissions at the scheduled times. If you
failed to send a message at those scheduled times, they would know
something was wrong. Covey always flew within radio range of us in
the morning and at last light and put out a coded call. Two “clicks”
(breaking squelch twice) on the radio handset only took a fraction of
a second and let Covey know the team was OK. These techniques,
and others, kept radio transmissions too short to be triangulated. If
we were in enemy contact, we could talk out loud (mostly yelling)
and in the clear (uncoded).
We moved as quietly as possible while avoiding trails, roads, and
the tops of ridgelines. We were moving at a snail’s speed of 100
meters (about 25 feet longer than a football field) an hour. It was a
slow and painstaking process. We could not afford to let the NVA
hear us or fail to hear them. Moving slowly also made it more
difficult for the enemy to see or hear us.
We had a great point man—a very dangerous job requiring a lot of
skill and guts—out in front of the team to keep us from walking up on
the enemy. No surprises! In a triple canopy, thick jungle, the light is
dim, even at midday. It was not unusual to be within 20 feet of the
enemy when we discovered each other’s presence. Most of the time
we were shooting at muzzle flashes or moving vegetation. We also
tried not to leave a trail that the bad guys could follow. The better the
point man, the less likely we were to walk up on the enemy and die!
The first 30–60 seconds after making contact tended to be very
deadly because team members were often standing when the
shooting started.
 We also had a tail gunner rear security man. It was another very
dangerous job requiring a lot of skill and guts to protect our six
(rear). His mission was to make sure no one slipped up behind us.
He spent most of his time guarding/looking to the rear. Each team
member had responsibility for a security zone when moving or
halted. Every team member was always “on,” sensing the
environment for the enemy—or any other threat, such as tigers,
snakes, booby traps, dogs, trackers, etc. High situational awareness
was critical. I had been studying and practicing personal and
situational awareness for years as part of my martial arts and warrior
training. Most of the time I used 4-D spheres of awareness of 10, 20,
30 and 50 meters in diameter. In more open terrain I would expand
these distances. You could not let your guard down for a second!
This was an early afternoon insertion, so we had time to move a
few hundred meters before eventually moving into an RON position.
The vegetation was thick with a small foot path along the center of
the ridge. It appeared to be primarily an animal path. We still moved
over to the edge of the ridge, staying away from the trail. This
provided us more concealment and security, but at a slower pace.
Our plan was to perform a fishhook maneuver when we found a
good site for the night. When we found the area we wanted to use for
our RON, we continued to move another 50–100 meters beyond it,
then made a U-turn down the side of the ridge and came back to the
RON spot on the side of the ridge. This way, if we were being tracked,
we would hear the NVA go by following our trail above us, which
would give us an early warning that we were in trouble. To know for
sure that we were being followed and to have more time to escape, I
put three M-14 toe popper mines on the trail just before it turned.
Most of the time when the NVA heard the explosion from the tracker
stepping on the toe popper, they assumed we were in front of them
and opened fire in that direction—but not always.
As soon as we stopped for the night, we put out the Claymore
mines in all likely avenues of approach. The areas to be most likely
used by the NVA got extra Claymores at different distances. We also
got the time fuses ready to put with blasting caps and fuse ignitors in
some individual Claymores to leave behind us if we had to evacuate
the RON during the night under fire. We did not carry Claymores
with the blasting cap in them. If a bullet hit a blasting cap inside a
Claymore, it would turn you into a pink mist!
 During our pre-mission training I had convinced Deck to include
a quick end-of-day briefing just before last light that included the
location of a rallying point, a day and night escape plan from the
RON and a reminder of our running password, frog hair. This was
another addition to the team SOP that Deck agreed to establish. The
running password allowed us to identify ourselves if we had been
separated from the team and were running to reunite—without
getting shot! The password had to be said in English. It was designed
to be difficult for an enemy soldier to hear the phrase and repeat it in
combat. I used a different phrase for each team I led, to include my
future family.
The thickness of the vegetation in the RON site helped prevent
the NVA from slipping up on us. They did not normally walk on the
steep side of the ridgeline through the vegetation, especially at night.
They preferred the trail on the ridgeline. In this situation each
person had to straddle a tree, so he wouldn’t slide down the side of
the ridge during the night.
Darkness came quickly and the jungle began to swallow us whole.
It closed in all around and over us, and if we were under a double-
canopy jungle, it got dark even faster. We were under a triple-canopy
where it was pretty dark in the daytime, but now it was night, and I
couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. Total darkness was
spreading around and over the things in the jungle. It was like a
physical thing, opaque black liquid slowly spreading and covering
everything.
It was my first night in that kind of jungle. I had spent days and
nights in the Florida Everglades before, but that was different for
many reasons. At first, the increasing darkness made me a little
nervous because even though I had night vision like an owl, I found it
difficult to see. Then I had a blinding flash of the obvious (BFO): if I
could not see, the NVA could not see either. A critical difference
between us and the NVA was we were not moving, and they were.
They could not move without making noise. If they made any noise,
we would know they were out there and where they were. I was next
to a big dead tree, about two feet in diameter, that was lying on the
ground. I moved up close to it so I would have cover on at least one
side.
I created a 4-D sphere around me, the fourth dimension being
time. I started facing the ridge and then listened to identify all the
sounds I could hear for 360 degrees around me horizontally, then
vertically. I needed to know what was out there. What sounds did I
hear? What bugs did I hear? Then I divided the area into quadrants
and identified the sounds in each one. I then did the same thing
going up until I knew the sounds in all four quadrants. Then I raised
it up because above me were birds, monkeys and all kinds of
creatures making sounds in the trees. A lot of sounds! I incorporated
all this together.
The sound of silence was the trigger, which made me think of
Simon and Garfunkel’s song “The Sound of Silence.” This system
would actually wake me up if any quadrant went silent. If anyone or
anything moved in a quadrant, the bugs would stop chirping. They
would go quiet all of a sudden, and if they went quiet, something was
out there. The silence could be deafening. This would alert me to
where the creatures were coming from. It might be an NVA, a
tracker, a tiger, or other large animal, but something would have
caused them to get quiet. Not only was the dark becoming my friend,
so were the bugs, birds, frogs and other creatures that made noise.
We were all part of one big system.
The NVA could not see the team and we had area weapons, such
as Claymore mines and grenades. We could set off a Claymore and all
they would see, if anything, was a tremendous ball of fire and a blast
wave as the 700 steel balls traveling at 4,000 feet per second
shredded anyone in front of it, but they would not know exactly
where we were. The team was carrying 17 Claymores! The next level
of weapon was fragmentation grenades. We could throw grenades
and there would be a big ball of fire and a lot of shrapnel with a 15-
meter killing radius, but they wouldn’t know where it came from. RT
Alabama was carrying 70 fragmentation grenades! As long as no one
pulled the trigger on their CAR-15, the NVA would not know where
we were. I was learning to like the dark. I actually began to look
forward to the darkness. I knew we would find the NVA if they were
out there.
It took about 30 minutes or so for the silence that we had created
setting up the RON to escalate back to normal jungle noise levels.
Once everyone was down, the jungle returned to normal—except for
the smell—and the RON rule was once you were down, you were
down. You did NOT move again until morning. Anyone moving was a
bad guy! That’s one reason we carried a sharp knife. A knife did not
light you up unless the bad guy pulled his trigger.
We positioned ourselves so we could reach the guy on each side to
wake him up or alert him that something was happening. To wake
someone without terrifying them, we gently put our hand around the
back of the person’s upper arm and slowly squeezed. The slow
squeeze caused their eyes to open. We trained to do this so team
members knew if they got squeezed, to just open their eyes—that was
the only thing that moved—and then you started listening. What did
you hear? It might be your turn to be on guard, or it might be that
there was something out there. On my next team, RT Michigan, I
would create and implement a set of touch signals for use at night.
Sometimes we dropped down to 30 percent on guard at night
while the rest slept. I knew teams that let everyone sleep at night, but
not me. I was not going there. We always had at least a few team
members awake throughout the night. Some nights no one slept.
We had a rule that team members kept their arms through their
rucksack straps at night. Your rucksack needed to go with you if you
had to leave in a hurry. Our LBE never came off our body. Our
weapon was always fastened to us with a cord that went through a
snap-link on the shoulder of the LBE. In the RON, all team members
kept their CAR-15 (or M-79) laying across their lap so they could put
their hands on it easily and quietly. A knife was on your LBE where
you could easily and quietly access it if you needed it. Our feet
needed to be free and ready to instantly kick, fight, roll or flee. Even
in heavy rain at night, we kept our feet ready to react instantly. (I still
sleep with my feet free 50+ years later.) Your mind and body were
always “on” even if you were asleep. Our survival and the team’s
survival depended on it.
Several times during the night we heard the sounds of vehicles,
probably trucks, moving in the valley below us and some metallic
sounds like something being put into or taken out of vehicles.
Activity going on below us was definitely what made us believe we
were on the fringes of the NVA battalion. At first light we had a quick
snack and slowly got ready to move, bringing the Claymores in last.
We had not heard any activity in the valley for two hours. Some team
members and I smelled smoke from what was most likely the
enemy’s cooking fires. It appeared that the NVA were having a nice
hot meal that morning—if we were lucky, it would be their last meal.
 We were ready to move, but still down on one knee. It appeared
that Deck and Hoa were having a disagreement. Hoa refused to go
forward up the ridge. He told Deck, “Too many VC! Beaucoup VC!”
Deck did not believe him. He replaced him with the alternate point
man, Quan. I wondered what made Deck so sure it was okay to move
up the ridge. I trusted Deck, but my adrenaline level jumped as we
started moving. I turned up all of my Spidey senses to the max! I felt
like that point in a Chainsaw Massacre movie when you knew
Leatherface was going to jump out from behind a tree and start
sawing people’s arms off. I could still smell the smoke from the
valley.
After a couple hours, we came to a small, 300-foot-high cliff that
allowed us to see a piece of the valley. We stopped there, set up
security and put out the Claymores. Deck, Cowboy and I moved to
where we could observe the valley. We did not see any movement but
saw some areas that appeared to have a road under the canopy. The
air was still heavy and smoke hung just above the canopy, probably
close to where the cooking fires had been. We transmitted the
coordinates to Covey when he got in range.
After about an hour in this position we heard some sounds on the
ridge that spooked the team. They started with their “Beaucoup VC!”
comments again. Deck said, “No! Banana trees falling and deer/
animals! Not VC/NVA.” In my mind I wondered how Deck knew the
sounds were not NVA? What was he hearing that I didn’t hear? I
would pick his brain to learn later. We stayed in position.
About an hour later we heard the vehicle sounds again along with
voices. A lot of voices! After Deck talked to Covey, a decision was
made to bring in F-4s to bomb and napalm the valley and hilltop. It
wasn’t long until we had two F-4s on station taking turns coming in
low and hot with fangs out. They were very loud! The bombs (500-
pounders) were loud and rattled our heads with the concussions. We
could feel the heat from the napalm every time they dropped it. The
NVA were not happy! Apparently, we had found the right spot. The
F-4s not only received a lot of automatic weapons fire, but also anti-
aircraft fire and secondary explosions from the ammunition, fuel,
etc., each time they made a run.
Covey brought in four A-1s to follow up behind the F-4s while
they were being replaced. The A-1s went after the anti-aircraft
positions. Some of the team members alerted again. This time Deck
agreed with them and passed the word around to get ready to repel
an enemy assault coming down from above us. We would fight our
way down the ridge toward the extraction LZ. Deck notified Covey we
were in trouble and needed air support. About two minutes later the
crap hit the fan!
A toe popper exploded and approximately 40–50 NVA coming
down the ridge opened fire on us with AK-47s and rocket propelled
grenades (RPGs). Quan was wounded in the arm and back by
shrapnel from an RPG explosion, but he was able to move without
assistance. The NVA were trying to maneuver so as to form a U-
shape to force our backs against the cliff so we could not escape. We
could not see the NVA most of the time, so we were shooting at
muzzle flashes, moving vegetation and sounds of weapons firing. We
were very close, 20–40 feet, to the NVA in thick jungle vegetation. I
fired bursts of 2–4 rounds. Sometimes the vegetation opened up and
we could see farther. Most of the time from the ground I could not
see anything, including the enemy.
Fortunately, we had discovered them early enough that we were
able to block them with Claymores long enough to run along the side
of the ridge while Covey diverted the A-1s to us. Their 20mm guns
tore up the ridge and the NVA, giving us time to gain a little distance.
They were still firing RPGs at us, wounding Quang in the back and
leg. He began yelling that he was hit and needed help. I left a couple
of Claymores with time fuses behind us. They ripped a hole in the
middle of the NVA assault line. This slowed the NVA while they
regrouped.
The surprise Claymores seemed to have a psychological effect on
them, causing them to move slower and more cautiously. As I
watched how the NVA reacted to our actions, I had another BFO—
the NVA were not animals, but humans. They did not want to die any
more than we did.
Deck had me call Covey and request a Prairie Fire Emergency as
we fought our way down the ridge. Normally, when we called a
Prairie Fire Emergency everything flying that had ordnance on it and
within range was diverted to the team. Unfortunately for us, another
team had a Prairie Fire Emergency in progress that started just
before ours. This limited our emergency assets in the beginning. A
new set of F-4s had arrived on station and we had A-1s, gunships and
UH-1D extraction aircraft about 30 minutes out.
 We continued working the A-1s and F-4s we had until the new
ones and gunships arrived. The intensity increased. Two of our guys
were wounded, which significantly reduced our fire power. The NVA
had the high ground advantage because we were moving down the
ridge to our extraction LZ. (The same LZ we used for insertion.) The
NVA knew that was where we were going. I was sure they were
maneuvering a force to that location to throw a party for us. I asked
Covey to be prepared to have the A-1s work over the ridge on the
lower side of the LZ—just in case the NVA got there in time.
The fighting was fierce, and we were carrying Quang. I also got to
see Cowboy in action. He was a real warrior! No fear. He worked
with me fighting a delaying action at the rear of the team slowing
down the NVA. He had experience using Claymores with time fuses
and a great instinct for the way the NVA moved against us. Cowboy’s
experience and courage made our Claymores and C-4 charges more
effective.
Jones stayed close to Deck and followed his instructions for
navigating a safe route to the LZ. So far, we had been lucky in that we
only had two wounded and the NVA appeared to be just on the ridge
above us. We tried to move fast but we were receiving so much fire
we mostly crawled, literally. The vegetation was thick and the longest
distance we could see was at best 30 meters and that was in the
center of the ridge. If we could keep them more than 30 meters
behind us, they could not aim directly at a team member. They were
just putting a lot of AK fire and RPGs where they thought we were.
The same went for us firing back at them. We fired at sounds, muzzle
flashes and movement. We were going through ammunition pretty
fast, especially 40mm.
Covey told us that the gunships and TAC Air were still receiving a
lot of automatic weapons and anti-aircraft fire. The extraction
aircraft would not be able to approach the LZ until that could be
suppressed. More TAC Air was about 20 minutes out. Our extraction
aircraft was only about ten minutes out along with two Cobra
gunships. I asked Covey to check the LZ area again for any
movement. The vegetation around the LZ was thick, but he might get
lucky and spot movement if the bad guys were there.
When we got about 100 meters from the LZ, all hell broke loose
from our front. There were 30–40 NVA waiting on us. Now we were
between two groups. The group from the LZ opened fire with a heavy
barrage from AK-47s, machine guns (RPDs) and RPGs. They
assaulted and began trying to maneuver around our flanks. There
were several loud booms, with one of them hitting me with
concussion, mud and other debris, some of which went in my eyes. I
was having trouble seeing. My ruck and radio were hit with shrapnel
from one of the B-40 rockets. The radio looked bad but still worked.
The small wooden box of blasting caps was hit but not penetrated.
Some of the C-4 was hit, but that was not a big deal.
Deck called me to his position. He wanted the A-1s to put their
20mm fire on the NVA to our front. We were about to be crushed.
The first A-1 gun run got the NVA’s attention and stopped their
assault. They did not expect the devastation of the 20mm. The
second A-1 gun run made them start to scatter. The Cobras arrived
on site and worked above and below us with rockets, mini-guns and
40mm.
We continued to fight our way to the edge of the LZ and saw 20–
30 NVA bodies scattered around. Some of them were still alive and
had to be terminated. We were not in a position to take prisoners.
Covey said the extraction ship was a UH-1C and wanted smoke.
Jones threw a purple smoke grenade onto the edge of the LZ. The
UH-1C identified purple. Deck got everyone ready to dash to the
chopper on his command. We also turned our bush hats inside out so
the bright orange VS-17 panel sewn to the inside would make us
identifiable to the door gunners. We didn’t want to be mistaken for
an NVA trying to get to the chopper, which the NVA sometimes tried!
Deck went to the left side of the chopper with Hoa, Du and the
wounded Quang. Jones, Cowboy and I took the wounded Quan to the
right side. I climbed on just before Deck as the chopper was lifting
off. The door gunners and all team members not wounded returned
fire from the chopper. As we got about 20 feet in the air, Deck and I
both threw a red smoke grenade to signal that the LZ and
surrounding area were “cleared hot,” meaning anyone on the ground
was a bad guy. Covey was free to destroy everything there! We
continued to receive fire as we climbed out. I heard a few metallic
clangs as the chopper took some hits. I looked over at Deck. He gave
me his characteristic big smile and a thumbs up.
As I began to give medical attention to Quang and Quan, I
thought, Wow! What an adrenaline rush! I now had a better
understanding of the emotions Deck was experiencing when he
would give me a big smile and thumbs up.

As we flew away, I saw and heard our air assets pounding the
crap out of the bad guys. We had found the NVA battalion and rained
death and destruction down on them. Our team had also taken out a
large number (100–200) of them on the ground. I continued to be
amazed at how tough and deadly our little guys were in a firefight.
After a short prayer, I settled down for the ride back.
We arrived back at the launch site greeted by a small cheering
group. We were all excited to be back to a relatively safe area. Our
medics met our aircraft and began treating Quang and Quan as they
moved them to the medical tent. Now it was time to do the initial
debriefing. This one went a lot better than the last one. SSG Willis
had found a better way to ask me questions—and I had a better
attitude toward the forest ranger questions. Later, we would fly back
to FOB-1. The next day would be more debriefings and some needed
recovery.
Lessons Learned
Adaptation to the jungle during the security halt works for all
your senses except hearing. After an hour or more helicopter
ride it can take 2–3 hours for your hearing to return to
“normal.” After a heavy firefight it might take 16–48 hours for
the hearing loss to return—or the hearing loss might be
permanent.
We did not have a jungle to train in at Phu Bai—just an open
range. We needed a jungle.
In the RON your feet need to be free and ready to instantly kick,
fight, roll or flee. Even in a heavy rain at night, I kept them ready
to react instantly.
Layered Claymores are very effective. Each Claymore in a layer
detonates instantly with the others linked to it. A tremendous
explosion is created and thousands of steel balls fly through the
jungle (and NVA) at 4,000 feet per second. For example, a layer
of seven Claymores equals 10.5 pounds of explosives (C- 4) and
4,900 steel balls.
Claymores with time fuses slow the NVA’s advance.
I had a blinding flash of the obvious (BFO)—the NVA were
humans too. They did not want to die any more than we did.
Cowboy’s courage and expertise really helped slow the NVA’s
advance. I learned a lot from him as we fought the delaying
action.
Recon Teams always start out surrounded by the enemy.
High situational awareness (being in the now) is critical.
Combat creates an addictive adrenaline rush.
I had another blinding flash of the obvious (BFO): if I could not
see, the NVA could not see either, and a critical difference
between us and the NVA was we were not moving and they were.
They could not move without making noise. If they made any
noise, we would know they were out there and where they were.
The jungle closed in around us at night.
We used a “Fishhook” technique to move into the RON.
I learned the dark was my friend (and used my super senses).
Once down, no one moves!
We used the “triceps squeeze” to wake someone up without
creating a panic.
We always slept with arms through rucksack straps, CAR-15
across lap & attached to LBE (shoulder), knife where we could
get it quickly.
At night use area weapons (e.g., claymores, grenades) only,
unless no choice.
I could not see enemy most of the time. I was shooting at muzzle
flashes, moving vegetation, sounds of weapons firing. We were
very close (20–40 feet) to the enemy in thick jungle vegetation.
Fired 3-round bursts on full auto. Sometimes the vegetation
opened up and you could see a longer distance. Most of the time
from the ground you could not see team members or the enemy.
It was necessary to learn to create a mental model of the
battlefield, including terrain, based on sensory data and be able
to operate there.
Claymores with time fuse were a great tactic for slowing the
NVA’s advancement.
Movement at nighttime was dangerous.
The battlefield and firefights are very fast and dynamic.
Every casualty ties up at least one or two team members,
reducing your speed and firepower dramatically.
We all need to build more physical strength and cardio to
manage our loadout and other demands of combat.
 My left hand and thighs of my pants legs became my combat
information center. I wrote call signs, directions, etc., on them.
Information was coming too fast to mentally manage it under
high stress.
I realized that one of the benefits of being in a firefight is that
my loadout (weight I was carrying) continued to get lighter as I
used my ammunition, water, explosives, etc.
High stress significantly reduces your working memory and
decision-making effectiveness.
Stress dries your mouth out. Water had never tasted so good!

RT Alabama Mission 3: Eldest Son & Gas SOG #3 (18 DEC

68)
Mission 3 Team Roster
Deck 1-0
Thompson 1-1
Jones 1-2
Cowboy Interpreter
Hoa Pointman
Du M-79
Quan Alternate point
Team Mission
After a day of rest, we were assigned another mission with a short
prep time. Our mission was to locate and contaminate an NVA
ammunition cache near a major supply route in the eastern part of
the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) between South Vietnam and North
Vietnam using Eldest Son—also called exploding ammunition,
Italian Green and Pole Bean. Eldest Son was one of SOG’s insidious
black PsyOps programs. It was designed to invoke a deep
psychological fear in the enemy. The plan called for a quick,
clandestine mission to the ammunition cache while conducting a
diversionary airstrike on a nearby bridge using F-4s. RT Alabama
started preparing immediately for an 18 DEC 1968 insertion. We
were getting into the “darker” missions of SOG right away.

RT Alabama Post-Mission 2 Training DEC 68

Training
This mission would involve not only 7.62mm rounds, but also
12.7mm rounds and 82mm mortar rounds. Proper placement of this
ammunition would be difficult and critical. We were scheduled to
meet with a CIA operative for some specific Eldest Son training the
next day. Unknown to him and us, he would also share information
that would leave us, especially me, stunned!
Normally, Eldest Son insertions were accomplished using a
special all-American SOG team that followed closely behind B-52
strikes, constructed hastily prepared bunkers/fighting positions,
then “salted” them with the faulty ammunition. Unfortunately, two
weeks prior, on 30 NOV 1968, an Eldest Son team’s helicopter was
hit with 37mm anti-aircraft fire and fell like a rock to the jungle
canopy 3,000 feet below, exploded and burned. The air crew and
seven SOG team members died that day. A Bright Light mission
(mission to recover a missing team or team members) was not
attempted because of the location and number of NVA in the area.
I was shocked when he shared this information. I realized that I
had inventoried the personal effects of these SOG heroes, including
my friend Ray Stacks, on my second day at FOB-1. This small piece of
SOG had come full circle. In a week I would be inserted as part of a
team to complete their mission. (See the KIAs listed at the beginning
of Chapter 4. Their remains would not be repatriated until 20 years
later.)
This mission would be a clandestine operation on an ammunition
storage area where we would infiltrate the storage area and appear to
leave it untouched. In reality, we would leave some deadly, black
psychological ops surprises for the future users of this ammunition
cache. The last thing I remembered as I was falling asleep that night
was the image of Dick Fitts’ two-year-old son, Rich, in my mind.
Travel
We left FOB-1 right after lunch on 18 DEC 68 and arrived at the
Quang Tri launch site at 1330. We were scheduled for a 1600 launch.
In addition to the standard Mission Package, we would have a flight
of four F-4s flying Combat Air Patrol to intercept any NVA MiGs that
might try to attack us. The weather was great, not a cloud in the sky,
with a 5–10 MPH wind out of the northeast. That was also the
orientation (direction) of the ridge on which our LZ was located. It
should be a smooth landing.
 We were traveling relatively light. We would go in late in the day
concurrently with an airstrike on a bridge approximately 3,000
meters northwest of our LZ, designed to focus attention away from
our insertion. Once on the ground we would move quickly to the
storage area and attempt to recon the site before dark. Once it was
dark, we would go in, make our deposits and head back to the LZ for
a night pickup (very unusual). The Air Force would pound the bridge
area again with F-4s to cover our extraction. Simple plan. In and out.
Final Mission Brief
RT Alabama would be inserted with a UH-1D helicopter with a chase
UH-1D, two Cobra gunships escorting the team UH-1D, two more
Cobras on station, two A-1s on station, two F-4s flying Combat Air
Patrol to keep the North Vietnamese MiGs away, a FAC/Covey
directing the airstrike and two F-4s delivering the strike on the
bridge. All missions in the DMZ and North Vietnam required F-4 Air
Cover to fend off North Vietnamese MiGs.
Insertion
After the Final Mission Briefing, Deck conducted a final team
briefing and moved to the aircraft. The takeoff was smooth, and
there was no anti-aircraft fire on the way to the target. The reports
coming from the AO seemed to be good. I was excited about this
mission. Go in. Do it. Get out. I’d done a lot of night extractions in
Special Forces and Ranger training, so I wasn’t concerned about this
part of the mission.
As we turned on short-final I could see the F-4s pounding the
bridge and surrounding area. I didn’t see any activity around our LZ.
Our approach was smooth and fast. Deck gave the signal to get on
the skids. The plan was for the chopper to do a touch and go. We had
to get off the skids fast because it was not going to stop. We jumped
off, the chopper lifted off quickly, and then it hit us—CS gas! The
NVA were gassing the LZ—and we didn’t bring our masks! My eyes
burned and watered, and it was difficult to breathe. That light breeze
mentioned in the final mission brief brought a cloud of CS gas down
the long axis of the LZ. Then to make it more exciting, the NVA
opened fire on us.
I called Covey and told him what was going on and that we
needed to be extracted. When he came back to me, he said the air
crew did not have masks either. They could not come in to get us
until the CS gas had dissipated. Covey turned the Cobras loose on the
wood line at the northwest end of the LZ. The CS gas had started to
dissipate quickly. It appeared to be a small force of about ten NVA at
the LZ. Deck made the decision to go after them. It was like chasing
rabbits. It only took about 15 minutes with the help of Covey and the
Cobras to terminate them. They did not seem to fight like normal
NVA.
Now we had a decision to make. It was going to be dark in about
45 minutes. Our entry had been compromised. Did we continue the
mission even though they knew we were there, or did we abort? I
recommended that we continue the mission. If we moved fast, we
could get to the storage area before dark, see what it looked like and
be ready to go in by 2200. By 2400 we could be on our way back to
the LZ. If we ran into any problems, we would withdraw and bomb
the storage site. We could still leave our packages there. Deck agreed.
He told Covey our decision and briefed the team. We moved toward
the storage area at a fast pace.
We arrived at the southeast side of the storage area about 15
minutes before dark and transmitted the “onsite” code word. We did
not see any security or activity inside the area. It did not have a fence
around it. I heard a couple short dog barks indicating they probably
had security dogs. Our plan was to take them out with our .22 caliber
pistols with integrated silencers if they came after us. I also had CS
powder (with black pepper mixed in) with me. If they tried to use the
dogs to track us, I could really mess up their nostrils.
Cowboy and I looked around and located the areas where we
needed to plant the packages. Deck agreed to let Cowboy and me go
into the area as a team and insert the Eldest Sons while he kept the
team ready to provide overwatch support if we got into trouble and
needed extracting. We had a plan. I encoded the plan and sent it to
Covey, who had returned to an orbit near the AO to be available to
provide support. Cowboy got what we needed, and we all rested until
2130. I sent the “starting insertion” code word to Covey.
It was pretty quiet at that point. Cowboy and I moved into the
storage area and planted the mortar rounds first. They were big and
heavy. We were glad to get rid of them. Next were the 12.7mm
rounds then the 7.62mm.
 I thought I heard something when we were finishing with the
7.62mm plant. I turned to see a dog in the attack position about
three feet from me. He launched as I was bringing my .22 pistol up,
and I managed to shoot him three times in the chest. He cried out,
hit the ground at my feet and grabbed my ankle! I put two more in
the side of his head and it was over, but I was sure we had attracted
attention. I grabbed the dog’s hind feet and dragged him into the
bushes. Cowboy and I moved quickly toward the perimeter, but not
directly toward Alabama. We made a right turn at the perimeter and
moved quickly toward the team. As we got close, I used the running
password, frog hair.
I sent the “insertion complete” code word to Covey that we had
completed the plant and were moving toward the LZ. The team
moved quickly to the southwest, staying in the valley for 300 meters,
then curved around another 300 meters to the east and up the ridge
100 meters to the LZ. Covey told me the extraction team was ten
mikes (minutes) out. We arranged the LZ marking team in a T
formation, with the top of the T into the mild wind in the grass with
flashlights with red filters on them. The extraction chopper
approached with all lights off and identified the LZ marking as
Tango. I gave Covey a “Roger that” and the chopper came in. The
team boarded quickly and we were off. No shots fired! I saw Deck
turn his head toward my side, and I quickly gave him a thumbs up
and smile. He laughed.
We were debriefed when we got back to the launch site and flew
back to FOB-1 the next morning. We got our new mission that
afternoon.
Lessons Learned
CS gas was one of those things that we didn’t plan for. It was
such a rarity for the NVA to use it; we just didn’t do it on this
mission. Sometimes we would carry CS grenades and CS rounds
for the M79 (40 mm grenades). If we carried CS, then we carried
the masks too. If you used CS gas, you had better have a mask or
you were going to be as bad off as the NVA, because without fail,
the winds would change and it was going to come right back on
you. Then you’d be in trouble.
 The new RT Alabama SOP—carry M-17 protective masks. I
carried the rule to my future teams.
Always plan for the unexpected.
Train for night movement. RTs rarely move at night unless they
are trying to escape. We need more training.
We can execute a night raid.
We can execute a night extraction.
The dog at the ammunition cache was an adrenaline rush.
Animals are the enemy too.
A dog can take several hits from a .22 unless the bullets hit the
right place—so can an NVA.
This was a Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) operational area which
meant that the rules were a little different. NVA MiGs were a
possibility. The DMZ itself was considered a much more
sensitive target politically.
After this mission I started carrying an Eldest Son AK-47
magazine with me on most missions (unless we were using AK-
47s). I was required to keep detailed notes on where and how I
deployed it as an Easter egg for the NVA to find—and maintain
its security to prevent US and SOG members from accidentally
using it.
The first group of NVA ran from us! We were very aggressive,
hunted them down and terminated them. They were guards.
They were not the normal NVA warriors we fought.

Post-Mission Training
Continue fitness training. For the most part, the team did not
like it or want to do it. I began to camouflage it into mission pre-
training by having the team carry their loadout weight for most
of our training. I found them to be very strong for their size.
They had been carrying a similar weight for a long time.
We continued working on all IADs and standard operating
procedures.
The team members were not happy about the eating and
hydration procedures but did it anyway.
 We did IAD practice on the range, expanded medical training,
and focused more on hydration and dealing with dogs.
We began to spend more time on situational awareness and
natural night vision training.
We spent time talking about and training to be more aggressive.

RT Alabama Mission 4: Christmas Road Interdiction SOG

#4 (23 DEC 68)
Mission 4 Team Roster
Deck 1-0
Thompson 1-1
Jones 1-2
Cowboy Interpreter
Hoa Pointman
Du M-79
Quan Tail gunner
Background
We were approaching Christmas, 1968. President Lyndon Johnson
called a cease fire in Vietnam for Christmas Day. The North
Vietnamese claimed they were doing the same. There would be 24
hours of neither side shooting at one another. This had been going
on for several years, with numerous violations by the North
Vietnamese each year. In SOG, we had heard about the cease fire. No
one thought it would apply to us. The cease fire would give the
enemy a “free day” to move more troops and supplies from North
Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia into South Vietnam.
On 21 DEC, SSG Deck and I were called into the FOB-1
Operations Center and told that RT Alabama was the next team up
and for us to get ready to launch on the 23rd with the plan to stay at
least through the 27th. This meant we would be deep inside Laos and
near large concentrations of enemy on Christmas Day. I learned that
the cease fire did not cover countries outside of the two Vietnams. No
Christmas turkey dinner this year!
Our mission was to make sure that the NVA in our area of
operation did not get a free day. We were to move to an observation
point where we could observe and interdict supply traffic on a major
shipping route from Laos into South Vietnam.
Training
We began planning and training right away for our new mission. We
planned to take a seven-man team. Quang’s wounds would not be
healed enough to go on this mission so he would remain behind to
rest and heal. Quan would be ready to go. The team would be Deck,
me, Jones, Hoa, Cowboy, Du and Quan. We would be using high
powered binoculars, an SLR camera with a 900mm telephoto lens to
photograph the traffic before we destroyed it. This equipment was
new to our team, so we needed time to play with it both day and
night. We also continued to do our regular team training,
incorporating lessons learned from our last mission. We had a lot to
do in a short period of time.
We trained a lot on IADs, photography, hiding the
glare/reflection of the binoculars, our day defensive positions, RONs,
Claymore rigging and placements, and navigating in that type of
rugged terrain. Everything we planned to carry was evaluated for its
usefulness. Weight was critical. I changed my food to a mixture of
PIRs (Project Indigenous Rations) and LRPs. Rice, meat, fruitcake
and the cereal bar became my primary food during missions. This
gave me a lighter and less noisy way to eat. I also added Lomotil to
create a little constipation—an antidiarrheal, antiperistaltic agent. It
will stop you up! Didn’t want to get caught with my pants down. But
it has side effects!
Special Forces, and especially SOG, had its own “Q” (from the
James Bond lore). Our indigenous forces (Vietnamese and especially
the Montagnards) were getting diarrhea from eating US rations. Ben
Baker wanted to create a ration that the indigenous forces could eat.
He went to the US Navy and was told it would cost millions to create
such a ration and take 2–3 years to complete the project.
Baker used $250 of his own money and within eight weeks,
completed the Project Indigenous Ration (PIR). He found a private
company willing to manufacture the meals for $1.00 apiece. He
placed an order for 30,000 meals. By the end of the Vietnam war, his
organization, the US Army Counter Insurgency Support Office
(CISO), had sent over 66 million rations for use by the US and its
allies.
 I also made a “scoop” out of the bottom of the thick plastic bag in
the PIR. I could use this to dip rainwater from the low places on my
small, indigenous poncho to fill my canteen and to get water from
streams. I found many uses for this scoop across time.
Visual Reconnaissance (Aerial)
One tool the RTs had, in some cases, was a Visual Reconnaissance
(VR) of the AO. The 1-0 and another team member, usually the 1-1
(assistant team leader/radio operator), would fly to the AO and
observe and photograph the area from the air. The VR had to be
designed not to call attention to the AO. This meant that the VR
aircraft would only be in the AO a few minutes, as if crossing the area
enroute to another location. This meant the 1-0 had to look quickly
and get a lot of good pictures.
The VR aircraft would typically be a small O-1 with a Vietnamese
Air Force pilot. Sometimes we would fly with a US Air Force FAC in
an O-2 (push-pull aircraft). And in 1969 if you were really lucky (or
not!) you might get to ride in an OV-10. When you flew with a FAC,
you were going along on his mission of putting in air strikes near
your AO with a couple of passes over your area. The FAC constantly
flew a zig-zag path to make it more difficult to hit with anti-aircraft
fire. It was sickening, literally. When he found his target, he would
dive down to fire WP rockets to mark it as a target for the F-4s to hit.
I knew my stomach would be in my throat. The pilot would dive right
into the anti-aircraft and automatic weapons fire. Disney would
never build a thrill ride that came close to that!
After firing two rockets, he would pull out of the dive and head
almost straight up. The g-forces would crush me into my seat! I could
not move. When he leveled off the ascent, my stomach was back in
my throat again. After a few of these target-marking episodes, almost
everyone who had flown with the FACs had the contents of their
stomachs all over them and the aircraft. Fortunately, these missions
only lasted 4–5 hours.
Deck scheduled a visual recon of our AO for Day 3 of our mission
prep. This involved flying out to our area in a small Cessna fixed-
wing aircraft with a Vietnamese Air Force pilot. I was not excited
about this, but it would give us a chance to see the area from the air. I
really hated sitting in the back seat. It was too difficult to get in and
out of— especially in an emergency. Most of our time in Laos would
be spent in areas other than ours. We didn’t want to give away our
AO. It would also give us a chance to get used to our big cameras. We
took pictures of the LZs in the area, the ridgeline, cliffs and portions
of the road that were visible. We could see some cliffs on the
ridgeline we planned to use for observation. These could possibly
support our mission. We even got to see an Air Force FAC working
airstrikes with F-4s along the supply route.
The flight was rough, and the little plane bounced all over the sky.
Deck and I were both on the verge of vomiting in the plane. In
addition, we heard a lot of automatic weapons fire pass by us. The
NVA knew we were up to something and really wanted to shoot us
down. I was glad to get back to Da Nang! Unfortunately, this was the
least brutal of all the VRs that I would conduct across the border. A
Kingbee picked us up at Da Nang and flew us back to FOB-1. I was
nauseated the rest of the day.
 Our small photo lab at FOB-1 did a rush job on the film (it was all
black and white in those days) and we used the pictures with the
team that afternoon to plan our route, observation locations and
alternate LZs. We did detail planning and then conducted rehearsals
based on the data we had gathered.
Launch Site
Before daylight on 23 DEC 68 our team was covertly loaded on CH-
34 helicopters and flown to the Quang Tri launch site for a launch at
1000 hours. We did an equipment check and reviewed our five-day
plan and IADs. It seemed like we were spending a lot of time at
Quang Tri.
During the Final Mission Briefing we learned that the weather
forecast was great for the next five days with only a few scattered
showers predicted, mostly at night. We should have good conditions
to interdict the highway. Everything was falling into place for a
successful mission. Soon we were lifting off and flying away into the
black hole.
Insertion
Our FAC/Covey took up a position at a rendezvous position near the
insertion area. Cobra gunships escorted the insertion aircraft to the
landing zone and watched over us during the insertion, ready to
provide close air support instantly if we made contact. Fortunately,
the insertion went smoothly. We moved approximately 150 meters
and made a security halt. After approximately ten minutes of
adaptation, we had not detected anything unusual, so I sent that
day’s “Charlie- Two-Alpha” code to Covey that meant, “Team okay,
moving east.” The terrain was rugged and rocky with relatively thick
vegetation which slowed our movement. On the positive side, the
rocks provided a lot of cover if we made contact as we traveled
toward our first planned observation point. Cover stops bullets.
Concealment does not.
We spent an uneventful rest of the day slowly moving toward our
first observation point where we could observe traffic flow on the
large road that went through the valley. When we got to the small
cliff, we did our normal fishhook maneuver to come back to the cliff.
At the cliff, we did a security halt while Deck, Cowboy and I crawled
forward to recon the site and determine the best way to secure the
observation position. Then we brought the team forward, set up
security, Claymores and toe poppers, and made sure everyone knew
our different escape routes. It was very dangerous being up against a
cliff. We could easily be surrounded with no escape except over the
cliff—and that would be certain death. We emphasized to the team
that we could not let the bad guys slip up on us.
Just as we were finishing our briefing, Du leaped forward and
crawled quickly away from his position, making a lot of noise and
startling the whole team! Quan, who had been next to him did the
same thing. Du gave the signal for snake. I crawled carefully over to
where Du had been and a saw a black and yellow Banded Krait,
about five feet long with a highly toxic venom. The Banded Krait was
one of 22 varieties of venomous snakes in our area. If it had bitten
Du, he would have died before we could have gotten him out.
Fortunately, this type of snake is primarily nocturnal, and bites
during the daytime are rare. I pinned it down with the butt of my
CAR-15, cut its head off and tossed both pieces over the cliff. We did
not want it crawling back into our site at night and biting someone—
or the team spooked all night because they thought it might be back.
I didn’t mention that it probably had a mate somewhere close by.

It did not take long to spot activity on the road. Within about 30
minutes after reporting the activity, a pair of F-4s came out of
nowhere and began pounding the vehicles and traffic on the road. It
was exciting to watch, but we knew it wouldn’t take long for the NVA
to suspect that there was a team in the area—and that they were
probably using the cliffs.
First Night
About an hour before dark, we made the decision not to use the
observation site as an RON. We didn’t want to be against the cliff.
We had been there long enough that we might have been detected,
and the team was still spooked by the snake. We brought in our
Claymores and toe poppers, moved to a rocky area with thick
vegetation and set up our normal security. We did not have a view of
the valley from this site, but it provided us much more initial
protection and better access to escape routes.
We heard lots of activity in the valley during the night. The NVA
were using the cover of darkness to recover their dead and any
materials and vehicles they could salvage. New vehicles arrived and
passed through the area headed south along their route to South
Vietnam. We sent regular reports, but there were no air strikes
during the night.
It rained for about an hour starting around 2330 hours. The
temperature was in the low 90s and the rain felt cold. I used my
small poncho to try to stay partially dry, with little success. I did
however manage to catch some rainwater that I was able to scoop out
and drink. The rain made it much easier to move undetected through
the jungle because the sound of the rain masked the movement
sound and made the ground, vegetation, leaves and sticks quieter
when you stepped on them. All of this also made it much easier for
the enemy to slip up on our position unnoticed. All team members
remained awake while it was raining to help detect enemy movement
and to reduce reaction time if we were discovered.
Sound traveled faster and longer when the air was damp. Any
metallic sound or voice traveled easily. If we were in a static position
or moving, we had to be careful not to bump our weapon against a
tree or rock. The NVA often gave themselves away because they
tended to carry their pots and pans on the outside of their rucksacks.
These sounds often gave us advance warning. The team knew to be
careful and listen for the NVA to make a mistake. Around 0245 hours
we heard a small group move up the ridge.
Day 2
As daylight dawned on Christmas Eve, all team members were alert
and listening for the enemy. It wasn’t uncommon for the NVA to
attack at the Beginning of Morning Nautical Twilight (BMNT)—the
last vestiges of darkness were still present, but the enemy could see
for a short distance around them. This enabled them to move
relatively quietly and accurately and get very close to us before we
could see them. Throughout history, dawn has been a common time
to attack. We also knew that in general, humans tended to be the
sleepiest between 0300 and 0600 hours. We knew that BMNT that
morning would occur at 0555 hours outside the jungle and
approximately 0635 under the jungle canopy. We planned to begin
moving to our new observation position around 0700 if everything
seemed okay.
We had been moving for about 20 minutes when we heard the
“clack” of two bamboo sticks hit together approximately 200 meters
down the ridge and off to the east. Forty seconds later we heard a
response clack that seemed to be the same distance but on the west
side of the ridge. We had two trackers leading an NVA group up the
ridge looking for us and attempting to flush us out of hiding so they
could find us. This was not a good sign. To make it worse, we heard a
couple of dog barks. I scattered some CS powder around the path we
took as we moved toward the new observation point (OP). This
would definitely slow the dog down once it got CS powder up its
nose.
It took about an hour to get to the vicinity of the new OP. During
that time, we continued to hear the bamboo clacking. They were still
behind us. It was mid-morning and we had lost a lot of observation
time.
We did not go to the next cliff as planned. We continued up the
ridge past the cliff and found a rocky spot near the steep side of the
ridge where we could put an observer in a tree. Between the sounds
from the valley and what the observer could see from the tree, we
could give Covey enough information for the Air Force to act on. We
did a fishhook and came back to the rocks. I put out toe poppers and
CS where we turned to go back to the rocks. We set up our defensive
position and put Du in the tree. He was excited to get off the ground
and away from any more snakes. I didn’t mention the varieties that
liked trees.
 It did not take long for Du to start sending back information that
we relayed to Covey. By 1130 the first airstrikes started hitting the
area hard. This increased the NVA effort to find our location. The
clackers were coming closer. I was concerned the dog might hear us,
run ahead and move directly to us, missing the CS. I moved away
from the team where I could have a better view of the approach the
dog might take. I had been in position about 30 minutes when I
heard the dog coming toward us. I knew his handler and trackers
could not move that fast.
My Hi-Power .22 LR with integrated silencer pistol was ready. He
knew where I was and was running directly at me. I waited until he
was almost on me and hit him with four shots that put him down.
The first one hit him in the head. He did not make a sound. The
handler did not know which way the dog went in the thick vegetation
and knew he could not call for him.
Soon we heard the trackers, handler and a small group of NVA go
by us and continue up the ridge. That was close! We decided to stay
where we were for our RON. It did not appear to be a suitable
location for what we were doing. The trackers did not find us when
they went by, so it was best not to move just then. It was almost dark,
so we prepared for the evening, expecting more rain.
The traffic increased during the night and the F-4s made a lot of
strikes in the dark. So far this had been a successful mission. The
NVA were not getting a free day in this area. Santa was delivering a
lot of presents to the NVA on Christmas Eve! It was a noisy night, but
worth it. We had some heavy rains on and off, but the weather was
clear in between.
Day 3 (25 DEC) – We’re Busted!
It was Day 3—25 DEC 1968 (Christmas Day)! We moved from our
RON site back to the third and most distant cliff to set up our
observation. It had rained hard during the night, and the terrain was
slippery. We had to be careful. We observed a lot of traffic just after
we got in position and reported it to Covey. In less than 20 minutes
we had F-4s pounding them. We were able to provide targeting data
for about two hours before everything appeared to have been
destroyed.
The rain came back in, and we decided to take advantage of it and
move away from the cliff. The search parties were coming closer to us
each time they came by. It was early afternoon and we decided to
take a break for a while. We put out two layers of Claymores, and I
put out four toe poppers and two frag grenades with instant fuses
and trip wire. There were some strange trees in that area. I don’t
know what they were called, but they almost looked like big rockets
with fins. The roots came out of the ground and grew up the tree
maybe 2–4 feet like rocket fins, 2–3 inches thick in most places. We
were taking a break, and I thought I would lie down between the
roots, and no one would be able to see me unless looking at just the
right angle. I kept all my equipment on while we were taking a break.
We had been on the mission for three days. The Lomotil had done
a great job of keeping my pants up, but an urgent time had come. I
could go in my pants or take a chance and drop my pants. I chose the
latter. The ridge dropped off steeply for a few feet on the other side of
the tree. I felt like that was the safest place to go. I left my ruck and
squatted behind the tree. After depositing three days of poop and
covering it, I felt like a new warrior.
I quickly returned to my position between the roots and laid back
against my ruck. Two minutes later we heard a toe popper explode, a
loud scream, and almost simultaneously, a second toe popper
explosion, followed immediately by a barrage of AK-47 fire. Some of
it was in our direction, some of it in other directions. They didn’t
know exactly where we were, but in that first barrage, three AK-47
rounds came through the root on my left side and tore my shirt as
they went across my chest and through the root on my right side. I
had just exhaled. If I had just inhaled, the bullets would have taken
the top of my chest off when they came across me. They grazed me
just enough to draw blood. It was obvious that the roots were
providing just concealment, not cover. I had to get behind the tree. I
jumped behind the tree with my ruck (75 pounds) trailing me in my
left hand.
I heard another toe popper go off followed by a loud scream, then
the grenade I had left in that area with a trip wire. All the AK fire
shifted toward our position now. They were trying to flank us with a
group of about 20 NVA maneuvering around to our right to push our
backs against the cliff. The grenade I had put on my side exploded
and slowed their flanking movement. We had a full-fledged firefight
going on with more NVA coming down the ridge.
 Deck gave the command to detonate the first layer of Claymores.
It was a tremendous explosion as seven Claymores exploded
simultaneously. It was raining debris, dirt, pieces of trees, rocks and
body parts. A bloody arm landed right in front of where I had been
lying between the roots. A thick smoke and smell (strangely familiar)
covered the jungle. It temporarily stopped their assault, but the
automatic weapons fire picked up again. It was easy to tell that the
group was a lot smaller because of the lower volume of fire, but more
NVA were coming.
As soon as the team got near my position and below me, I was
getting ready to set off the other layer of Claymores when a B-40
rocket hit the tree in front of the one I was behind. Fortunately, my
ruck was still setting on the edge of the bank and provided me some
protection. It was riddled with small shrapnel. I ducked behind the
tree and set off the last layer of Claymores. This group only had five
Claymores (7.5 pounds of C-4 with 3,500 steel balls), but it ripped a
hole in the NVA assault. They were stunned—physically and
psychologically. I don’t think the NVA believed we had more
Claymores to set off. I also got another taste of the impact of
adrenaline. When I came out from behind the tree, I had to grab my
rucksack with my left hand. It weighed probably 75 pounds and I’m
not a big guy, but I tossed that rucksack around like it was a pillow. I
took it with me as we fought our way down the ridge and toward the
LZ, but I paid for it later on. After we got extracted, I realized I had
pulled muscles in my shoulder because they just weren’t designed to
handle that much weight. But I had so much adrenaline pumping
through my system I didn’t notice at the time.
 Cowboy had dropped off with me and was providing overwatch
fire as I scampered down to him. Deck and Jones were leading the
team down the ridge toward the LZ. The rocky terrain was providing
us some cover, but the NVA were able to take advantage of it too. As
soon as the first toe popper exploded, I had notified Covey that we
were in heavy contact and a Prairie Fire. Usually, Covey could have
assets on site within 30–45 minutes. But it was Christmas Day, a
holiday, and not a lot of assets were just hanging out nearby. It was a
good thing that we notified Covey right away. We needed Close Air
Support (CAS) and gunships immediately. We knew it would be a
while before things would calm down enough to get the extraction
ship in.
The NVA were not stopping. Cowboy and I went into a delaying
technique with Claymores on time fuses that we were becoming
pretty effective at using. The NVA appeared to have run right up on
the first delayed Claymore based on the screams and yelling that we
heard. Cowboy said, “VC angry!” My response was, “Good! That
means we’re really hurting them!” We left another one as we ran to
catch up with the team. We were shooting a lot of them, but it
seemed that it was taking 2–3 hits to put them down. Cowboy said,
“VC take drugs!” He must have been correct because they were hard
to stop. I noticed that three hits on automatic had a lot more knock
down power than three fast, individual shots. When I hit them on
auto they dropped immediately. I made a mental note to remember
this for later. Covey told me he had a couple of SPADs with 20mm
and napalm 20 minutes out. I updated our situation.
We were still receiving a lot of fire into our area as we caught up
with Deck. I updated Deck on what Covey said and about the
problem putting the NVA down. We had a steep grade to go down to
the LZ and no protection once we got there. We decided to stay
where we were in the rocks. Suddenly, things got quiet. Too quiet!
They were up to something. We decided to put out four Claymores on
the most likely avenues of attack. We redistributed ammunition and
moved our extra frag and WP grenades out of our rucks. We were
expecting a heavy assault to begin any minute. You could hear a pin
drop! Then, at a very low volume, I heard . . .
“Bravo Six, this is Covey.”
“Six, go.”
 “SPADs (A-1s) are here. Mark your position with smoke and tell
me where you want the 20 mike mike.”
I threw a smoke grenade and said, “Roger, smoke out.”
“Sandy Lead (the lead A-1) identifies yellow.”
“Six, Roger. Make first run northwest to southeast 100 meters
northwest of smoke. Danger close!”
“Roger. Keep your heads down!”
I heard the engines on the A-1s whining as they built up speed on
their way in, then the automatic weapons fire toward the planes,
followed by the chatter of each plane’s 20mm cannons spitting out
the HE rounds. That was followed by the exploding rounds. Some
were going off in the trees and some on the ground. Shrapnel was
flying everywhere, as were tree limbs, dirt and mud. I could hear
people screaming. Within seconds, the second A-1 opened fire. We
could tell from the screams that the rounds had found some of the
NVA. They knew it was now or never. The gun runs effectively
triggered the NVA assault on our position. We thought there were
20–30 of them left. It was closer to 200.
One thing I had learned is that if you are not moving, you are
dying because the NVA are maneuvering into position to cut off your
escape. The NVA had managed to move so that they had us flanked
on three sides. The only way we could escape them was to run into
the open LZ. They were assaulting. We set off four of our remaining
seven Claymores to slow their assault. Four simultaneous Claymore
detonations and 2,800 steel balls traveling 4,000 feet per second is
devastating to an assaulting force. It made the survivors stop and
think about coming after us.
I told Covey what was happening.
“Covey, this is Six. Have one SPAD put napalm where it made its
first gun run and the second to drop his napalm flying northeast to
southwest 100 meters north of the smoke. This is danger close. Do it
now and come back around with guns in the same place!”
“Covey, Roger. You guys take cover and take a deep breath. It’s
going to get very hot instantly! The gates of hell are about to open!”
“Six, copy that!”
Meanwhile we were being hit with a hail of AK-47 and RPD
(machine gun) fire and B-40 rockets. We returned fire and lobbed
frag grenades from behind the rocks. It was so smoky you could
barely see. When we heard the planes getting close, we each threw a
grenade, took cover and took a deep breath. The air was about to be
so hot it would fry the inside of your lungs.
The fire ball, heat and smoke were tremendous, and the napalm
sucked all the oxygen out of the air. Air was available, but it was hot,
smoky and choking and had no oxygen. We could see NVA running
around like human torches covered in fire and screaming. It
reminded me of the Jody call that started with, “Napalm, napalm
sticks like glue . . . .” We took out all the torches we could see as fast
as we could. It was the humane thing to do. We could hear a lot of
NVA screaming that we couldn’t see. The terrified survivors were
running back up the hill. Once you have seen the gates of hell open,
you do not want to see it again!
We were still receiving a lot of fire from the south.
“Covey, this is Six. That was fantastic! We are still receiving fire
from the south. Make one more napalm run 100 meters south of the
smoke flying northeast to southwest, danger close!”
“This is Covey, Roger. We also have four gunships five mikes out.”
“This is Covey, napalm 30 seconds out. Take cover!”
The napalm was once again surreal. The screams! The choking,
super-heated air! The smoke! The smell of burning and charred
flesh! We took out the human torches we could see. A couple of our
guys could not take the smell and could not hold back the vomit.
“Covey, this is Six, that was great! Creedence Clearwater Revival
should be here! The devil is on the loose! Have the SPADs make
another run on each side of us with the remainder of their 20 mike
mike and put the last napalm 200 meters up the ridge from our
position.”
“Covey, Roger. Gunships are on station and extraction bird is ten
mikes out.”
“This is Six, Roger. When the devil ships leave, have the gunships
work around the LZ as we move down to the LZ. I’m popping another
smoke so they know for sure where we are. Smoke out.”
“Covey, Roger. Gunslinger lead identifies green.”
“Roger that. We’re moving.”
Going down the steep part of the embankment I slipped and went
feet first into a big pile of fresh elephant poop. It was all over my
boots and pant legs, and it was ripe with a very strong odor. This was
literally a crappy day!
 Once we had suppressed most of the fire, we were able to bring in
an extraction ship. As we were lifting off, still under fire, Deck and I
both threw a red smoke grenade—meaning the LZ was “cleared hot,”
take out all living creatures. Covey worked the area over as we pulled
away.
“Covey, this is Dynamite. We really appreciate your help. We
could not have made it without you! Thank all of your assets for us.
See you back at the ranch.”
“Roger that, Dynamite! You guys did a great job today!”
As soon as we got far enough away from the LZ, and most of the
NVA fire had shifted away from us, I looked over at Deck to see his
big smile and thumbs up. He wasn’t smiling, and there was no
thumbs up! I thought, Crap! He must have been hit. I crawled across
the guys to get to him, grabbed him by the shoulder and asked,
“Deck! You okay?”
He slowly looked up at me and said, “Lieutenant, I’m done! This
was my last mission.” Then he looked away. I went back to my
position in the helicopter. A lot of questions popped into my mind. I
would talk to him more about this when we got to the launch site.
When we reached the launch site, I immediately went to him.
“What’s going on?” I asked. He said, “I’ve completed my mission
requirement and I’m going to move to a different job when we get to
CCN. I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t say anything about it. I’ll
tell the team when the time is right.”
We did a quick debrief and flew back to what was left of FOB 1.
We got there after dark to find the Mess Sergeant had saved our
Christmas meal for us—steak, if I remember correctly. It tasted really
good. But the best part was that FOB-1, even almost totally closed,
did not forget about us. Phu Bai was alright! But this was the end of
Phu Bai, FOB-1. It was being closed as an FOB and the teams
distributed around the other FOBs. We would be the last team out.
RT Idaho with John Stryker Meyer (“Tilt”) and Lynne Black
(“Blackjack”) had barely managed to escape from Laos that day too
and had already been transported to CCN. RT Alabama would rest
that night and fly to CCN the following morning.
I had been on four missions with RT Alabama in less than a
month. We were in heavy contact and a Prairie Fire Emergency each
time. I learned a lot from Deck, the firefights, Covey, Close Air
Support (CAS) from all types of aircraft, and others I talked to during
that time. I felt confident that I was ready to lead a team. SSG Deck
agreed and gave me a 1-0 recommendation. I was going to miss the
team and Deck, even though he was going to CCN with me. He would
be leaving the team for a non-operator role. I was being assigned to a
different team as a 1-0. I was excited about having my own team but
had grown close to Cowboy and the others. Deck and I would still see
each other from time to time, but we would both be busy in our new
jobs.
CCN was a much larger compound than FOB-1 with lots of
people, teams and activity. I had heard that they were experiencing
issues between some of the officers and NCOs. A lieutenant had been
killed on the mountain, and they endured frequent rocket and sniper
attacks. I was sure I would have to make adjustments, but it would
be an adventure.
Lessons Learned
If you can be heard, you can be found. If you can be found, the
team can be killed.
A three-round hit on auto had much more knock down power
than three rapid single shots.
Leeches are bad, but snakes can kill you. Du would have died if
bitten.
If you are not moving, you are losing the battle—you are in the
process of dying.
Claymores on time fuses stunned the assaulting NVA. It made
the survivors stop and think. They are human. They don’t want
to get shredded.
When napalm explodes it really does make you think the gates of
hell have opened.
When you are under a jungle canopy it’s hard to tell where the
napalm cannister will explode and where the napalm will land
after falling through the trees.
Napalm was a very scary and powerful weapon—the NVA hated
it.
The encounter with the banded krait helped me make the
decision to carry a KA-BAR as my primary knife. A little extra
distance between my hand and the snake’s fangs would have
been nice. The KA-BAR would also give me more ability to
“hack” if I need to cut limbs (wood or bone).

OceanofPDF.com
 PART 3

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 6
Command and Control North (FOB-4)

Without the uniforms, it could be a college frat party picture. Hard

to believe their job was so desperately dangerous that only being
wounded was a good thing. They had the power to call down death
from the sky. They operated in small teams far from friendly forces.
Alone in hostile environments. Yet here they are with young happy
faces. I’ve always told people the most dangerous men I knew were
really nice guys when they weren’t working.
—Russ Mann, FOB-3 & FOB-2, 1968

Teammates/Friends KIA/MIA JAN 69

SSG James M. Hall, KIA JAN 1
SP4 Wayne L. Hawkes, KIA JAN 1
SSG Michael J. McKibban, KIA JAN 1
 SSG Gerald F. Apperson, KIA JAN 8
SP4 Bill F. Williams, KIA JAN 8
FOB-4 at Da Nang transformed into Command and Control North
(CCN) in late 1967. It had only been in existence for about 18
months. This was a top-secret base belonging to MACV-SOG. It was
structured with the typical military headquarters organizations:
Command, S-1 (Personnel), S-2 (Intelligence), S-3 (Operations), S-4
(Supply), Medical, Meteorological, Aviation, etc., plus Recon
Company (with approximately 20 Recon Teams of 9–12 Operators
each and Hatchet Force Companies (with approximately 200
commandos each).
Recon Teams at CCN were assigned targets in the northern part
of southeast Asia. The Hatchet Force Companies/Platoons were
assigned larger targets requiring more firepower and staying power.
CCN also managed Marble Mountain with its two Combat
Outposts (COP). People had been killed on the mountain as well as
inside the caves. The COPs were attacked in some manner almost
every night. The mountain provided an impressive “light show” most
nights with red and green tracers, explosions and flares.
CCN was a large site located on the beach in Da Nang. The South
China Sea was about 100 meters outside the perimeter wire on the
eastern side of the compound. The south side was only 200 meters
from the base of Marble Mountain which jutted 450 feet straight up
out of the sand. CCN was one big sand lot. It was hit frequently by
rockets, mortars, sniper fire and occasional sappers. It was critical
that everyone knew where their defensive position was and how to
safely get there when the siren went off—usually in the middle of the
night!
The American mess hall had better food than you would expect in
a war zone. The indigenous population of CCN had their own mess
hall serving ethnic food. The ethnic groups (Vietnamese,
Montagnard, Chinese Hmong, Laotian) had their own eating
schedules. Unfortunately, the groups did not like each other.
Everyone in the camp was armed and if you did not space out the
feeding of the ethnic groups, it could easily result in a firefight in the
mess hall.
Recon Company
When I arrived at CCN, CPT Welch was the Recon Company CO, and
Campbell was the First Sergeant. I was welcomed to Recon
Company, processed in quickly, given a “Get out of jail free” card and
assigned as 1-0 of RT Michigan.
CPT Welch, the Recon Company commander spent about an hour
with me asking about my background, experience and my goals. He
was a black belt in martial arts and told me he wanted us to
incorporate that into team training. We seemed to get along well.
RT Michigan Prep
RT Michigan had a reputation as a solid team and had lost its last
two 1-0s. Unlike RT Alabama, RT Michigan was a Montagnard team.
Montagnard is a broad term left over from the French colonial period
in Vietnam that refers to tribes (mountain people/dweller) living in
the central highlands of Vietnam. They tended to be a little smaller
and darker than the Vietnamese and had their own languages (tribe
dependent). They grew up in the jungle and were very skilled at
living and fighting in the jungle environment.
In my experience with them, the Yards did not like the
Vietnamese. I would need to adapt from the Vietnamese culture and
superstitions to that of the Montagnards. For example, on day one,
Bargewell (the team 1-1), a few team members and I were walking
along the street in front of Recon Company when Chung the Yard
next to me reached over and gently took my hand. Bargewell saw the
shocked look on my face and quickly said, “He will be insulted if you
don’t hold his hand. He is offering his respect and friendship to you
as the new 1-0. It doesn’t mean anything else.” I continued to walk
down the street hand-in-hand with my new mercenary Yard friend. I
had a lot to learn.

RT Michigan Team Members

Name Position
LT Henry Thompson 1-0
SP4 Eldon Bargewell 1-1
SSG Joe Nash 1-2
Cantua Interpreter
Camba Pointman
Hieng M-79
Acat Tail Gunner
Aita Alternate Point
Chung Alternate Tail Gunner Scout 1
Scout 2
Scout 3
Nash had some team experience but had joined Michigan the day
before me. Eldon Bargewell was the 1-1 when I took over as 1-0. He
was a Specialist 4th Class (SP4) at that point and already had a solid
reputation. I had asked about Bargewell before I went to CCN.
Everyone I talked to said, “Bargewell is a very good Operator.” I also
found out that he had been asking about me.

I asked him the first day what he had found out. He said, “I talked
to SFC Jones—and I have total faith in him—and he said Thompson
is the only Lieutenant I’ve ever met that you can give a map and
compass to and he can give you 10-digit coordinates to where you are
standing. He can navigate to anywhere you want to go—and he’s
been proven under fire on several missions. You just don’t find
Lieutenants like that.” Bargewell said that was good enough for him.
I was impressed with Bargewell right from the beginning. He was
very knowledgeable and a great Operator. He had been at Khe Sanh
with a team during the siege of Khe Sanh. They were hammered for
77 days by a massive NVA force. Bargewell had recruited some of the
RT Michigan team members. This was a Yard team and they all liked
him and had a lot of respect for him. He was a smart guy. Everything
about him said warrior. I figured if he didn’t get killed, he was going
to be a legend in the Special Ops world at some point. Sure enough,
Bargewell remained in Spec Ops, SOG, Rangers, Delta and SOCOM
throughout his career and retired as a Major General and Special
Ops legend. We remained friends until his death on April 29, 2019.
At the Operations Center I met with the Operations Officer who
managed the area that RT Michigan would most likely be operating
in and got as much information from him as I could. I wanted to
know what the AO was like, what types of missions were most
common there, other teams that operated in this area and how soon
he thought we would receive a mission. He would not tell me about
other teams but did share about the AO. I knew I would get a lot
more information once we were assigned a mission.
I began to sketch out my plan for building the team trust required
for becoming the 1-0 of RT Michigan. I had a lot to learn about
Yards. They were different than the Vietnamese I had been working
with. My network consisted of Bargewell, Nash and other 1-0s of
Yard teams. It was going to be interesting.
Team Training
I had learned a lot from my onboarding with RT Alabama and how
things worked in combat. My plan for integrating into Michigan was
much better focused than with RT Alabama. I needed to assess RT
Michigan’s performance baseline and that of the individual
members. I would begin working from there to turn a good team into
a great team. All the components and talents were present. They just
needed to be fine-tuned.
I used my first day with RT Michigan to get to know each team
member, including Bargewell and Nash. I spent time on the range
learning how they had been taught to do different IADs, the
commands to initiate them, how they moved, what they did when
they stopped— enemy, break, security, etc.—hand and arm signals,
how they used Claymores and toe poppers, handled wounded, how
they set up and secured an RON, what they ate, how they ate and a
layout of the equipment they normally carried. I took detailed notes,
and in some cases, pictures. I needed to know where they were in
terms of basic operations. I tried not to look shocked with some of
what I saw them do. I would have to be very careful how I went about
modifying their tactics and teaching new ones.

That evening I ate dinner with Bargewell and Nash to find out
their thoughts about the team and its members, which gave me an
opportunity to learn about their knowledge, philosophy and beliefs
as they answered questions about the team. When I got back to my
room, I captured key thoughts about the team and my 1-1 and 1-2. I
realized I had a lot of work to do and could be given a mission at any
time.
I met Bargewell and Nash for breakfast to talk about the day’s
activities and get their buy-in. I laid out a general plan for the next
few days that would address some of the issues they were concerned
about and how we could take a really good team to the next level.
They added some great ideas and suggestions of their own. We were
coming together quickly as a team. They seemed to go along with
how I wanted to do it.
 That day we would focus on basic tactics, modifying some of the
IADs and doing some live fire on the range. The next day would be a
continuation and expansion of our operating procedures and live
fire. By the end of the week, we would be practicing all of our tactics
and SOPs in the jungle on Monkey Mountain. I thought, If we’re
lucky, we might even find some targets that shoot back!
One of the most important SOG Rules I had learned with RT
Alabama was you have to practice, practice, practice. One of the most
critical skill sets we had to know was the trauma ABCs: 1) Clear the
airway to keep the breathing, 2) Stop the bleeding (many SOG
members died from bleeding out), and 3) Control for shock. (Today
ABC stands for Airway, Breathing and Circulation.) I scheduled a
training session on each of these with the CCN medical team. The
team was okay with this training until we got to use the Ringer’s
solution. I made everyone practice putting in an IV. I went first with
Cantua inserting an IV in me. Then I did him.
When we went on a mission, we were out there for so long that
the Americans carried a 1-0 medical kit. This kit included
medications. All other team members carried an indigenous medical
kit, Ringer’s solution, field bandages, tourniquets, and triangular
bandages. When someone got hit and died, most of the time he died
from bleeding to death. If we could get the bleeding stopped in time,
the person might have a chance to survive.
My thinking was—especially after my first firefight when I was
having a hard time getting a magazine loaded in my weapon—I don’t
want one of my guys trying to put a needle in my vein for the first
time while he is being shot at and have him jabbing the needle all
over my arm while I’m lying there bleeding to death. It was also very
important to know how and where to apply a tourniquet. It’s more
difficult than it looks even if people are not shooting at you.
Practice was important, so we swapped partners and did it again.
Then again. Going forward, we would do this training before every
mission. Yes, the medics supervised us, kept us sterile and cleaned us
up after we finished. We could not afford to get an infection.
The best way not to bleed out was not to get hit in the first place. I
had been trained from day one in the military that, if you can be
seen, you can be hit. If you can be hit, you can be killed. It made
sense to spend some time on being “invisible” in the jungle. We even
created a signal for “be invisible” to keep invisibility top of mind.
Invisibility training is about how not to be heard, smelled or seen
(visually). There were no spices or sauces in meals, and to the degree
that we could, all meal containers were opened before the mission
(no tearing, wrinkling or any other container noise—no metal cans
from American rations).
This was not popular, but the team agreed to the rule. We actually
did some practice to be sure we could open what we planned to carry
quietly. We also replaced the snaps on canteen pouches with wooden
buttons. Silence and no smell were critical. During the last three days
before a mission there were to be no showers or soap—and wear the
fatigues you were going to wear on the mission after they had been
washed in plain water. Later we would add eating a similar diet to
the NVA during the last three days. What you eat has a lot to do with
fecal matter smell. RT poop needed to smell like NVA poop. During
our pre-combat inspection everyone (including me) had to jump up
and down to make sure nothing made noise.
We also practiced effective camouflage (no red scarves, unpainted
smoke or white phosphorous grenades, or bare metal on LBE, etc.).
We practiced movement techniques, e.g., lateral movement is the
easiest to spot. Even when moving directly toward the enemy, if you
turned your head from side-to-side looking for them, your face would
give you away. “Everything that gives you away gives the enemy
away.”
The NVA seemed to like to use dead foliage to camouflage
themselves and their positions—especially ambush positions. I
demonstrated to the team what foliage does when it is not getting
enough water—it turns the bottoms of the leaves up trying to collect
more water. The bottoms of leaves tend to be a lighter shade than the
tops. This lighter shade is very obvious when next to leaves with the
tops facing up/out. I think the team members knew this but had not
thought about it in terms of camouflage and trying to hide. Now they
would be on the lookout for vegetation that did not match.
We spent time on the range practicing with Claymores, learning
to set them up in “layers” and detonating them simultaneously. I
explained what a powerful weapon Claymores were and that I
wanted each person, except the point man and M-79 gunner, to carry
at least two (7 pounds) and most likely three (10.5 pounds)
Claymores instead of the one they had carried previously. This would
give an eight-man team approximately 24 Claymores, way beyond
what the “normal” SOG team carried. They also knew that the
blasting cap had to be kept separated from the Claymore until it was
deployed—and if they recovered the Claymore, they had to take the
blasting cap out of it.
We trained on using the Claymores (and two-pound blocks of C-
4) with time fuses so the 1-2 and tail gunner could more effectively
delay NVA who were chasing us. I also showed them what happens
when you set a WP grenade up against the front of a Claymore.
Stunning! But you had to make sure you were far enough away from
it when it detonated. It was best if the Claymore/WP were in front of
a tree facing the NVA. I trained everyone on how to use the delaying
tactics and let the team experience how long a 15-second and 30-
second time fuse burns. It sounds obvious, but they needed to
experience it a few times before combat. You don’t realize how short
15 seconds is when you have to get away from a Claymore with bad
guys shooting at you so the concussion doesn’t knock you
unconscious or kill you.
I also told the team that I wanted most of us to increase the
number of frag grenades we carried from five (4.4 pounds) to ten
(8.8 pounds) for each person except the point man and M-79 gunner.
With an eight-man team we would be carrying approximately 80
fragmentation grenades. We carried a lot of area weapons for their
large killing radius with shrapnel going out in all directions. Plus,
these weapons could kill more enemy at one time than a single bullet
from a rifle. The M-79 gunner carried fifty rounds of 40mm (25
pounds) and each team member carried eight rounds (four pounds)
for a total of 98 rounds of High Explosive, buckshot, CS gas, smoke
and flares mixed in based on mission requirements.
Monkey Mountain
When I asked Operations where I could train my team in a relatively
safe jungle environment, the closest and best option was Monkey
Mountain. This area was located on a peninsula, almost an island,
across from the Da Nang Bay. We could actually see it from CCN.
MAJ Sims in Operations said he could get a couple of Kingbees to
drop us off on a little beach area and we could walk up toward the
lighthouse and stop to train where we wanted to. We would need to
be careful to watch for Viet Cong who occasionally found their way to
the Mountain. This was exciting!
 I got with Bargewell and Nash and set up a morning insertion
with an evening extraction the following day. This would give us
almost two days of light and one night to practice. The team was
actually more excited about it than I thought they would be. The next
day was a good training day at CCN followed by packing for our
simulated mission. We planned to take the whole team and full
combat load to see how we handled the weight.
It was a simulated mission. We ran from the Kingbees into the
jungle, moved 100 meters and stopped for a security halt. Then we
processed our movement and what we got from the security halt—
smells, sounds, tastes, etc. Aita said he could smell a cooking fire
from the lighthouse even though we were a half mile away. They
were cooking fish. That started a lot of fruitful discussion.
RT Michigan Pre-Mission Training
(All team members)
Name Position
LT Henry Thompson 1-0
SP4 Eldon Bargewell 1-1
SSG Joe Nash 1-2
Cantua Interpreter
Camba Point
Hieng M-79
Acat Tail Gunner
Aita Alternate Point
Chung Alternate Tail Gunner
Scout 1 M-79
Scout 2 Gunner
Then we moved up the mountain practicing our invisibility,
stopping often to demonstrate techniques. The Yards had jungle
skills and readily shared them. They were beginning to see how we
were becoming a better team. It was a very hot and humid trip up to
the lighthouse. When we got to the lighthouse, we conducted a
surveillance of the area. After moving 300 meters away from it we
did a debrief of what we learned and discussed how we would attack
it, take a prisoner from it, etc. It was a good tactical discussion that
got the team thinking about tactics. We also got in a lot of practice
with all of our hand and arm signals.
We moved farther down the ridge and found a good RON site
while it was still light. The team moved in and set up the RON site
complete with Claymores. Then we did a walkthrough of likely
avenues of approach, how the NVA might attack the RON and how
we would defend it and escape to a RP during darkness. We practiced
using the running password, Hens Teeth. We occupied the RON
position and went through “wake ups,” and other security procedures
during the night. We ate shortly after first light and used the rest of
the day to practice IADs, tactics, fighting back on different types of
terrain, delaying actions, carrying wounded, etc., until time came for
the choppers to pick us up. We used the pickup as a simulated
extraction under fire complete with smoke.
When we arrived back at CCN we did a debrief and AAR of our
“mission” and what we had learned. Everyone, including Bargewell
and Nash, seemed pleased with the outcome of our training mission.
The AAR has unanimously been one of the most useful tools for all
the military and civilian units I have worked with over the last 50+
years.
The team was ready. The next morning, we received a Warning
Order for our first real SOG mission together. I was pumped.

RT Michigan Mission 1: Walk-In SOG #5 (12 JAN 69)

A team is more powerful than a group of individuals. Synergy:
1+1>2. Leadership creates the synergy that transforms individuals
into a team.
—Henry L. Thompson, Ph.D., 1970
Mission 1 Team Roster
Name Position
LT Henry Thompson 1-0
SP4 Eldon Bargewell 1-1
SSG Joe Nash 1-2
Cantua Interpreter
Camba Pointman
Hieng M-79
Acat Tail Gunner
Aita Alternate Pointman
My first mission as 1-0 of RT Michigan was to provide assistance to a
Hatchet Force Platoon, led by my friend CPT Glen Jordan, that
would be interdicting a resupply route. RT Michigan would be
operating across the road from the HF providing security, and if
necessary, reinforcements. The operation would begin with an
insertion of the Hatchet Force Platoon (45–50 people). RT Michigan
would conduct a clandestine insertion in a unique manner.
The plan called for RT Michigan to be inserted into Laos by
“walking across the border” from a 101st Airborne Division company
temporarily positioned at the border. Our plan was to dress like
members of the 101st and fly into their company area on a resupply
helicopter, as if we were replacement troops coming to join the fight.
They put us inside the perimeter but in a “hot” section. The
Company First Sergeant said, “You’ll need to dig in.” All of my guys
looked around and said, “We no dig!” I said, “You need to dig
fighting positions. You’re out here with a conventional unit, and
bullets will be going everywhere tonight. The 101st guys have not
seen you. You may be mistaken for VC/NVA in the dark tonight! You
need to dig in.” It was a good thing we did because the company got
hit hard that night. It was nice to be able to get down in a hole and let
the company fight it out with the bad guys.
While the team was digging fighting positions, Bargewell and I
met with the Company Commander, a platoon leader whose men
would be on the water resupply the next morning, and their Forward
Artillery Observer (FAO). I laid out our plan on a makeshift sand
table solely with “need to know” information. I included phase lines
(PL). For example, PL Snake, meant we had crossed the river. What
surprised the 101st coordination team the most was when I said, “I
want you to pre-plan and register 81mm mortar, 105mm and 155mm
howitzer artillery targets at these coordinates (marked on the sand
table). Name this one Target Monday, this one Tuesday, then
Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, respectively. All the targets
together make up Target Weekend. Preset all the targeting data now.
If we get in trouble, I’m just going to call the name of the Target and
‘fire for effect’ (to fire three rounds from all the artillery guns as fast
as possible) or ‘adjust fire.’ I’m not going to give you coordinates.
You must have these already pre-planned and registered. When I say
‘Tuesday,’ I expect to hear the rounds coming.” I had never been
close enough to the border to have friendly artillery on SOG missions
before. I would have NVA artillery fired at me on several occasions. It
was not a good feeling. This was going to be great. I planned for it. I
planned targets throughout our AO. The company coordination team
was surprised at the detail of our plan, even the Company
Commander. They had not heard anyone plan targets like that
before. We did it all the time in Ranger training. (Two years later, a
fellow Ranger Instructor would tell me that a friend of his who had
been a Company Commander told him about a Special Forces
Lieutenant who gave him the most impressive mission briefing he
saw during his tour in Vietnam.)
The next morning, just after first light, RT Michigan mixed in
with the water supply team members, dressed like them with steel
helmets, flak jackets, etc., and went down to the river to retrieve
water. When we got to the river, we changed into our “Batman suits”
and gave the water team our helmets and flak jackets. They put them
in bags and carried them back up with the water while we crossed the
river (South Vietnam–Laos border) into the jungle on our mission,
hoping that the NVA did not realize we had entered Laos.
Jordan’s Hatchet Force Platoon had been inserted much farther
out in the valley late in the afternoon the day before. Our insertion
was different than normal, but a cool way to do it. And it appeared to
have worked.
We moved quickly but stealthily away from the 101st. We had a
long way to go. I called in the PL “Snake” to the 101st FAO and
Covey. I was moving behind Camba, the point man, Bargewell was in
the middle of the formation and Nash at the rear in front of Acat, the
tail gunner. I liked to keep the Americans spread out to make it more
difficult to get all three of us at once. The terrain was thick and
mountainous. We wanted to get at least 200 meters before we did a
security halt. We needed to adapt to the jungle environment.
Fortunately, we didn’t have to get rid of the sensations of an hour
plus helicopter ride. We found a place at 225 meters that gave us the
security we wanted and far enough away from the river not to hear it.
The jungle settled down around us and we adjusted to our new
environment. I looked back at the team and gave the signal that we
were moving out. Bargewell and Nash gave a confirmatory head nod.
 Camba began to pick a route through the thick vegetation with
the least lateral movement relative to where the enemy might be. I
had spent a lot of time teaching the team about being invisible in the
jungle. Lateral movement made you visible very quickly. Over the
years, SOG lost a lot of point men and tail gunners. Being invisible
wasn’t just about sound. Camba was already good at invisibility and
was getting better quickly.
We continued to move until we got close enough to the road to
hear any traffic on it. We set up our security, Claymores, etc., and
began listening and reporting to the HF platoon by radio. I gave
Covey our PL for the day one observation point. After about an hour
we heard a group of 20–25 NVA pass by us moving rapidly up the
ridge. All indications were that they did not know we were in the
area. They seemed to be focused on the HF and did not notice us.
The enemy’s movement in the area seemed to be limited to the main
trails running along the center of the ridge lines.
At about 1630 we decided to look for an RON site. There were
trails everywhere, some more traveled than others. We found a site
that provided us the best combination of concealment and cover in
the area. Bargewell and Nash wanted to stay back down closer to the
river. I told them that would put us too far away from the HF. The
site we had found would provide what we needed for the night.
Claymores were the key. Neither one of them had been on a team
that carried the number of Claymores (20) and frag grenades (70) we
were carrying. I could tell there would be techniques we would be
using that would make them uncomfortable until they saw them
work. We set up and put the Claymores out in two layers like we
rehearsed during pre- mission training.
Just after dark, the NVA fired a half dozen mortar rounds at the
HF. Fortunately, we could hear them clanging and banging around
as they did their fire mission. The mortar rounds hit outside the HF
perimeter and did not cause any physical damage to the HF but did
scare them. They knew more would be coming. Bargewell and I got
under my poncho with a red pen light and looked at the map. We
estimated their position relative to Target Wednesday. I called Covey
and the 101st FAO.
“Covey, Xray Five. Stay two clicks southeast of Wednesday, over.”
“Covey, Roger. We are clear.”
“Eagle 26, this is Xray Five. Fire mission, over.”
 “Eagle 26, Roger. Send it.”
“Xray Five, from Target Wednesday, direction 350, drop 200.
Fire for effect, over.”
“Eagle 26, Roger, stand by.”
“Eagle 26, rounds in the air.”
“Eagle 26, Splash, over.”
“This is Xray Five, rounds on target! Great work. Thanks.”
In a matter of less than two minutes, we had sent a fire mission to
the 101st Airborne company FAO and had nine rounds of 105mm
high explosive in the air descending toward the location where we
had made an educated guess that the NVA were firing from. They
were seconds away from getting a dose of their own medicine. The
loud sound split the relatively quiet jungle when the rounds hit.
Their launch site was out in the relative open. The rounds were close
enough to the NVA to kill and wound some of them. The survivors
grabbed what equipment they could, along with the wounded, and
moved out quickly. I thought they figured that the HF had made a
lucky guess. We did not hear any more firing at the HF during the
night. The movement in our area did, however, begin to increase
around 0100. We went to 100% alert and enjoyed two hours of
steady rain.
Day 2
We started day two having had almost no sleep because there was so
much NVA movement in our vicinity after midnight. Fortunately, we
were in an area, although close to some trails, where the NVA would
have to step on us to find us. We just had to be quiet and not move.
Just before first light, the HF was hit with a mortar barrage followed
by a hard-hitting ground attack that included machine guns and B-
40 rockets. The mortars were firing from an area too far from our
location for us to pinpoint their position. The attack against the HF
lasted about an hour inflicting some casualties, but the NVA suffered
more.
When the HF contact was over, I asked Covey to look for and
send me any potential mortar sites he could find in range of the HF.
There were a few small clearings and openings in the canopy that
would allow them to fire their mortars. I plotted these and sent them
to Covey and the FAO so he could register these as targets. We would
be ready for them that night. I also told Covey, the HF and FAO that
I planned to engage movement on the ridge with artillery during the
day, a form of harassing and interdiction fire (H&I). We would try to
slow their daylight movement on the ridges under the canopy. Thus,
Covey needed to remain two clicks (2,000 meters) SE of Target
Wednesday to stay out of the line of fire.
The HF planned artillery targets on the road for use that night. It
was going to be a busy afternoon and long night. Cantua said the
team was not happy about being in the middle of so many NVA
moving around and us attacking them with artillery. “VC will start
looking for us. Not good!” I asked Bargewell to help calm Cantua and
the team down. I don’t think Bargewell and Nash were happy about
what we were doing either. They had not been on a team playing
such a deadly cat and mouse game!
We decided to remain in our current RON position for the
morning and see what kind of movements the NVA made. I could see
that everyone was getting tired and anxious. Just before noon, we
heard a relatively large group of NVA (we counted 52) coming up the
ridge, talking and making noise as if they did not suspect a team was
in the area. I alerted Covey to stay clear and gave the FAO a Fire
Mission with a standby and requested it be with the 155mm
howitzers because they had a much larger killing radius than the
105mm and I wanted to crush this group immediately. I needed to
wait until the NVA moved far enough past us that the artillery did
not drive them back down the ridge into us.
I was getting ready to say, “Fire for effect,” when they stopped
moving. Their trailing element was less than 25 meters from us. They
had stopped to eat. They spread out on the ridge with at least two of
them 20 feet or less from the team! I put the artillery strike on hold.
They were laughing, talking, banging pots and pans, building some
small cooking fires and acting like they were going to spend the day
there.
This really spooked the team. No one could move, cough, sneeze
or make any sound. We were frozen in place—mannequins! And we
were hungry and thirsty and needing to pull leeches off, scratch an
itch and breathe. Fifteen minutes went by, then 30, then an hour,
and they were still there. What were they doing? Did NVA take
siestas after lunch? I gave Cantua the signal of, “What’s going on?”
He signaled back “sleep.” Crap! We had 52 NVA taking a siesta 20
feet from us! I alerted Covey and turned the radio off. We could not
afford for it to make any noise or movement.
After about 15 more minutes they began stirring around. Finally,
they were going to leave! We could hear them talking, banging and
clanging around. Then the two closest to us began talking to each
other, turned and began slowly to walk toward us—without their
weapons— and stopped at the edge of our thicket, a couple of feet
from Camba, and began to pee into the bushes—on Camba! I was
sure they would either see him trying to move away from the pee or
he would shoot them. Either way, it was going to be the seven of us
against the 52 of them.
In the back of my mind I remembered that a couple of months
back, CPT Jordan’s RT had counted 252 NVA walk through their
ambush site, designed for 20 people, and more were coming, when
an NVA turned and peed on one of Jordan’s Yards. Yards hate
Vietnamese. The Yard promptly shot him. Jordan had no choice but
to initiate the ambush and have all of his team make a run for the
extraction site. The NVA were so stunned by the violence of the
ambush that it was a full five minutes before they began to return
fire. Covey counted over 80 dead NVA on the trail.
We all had our Claymore clackers in our hands ready to detonate
them if we were detected, just before we scampered down the hill. I
would be saying, “Fire for effect, danger close.” Fortunately, Camba
had the patience of Job. They did not see him, and he did not shoot
them.
The two NVA, laughing and joking, turned, walked back to their
gear, put it on, got back on the trail and were soon moving up the
ridge. The 155mm howitzer was known for firing a “short round” (a
round that doesn’t quite make it to the target) occasionally.
Fortunately, we were not on the gun-target line. If a round was short,
it wouldn’t drop on us. I gave everyone the artillery signal and for
everyone to get down. The team had not used artillery fire before. I
could tell by the look on their faces they were scared. Bargewell and
Nash were uncomfortable.
“Covey, Xray Five, stay clear.”
“Covey, Roger.”
“Eagle 26, this is Xray Five, fire for effect, danger close, over.
“Eagle 26, Roger, shot, over.”
“Eagle 26, splash, over.”
 In a few seconds I could hear that familiar sound of artillery
rounds screaming toward the earth from high above. Even if you
heard them, you could not get away! Then the whole jungle exploded
sending trees, boulders, dirt, body parts and shrapnel flying through
the air. And right behind that came the second volley. I doubted that
any of them were still alive, but if they were, they would be really
angry and running for their lives. They did not know if a third volley
was coming.
“Eagle 26, outstanding! Right on target. Estimated 52 dead NVA.”
I turned to the team and said, “VC dead!”
I sent a coded message to Covey and Jordan, “That’s 52 that won’t
bother us again.” We moved closer to the road and found an RON
site. Everyone was tired, and the team seemed to be even more
spooked. They were saying, “VC know we here. They look for us. Too
many VC.” This was the team’s first mission with me. They knew
Bargewell was crazy. Now they knew there were two crazies on the
team. The RON site provided us some cover and a concealed escape
route. We layered our remaining Claymores. We did not put out toe
toppers and trip wires because if the NVA hit those, they would know
we were there. Our plan was to let them walk through our perimeter
and not react unless they stepped on someone. We were going to be
at 100% alert all night. Time for the Americans to dig into their med
kits and get something to keep the team alert and eyes open. I shared
with Cantua. Within about 20 minutes all of our eyes were the size of
saucers. Our biggest problem would be staying still.
The team was not only listening to our surroundings, but for the
sounds of mortars firing. We needed a distance and direction.
Bargewell, Nash and I had our compasses ready to shoot an azimuth
as we estimated the distance. I had already shot azimuths on the map
from our location to the potential mortar sites Covey had found
during the day. When I shared the potential mortar locations,
distances and azimuths, Bargewell and Nash thought I was 150–200
meters off on our current location. I assured them there was no way I
was off more than a few meters. I described what was out in front of
us and told them we would go down to the road the next morning
and they would see I was correct.
Now it was time to slowly take the rice ball with mutton mixed in
it out of my pocket and enjoy my evening meal. I would have a little
water to wash it down and it would keep my stomach from growling
during the night. It was good and filling. We were at 100% alert. No
one was sleeping. Covey did a final check, and I keyed the hand set
twice to let him know we were okay. I had sent our location to him
shortly after we were down for the night—we hoped.
We heard a little movement, but not much until 2237. Vehicles
were moving on the road near one of our targets. I called Eagle 26
and put artillery where I estimated them to be. Jordan reported
seeing what appeared to be burning vehicles on the road. Then it was
quiet again.
At 0138 we heard the mortars fire on the HF. Bargewell, Nash
and I agreed on an approximate distance and azimuth. I had Eagle
26 send them a 105mm welcome packet. No more mortars from that
location. At 0230 we heard what sounded like a large group of NVA
(50–75) moving up the ridge. We didn’t want them to feel left out, so
I had Eagle 26 deliver a 155mm welcome packet to them. I think it
got their attention. We could hear screaming, yelling and some gun
fire from that area. They were obviously not happy with their
welcome packet.
You just can’t satisfy some people. No more movement from that
area the rest of the night.
At 0310 we heard more mortars fire on the HF. Bargewell, Nash
and I agreed on an approximate distance and azimuth. I had Eagle
26 send them a 105mm artillery welcome packet. No more mortars
from that location!
Day 3
It had turned into a long and busy night. We were all very tired, but
we knew they had to realize a team must be on this side of the road
and would be looking for us when it got light. The rising sun would
give us a new day to show what we could do. Our plan was to lay low
in the morning to see how the NVA were going to respond. It didn’t
take long. Around 1000 we heard a dog bark once about 900 meters
from us. They were trying to pick up our trail or have the dog hear us.
Fortunately, the wind was coming from his location toward ours.
This would make it more difficult for him to hear or smell us. And we
had not been in the area the sound came from. We continued to lay
low and silent.
Unrequested/Compromising Resupply
At 1410 we heard bad news from Covey.
“Xray Five, this is Covey. The launch site is sending a helicopter
to resupply your water, food and batteries. Your mission has been
extended. The chopper is ten mikes out. You will need to identify
your location, over.”
“This is Xray Five, Not going to happen! I say again. No way! We
have bad guys all over us. We cannot mark our location or receive
supplies. Send it away!”
“This is Covey. I sent your response to Quebec Tango 6. He said
it’s coming. Get ready to receive it. Sorry about that.”
“This is Five. I’m not marking our location.”
“This is Covey, the chopper has been ordered to drop the supplies
at your last known location.”
“This is Five. You know this is going to create a Prairie Fire! You
better start lining up assets. They are going to be on us like a chicken
on a June bug.”
I got Bargewell, Nash and Cantua together and told them what
was about to happen. It was not a pleasant conversation, and
probably too loud. In the end, I told them we could not stop our
position from being compromised and we needed to at least try to
hide the supplies so the NVA would not find them when they came
looking for us. We would not have much time.
In about five minutes we heard the “whop, whop, whop” of a
helicopter approaching fast. It was also accompanied by sporadic
gun fire. Suddenly, it was about 50 meters east of us and boxes were
falling through the canopy. The chopper left as quickly as it came.
More sporadic gun fire. Based on where the boxes hit, I decided to
split the team into an overwatch team and a recovery team. I took
Nash, Cantua and Camba with me to recover the boxes. Bargewell
kept the rest of the team in an overwatch position to protect us while
we frantically gathered the boxes, put them in a thickly vegetated
area and covered them with leaves. We carried the water back to the
team and quickly distributed it. We knew we had to get away from
that area as quickly as we could without compromising ourselves.
Enemy Contact
“Covey, this is Five, moving south fast. We can hear them coming.
We need air support here now! Calling artillery.”
 “Covey, Roger. Gunships 20 mikes out. Working on SPADs. Are
you calling a Prairie Fire?”
“This is Five, soon.”
“Eagle 26, Xray Five, fire mission, over.” “Eagle 26, send it.”
“This is Five, from Target Friday, direction 265, add 200, fire for
effect, over.”
“Eagle 26, shot, over.” “Eagle 26, splash, over.”
“This is Five, outstanding. More to come.”
We were moving fast toward an area that we could use for an
extraction LZ. Suddenly, Camba signaled, “Halt. Enemy!” Just as we
stopped, a barrage of AK fire came at us, hitting Camba. He went
down in the vegetation. Cantua yelled, “Camba hit!” I yelled “assault
front!” We needed to get on-line and assault beyond where Camba
went down so we could get him. As we got near Camba, we found
RPGs were coming at us. We had to get Camba and start moving
backwards. There were at least 20 or more NVA. As we were fighting
and trying to withdraw, I worked my way over to Camba. He was
bleeding badly. Bargewell was trying to stop the bleeding. Bargewell
personally recruited Camba when he was at Khe Sanh. He knew
Camba’s family. “Covey, this is Five, we’re in heavy contact with 20
or more NVA. We need help. Have at least one red head (code for
wounded). I’m declaring a Prairie Fire Emergency, over.” I shouted
over the background heavy volume of gun fire and men yelling.
“Roger that. Can you send up a flare? We don’t know exactly
where you are.”
“Roger, stand by.”
“This is Five, flare up, identify.” “This is Covey, identify blue.”
“This is Five, Negative. Negative! That is not us. Hammer it!
Sending up another one.” (Heavy volume of gun fire and men yelling
in background.)
“This is Covey, identify red.”
“Roger that. Stand by. Artillery coming in. Eagle 26, Xray Five,
fire mission, over.”
“Roger, send it.”
“From target Friday, direction 270, add 250, adjust fire, over.”
“Eagle 26, Roger. Shot. Over.”
“Covey, this is Five, make first gun run northeast to southwest
100 meters northwest of our flare after artillery fire for effect
impact.” I shouted over the gun fire, explosions and yelling.
 “This is Covey, Roger.”
“Eagle 26, direction 255, drop 100, fire for effect, over.”
“Eagle 26, shot, over. Eagle 26, splash, over.”
“Covey, this is Five, run the guns, over. Rounds on target. Great
job, 26.”
“This is Covey, guns are hot, over.”
“Five, Roger. Run them now!”
The NVA had cut off our route to the possible LZ. And their
numbers were increasing. We made it into some rocks. They were
trying to flow around us. Bargewell had Camba’s bleeding under
control and gave him Ringer’s solution to get some of the volume
back in his blood.
“Covey, this is Five. This is as far as we can go. Run the guns
again. Same place. We need a string extraction if you can get it here
fast enough. These jokers look like a giant amoeba flowing around
their dinner. I want to give them indigestion. I really appreciate
Quebec Tango’s resupply of food. He should be here with us to enjoy
it, over.” I was sure QT6 could hear what I was saying, even with the
heavy volume of gun fire, explosions and men yelling in the
background.
String Extraction
“Covey, Roger. Guns coming back around. Working on strings.
SPADs
here in five mikes.”
“Roger. Getting ready.”
“This is a thick canopy. Not sure they can get the strings
through.” “Roger. I’ll notify Casper Five.”
Extraction on strings through double canopy jungle was rough.
We would be dragged through the limbs of the trees and treetops.
The aircraft would always start to go forward before we were above
the canopy and then we were being dragged through it.
“This is Casper Five. We are here to do some fishing. Ready to put
four lines in the water. The McGuire rigs have been removed. Watch
for the sandbags.”
“Xray Five, Roger. Move 12 o’clock 40 meters and 3 o’clock 20
meters.”
“Roger. Moving. Taking fire. Might not be able to stay. You guys
hurry up.”
 “You’re over the fish bed. Drop the lines.”
We were receiving heavy fire and the extraction aircraft did not
want to stay over us long. The “strings” would be 120-foot-long nylon
ropes with a sandbag on the end of each to get them through the
canopy. If they left the McGuire rigs on the ropes, they would hang in
the canopy. This meant we had to use our nylon utility ropes
measuring 12 feet to make Swiss seats while lying down and getting
shot at then hook on to the ropes while we were lying on the ground.
While this was going on, four people would not be returning fire at
the NVA. Bargewell’s first group to be extracted were tossing some of
their loaded magazines in a pile for my group to use. We were
quickly running out of survival time. The hourglass had almost run
out of sand. I really didn’t think there was much of a chance that my
group would get out.
I put Bargewell, Nash, Camba and Acat on the first aircraft’s
strings. I wanted the two Americans, Camba and Acat out! I couldn’t
help the group get hooked up because the NVA were starting to
charge our position. I was shooting some of them within ten feet or
less of our perimeter, and some even inside our perimeter! My
magazine ran out just before one of them jumped over my rock and
landed on me. I terminated him with my KA-BAR to his neck, hitting
his carotid artery, as he landed on me. We were receiving a heavy
volume of fire. The NVA realized what we were trying to do and were
really trying hard to kill us and shoot the helicopter down. It wasn’t
every day they got a chance to shoot at a helicopter 100 feet in the air
and not moving! We had to be careful not to use our grenades up too
quickly. We were going to be fighting for a while!
“Casper Five, you have four fish. Go! Go! Straight up FAST. Have
your door gunners flood the Willie Pete you are about to see,” I
shouted over the gun fire, explosions, Yards and NVA yelling.
“Roger.”
I threw a white phosphorus grenade as far as I could toward the
main body of the NVA. WP grenades were big and heavy and had a
large bursting radius. I had to get it far away from me before it
exploded, which was not easy while receiving a heavy volume of fire
and idiots diving on me! The WP grenade created a dense white
smoke with small chunks of WP landing on and burning through the
NVA. The dense white smoke provided some concealment for
Bargewell’s group and acted as a choking agent burning the NVA’s
lungs.
“Casper Five, this is Xray Five, Take them straight up, over!”
“This is Casper Five, we’re taking hits! We have to get out of here.”
“This is Xray Five, have your door gunners move their fire 25 meters
north of where they are currently firing, over.” “Casper, Roger!”
The door gunners continued to return fire. I could see the red
tracers coming down to the ground, and I was on the radio trying to
adjust the door gunner’s fire, because I could see where the NVA
were on the ground. I was trying to get Cantua and Hieng ready to
hook on to the next set of ropes—if there was a next set. I returned
fire at the NVA as I talked to Covey to tell him where I needed the
gunships to make their runs while I was dodging bullets. I saw that
Camba, Nash, Acat and Bargewell were getting beat up going
through the tree limbs. I couldn’t help them now. They would have to
survive the ride to the fire base.
“Covey, have the guns make a run on the east and west sides of
Casper Five going from north to south. Danger close, over.”
“Roger. Keep your heads down. There will be some 40 mike mike
mixed with guns.”
“Five, Roger.”
I had maxed out at multi-tasking, writing call signs and azimuths
on the palm of my hand and the right thigh of my pants as new
players arrived! In the back of my mind, I knew that I had to replay
Bargewell’s scenario again as I tried to get myself, Cantua and Hieng
out with almost no fire power on the ground. Two of the fun things
SOG 1-0s got to do were to be the first person off the aircraft into the
firefight and the last one off the ground during the extraction. But
that was what SOG 1-0s did. First in, last out, or FILO—a
manufacturing term I would learn many years later.
Bargewell and his part of the team were through the canopy and
out of sight. Now the enemy fire really picked up. The NVA knew it
was just me and a couple of Yards. They were flanking us and trying
to get in a position to overrun us. I used the grenades the departing
team members left for us. Even if we were not preoccupied with tying
a Swiss seat on and trying to get hooked up and out, we would not
have enough firepower to fend off the number of NVA who now had
us surrounded. The extra grenades we brought had literally been life
savers, but they were almost gone. People used to ask me why I
carried 50 magazines of ammunition. I did it for situations just like
this. I tossed some of my magazines to Cantua because he was out of
ammo. I tossed my last bandoleer of 40mm ammo to Hieng, my M-
79 gunner. I always kept the M-79 gunner if we had to split the team
so I would have the additional firepower of the 40mm grenades.
I only had a couple of frag grenades left and the NVA were getting
ready to assault again. I got out my two-pound blocks of C-4 and
inserted the blasting caps that had been crimped on the time fuses
with fuse ignitors. I only had one Claymore left. I set up the
Claymore facing the direction of the most NVA, unrolled the wire
and put the clacker under the rope on my hip so it would be fastened
to me, and I could reach it to detonate the Claymore. My plan was to
set it off just before I got to the end of the wire (100 feet) as I was
lifted up. Even if none of the 700 steel balls hit anyone, it would
distract them for a few seconds. I also left an Eldest Son AK-47
magazine in the magazine vest of one of the dead NVA I had shot
inside our perimeter. I’m sure one of his buddies took his magazine
and had an exploding brain day when he used the Eldest Son
magazine.
The gunships were keeping most of the NVA back from us, but a
few were moving closer to us. They wanted to literally hit us and
maybe the helicopter as we were being lifted up. I had always told my
guys, if you are not moving, you’re dying! And here we were. We
couldn't move because we had to wait to be lifted up on strings
through the canopy. Our death seemed to be rapidly approaching.
We had only three courses of action at this point: 1) Try to survive
getting lifted out on strings—if the pilot was willing to try while
receiving so much fire; 2) Try to break contact and disappear into the
jungle and hope to be found alive in a few days; or 3) Make a stand
here until we ran out of ammo, then throw a red smoke grenade
indicating that the gunships and A-1 Skyraiders were “cleared hot” to
totally destroy our current location and take out as many NVA as
they could. I didn’t like the third option!
I decided to have the gunships make two more passes, but much
closer to our position, and have the extraction ship follow right
behind them. We would fasten to the ropes as fast as possible and
give the clearance to lift us out. I would provide covering fire while
assisting Cantua and Hieng in hooking up. If I had time and was
able, I would fasten on. If I couldn’t for some reason, (wounded,
dead, too much fire) I would send Cantua and Hieng out, stay behind
and implement course of action two or three.
“Xray Five, Casper Four, we are dropping ropes now.” “Roger.
One is hung in the canopy.”
Fortunately, we only needed three. Cantua and Hieng hooked on
to their ropes while lying on the ground behind the rocks. The gun
runs were just about on top of us, and they took out a few of the guys
who had crept up on us. I didn’t have to help Cantua and Hieng very
much, so I just provided covering fire.
“Casper Four, Xray Five. Take us up now! Straight up!”
I told Casper Four to lift off as I was still trying to fasten on to the
rope. I was holding on to the rope with one hand and trying to fasten
on with the other while it was starting to drag me. Cantua and Hieng
were lifting off the ground when an NVA jumped up and grabbed
Hieng by the ankles. Above the noise of the gunfire and explosions I
could hear Hieng and Cantua calling me for help, “Trung Uy! Trung
Uy! Trợgiúp! Trợ giúp!” (Lieutenant! Help!) My rope was about ten
feet longer than Cantua’s and Hieng’s ropes, and I was still on the
ground. I instinctively put a four-round burst in the NVA, then
thought, wow. We might have had a prisoner! I managed to get
linked in with a death grip on the rope just as it tightened up and
started to lift me off the ground. It pulled me off balance and I fell
over, bounced off a rock and lifted off the ground exposing me to all
the NVA. They shifted their fire toward me. I could hear the rounds
cracking by me and feel pieces of rock hitting me that were chipped
off by bullets. Fortunately, I was being initially pulled into thicker
vegetation and up making it more difficult for them to see me.
 We were taking a lot of fire. I felt two really hard hits to the back
— one in the radio and one in the upper left chest. It knocked the
breath out of me. It really hurt but I did not think the bullets
penetrated me. I was still alive, and that was good! As I neared the
end of the Claymore cord, I detonated it. I was almost directly above
it. It was very loud and actually took out some of the NVA and
stunned me a little.
I was having difficulty shooting accurately, or even into the right
place, because I was twisting and turning and hitting limbs. I
dropped two of the blocks of C-4 with 15-second time fuses. They
made a lot of noise. Now, the NVA were behind me, and it was
difficult to shoot in that direction. I could tell both Cantua and Hieng
were hit because blood was dripping down on me. I had no idea how
badly they were wounded. Both seemed to still be alive. I tried to
radio Casper and Covey, but the PRC-25 radio, which had been hit by
two AK-47 rounds, would not work. I tried to use my URC-10
survival radio, but it had been hit with a large piece of shrapnel and
was not working. It was covering my heart. I was very fortunate that
it stopped the shrapnel. At least that part worked. But this left me
with no way to communicate with the helicopter or Covey.
It was a long ride back to the first safe place to land the
helicopter. And to add to the fun, we flew over several anti-aircraft
positions. But it felt good to be off the ground. We were soaking wet
from all the sweat, but the air going by us felt good—at first!
Now we had to get past the anti-aircraft fire. Suddenly, I was
freezing. We were flying at 7,000 feet—AGL (Actual Ground Level),
not sea level—hanging on the end of a rope and freezing to death (we
were used to 100 degrees/100% humidity, not 75 degrees with a 100
MPH wind.) And it just kept getting better. I looked up. I was
swinging back and forth, and my rope was rubbing on the edge of the
floor of the helicopter. We were at 7,000 feet to avoid some of the
anti- aircraft positions along the route. We had a long way to go, and
I could see that my rope was starting to fray from sliding back and
forth on the edge of the floor. Were we going to get to a place where
they could set us down before the rope broke? This ran my arousal
level up a little. I was shivering, my teeth were chattering, and I
could feel my legs going to sleep because the Swiss seat was cutting
off the blood supply to my legs. I knew that when we got to a safe
place to set down, I wouldn’t be able to use my legs. Someone would
have to pick me up and put me in the helicopter.
We planned to set down at an Artillery Fire Base just across the
border. Bargewell and the first part of the team had already landed,
been put inside their helicopter and were continuing toward the
launch site. This was a real treat for the fire base guys. They never
got to see a helicopter with people hanging underneath on ropes.
And never, ever did they see helicopters coming from the Laotian
side of the river, especially not with people hanging under them.
Medics were standing by to treat Cantua and Hieng as soon as we
landed, along with a couple of people to carry me to the helicopter
and put me inside.
 As soon as I got near the ground, two members of the fire base
caught me and began asking me if I was okay as they moved me to
the helicopter. One wanted to know if we were the people they were
providing fire support for over the last couple of days. I said yes and
thanked them profusely. I told them they saved our lives and to make
sure they passed our thanks to all the members of the fire base and
that they did not see us!
As soon as Cantua and Hieng were ready, the rotor RPM
increased, the aircraft began to vibrate and as we were starting to lift
off, I saw a soldier running toward the aircraft holding his hand high
in the air holding something. He thrust it up to me just as we started
moving. He had taken a picture of our aircraft coming in with one of
those new Polaroid Instant cameras! I grabbed the picture at the last
second, and yelled, “Thank you!” as we flew away. Over 50 years
later, I still have that original picture and have no idea who gave it to
me.
Fortunately, Cantua had flesh wounds to the side and arm. Hieng
had been shot through the thigh, but it had missed the bone and
artery. Nothing too serious. They would both live to fight more
battles. As we flew back to the launch site, I thought to myself, just
another day in SOG. But then I remembered, the day was not over!
Mission Debrief
I was not happy about the resupply. CPT Welch, the Recon Company
Commander, had flown to the launch site to be part of getting RT
Michigan out, to talk to me before I talked to MAJ Sims, and to
attend the debriefing to make sure things (me) did not get out of
hand. He told me before we went inside to stay calm, remember I
would be talking to a Major and not to hit or shoot anyone. And to
make sure the team did not either. He said we would discuss what
happened with LTC Warren, the CCN Commander, when we got back
to CCN that evening. LTC Warren would deal with the launch site
commander. I still expressed my displeasure about the resupply
during the debriefing. RT Michigan’s location was confirmed to be
where I said it was.
When the debriefing was over, the real news came. MAJ Sims
said for me to get the team ready to go back out; they were going to
reinsert us at first light! I almost lost it. CPT Welch immediately
stepped in and said, “They have three people wounded! The team
can’t go back out at first light. We would have to find, equip and fly
four replacement Michigan team members from CCN up here
tonight. None of the current team members have slept for three days.
It’s not possible to put Michigan back out in the morning. LTC
Warren is not going to approve this! And you need to extract the HF
before they get overrun by the NVA.” There were some heated words
between CPT Welch and MAJ Sims.
I assembled the team and told them the launch site wanted to
send us back out at first light. Cantua said, “Team no go back out.
Too many VC. Too many team wounded.” Bargewell, Nash and I got
together to discuss the situation. While we were talking, we heard a
single gunshot. Acat had shot himself in the foot while cleaning his
weapon! He could not go back out. I don’t believe it was an accident.
His story of how it happened was flaky. I think it was a show of team
solidary, that they were not going back out the next morning.
After about an hour, RT Michigan’s mission for the following day
was cancelled and the decision was made to extract the HF at first
light. Now it felt like just another day in SOG. But we still had to fly
back to CCN the next day after we picked up the Yards from the
hospital. The hospital and treatment of Yards was another story for
another time.
After Action Review Summary
Wounded Team Members
Member Type of Wound
Camba Bullet through left shoulder
Cantua Bullets through arm and side
Hieng Bullet through thigh
Acat Accidentally shot in foot
The insertion into the AO went as planned and we were
successful in our mission until the unexpected/unneeded/
insane resupply. The mission ended at that point.
Using mortar and artillery support from the 101st was great for
the mission and a literal life saver. It worked great. Too bad we
didn’t have this type of fire support on all missions.
Extra frags, Claymores and ammunition were also life savers.
The extra weight did not present a significant problem, but we
needed to work on a fitness program like I had started with RT
Alabama.
The team really did a great job with security halts, movement,
security, RONs and eating.
Our weakest area was putting on Swiss seats lying on the ground
under heavy fire. It took much longer to put the seats on in this
situation compared to the way we had trained. The loss of
firepower during these periods almost allowed the NVA to win.
We had to train and look for other solutions.
We needed to evaluate our med kits (American and Indigenous)
to determine what and how much we needed to have with us.
One compression bandage per person was not enough. When
you had a wound with an entry and exit point, or multiple
wounds, you needed more bandages. We needed more medical
training and practice with techniques like inserting IVs under
fire. Bargewell did a great job, but all of us needed to be at least
that good. We scheduled additional medical training with the
medics the following day.
One wounded team member and someone to assist him reduces
the fire power of a six-man team by 33% or more. It also
significantly slows the team’s speed and ability to maneuver.
We needed more practice in the three combat fundamentals:
shooting, moving and communicating, especially in thick jungle
vegetation.
We needed to add/define more single word “contact”
commands.
For example, “assault” always meant forward, toward the
enemy. It also meant to become much more aggressive. Go after
them. Hunt them down and terminate them. I could always add
“left” or “right” if I wanted to maneuver around the enemy.
We needed to practice fighting techniques, e.g., grenades, C-4,
smoke, WP during string extraction.
Fear is one of the most powerful emotions we have in our
arsenal. It can stop us in our tracks, make us run away, or like
General Patton said, “Go through the enemy like crap through a
goose.” Respect, control, manage and use fear to defeat the
enemy.
If you are not moving, you are dying.
Everything—movement, smell, etc.—that gives the NVA away
gives you away—eliminate what you sense from the team and
“sense” the NVA.
When we get low/on the ground we can’t see each other or the
NVA.
If you don’t get low, you get hit.
We had to work on functioning as a team even when we couldn’t
see each other—have a mental 3-D picture of the battlefield.
Don’t keep shooting from the same place—shoot and move or
they will take you out.
There are always multiple people shooting at you, or at least in
your direction.
Keep shooting. Keep moving.
Redistribution of ammunition is very important.
Practice throwing grenades from the prone position—especially
WP (because it is heavy).
Consider the impact of the following on your senses—vision,
hearing, smell, touch and taste: Avgas; smoke; gunpowder; dust;
dirt; mud; rock chips; rain; sweat; thirst; pain; bleeding; heat;
cold; hot weapon; fear; stress; wounded/dead teammates; a
teammate’s blood/guts/brain matter in your face.
My radios literally saved my life by stopping bullets. My URC10
survival radio over my heart stopped the deadly piece of
shrapnel.
There tends to be a pattern in our mission cycle.
Post-Mission Training
RT Michigan Post-Mission 1 Training JAN 69
 RT Michigan Mission 2: PW Snatch SOG #6 (20 JAN 69)
Mission 2 Team Roster
LT Henry Thompson 1-0
SP4 Eldon Bargewell 1-1
SSG Joe Nash 1-2
Cantua Interpreter
Pua Pointman
Rapun M-79
Chung Tail gunner
Aita Pointman
The team was banged up pretty badly from the last mission. Cantua
was adamant that he was okay and would be going on the new
mission. Camba, Hieng and Acat would not be healed in time to go.
All who were physically able would, however, be allowed to
participate in most of the Pre-Mission Training (PMT). For this
mission, the team would be me, Bargewell, Nash, Cantua, Aita,
Chung, Rapun and Pua.
Mission
Our new mission was to conduct a prisoner snatch from area Oscar
8. We had an insertion date of 12 JAN 69. That would not give us
much time to prepare.
Mission Prep
The more I learned about and experienced SOG missions, the more
security conscious I had become. I was so concerned about Soviet
satellites watching us train for our missions in the big open area next
to CCN that I requested and received a satellite fly-over schedule. I
also scheduled time on Monkey Mountain to allow us to train in
terrain similar to our target area—and out of sight of satellites. We
would actually conduct live fire ambushes to make sure there was
only one “hole” in the kill zone (KZ) and we did not put too much C-4
in the hole.
The KZ of an ambush is set up so that no one who is in this area
should survive when the ambush is initiated. The hole in a KZ is used
in a prisoner snatch or high value target acquisition to prevent killing
one to two enemy soldiers. This hole normally has a blast wave
running through it to knock the potential prisoners unconscious.
We spent every day practicing and working on the weak areas
described in the AAR plus mission specialties. The three primary
snatch techniques were raid, ambush and stealth, and there were
variations of each. An example of one other technique was to follow
closely behind a B-52 strike. Most NVA who were still alive were
usually stunned from the concussions and relatively easy to capture.
If they were not dead or stunned, they were not happy and intent on
taking their anger out on the team.
First, we would walk through our basic mission plan with the
team from start to finish. The next day we would begin to get specific
and practice what we were going to do with priority going to the
ambush snatch technique.
Bargewell, Nash and I continued our discussion of the mission
over dinner in the mess hall that evening. All three of us would look
for other teams that had conducted snatch missions, intentionally or
not. Sometimes you just stumbled upon an opportunity. We also
discussed that, with the exception of Cantua, Nash and I had no
combat experience with the other Yards because they were not on the
previous mission. Bargewell shared what his experience with them
had been up to that point, which was helpful. After dinner we set off
to see what we could learn from other operators with experience.
Next Day
The next day, Bargewell, Nash and I spent the morning planning the
details of the mission while the team was preparing and cleaning
their equipment. We gave the ambush snatch technique priority
because we had a better chance on this mission of setting up an
ambush than using the other two techniques. Oscar 8 was known for
its density of NVA activity, thus, finding a group on a trail we could
ambush was highly likely. The difficulty with operating in Oscar 8
was trying to get out after you were detected. Oscar 8 had a
reputation for making whole teams disappear without a trace. Teams
went in and were never heard from again.
To make things more difficult, the NVA in this area would do
anything to stop us from getting out with a prisoner—to include
killing the prisoner of war (PW) themselves. The potential prisoner
would be terrified and would fight to the death to prevent being
taken. We could expect him to kick, bite, headbutt, scream, yell for
help, and use anything he could find as a weapon, to include taking
one of our knives, pistols, grenades, etc., and using it against us. He
would kill himself before surrendering. So, while catching an NVA
was difficult, keeping him alive was even more difficult, and getting
him back to the launch site alive even more so.
To get out with a prisoner required all the tactical pieces, e.g.,
Covey, gunships, TAC Air and extraction ships to be in place before
we initiated the capture. Then with deadly surprise and violence of
action we would stun, secure, drug, head-bag, gag and move the PW
to the extraction LZ as quickly as possible. His ultimate level of fear
would cause his blood to be replaced with pure adrenaline. At that
point, his physical size would bear no resemblance to his
extraordinary physical strength and lack of ability to feel pain. He
would fight and delay us every step of the way. Anyone involved in
subduing and/or transporting him would look like they had tangled
with a mountain lion.
What all this meant to us was that we had to plan, train and
prepare ourselves mentally for the process of bringing our prisoner—
and our team—back alive. This was not the same as shooting and
killing an NVA. This was hands on, up close and personal “killing” of
a human being psychologically while fighting to keep him alive
biologically. It would be an experience none of us would likely forget
for the rest of our lives.
We had to find a well-traveled trail that we could watch for a
couple of days to determine the frequency of use, how many people
were traveling together, how they were armed, their spacing,
security, etc. We would set up an interlocking, detailed, deadly and
stunning ambush with a hole in the KZ. No bullets would be fired
into this hole, but there would be a demolition charge aimed to fire a
blast wave through it more than capable of rendering anyone in the
hole unconscious—unless we used too much C-4! The rest of the NVA
in the kill zone would die instantly.
I would initiate the ambush when the lucky person was in the
hole. Specified team members would leap into the hole to handcuff,
gag, head bag, drug (with morphine syrettes), search and begin
moving the prisoner toward the extraction LZ. He would be
questioned along the way. From the initiation of the ambush until we
were moving should take less than two minutes. This meant practice,
practice and more practice—day and night. If we were taking more
than one PW it would take longer. If we had only one PW and had to
stop severe bleeding, it might require us to spend longer in the kill
zone. That would be very dangerous, and maybe even deadly for
some or all of our team members. The ambush and follow-on actions
would be an extremely high stress event with a constant flow of life
and/or death decisions in rapid succession. Past experience told me
that almost nothing would go as planned.
We would actually set up three ambushes. The middle one would
be for the PW. The first and third ones would be for any reaction
forces that tried to come from up and/or down the trail to help the
middle group. These two ambushes would be mechanical with no
people at the sites. We could not allow any NVA to catch us in the kill
zone securing the PW or searching the bodies of NVA killed in the
ambush. We would detonate any remaining explosives in all ambush
sites as we left for the LZ. We would not have time to recover the
explosives and could not leave them for the enemy to use against
other teams.
Our training and practice at Monkey Mountain would include
how to handle a conscious or unconscious PW and multiple PWs. We
would not take more than three PWs. All other NVA would be dead.
The PWs would most likely be temporarily or permanently deaf from
the explosions. This would hinder our initial and later interrogations.
We had to make sure that none of our team members had permanent
hearing loss. Shielding them from the blast waves was critical.
Every team member had a specific job to do and had
understudies/ backups for their job. Team members were cross
trained in several jobs. It was possible that we might have wounded
and/or dead team members. We had to be prepared to handle those
casualties in addition to the PW(s).
As stated earlier, every contingency required practice, practice
and more practice. The stress level would be so high and the decision
times so short that we could not make a mistake. We had to be able
to do everything blindfolded and in the dark. The three ambushes
would actually be set up in the dark.
Some of the special equipment included daisy-chained Claymores
— when one goes off, all in a chain detonate simultaneously—with
extended detonator wire, specially rigged C-4 charges, head bags,
morphine, medical gear, handcuffs, gags, ankle ropes for PWs, pre-
tied Swiss seats for PWs, etc. We needed extensive practice for each
phase of the PW capture—from setting up the ambushes to knowing
what each team member was carrying and how to find it on his body
in the dark. A personal change I had made for this mission was to
wear Army- issued leather gloves with half fingers (I cut the fingers
off). I wore them during all practice sessions to get used to them and
finalize my decision to wear them. The gloves would give my hands
more protection against thorns, critters, leeches and especially the
heat coming from the hand guard on my CAR-15. In heavy firefights
the hand guard became too hot to hold bare-handed. I had talked to
a number of operators and 1-0s to get the pros and cons and was
eager to see whether the gloves worked for me.
After lunch we met with the team and laid out our plan. The team
members had a lot of questions, some of which would be answered as
we demonstrated some of the actions and techniques. We rehearsed
the ambush in the company area in between Soviet satellite flyovers.
We did not want the Russians to see and recognize what we were
planning. We spent the rest of that day focusing on the execution of
the ambush and PW recovery and transport. Then practice, practice
and more practice! The next morning Nash would continue the
practice sessions while Bargewell and I conducted a visual
reconnaissance of the AO.
Visual Reconnaissance
Bargewell and I left out of Da Nang airfield at daylight in an Air
Force O-2 Sky Master observation aircraft (the push-pull type) to fly
a VR of the Oscar 8 AO. We planned to make one pass over the target
area taking photos as we flew over enroute to a fake area that we
would pretend to check out. It was a somewhat cloudy day, and the
air was very rough. As we approached the AO the NVA welcomed us
with fire from a couple of .51 caliber machine guns. A round hit the
right wing flap and another came through the floor hitting the pilot
in the leg. The pilot was bleeding badly, in a great deal of pain and
struggling to control the plane. We were all over the sky—which
actually made us more difficult to hit. Meanwhile, the rounds were
still coming up at us. Another round came through the cargo
compartment just behind Bargewell and out through the top of the
plane causing the rear engine to shut down. I said to Bargewell, “I
think I have seen enough for today!” He agreed.
I took my belt off and used it as a tourniquet to slow the pilot’s
bleeding. We could not afford for him to become incapacitated or
die. Once I got his bleeding slowed, I sent out a “Mayday” and
notified the control tower of our situation and approximate location.
I assisted the pilot in turning the plane back toward Da Nang,
keeping it from flying in circles. In about 45 minutes we were joined
by an Air Force OV-10 Bronco to help guide us back to the airfield—
or see where we crashed if we didn’t make it.
The pilot stayed conscious most of the time and was able to
imitate a landing when we got to the airfield. It was not pretty. We
hit the runway at an angle so hard that it caused the left side landing
gear to collapse on impact. The plane skidded before going off the
runway into a grassy area and stopping. The fire crew was there
almost immediately to get us out of the plane and foam it. The pilot
was taken to the hospital and lived. I was glad to be alive and have
my feet back on the ground. I think Bargewell was too. So much for
the recon!
Monkey Mountain Pre-Mission Training
We arrived back at CCN in time to have lunch with Nash and bring
him up to date on the VR. He briefed us on how the morning
rehearsals had gone and what he thought needed a lot more work.
We agreed that the afternoon would be a combination of more
rehearsals and preparing our equipment for our 1000 hours
insertion on Monkey Mountain the next day for live rehearsals. We
planned to use the flight to Monkey Mountain as a practice insertion.
We finished lunch and went to work. The next day we made a
practice insertion, movement and security halt, then went “admin” to
review the flight, insertion, movement and security halt. This
included things we had worked on before, e.g., being invisible,
including our new hand signals and one-word commands, enhanced
sensations, etc. Then we picked a section of the trail that went to the
lighthouse to talk through the ambush setup and execution. After
that we set up the ambush and simulated the execution, PW
recovery, attack by NVA reaction forces from both directions and
movement of the PW. We took a break for lunch, then went back at it
making slight modifications to our techniques as we executed.
Just before dark we moved into our RON. About an hour before
daylight, we moved back to the trail and set up the three ambushes in
the dark, the way we planned to do during the mission. At first light
we were ready to execute the ambush. We simulated an ambush
using the C-4 and taking a PW and discovered we had set up too
close to the C-4. We were literally stunned! A few team members
were so stunned that by today’s standards and terminology, they
might have qualified as having a traumatic brain injury (TBI).
Bargewell, Nash and I were stunned, but seemed to be OK.
After recovering, we practiced movement and extraction with one
PW and multiple PWs. This had proven to be a worthwhile trip that
pointed out some areas that needed a lot of work before going live. I
felt like we needed another trip to Monkey Mountain, but there
wasn’t enough time before the mission.
Back at CCN we got a couple of RTs to provide “bad guys” for our
simulated practices and American operators to provide critique,
general observations and questions. CPT Welch also observed our
practice sessions. I kept the team training day and night, going over
and over different contingencies until I felt like we were close.
Launch Site
The Final Mission Briefing (FMB) was very similar to the others I
had been in, with the exception of the insertion helicopter pilot
offering to provide me with a headset, and that all the extraction
assets had to be in range and ready to react when the PW capture
was executed. Something else that made this mission different was
that we would be in Oscar 8, a notorious hot bed of NVA, anti-
aircraft guns and automatic weapons fire. Bargewell and I had
already experienced some of this when we flew the VR.
 Wearing the headset would allow me to hear all the radio traffic
among the different aircraft, know where they were and what was
happening at the LZ. Having all this information allowed me to feel
and be more in control. It was a game changer and would be SOP for
me on future operations. Why did I not think of this before?
It was a long flight to our insertion LZ. Fuel would make the
various aircrafts’ on-station times short, meaning that we would have
a very short window for the capture and movement to the LZ. All
aircraft would be on runway alert—the pilots and crew in their
aircraft and ready for takeoff as soon as I transmitted “Xray Yankee
Foxtrot,” meaning the capture was imminent. The four Cobras, four
SPADs (A- 1s) and two F-4s would launch immediately to their
rendezvous points (RPs) near the extraction LZ, or if necessary,
straight in to provide air support under Covey’s control. Additional
gunships would be on standby in case they were needed. The four
extraction aircraft (two primaries and two backups with a medic on
each backup) would head for their RP near the extraction LZ to wait
for clearance to approach the LZ. Everyone knew there would be a
high anti-aircraft threat once the NVA knew the team was on the
ground.
The next Covey coming on shift would be on standby during the
operation in case we lost the primary Covey (low fuel, shot down,
etc.). The Hillsboro/Moonbeam would be monitoring—and relaying
if necessary—all communications. Medical personnel would be on
standby at the launch site in addition to RT Rattler as a Bright Light
team (a quick reaction force) in case we were lost (all killed, MIA,
disappeared, etc.).
During the final mission briefing (FMB) I shared that our O-2
was hit with .51 caliber fire during our attempted VR. The NVA out in
that area were not happy people. We needed to be prepared to take
some heavy fire on the way in and out of the AO. Everyone agreed.
Travel to LZ
This was my sixth launch from Quang Tri. I was very familiar with
the process, the people, and what the initial route to the border was
like. Even though I wore a head set and could hear all the radio
traffic, I felt a little more anxious than normal. I think it was because
the PW capture process had so many moving parts and so many
opportunities for things to go wrong. The team had been thoroughly
trained for what we had to do. I knew the Coveys and had great
confidence in all the support aircraft units and crews. This was an
exciting mission. I just needed to relax, take some deep breaths,
focus and enjoy the ride.
Covey was enroute to the RP and would arrive in Oscar 8 prior to
the two Cobra team escorts and the team on two UH-1H helicopters.
Two additional Cobras would be at the gunship RP, TAC Air (two A-
1s) would be on station at the TAC Air RP, and two F-4s would be on
station at their “fast mover” RP ready to support us if needed.
Insertion
The team insertion was smooth and uneventful. We did not receive
any fire on the way into the AO or LZ. We quickly jumped off the
insertion helicopters, ran into the edge of the jungle, made a quick
head count, rapidly and silently moved into our traveling positions
and began to move forward. Everyone knew to focus on being
invisible. I gave the signal to remind them.
As the backup helicopters arrived at their RP, two .51 caliber
machine guns opened fire on them. Their Cobra escort immediately
went after the gun positions with mini-guns and rockets. When they
had expended their ordnance, the two A-1s came in with napalm,
ending the ground fire from that area.
Security Halt
We moved about 100 meters and found a site for a security halt.
Everyone moved into their security posture and began to adapt to the
jungle environment. I immediately noticed a difference in my
hearing. The headset provided a significant amount of hearing
protection. I hit the ground with almost all of my hearing ability. The
difference was dramatic. The jungle was thick and the trees were tall.
After about ten minutes the team felt “one with the jungle,” and no
signs of the enemy had been detected. I sent the code to Covey for
“Team OK. Moving southeast.” Covey clicked twice acknowledging
receipt. I also knew that those two clicks meant I had just released all
the assets from their RPs to fly back across the border to their units.
We were now all alone except for Covey off in the distance.
The terrain was thick; it was slow going and definitely leech city.
Leeches were everywhere! The jungle seemed too quiet. We knew
NVA were in the area, but where were they? We worked our way
along slowly, trying to stay invisible. We used our newly developed
hand signal for “be invisible” to help the team keep invisibility top of
mind.
RON 1
Soon we found a well-used trail and set up an observation position to
monitor the trail traffic. After observing it all afternoon, we only saw
one group of three NVA on the trail. We moved from this site and
eventually found another trail that appeared to be well traveled. I
made the decision to move into an RON and watch this trail again
the next day. The RON site was relatively close, but a safe distance
from the trail. We set up for the night. After the site was secured and
we were set for the night, I sent Covey the RON code word and grid
coordinates. Oscar 8 was a place that demanded a lot of respect. That
night we would maintain a minimum of seven of nine team members
awake all through the night based on the reputation of this AO.
In addition to the RON site being full of leeches, the temperature
was dropping. The ground was wet and cold. If that wasn’t bad
enough, it rained like a cow peeing on a flat rock for about two hours,
followed by a steadier rain for another two hours. I had one small
indigenous poncho that covered about half of me, so I was soaked
and freezing. It was so cold I feared the NVA would hear my teeth
chattering. When you are used to 100-degree weather and the
temperature drops to 80 degrees and you are soaking wet, you
freeze. It was a miserable night! A night like this was perfect for the
NVA sneaking up on us and taking the team out before we knew they
were on us. That night required extra vigilance. I would sleep with
one eye open!
At 0210 it was raining hard, and we heard movement near our
RON between us and our outer layer of Claymores. They were not on
the trail but moving along the side of the ridge directly toward us. I
estimated there were four of them stumbling through the thick
vegetation. They might be a team looking for us with a large NVA
group waiting on the trail. We went to full alert with all team
members awake and ready to respond. I sent a whisper message
around to Bargewell, “.22. My lead.” I was ready with my .22 High
Standard with integrated silencer. Bargewell had a .22 and would not
fire until I did. I wasn’t sure we could get all four of them in the dark
without at least one of them firing a shot. Team members knew not
to stand up because Bargewell and I would shoot anyone standing
and they were ready with their knives. We did not want to fire a
CAR-15 if we could avoid it. Firing an unsilenced weapon would end
the PW mission and probably get all of us killed. Everyone’s hearts
were in their throats and pure adrenaline was running through our
veins.
The four-man NVA group walked/stumbled within less than two
feet of stepping on Chung and kept going. All of us were holding our
breath. I had Chung’s NVA in my sights. If he had stepped on Chung,
I would have dropped him and with the help of Bargewell, taken out
the other three. The team members would have silently finished
them as they hit the ground. Holy crap! What a rush! No one got
their heart rate back to normal the rest of the night. We had avoided
a mission ending event by less than two feet! Cantua told me later he
heard the NVA talking. They had strayed off the trail in the heavy
rain and were trying to get back on it.
Fortunately, we made it through the night undetected—except for
the leeches. We were covered in big fat ones. I had three the size of
my thumb on my face and one had managed to get inside my shirt
and attach to my side. The fastest way to get a leech off, besides a
match, is to put a few drops of insect repellent on its head. I was
concerned about the team using insect repellent because of the smell,
but we had to get the leeches off.
The rain stopped before first light and we remained at 100% alert
before BMNT ready for an attack, if it came. Everything seemed
secure, but we had heard some noise coming from the vicinity of the
trail just after first light. Then it was quiet again.
Day 2: Observation of Trail #2
After we ate, we moved quietly into an observation position near trail
#2 at 0700 and put out five Claymores. At 0750 a group of six NVA
came up the trail from the small valley below. They seemed relaxed,
AK-47s slung on their shoulders and talking in low voices. From all
outward appearances they didn’t think anyone might be in the area.
This was a good sign.
About two hours later, another group of six came up the trail with
the same low level of security as the first group. A light rain had
started, and they didn’t appear to be happy about getting wet. None
of them had any type of rain gear. They continued up the ridge at a
steady pace. The observation process also allowed team members to
get some sleep during the day. Sleep was rotated so that two
members at a time slept with a buddy/sleep monitor next to him in
case he began to move, talk or snore. Everyone except Bargewell and
me got at least an hour of sleep during the observation. My belief,
based on my training and limited combat experience was that sleep
loss was detrimental to successful performance during combat—
especially for leaders— because lack of sleep made our brains foggy
and slow. Bargewell and I would get extra sleep that night. In the
1980s I would become an Army Subject Matter Expert on sleep loss
and its impact on leadership and performance in combat. In 2001 my
work would be used to increase performance during the Gulf War.
This type of regular movement activity, six to eight NVA every
two to three hours, continued throughout the day until
approximately 1700. All activity stopped at that point. We used the
relatively consistent group separation during the day to make three-
man recons 100 meters up and down the trail starting about 15
minutes after a group passed. We sketched out what ambush sites #1
and #3 looked like and how we planned to set up the ambushes.
RON 2
It appeared that we had found our PW capture ambush site. The trail
produced ideal ambush targets approximately every two hours
beginning around 0800. We moved to a new RON site that better
supported establishing the ambush sites before first light the next
morning. Once we set up the RON, I sent our new location, the code
for “ambush, 0800 and grid coordinates” to Covey as he made his
evening check in. The capture mission package would be in position
no later than 0800 ready to respond as soon as we triggered the
snatch.
Each team member put on his Swiss seat before dark and slept in
it, even though we didn’t plan to use them. (We had three pre-made
Swiss seats for PWs. I had never tried this as an actual mission
before, but we were ready to find out if we could force a seat on a
PW.) Putting our Swiss seats on now was one less thing we had to do
in the dark the next morning—or under fire like last time. The
weather was projected to be clear with light winds by 0800. At that
point, everything was a go.
The temperature was much warmer. The team would be able to
get some sleep but would still maintain seven of nine awake even
though it wasn’t raining. We couldn’t afford to take any chances! We
had to be prepared for another lost group of NVA. At 0430 we would
go to 100% alert, use 15 minutes for adaptation, then move to the
ambush sites, establish the ambushes, settle into position and wait. I
would send the code word indicating we were in position as soon as
the ambushes were ready. This would trigger the assets to launch
toward their respective RPs.
At 0745 I heard the sound of silence. No bugs. No birds. No
lizards. Then I smelled spices. A group was coming! I heard the
footsteps of NVA coming up the trail, and my heart rate increased.
All team members and Covey were alerted, and we waited for the
lucky one to step into the hole. Everyone was holding their breath. To
our surprise, there were only three people in the group. We had not
seen a group this size the day before. No one moved. No one made a
sound. They might have been a point team for a much larger group. I
made the decision to let them go through the ambush. After a few
minutes, the bugs and birds started making noise again. Everyone
exhaled and relaxed—just a little.
After about 30 minutes Simon and Garfunkel were back. I heard
silence coming from down the trail. No bugs. No birds tweeted; they
were actually flying away! That had not happened with the small
group of NVA. A larger group was coming. Were they too large for
our ambush? I heard sounds from down the trail, footsteps and low
mumbling sounds. Now I smelled them, they had eaten recently.
They were getting closer. Adrenaline caused my heart to race. I could
see the lead person! I put my head closer to the ground. He was in
front of me looking from side to side as he walked. I was afraid he
could hear my heart. Just then, a leech jumped on to my cheek and I
almost flinched. I didn’t dare move or I would die. The leech was cold
and slimy.
This group was much larger than the last one, the largest group
we had seen. They were spaced further apart than the other groups. I
was located in the center of the ambush. My first job was to initiate
the ambush unless the group was too large or detected us. I counted
12 NVA walking through the “hole” and saw and heard many more
coming. This group was much too large! I felt the leech bite into my
cheek. I ignored the leech and decided not to initiate the ambush.
Suddenly, I heard a group of NVA open fire at ambush site #1.
Something scared them and they had opened fire, randomly spraying
bullets to both sides of the trail. Some bullets were coming our way!
The sounds were all AK-47s except one light machine gun. They had
a machine gun! The sound of the NVA in ambush site #1 firing
spooked the NVA in our ambush site. It was decision time. I had no
way to warn our team to close their eyes because they were about to
get hit with a blast wave and debris. It was too late!
I simultaneously detonated the Claymores in site #1 and the main
ambush site. The detonation was massive! Seven Claymores, five frag
grenades, four pounds of C-4 and automatic weapons fire from the
team. I was stunned by the blast wave from the explosives. Debris,
branches, leaves, rocks, dirt, smoke, a blast wave and sound hit me in
the face and blinded me! The smell of gunpowder and smoke was
choking. I couldn’t hear! I jerked the leech off my face.
Wait! The team wasn’t firing! Why weren’t they firing? Were
they knocked out? Temporarily stunned? The 6-10 NVA not in the
KZ were firing in random directions. Then some of the team began
firing. Now the surviving NVA knew where we were and directed
their fire on us. They were gaining fire superiority and we couldn’t let
that happen. I emptied two 20-round magazines (eight seconds total
counting reloading) and tossed a frag grenade. I had to get everyone
returning fire quickly!
I yelled, “NASH, TAKE ’EM OUT!” Nash, Pua and Rapun focused
their fire on the NVA and threw two frag grenades and a WP grenade
at them. Bullets were flying in all directions! The WP grenade
produced a shower of white phosphorous chunks that fell on the live
NVA burning them severely and creating a very dense, white choking
smoke. It looked like some of the chunks were going to hit us, but
they didn’t. The smoke provided temporary concealment of the KZ
and some incapacitation of the NVA. Nash, Pua and Rapun fired into
the dense smoke and into the KZ.
Most of the team dashed on to the trail to make sure all NVA
except PWs were dead and searched. Two of the three NVA that had
been in or near the “hole” were on their hands and knees. The third
was trying to stand up. Bargewell got there first and quickly body
slammed the one trying to get up (PW1), then pounced on another
(PW2). I took the third (PW3). Chung and Cantua jumped on the
PWs as soon as they hit the ground, got the handcuffs on them,
drugged, gagged and head-bagged them while the other guys were
finishing off NVA in the kill zone and searching them. Aita was
standing in the KZ providing security.
The clock was ticking. We had to get out of the KZ! Suddenly, the
first small group of NVA that had gone through the ambush came
running back down the trail and opened fire on us. Now we were the
ones in the kill zone! Aita was hit immediately in the abdomen and
went down. I was on the ground wrestling with PW3 and was
splattered with Aita’s blood. He began yelling, “Hit! Hit!” I turned
and shot one of the three with a four-round burst. Cantua quickly
terminated the other two, then sat on PW3 while I dragged Aita out
of the kill zone. He was bleeding badly, and his intestines were
hanging out. He was in tremendous pain and screaming. I slowed
Aita’s bleeding and got his intestines contained against his abdomen.
I injected him with morphine and got on the radio. Cantua
maintained control of PW3.
“Covey, Charlie 5. Alpha India (ambush initiated). One brunette
(wounded), three Papa Whiskies (prisoners). Heavy contact. Moving
to Lima Zulu (LZ), over.”
“Roger, Charlie 5. Two Cobras five mikes out. Echo Hotel
(extraction helicopters) standing by.”
Some NVA ran up the trail from site #1 through the smoke and
put out a heavy volume of fire. Nash, Pua and Rapun were in the KZ
searching bodies when the group coming up the trail put fire directly
on them. Chung was kneeling in the KZ returning fire on the group
coming through the smoke. He got two of them before getting hit in
the left shoulder and going down. Chung yelled, “Hit! Hit!” Pua
threw a frag grenade at the NVA, then grabbed control of PW1 that I
had while emptying a magazine on the new arrivals. Rapun grabbed
PW2. Nash dragged Chung off the trail, continued to return fire and
threw a frag grenade. Then he started working on Chung.
 Crap! There were a lot more of them than we thought. And they
were not happy.
“Covey. This is Five. We have another brunette.”
As the PW and search teams left the KZ, I tossed my Eldest Son
AK magazine next to a dead NVA, certain some “lucky” NVA would
pick it up later. I could hear the clock ticking in my head. We had
taken too much time in the KZ. The NVA force was much larger than
we thought and determined to take back the PWs. We were running
out of time!
We had three PWs handcuffed behind their backs, gagged, head
bagged, drugged and secured with ankle ropes (an eight-foot rope
tied to one ankle) so we could jerk their foot and cause them to face
plant if they tried to run.
A fourth group of approximately 25–30 NVA came up the trail
and engaged Nash and Pua. Pua was rapidly firing 40mm high
explosive rounds at the NVA causing them to take cover. This fourth
group seemed to be increasing in number. We tried to escape down
the slope toward the LZ, but they were gaining on us. We couldn’t
move fast with the PWs fighting us every step of the way to slow us
down. They kept throwing themselves on the ground and fighting to
prevent us from getting them up and moving. Bargewell carried Aita.
Nash assisted Chung and returned fire.
I yelled to Nash to help Pua put out some Claymores with time
fuses to slow down our pursuers. I took control of PW3 from Pua. He
put out a Claymore with a time fuse. A group of NVA ran in front of
the Claymore KZ just as it detonated. It ripped a hole through their
assault line and shredded them. While they were trying to regroup,
another Claymore detonated, hitting a few more of them. The second
blast really increased their fear of chasing us—but they did it anyway!
They moved slower, however, and were hesitant to get too close to
us. Pua put several 40mm rounds in and around them in rapid
succession to slow them down.
“Covey, Charlie 5. Where are the snakes? We need them now!”
“They are just coming on station. Where do you want them?”
“Identify my flare.” I yelled over a large explosion from an RPG in
the background.
“Covey, Roger. Identify red.”
“Roger. Put the guns and 40 mike mike 100 meters north of my
position. Run from northeast to southwest.”
“Covey, Roger. 30 seconds out. Get your heads down!”
I yelled to my team, “COBRAS COMING IN! EVERYONE GET
DOWN! PROTECT YOUR HEAD!” Some of the bullets were stopped
high up in the trees along with some of the 40mm, but most were
getting through and hitting some of the NVA. It was difficult for
bullets to get through triple canopy.
“This is Five, good run! Good run! Do it again!
There was a loud boom and a flash that Covey saw from the air.
Nash made his way to Rapun and PW2 to see how badly they were
injured. He yelled, “The PW2 is dead! Rapun has shrapnel in his leg
and arm. Bleeding. Can’t walk. I’ve got him!”
“Nash, make sure PW2 is dead and leave him. We’ve got to go!” I
yelled back. “This is Five. Crap! They just took out PW2 with an RPG.
And we’ve got another brunette that can’t walk. Wait. Out.”
“This is Five, marking my position again. ID color.” “I’ve got a
white flare.”
 “Roger that. Make the run 50 meters south of my position flying
east to west. DANGER CLOSE. DO IT NOW!”
More bullets and 40mm got through the canopy this time and did
some damage. It became very smoky and hard to see. The NVA were
still creeping toward us, and we were taking some of them out with
single shots. Pua was working magic with Aita’s M-79. He was
pumping the HE rounds on to the NVA.
“This is Five, that was close, but right on. I need napalm. Now!”
“Roger that. I’ve got two SPADs three mikes out with napalm.
Where do you want it? You copy, Five? You want it deep or wide?
Five, you copy?”
The NVA had massed about 20 meters out from us and were
assaulting. “TAKE COVER! THEY ARE ASSAULTING! THROW
SOME GRENADES! SWITCH TO AUTO! PUA, PUT SOME 40MM
ON THEM!” I shouted.
They were dropping like flies, but more were coming. I was firing
from behind a tree and just as I finished a magazine, I saw an NVA
five feet from Cantua, whose weapon was empty, and PW3. I drew
my Colt 1911A1 .45 caliber pistol and shot the NVA soldier twice. The
impact of the bullets literally picked him up off the ground and threw
him backwards. Wow! A .45 hits hard!
“DON’T LET THEM GET AWAY! KEEP FIRING!” I reloaded and
got a couple more as they were retreating. So did Cantua. “Cantua,
lead us to the LZ.”
“I’m a little busy, Covey!” I finally yelled back over the heavy
volume of gunfire, explosions and me yelling something about the
NVA’s ancestors in background.
“This is Five. A group of NVA just made the final assault of their
lives. Put the first napalm 150 meters south of my position flying east
to west. Danger close! Don’t. Miss! We are moving toward the LZ.” I
shouted, “MICHIGAN! GET DOWN! NAPALM 20 SECONDS OUT!”
The napalm hit in the trees, but a lot of it came to the ground—
right on the NVA! If it gets on you, it won’t come off. It just sticks
and burns. The smoke was so thick under the canopy, our eyes were
burning, and we couldn’t see and were having trouble breathing. The
smell was sickening. Pua and PW1 were both throwing up.
I accidentally pressed the push to talk button before I finished
talking to the team. “CHECK AMMO AND REDISTRIBUTE! Sorry,
Covey. It’s a little chaotic down here. Put the second napalm 100
meters east of my position flying south to north.”
“Roger. Second napalm 30 seconds out. Get on the ground with
something between you and the napalm ASAP!”
I yelled, “MICHIGAN ON THE GROUND! NAPALM 20
SECONDS OUT! COVER YOUR HEAD!”
Most of this one came to the ground. It was on the NVA, but
almost hit us! This stuff scared me. “TAKE OUT THE TORCHES!” I
shouted. The napalm had burned away a lot of the vegetation making
it easier to see the NVA and shoot them. I kept saying to myself, This
is the humane thing to do.
“WOW! That stuff is hot! We’ve got human torches running
around.”
“Five, get down. Third napalm 30 seconds out!” “Roger that! It’s
barbeque time!”
“MICHIGAN, GET DOWN! NAPALM 20 SECONDS OUT!”
Another good drop right on the NVA. The smell of over-cooked
human flesh, smoke and low-oxygen air makes you want to vomit. I
watched as Cantua and Chung began throwing up.
The napalm stopped the NVA’s advancement toward us. We
grabbed our PWs, Bargewell picked up Aita and Nash picked up
Rapun and made a run for the LZ before the NVA regrouped and
came after us. We were only about 200 meters from the LZ. I had put
the last napalm between us and the LZ to clear a path. It definitely
did that. Quite a few of the charred bodies were still burning as we
moved through the area. The smell was gross. There was little oxygen
in the air making it difficult to breathe and it was very smoky and
burned our eyes. We were sweating so much that it was running into
our eyes making it even more difficult to see. We moved as fast as we
could with two PWs fighting every step and three wounded team
members, two of whom were being carried. We were all soaking wet
from the heat and humidity, running, fighting and dragging PWs. We
were dehydrated, thirsty, exhausted, running on pure adrenaline but
getting closer to the extraction LZ.
When we were about 100 meters from the LZ, we hit a wall of
withering AK, RPG and RPD fire. BOOM! BOOM! The heat and blast
wave from the RPGs temporarily blinded us. We found the RPD to be
a devastating weapon too. The NVA had anticipated that we were
going to the LZ and sent a group there to welcome us. They arrived at
the LZ after the napalm. They weren’t tired. The RPD was tearing the
jungle up! RPGs were firing at us. Boom! Boom! Bullets, debris and
shrapnel were flying everywhere. It was very smoky. The sound of
the RPD with its 100-round belt was overpowering the sound of AKs
and shredding everything around us. We could not put our heads up
to shoot back. The NVA machine gunner would have to change
ammunition drums soon. Plus, we were ordering a present for them.
“MICHIGAN! GET DOWN! USE SINGLE SHOTS!”
“Covey, we are in heavy contact on the south side of the LZ, got
any more napalm?”
“This is Covey. Yes. Where you want it?”
“I want the center of mass to be 30 meters north of the tree line
on the south edge of the LZ. Fly east to west. Danger close! Actually,
very close! Don’t miss!”
“Roger that. Stand by.”
“This is Covey. The gates of hell will open in 30 seconds. Get
down!”
“Roger!”
“MICHIGAN! GET DOWN! NAPALM 20 SECONDS OUT!
DANGER CLOSE!”
During those 20 seconds an NVA fired an RPG close to PW3 and
hit him with shrapnel and peppered me with small shrapnel! I could
feel the heat and blast wave from the RPG. Cantua was with PW3.
The PW3 was bleeding badly. I couldn’t do anything for him until
after the napalm strike. The napalm hit very close resulting in most
of the team receiving small burns. This stuff was really scary to use.
One miscalculation and the entire team would be crispy critters! I
scrambled to my PW3 and began trying to stop the bleeding. I looked
up and saw a torch coming toward me.
“CANTUA, TAKE OVER!” But not just any torch. This one was
dragging an RPD by the barrel! I hit him in the chest with a three-
round burst from my CAR-15 and the torch and machine gun were
gone. All future generations that could come from him were instantly
erased.
Wow! My pants leg was on fire! I tried to pat it out, but it just
spread and got on my glove. Now my glove was burning too, and it
was hot! I grabbed a handful of mud, and my glove went out. I
rubbed the mud on my pants leg and put the flame out. It lit up
again. I put more mud on it then realized my shirt sleeve was
burning. Again, I rubbed mud on to put it out. Napalm was hard to
extinguish!
“This is Five. That was a little closer than I expected. It fried the
bad guys, but we may have gotten a suntan through our clothes! We
might even have some burns. We are ready to go home. Can you get
us out of here?”
“Roger that. We have two birds on final approach escorted by
Cobras. Stand by for extraction.”
“Roger. We will be wearing orange hats. Expect a lot of ground
fire. Standing by.”
“MICHIGAN TURN YOUR HATS ORANGE!” I yelled to my team.
“The first load will be Bargewell, Nash, PW1, Aita, and Pua. There
will be a lot of ground fire. We have to load fast or they will leave us.
Keep the PWs secured!”
PW1 resisted getting on the helicopter until Bargewell punched
him in the jaw. He staggered and dropped to his knees. Bargewell
grabbed him and threw him in the helicopter. It seemed like it took a
long time to load the wounded. My job was to provide supporting
fire. Bargewell and Nash were doing a great job loading the wounded
without injuring them more. They were finally in and lifting off. I
could hear the metallic clangs of bullets hitting their chopper.
The second aircraft was on short final. I had the wounded PW3,
Cantua, Chung and Rapun with me. We were receiving a lot of fire,
but our PW3 was not resisting. Cantua and I helped the others get
aboard and we lifted off about two minutes after Bargewell’s aircraft.
The ground fire was still coming at us, and the helicopter received
several hits as we were leaving. I dropped a red smoke grenade. The
Cobras were ripping the area around the LZ apart with miniguns,
40mm and rockets. SPADs were working more napalm, 250-pound
bombs and 20mm machine guns higher and lower on the ridge
trying to interdict the flow of troops up the ridge and suppress the
ground fire. As I watched the fireworks show around us, I took a
deep breath, let it out slowly and thought, we just might make it out
of here.
“Covey, this is Five. Thanks. We really appreciate everything you
guys did for us today. Outstanding job! We’ll take care of you back at
the ranch.”
I sat back to relax. A few minutes later I was looking at
Bargewell’s helicopter in front of us and thinking that although the
team was banged up pretty badly, it was a successful mission. We got
out with two prisoners. Then—it happened! I saw a body fall from
Bargewell’s helicopter. I had on a head set so I was able to ask our
pilot how high we were, and would he ask the lead aircraft what
happened. He told me that we were at 2300 feet AGL and apparently
the prisoner got loose and dove out of the helicopter still handcuffed
and head bagged. He was last seen as he disappeared headfirst into
the jungle canopy 2300 feet below traveling at somewhere between
160–180 MPH!
Now we had one PW3 left and he was steadily bleeding. I had
tried everything I knew to do. The bleeding had slowed, but I
couldn’t stop it. He was hit with several big pieces of shrapnel in the
head, chest, side, arms and legs, and a ton of little pieces elsewhere.
The floor of the helicopter was covered with blood. He was slowly
bleeding out. I had already put one IV of Ringer’s solution in him and
started the second. He was getting weaker, no longer able to talk. I
couldn’t let him die. Fortunately, we had gotten some information
from him before he was hit.
We flew straight to the 95th Evac Hospital Emergency Room
helipad to get the wounded treated. When we arrived at the 95th ER
our unconscious PW3 was rushed to OR. About 20 minutes later one
of the surgeons who had been working on him (PW3) came out to tell
us he died on the table. They did all they could but were unable to
save him. This was both depressing and frustrating news.
The most important thing now was the condition of our team
members.

RT Michigan Injuries
Thompson small shrapnel, 1st & 2nd degree
burns
Bargewell small shrapnel, 1st & 2nd degree
burns
Nash small shrapnel, 1st & 2nd degree
burns
Aita bullet in abdomen
Cantua 1st & 2nd degree burns
Chung bullet in shoulder, 1st & 2nd
degree burns
Rapun shrapnel, leg & arm
Pua 1st & 2nd degree burns
After Action Review Summary
The only thing the VR did was confirm the NVA were out there
and could hit a small plane with 51 caliber machine guns.
The pre-mission training was critical, especially what we did on
Monkey Mountain. We needed to rehearse in Monkey
Mountain’s jungle whenever possible.
The Final Mission Briefing and insertion package were
outstanding.
The team performed very well on the ground prior to and during
contact.
Adequate sleep is critical for excellent performance under fire—
especially for leaders. Leaders tend to be reluctant to sleep—
almost seeing it as a sign of weakness. Sleep loss makes our
brains foggy and slows decision making. Chemicals like caffeine,
dextroamphetamine, etc., give us an alert foggy brain.

The Ambush:
The terrain did not allow us to be a safe distance from the
Claymores and C-4 in the main site. We were hit with a lot of
debris and blast, even though the Claymores and C-4 were in
front of trees. We were all slightly stunned and blinded by the
effects of the explosions.
Our view of the KZ was partially blocked by vegetation.
We needed a larger team to handle three PWs and wounded
team members.
The NVA came very close to taking us out at the KZ and during
the ensuing fight to get to the LZ.
Several valuable documents and maps were recovered from
bodies in the KZ.
We began an immediate interrogation of the PWs starting in the
KZ while they were being secured. Only one PW had any partial
hearing. The other two had ruptured ear drums.
 Four pounds of C-4 combined with the blast effect of the
Claymores might have been too much. Three pounds would
probably be more than enough to have staggered them.
We needed at least one Claymore (with WP in front of it) about
20 meters down from the KZ on each end to help provide
security against reaction forces.
Needed more practice securing a violently resisting PW loaded
with adrenaline.
I had no way to alert the team that I was going to initiate the
ambush. I hoped that they knew I would when they heard the
gun fire at ambush site #1. We had not practiced for this
situation.
Needed more practice carrying different types of wounded under
fire. We were not ready for Aita’s abdomen wound. Bargewell
did a great job, but we should have trained for this before the
mission.
Need to reinforce training on when to fire semi vs. automatic.
More practice on redistributing ammunition (magazines,
40mm, frag grenades and Claymores).
Trying to communicate during a firefight, especially if we are
trying to escape, is very difficult. Need to have the Americans in
the right places and them relaying commands.
Bargewell and I carrying silenced pistols provided a way to
salvage the mission if the “lost” NVA had stepped on Chung. The
silenced pistol became part of my standard loadout on all future
missions.
We need more medical training, especially controlling bleeding.

Psychological
We need to stay busy between missions. Inactivity allows fear to
creep in.
There is a direct relationship between time between missions
and level of fear.
We need time to heal, physically and psychologically, between
missions.
 We need time between missions to correct problems and train
for the next one.
The physical and psychological effect of wearing a headset was
stunning. In addition to providing real-time battlefield
information, it also gave me the ability to:
• Adapt the insertion plan while we were still in the air
• Have more control of the insertion
• Manage fear
• Focus and relax
• Be fully in the game before arrival at the LZ
• Preserve hearing—now and in the future

Napalm:
Napalm puts the fear of God (or maybe the devil) in the NVA. It
is the most horrible, cruel, terrifying, physically and
psychologically damaging weapon in our arsenal. It creates a lot
of human torches—enemy soldiers covered with burning napalm
blindly stumbling around as they are being consumed by fire.
The enemy survivors, if there are any, never get over the
screams, smells, pain, lack of oxygen in the air, choking air,
smoke and visual images they see. The experience is literally
burned into their brains/minds.
The team that delivers napalm never gets over the experience.
Calling it in scares me because I know the slightest
miscalculation by anyone in the process can cause it to hit the
good guys. All of the team received some burns this time. But
sometimes you have to choose to save the team at all costs.
Napalm opens the gates of hell. It makes the survivors think
twice about attacking the team. It also makes them use the tactic
of hugging the team. They try to get close enough to the team
that you can’t use napalm, airstrikes or gunships.

Lessons Learned
Wearing gloves provided my hands some protection, but not
enough to overcome the heat generated by emptying 32
magazines (20x32=640 rounds), mostly with automatic bursts.
 The .45-caliber pistol (M1911A1) demonstrated outstanding
knock down power at close range, but it was heavy, the
ammunition was heavy and it only has a seven-round magazine.
I will consider carrying it again. (Even if I carry the M1911A1, I
will still carry the silenced pistol).
The team needed to have more than one M-79. We would carry
an additional sawed-off version (so we would still have the CAR-
15) as a minimum on future missions.
The PWs fought us the whole time and really slowed our
movement, especially under fire. They also made loading the
aircraft more difficult. Bargewell had to knock his PW out to get
him on the helicopter—and he still managed to get loose and
jump out of the helicopter at 2300 feet.
We recovered a lot of valuable NVA documents, maps, etc.
This was a very mentally and physically fatiguing operation—
start to finish.
We needed more physical training.
Bargewell seemed to be fascinated by the fire power of the RPD.
He played with one during post-mission training and decided it
was too heavy and awkward to carry on an RT mission. I could
tell he had not given up on the idea.
Bargewell would eventually begin carrying a modified (no bipod
and a shorter barrel) RPD as his primary weapon. His RPD
would play a major role in the firefight in which he won the
Distinguished Service Cross. Bargewell would pass on this
particular RPD to 1LT Ken Bowra, a SOG 1-0, who would not
only become a SOG legend, but also, like Bargewell, a Major
General. I should have told Bargewell I wanted to use the RPD.
Maybe I would have been a MG. On second thought, no. I don’t
think it was the gun.
SSG Nash was moved to another team after this mission to be a 1-
1 on a team with only one American.

RT Michigan Marble Mountain Security Mission with

Cousin Carl 25 JAN 69
There are five Marble Mountains near Da Nang, each named after
one of the elements: Kim (metal); Thuy (water); Moc (wood); Hoa
(fire); and Tho (earth). The highest is Thuy, which set approximately
300 meters outside the southern side of the CCN compound
defensive wire. Marble Mountain, as we called Thuy, rose almost
straight up out of the sand for over 450 feet. It forms a saddle with a
peak on each end. If the bad guys could get on one or both of those
peaks, they could fire directly into the CCN compound. That is
exactly what they tried to do on 23 August 1968 when the compound
was overrun.
After that, CCN kept an RT on each of the peaks all the time. RT
Michigan’s mission would be to man the combat outpost (COP) on
the eastern most peak (COP 1) for ten days. RT Georgia had been on
the western most peak for about five days and would be replaced by
another RT in five to eight days.

Marble Mountain Team Roster

LT Thompson 1-0
SGT Bargewell 1-1
Cantua Interpreter
Hieng M-79
Camba Pointman 1
Pua Pointman 3
Acat Tail Gunner 1
Chung Tail Gunner 2
Rapun M-79
Aita Pointman 2
SGT Hudson Straphanger
Travel to COP 1
Just after first light we exited the CCN compound through the rear
exit in full combat gear and made our way along the beach very
carefully. Before arriving at the base of the mountain we were met by
a three- man escort team from RT Coral. Their job was to show us
the way to approach the mountain and point out the hazards to
watch for— booby traps, mines, ambushes, etc. We passed through
the edge of a small village and followed the trail up to a plateau to the
Pagoda where the monks lived. From there the trail changed
dramatically. It was very steep and rough with loose rocks, and it was
difficult to climb, especially while carrying so much gear.
Eventually, we arrived at the top and were greeted by the RT
Coral 1-0, SSG Jason, his 1-1, SGT Mulberry, and his team. They
were excited to be getting off the mountain. It was only a little after
1000 hours and already 100 degrees. No trees grew on the
mountaintop, just sun and a light breeze coming off the South China
Sea.
SSG Jason and SGT Mulberry gave us an operations and tactical
briefing as they walked us around the COP perimeter covering the
topics below:
Snipers
Defensive Positions
Rules of Engagement
How/when/where the enemy attacks
Coordination/communication with COP 2
Interlocking fires
Food/water/ammunition resupplies
Daytime security patrols
IEDs/booby-traps
The heat and humidity
Don’t forget the snipers
Our mission was to defend the COP and not to allow the VC or
NVA to get in the COP. Our secondary mission was to support COP 2
on the other peak in the event the enemy tried to take it. We could
see the RT Georgia team members moving around about 300 meters
across the plateau. SSG Jason got RT Georgia’s 1-0, SFC Saunders,
on the radio and I talked to him. Bargewell knew him, and I had seen
him in the CCN compound but never had actually met him.

Bargewell tested the landline that had been strung high above the
saddle between the two COPs. This provided a secondary and private
means of communication between the COPs. The TOC monitored all
of our radio traffic and kept the CCN Commander apprised of what
was happening on the mountain. Note: There would come a time in
the near future, during the heat of battle, when I should have
remembered that what I was saying on the radio was being
monitored by a lot of people, including the CCN Commander.
Day 1
Once we settled into our defensive positions and notified the TOC
that we had control of COP 1, RT Coral left the COP and started their
hike back to CCN. All Michigan team members began fortifying their
defensive positions and checking fields of fire, aiming stakes,
ammunition, grenades and flares, getting ready for the enemy to test
our resolve that night.
What the team found most interesting, however, was the latrine.
They found it very funny to watch each other use the apparatus. It
gave a new meaning to being totally open. It was a wooden platform
with a commode seat mounted over a hole on the edge of the cliff
with the seat/hole extending beyond the edge of the cliff. When you
used the latrine, your waste matter dropped 200 feet straight down
to some rocks. Getting on and off the latrine was a challenge. It took
some getting used to both physically and mentally. You also did not
use it at night—snipers.
A little after 1500, Hieng was welcomed by a sniper when one
tried to pick him off. Two rounds ricocheted off a rock about 12
inches from Hieng’s head. That was close and a little earlier than we
expected. We did not see the sniper’s location, but we all got the
message. The bad guys were out there and intended to take us out!
We were also learning about bullets ricocheting off our mountaintop
of stone.
The sunset was beautiful from the COP, but it was the lull before
the storm. Around 2030 we came under heavy fire from the small
plateau between us and COP 2. This gave me an opportunity to play
with my M-60 machine gun. I engaged the enemy with a heavy
barrage of 7.62mm fire and was joined by an M-60 on COP 2. It was
nice not to have to carry the heavy M-60 (23 lbs) or the ammo (30
lbs/1000).
 As we returned fire, it lit up each of our defensive positions. Now
the NVA knew exactly where our positions were located. A second
NVA group located almost directly across from COP 1 engaged our
positions from the mouth of a small cave approximately 40 meters
away. This caused us all to get down until Hieng put two 40mm HE
rounds in the mouth of the cave followed by a flare to light up the
inside. The cave went silent and stayed that way the rest of the night.
So did the plateau. I’m sure the guys watching the movie inside the
compound continued to enjoy the main feature while we played with
the bad guys nicknamed “Charlie.”
After the attack ended and my adrenaline began to wear off, I was
able to process what the experience was like physically and
psychologically. I made a list to discuss in the AAR I planned to do
the next morning.
Day 2
During the AAR we noted that the sandbags around our positions
had not fared well during the attack. Bargewell put in a request for
50 full sandbags, along with more ammunition, to be delivered by
lunch. We also discussed the following:
We were not only “trapped” on the small mountain peak with
our backs against a cliff, but also in most of our fighting
positions, especially mine. My position was on the primary route
of engagement. I had a view of the entire battlefield. This gave
me great fields of fire, and I had a machine gun, which made my
position the primary target for the NVA. They could easily see
my position and some others on my side of the peak making it
easy to attack us in the dark.
I was mostly confined to my position once the attack started. To
escape from my position once I began to fire would totally
expose me for 15–20 meters. Moving to another place on the
peak would greatly reduce my ability to see and control the
battle. I had a ringside seat for the entire battlefield. I had
become so used to shooting and moving that my position and
the peak felt almost claustrophobic. We could not maneuver.
Being pinned down in heavy fire and not being able to raise my
head above my sandbags was almost like being underwater at
night—no visibility. I elected to remain in this position for a few
days to see how it worked for me.
Another problem we had to work out was internal
communication. Bargewell and I both had a PRC-25. This
allowed us to talk to each other, COP 2, TOC, helicopters and
gunships—but not the team members. We had to yell to the team
over a very loud environment of guns firing, explosions, etc. We
kept Bargewell just over the backside of the peak which gave him
mobility to get near each fighting position and check their status
and give instructions. We became better at how we
communicated as the days went along.
We did an AAR each morning to learn and improve our ability to
destroy the attackers and keep team members safe.
In hindsight I find it difficult to believe that we did not wear
helmets and flak jackets in this static position.
Our M-79s played a critical role in our defense. Shooting the
40mm grenades from the peak extended their range
significantly. Being in a static position allowed us to stockpile
 40mm ammunition and include CS gas and smoke rounds along
with a lot of HE rounds. During attacks, Hieng and Rapun
would create a 40mm rain on the NVA. Bargewell would just
order more the next day.
We knew we had a lot to learn about best practices on the
mountain and went after it aggressively like the team was
learning to do with everything else. I had the best 1-1 I could
have had in Bargewell, and we were in the early stages of what
would become a 50-year friendship.

Day 2 was a hot, slow day. Fortunately, the COP had its own
transistor radio (see the right side of the picture. This allowed us to
tune in our one station, the Armed Forces Vietnam Network (AFVN),
Saigon, hosted by DJ Pat Sajak (yes, later to become the famous
“Wheel of Fortune” host beginning in 1981). He was the AFVN host
from October 1968 to December 1969. Every weekday at 0600 he
would shout those famous words, “Gooood mornnning, Vietnam!”
This boosted our morale and helped us keep up with the latest music
in the States.
The snipers returned around 1630 and played with us until 1800.
The snipers liked to attack before it got dark enough that we could
see their muzzle flashes. We had a break for a couple hours, then a
small attack just to let us know the NVA were thinking about us.
Day 3
Another beautiful sunrise, a cool breeze and an afternoon that would
bring me a big surprise!
Around 1100 on Day 3 the TOC called and said I needed to report
to the Recon Company TOC—a visitor was waiting for me. That was
all they would say. I took Cantua and Hieng and we made our way
down the mountain. I was in total shock when I saw who was waiting
for me. It was my cousin Carl. Remember Thompson’s Rangers? I
knew he was in country on his third tour in Vietnam but did not
expect to see him while I was at CCN. I especially did not expect to
see him inside a top secret SOG compound that few people outside of
SOG knew existed. How did he know I was there and how did he talk
his way into a restricted compound? He had always amazed me with
what he could do.
He said he had a few days leave from Golf Company, 75th
Rangers and came up to see me. I explained that my team was
securing COP 1 and I had to go back up there, but if he didn’t mind
getting shot at while he was on leave, I could show him a good time.
He was all in. We ate in the mess hall then went to the supply room
where he signed for a CAR-15, some tactical gear, ruck, LRPs, ammo,
an IV of Ringer’s solution, a poncho and liner. He declined the
helmet and flak jacket and we headed up the mountain. It was great
to see him and serve in combat for a few days together like we did
when we were kids. I would have felt better if he had taken the
helmet and flak jacket because this time the bad guys would be
shooting back with AK-47s and RPGs.
The enemy did not disappoint us. They attacked several times
during the night. I think they knew we had a new person with us on
the mountain and wanted to welcome cousin Carl to Thuy.
Day 4
We did our normal AAR as we ate breakfast. It was good to have
Carl’s perspective on what he observed and his recommendations.
After our AAR, the boredom of Day 4 set in. Being confined to a
40-foot-in-diameter mountaintop in direct sun, plus 100 degrees and
high humidity got old fast. It was time to do something. I rounded up
Carl, Cantua, Camba and Pua and told Bargewell we were going to
clear some caves, starting with the one across from us. I noticed that
Camba and Pua did not seem to want to go and had a conversation
with Cantua. When I ask Cantua what was going on, he said they
didn’t like caves. They went anyway.
We did not find anyone in the cave across from us but did see a
lot of dried blood. When we went into one of the lower caves, we
surprised two NVA. Carl put one of them down right away, then we
started dodging our own bullets! We were educated on what happens
when you start shooting in a stone cave—ricochets! Each bullet was
bouncing off two or three walls before it stopped. After a few minutes
we got the hang of it and took out the other bad guy. We searched
them and left their bodies outside the cave and returned to COP 1.
Camba thought we should put the two NVAs’ heads on stakes as a
warning to the other NVA. I told him to re-sheath his knife. We were
not going to do that. He and Pua were not happy.
We had some sniper fire during the early evening, but no attack
that night. We managed to get a little more sleep than normal.
Day 5
In our AAR, we spent time processing shooting in stone caves and
how to use ricochets to our advantage. The team had also heard
about the Marble Mountain shootout with the NVA in 1968, LT Dan
Thompson was tasked to take his Hatchet Force Platoon up the
mountain to find a hole in the top of the mountain that could be used
to retrieve three Americans and six indigenous commandos—all
wounded and trapped inside the grotto with no way out—and to
retrieve LT David Lenchner’s body. Dan found a hole and was able to
rescue the nine wounded personnel and recover LT Lenchner’s body.
Knowledge of this incident was what caused Camba and Pua not
to want to go in the caves the day before. Cantua did not tell me that
when I asked what was wrong, so he and I had a private talk about
the need to tell me everything.
 Bargewell ordered more sandbags, ammunition and food. A
Kingbee delivered the supplies just before lunch.
About 1400, Hieng and Camba asked if they could make a quick
run down to the village. Hieng said they would be back in an hour.
Carl and I went with them to keep them out of trouble. We looked
around the village a little and got a range of reactions—from
amazement to fear. The villagers weren’t used to seeing SOG
members up close. We found a small restaurant and stopped for a
snack. Carl had learned to speak Vietnamese pretty well. Not sure
what we ate, but it was very hot! I’m sure Carl knew but did not tell
me. Hieng and Camba disappeared while we were eating. When they
came back, they had a live chicken— sans feathers.
We went back up the mountain and enjoyed an early chicken and
rice dinner. When we finished our meal and made our final security
inspection of the mountaintop, it was about time for the snipers to
say hello. It was a beautiful sunset, even with the snipers.
Around 2200 hours our friends came back and primarily attacked
COP 2. We were able to provide fire support for them. It was a
relatively easy night for us. A little target practice without much
return fire. I think Carl was disappointed.
Day 6
A really hot and boring morning. But you never knew what
excitement the day could bring.
About 1300, Hieng and Camba asked if they could make a quick
run down to the village. “No trouble,” they said. Hieng said they
would be back in an hour. Bargewell agreed and I said they could go,
but they had to take Cantua, Pua and the radio with them. Twenty
minutes after they left, we heard two CAR-15 gunshots followed
immediately by Cantua on the radio saying, “No problem. We come
home.” Bargewell said, “They’ve done something. I can hear it in
Cantua’s voice.”
After about 15 minutes we saw them climbing up the last and
steepest part of the trail. They were carrying something. When they
got on top, I could see they had a bloody sandbag with something
heavy in it and blood dripping from the bottom of the bag. Bargewell
asked Cantua what was in the bag. Cantua became angry during his
discussion with Hieng. He turned to Bargewell and said, “Monk dog.
They eat.” Bargewell almost lost it. He shared some very heated
words with Hieng using Cantua to interpret them. Bargewell was not
happy with them. They had killed the monks’ dog and were going to
eat it!
The evening meal was dog and rice. Bargewell, Carl and I had
LRPs. Actually, Carl and I did have a small portion of dog and rice
with our LRPs—just to maintain the team bond. We were living the
dream. A belly full of dog and snipers shooting at us while the latest
hits from America blasted in the background, knowing all along that
this was the warmup act for what was coming later that night. And
the attack did come. Just another day in SOG.
Day 7
AAR: We spent time on no heads on sticks and no eating monks’
dogs. Even though the Vietnamese ate dogs on a regular basis, RT
Michigan was not going to take people’s dogs and eat them. Today
we were going into caves again and were going to be careful where
we shot. I wanted them to avoid hitting the big fancy buddhas. We
didn’t need any more trouble with the monks.
We decided we would spend the hottest part of the day searching
caves, especially the big ones with the big carved buddhas in them.
The monks were not happy when they saw us going into their main
areas. Unfortunately, we did not find any bad guys, but it was a lot
cooler than being outside in the sun.
Just before our evening meal of LRPs for the Americans and PIRs
for the little guys, our sniper friends returned. Then a small attack.
Not very exciting.
Day 8
AAR: We had not found any NVA in the caves but did notice that the
monks and Vietnamese were acting suspicious. Bargewell and
Cantua picked up on it right away. Something was up—or coming.
The wind and hard rain started about an hour before daylight.
There was no way to stay dry or warm. We had planned to go back in
the caves that day but decided to stay in the COP.
The snipers started early that afternoon, taking us by surprise.
The first round hit Pua in the arm. Nothing serious, but I’m sure it
hurt. I called the TOC and had them send a chopper to pick up Pua
and have him treated. He was back in a couple of hours.
 We tried to stay behind cover as much as we could but staying
covered reduced our ability to see what was happening around us.
The increased sniper activity combined with the weather made
Bargewell’s and my Spidey senses go off. I called SSG Saunders on
COP 2 on the landline and shared our concern that this had the
makings of a CCR Bad Moon Rising. He said they had the same
feeling. I called the TOC and shared my concerns about what might
be coming.
Just before dark, the sniper fire stopped. Everything got quiet—
except the wind and rain. Both COPs were on full alert and looking
for any sign of movement. I told Carl to mentally prepare for a heavy
attack that night. I had passed that same information to the TOC and
asked them to have the mortar crews on alert and ready to fire flares
for us. Bargewell had already distributed extra hand flares and frag
grenades to the team. The rain stopped around 1930 and the wind
slowed a little. Cantua was scanning with the starlight scope, but the
night was so dark he couldn’t see very far.
Just after 2100, a large group of NVA opened fire on both COPs
with AK-47s and RPGs from the back side of the plateau. A couple of
B-40 rockets went over our COP and down toward the CCN
compound but hit short of the defensive wire. I called for flares from
the mortar crews. At the same time this was happening, the Marine
compound on the other side of the village was attacked. We could see
a heavy exchange of fire. The Marines called in 155mm artillery to
help defend their position.
With our COPs lit up by the flares, the snipers decided to join the
party. Then a second group of NVA opened fire from positions much
closer to us. They had used the dark night to slip in closer than
normal. We were definitely slugging it out with them. After about 20
minutes while communicating back and forth with SSG Saunders on
COP 2 over the radio, I slipped in a comment that if we had a case of
beer, we would be having a real party up here.
A few minutes later a 155mm artillery “short” round landed next
to one of the Marine barracks and leveled it. Fortunately, everyone
was on the perimeter in their fighting positions. You do not want to
be on the artillery gun-target line, especially with 155mms! The
155mm rounds were known for landing short of the target on a
regular basis.
 A lot of NVA bodies were scattered around on the ground
between the two COPs. COP 2 had two team members with gunshot
wounds who would be evacuated the next morning. RT Michigan had
three with not-serious shrapnel wounds. The rest of us were okay.
We stayed alert the rest of the night, but there was no more activity—
or so we thought!
Day 9
When the sun came up there were no bodies to be seen. Under the
cover of darkness, they had all been dragged or carried away, a
common practice by the NVA. While observing the absence of bodies
the TOC called for an update and to let me know that the CCN
Commander wanted me to report to his office at 0800. I thought that
maybe he was going to tell us we did a good job the night before, but
I didn’t really think so. We did a short AAR and I took Cantua, Hieng
and Carl and headed down the mountain.
When I got in LTC Isler’s office he confronted me about the
drinking and partying going on at my COP. I assured him that was
not the case. He said he heard me say “if we had another case of
beer.” I told him I said “a” case of beer and it was just banter while I
was pinned down in my fighting position and not able to return fire. I
said that I was sure he noticed that SSG Saunders and I were mixing
a lot of “talk” in with the information we were exchanging. His final
words were, “No partying on the mountain!” I said, “Yes, Sir,” and
Carl, Cantua, Hieng and I headed for the mess hall to get a real meal
before climbing back up the mountain. I never did hear “good job.”
No snipers or attack that night. It was nice to get some sleep.
Day 10
Beautiful sunrise. Everyone was excited because we would be going
back to the compound that afternoon after briefing the new team. We
were told that we would receive a 1600 mission brief.
I did a quick AAR even though we were going back to CCN. I
discussed being careful about what was said on the radio. Cantua
inserted, “COL like NVA. Always listen.” I told them to do a good
police call (pick up trash) before we left and take it with us.
When we got back to CCN we ate in the mess hall, turned in Carl’s
equipment, and got him transportation back to his unit. It was great
sharing some action adventures with him. It’s not every day you get
to have a “live fire” action adventure with your cousin.
Lessons Learned
Being in a static defensive fighting position is different (they
know exactly where you are) than a team fighting and
maneuvering.
Sandbags got shredded very quickly. Not sure why we didn’t use
concrete.
Snipers get your attention!
Be careful what you say on the radio.
Should have considered using helmets and flak jackets. No
reason not to in a static position.
We were trapped on a small peak with limited cover in fixed
positions that the NVA could observe during the day.
We could have lots of ammunition because we did not have to
carry it.
 The M-79s played a critical role in our defense. We could “fire
down” on the NVA and shoot longer distances than normal.
It was very hot on COP 1 with limited man-made shade.
Cousin Carl’s visit was a great action adventure we would never
forget.
We had to learn how to shoot inside the stone caves.
Team members get bored when confined to a small peak. We
had to provide operations to break the boredom, e.g., clearing
caves, trips to the village, etc.
Eating the monks’ dog did not make the monks happy.
The view from COP 1 was fantastic during the day.
Our break/healing time was over. That afternoon we would get a
new mission. What follows below are summaries of my last three
missions as 1-0 of RT Michigan. They were great missions, and I
thoroughly enjoyed my time in and out of combat with Eldon
Bargewell. He would become one of my two special operations
mentors for over 50 years.

RT Michigan Mission 3: Search & Destroy Who Let the

Dogs Out? SOG #7 Summary (7 FEB 69)
RT Michigan’s mission was to search, find and destroy an NVA
Regimental Unit (~2,000 men) operating near the Laos–North
Vietnam border.

Mission 3 Team Roster

Name Position
LT Thompson 1-0
SGT Bargewell 1-1
Cantua Interpreter
Hieng M-79
Camba Pointman 1
Pua M-79
Acat Tail Gunner 1
Part of the mission prep was conducting a VR of the AO. To
maximize time, I left Bargewell with the team to work on skill
development while I flew the VR, which did not go well. The air was
very rough, and the plane’s right wing was hit with three rounds of
NVA .51 caliber machine gun fire. The flaps were okay, but we were
leaking fuel. We returned to base with only a few pictures of the AO,
but I did see several small clearings that could be used for LZs. There
were also some small cliffs that could be used for observation of the
highway.
When I got back, Bargewell and I decided that Hieng and Pua
would carry M-79 grenade launchers, and I would carry a sawed- off
grenade launcher in addition to my CAR-15 and .22 pistol. The
additional area fire weapons would give us more fire power in this
terrain. Our close proximity to the North Vietnam border required us
to have a flight of F-4s flying combat air patrol (CAP) to keep North
Vietnamese MiGs away.
Insertion
We inserted using two Kingbees. Cantua, Hieng, Camba and I were
on the first aircraft, with Bargewell, Pua and Acat on the second. It
was a smooth insertion and we moved out quietly after a security
halt. As we started to move, I could smell decomp in the air. Soon
Camba signaled that he smelled it too. We found a day-old, partially
eaten deer. Cantua said, “Tigers.” That got everyone’s attention. This
was a Yard team. They grew up in the jungle and were very familiar
with what tigers could do to a human. Camba became even more
vigilant.
The ridgeline was wide and rugged, with thick canopy and lots of
undergrowth. The thick underbrush restricted airflow, increased the
temperature and reduced visibility. Within two hours after our
insertion, we heard bamboo clackers being used by trackers and a
muffled dog bark. We were not expecting dogs—or tigers! A few
minutes later Pua found tiger scat. His village had had a lot of
problems with tigers. They were snatching people at night and
running off into the jungle with them. The scat made him more
afraid of being snatched and dragged off into the jungle by a tiger
than walking up on an NVA. I noticed my search pattern had
automatically added new factors: tiger “smell,” and more sensitivity
to the color orange.
Tigers can weigh 500–600 pounds and easily run 40 miles an
hour. The fastest human can run 27.5 MPH (Usain Bolt ran this fast
for a little under ten seconds in 2009). A tiger can take down and
drag a 1,500-lb guar bull a long distance. One swipe of a tiger’s paw
can easily decapitate a human. They like to go for the neck for a quick
kill. Avoid tigers!
We had been on the ground for an hour and were adjusting to
thoughts of tigers when two North Vietnamese MiGs tried to
approach our AO. Our F-4 Combat Air Patrol (CAP) destroyed one
MiG and sent the other scrambling back to North Vietnam. The
aerial combat engagement was too far away for our team to know
what was happening. Covey transmitted an alphanumeric code to let
me know there had been some MiG activity in the area, but all was
clear.
RON
We continued to move until about 30 minutes before EENT and
found a good RON site. We did a fishhook maneuver to enter the
RON. I put out toe poppers on the path just before we made our turn
to go to the RON. Once in the site we put out our normal defensive
Claymores. Around 2220 we heard a muffled dog bark and yelp
about 100 meters from us. Cantua whispered, “Tiger eat dog. This
number ten. Not good.” I knew no one would sleep that night. We
heard vehicular traffic on the road, but we were not in a position to
see what was happening, and it was too dangerous to try to move
closer to the road in the dark. It was very likely that the trackers
knew our general location. It rained very hard for about 90 minutes
during the night, hard enough to help conceal our path.
Day 2
About 30 minutes after BMNT, we recovered the toe poppers and
Claymores and moved to a cliff site I saw during the VR. The cliff
gave us a good view of the valley and a couple of segments of the
road. The air was very calm, allowing us to see smoke from cooking
fires hanging in the jungle canopy. There appeared to be three areas
of troop concentrations. We set up our defenses and began to
observe the valley. Because we did not get much sleep the night
before, we rotated sleeping during the day. We were going to have a
long night ahead of us as we began putting air strikes on the NVA
positions. By late afternoon we were confident that we knew the
location of the leadership element of the regiment. Covey relayed all
the targeting data to the launch site, which was given to the Air Force
for targeting.
About an hour before dark, Covey returned with F-4s and A-1s.
The amount of anti-aircraft and machine gun fire combined with
secondary explosions confirmed that we had dialed in the targets.
The strikes were too accurate to have been a lucky guess. The NVA
knew there was a team nearby directing the strikes. The enemy
patrol activity in the area around us picked up dramatically. It was
now dark making it more difficult for them to move quietly, thus,
easier for us to hear them. We were not moving which gave us an
advantage. But we still had to deal with the dogs.
 Dogs have extremely good hearing and smell. They don’t always
have to follow a scent on a trail. Under the right conditions dogs
could pick up our scent from a distance of several miles (depending
on the type of dog). Fortunately, a breeze was blowing toward the
team relative to the dogs’ locations reducing the distance they could
smell us. (A tiger’s sense of smell is much shorter than a dog’s.) The
dogs were still trying to pick up our scent on the ground and follow it
to us. I had learned from previous encounters that dogs learn to
detect the powdered CS (tear gas) at greater and greater distances as
they encounter more places where we have left some behind to
disrupt their sense of smell. Soon they learned to follow the CS
deposits from a distance and go around where we put it on the
ground. Dogs are smarter than they look. We stopped using CS and
began leaving black pepper, which worked better.
Around 0330 we heard a tiger get a dog and its handler. The
handler’s scream was scary. As the NVA continued to get closer to
finding us we got lucky. Covey brought in a C-130 Spectre gunship
that could link to our Spectre transponder and shoot all around us
without us having to mark our position with flares or strobe lights
the NVA could see. Technology was continuing to enhance SOG RTs’
mission abilities.
By 0400 we were in heavy contact and had to declare a Prairie
Fire Emergency and bring in Close Air Support (CAS) to help us try
to get to our extraction LZ. It soon became evident that we could not
survive to get to the LZ. We adapted our plan to be extracted by
strings. We had put on Swiss seats while we were in the RON just in
case we could not get to the LZ. At first light we were extracted by
strings while the whole area was pounded by napalm and Cluster
Bomb Units (CBUs) from F-4s and rockets, miniguns and 40mm
grenades from Cobras.
Lessons Learned
Tigers are out there even if you can’t hear them.
Tigers will eat dogs and their handlers if they get a chance.
Dogs have a better developed smell (and range) than tigers, and
they learn and adapt quickly. Carry a backup bottle of black
pepper.
The hand-held transponder for the Spectre worked great.
 Tiger scat raises everyone’s situational awareness and fear to a
level that can become a distraction to sensing the enemy’s
presence.
Always have an alternate means of extraction available.

RT Michigan Mission 4: Pipeline Destruction & Monkey

Business. SOG #8 Summary (18 FEB 69)
RT Michigan was assigned the mission of finding a high-volume fuel
pipeline coming out of North Vietnam and running to refuel points
along the Ho Chi Minh highway and destroying a section of it.

Mission 4 Team Roster

Name Position
LT Thompson 1-0
SGT Bargewell 1-1
Cantua Interpreter
Hieng M-79
Pua Pointman
Chung Tail Gunner
Aita Pointman 2
The VR I flew was cut short because of the heavy AAA and
damage sustained to the aircraft.
We made an early evening insertion, security halt, then moved
quickly to a predetermined RON position. Two venomous snakes
were discovered during our movement to the RON. We also heard
trackers with clackers who had picked up our trail. All the conditions
were right for this to be a long night. Our plan was to find the
pipeline before going after the trackers. At approximately 2300 a
ten-man NVA search team walked within eight feet of our perimeter.
There were several close calls with the NVA as we got closer to the
pipeline. Around 1600 on Day 2 we found the pipeline and
discovered that there were regular NVA security patrols of 3–4 NVA
that passed by our area approximately every four hours. We moved
300 meters away from the pipeline to a rocky area near some cliffs
for our RON. This area would provide a relatively safe place while we
prepared our demolition charges and got some rest. Everything went
great until 0130, then we heard movement between us and the cliffs.
As they got closer the size of the group seemed to grow to squad size,
then platoon and finally company-size (120–130). I called
Moonbeam and requested support. Moonbeam found a Spectre
gunship in range of our position and diverted it to us.
I used the new, experimental transponder I had been given to
send out an electronic signal to mark our position so the NVA would
not know where we were. Spectre flew several passes between us and
the cliffs. We could hear the screams as over a hundred 20mm HE
rounds hit the ground beside us and the side of the cliffs. I had
Spectre hit two other spots in the AO to help confuse the NVA as to
where we might be. You had to see the impact of those rounds to
comprehend the firepower. In less than ten seconds, a Spectre
gunship could put one 20mm HE round in every square yard of a
football-field-sized area. There were a few moans and groans for a
while, then silence. Spectre had done its job. We got a big surprise as
we moved out at daylight. The jungle around us was littered with
bodies and body parts—of big apes. There has been no definitive
proof of “rock apes”—people-like creatures standing six feet tall, but
these were really big apes. When asked for an estimated body count,
I replied, “Forty.”
When we arrived at the pipeline, I notified Covey that we were on
target waiting on the security patrol. When the patrol arrived,
Bargewell and I quickly terminated the NVA using our .22 pistols
with integrated silencers. Our designated security team moved into
place while the rest of us set the charges (20 pounds of C-4 with a
WP grenade). We then activated the time fuse with 20 minutes’
burning time and quickly moved 100 meters to a second spot on the
pipeline, placed our second charge and ignited a five-minute time
fuse.
We then began moving quickly toward the extraction LZ. I left toe
poppers along our path as we moved. The two 20-pound C-4 charges
made tremendous explosions letting the fuel run out on the ground.
The WP grenades made sure the fuel ignited. It was an awesome
fireworks display. We heard one set of toe poppers explode and knew
the NVA were close to us. Then we ran into a group of 20 who
seemed to be unhappy. Fortunately, by this time Covey had F-4s on
station following our targeting directions to hit the pipeline in more
places with a mixture of HEs and napalm. Their strikes produced
secondary explosions at the refueling stations. A-1s provided close
air support for RT Michigan, which was now a Prairie Fire
Emergency. After about two hours of difficult fighting, we were
extracted under heavy fire. The mission was a success, and we did
not lose anyone.
Lessons Learned
Rock apes travel in large groups and will attack RTs as they did
us.
The Spectre transponder works great and does not give your
position away.
The NVA patrol their pipelines.
WP grenades and Napalm help ensure a great fire.
The .22 pistols with integrated silencers worked great on small
patrols.
Rocky terrain provides cover and concealment but slows and
channels movement.
Rocky terrain creates an urge not to move. The NVA are always
maneuvering.

RT Michigan Mission 5: Bomb Damage Assessment & The

Chinese Connection. SOG #9 Summary (25 FEB 1969)
RT Michigan’s mission was to follow closely behind a B-52 strike in
Laos and assess the bomb damage, collect intelligence from bodies
and take a prisoner if possible. The indigenous team members were
told we were going on a PW snatch; Bargewell and I were the only
members of the team who knew about the B-52 strike.

Mission 5 Team Roster

Name Position
LT Thompson 1-0
SGT Bargewell 1-1
Cantua Interpreter Hieng M-79
Camba Pointman 1
Pua Pointman 3
Rapun Tail Gunner
 While I went on a VR of the area, Bargewell prepared the team for
the mission by doing more PW capture training—especially how to
secure them, put on a pre-made Swiss seat and a flak jacket and
helmet. They worked with handcuffs, gags, head bags, morphine
syrettes, duct tape, control ropes, etc. We really wanted to get a live
one back to the launch site this time.
The VR did not go well. The flight was rough, it was cloudy and
rainy with lots of AAA. The right wing took some damage causing us
to only have approximately 15 minutes over the AO.
When it was time for our team to be inserted, our flight to the LZ
had to be closely coordinated. All aircraft and RT Michigan had to
remain over 3,000 meters from the target box (a one by two mile
area) for at least 15 minutes after the last 500 pound bomb landed on
target. With the exception of the smoke, rough air, fires all across the
target area, and what looked like the aftermath of a Level 5
hurricane, we were able to get into our insertion LZ (approx. 500
meters from the target box) without contact and move quickly to a
security halt. It took a little longer than normal to acclimate our
senses.
As we neared the target box, trees were scattered all around and
there were lots of bomb craters throughout the area. Over 300
bombs (75 tons of explosives and shrapnel) had been dropped in the
target box. We made our way slowly around, over and under the
fallen trees and around craters that were large enough to set a house
in.
The smell of smoke and explosives was very strong. The air was
difficult to breathe without choking. It was difficult to see because of
the smoke, dust and ashes. We could still hear secondary explosions
and an occasional tree falling. There were screams and shouting in
the distance.
We took pictures of the damage, body parts and bodies.
Everything was surreal as we cautiously moved toward the center of
the target box. As we moved into our RON around 1830, just before
last light, we heard what everyone agreed was a helicopter flying just
above the canopy and landing on the other side of the ridge. I
notified Covey. He said it was cloudy and low light and he did not see
an aircraft in the area. He had no knowledge of a CIA mission taking
place in the area. We put out our defenses and settled into our RON.
During the night we continued to hear explosions, screams and a lot
of vehicular noise. Bargewell and I were confident we would get a PW
the next day.
Day 2
We made heavy contact with a company-size NVA force. As the NVA
initially withdrew they left a concussed NVA soldier behind. We were
all over him. He was quickly put in a flak jacket and helmet, gagged,
head-bagged, handcuffed and lightly sedated with morphine. The
NVA realized we were a small group and had captured one of their
people. They regrouped and assaulted us. I called Covey, told him we
had a PW, were in heavy contact, were declaring a Prairie Fire
Emergency and moving toward the extraction LZ.
It seemed strange, but we could already hear the extraction
helicopter approaching. I told Covey we were approximately 100
meters from the LZ but moving very slowly. He might want to have
the helicopter circle around and come back. Covey said our
helicopter was still 45 minutes out from the LZ. That did not make
sense. It began to rain harder as we continued to fight our way
toward the LZ. Then we saw a group of NVA running to the LZ in
front of us with a tall soldier, dressed in a different type of uniform
running with them. I could not get a good camera shot. I told Covey
there was another team with us. The tall guy looked Chinese. A
strange looking helicopter (not US, not Vietnamese) popped out of
the clouds down to the LZ, and a few seconds later, it was back up
into the clouds with people on it. The pictures I took of the men
running toward the LZ and the aircraft lifting off were blurred and
cloudy when reviewed later. We weren’t able to determine the
nationality of the men or origin of the aircraft.
We remained in contact and used A-1s to pound our attackers for
an hour before we were extracted. The team was tired and hungry
and eager to get back to CCN. We boarded the Kingbee and bounced
all over the sky in the bad weather all the way “home.” Our prisoner
bled out on the way back. Two AK-47 rounds went through the flak
jacket and penetrated his lung. I don’t think the flak jacket even
slowed the bullets down. I had been considering wearing one, but it
appeared it would have been a waste of my time. Flak jackets do not
stop bullets, plus they were heavy, hot, and restricted our movement,
which is why SOG teams did not wear them.
AAR
No one seemed to believe we saw a Chinese helicopter and
advisor.
The team really performed well. Great execution of IADs and
movement during contact.
Even if you see the damage a B-52 strike does, it’s difficult to
believe.
The whole area was covered with bodies and body parts.
Roads, bridges, houses, vehicles and the terrain were destroyed.
Once again our prisoner was dead by the time we got back to the
launch site.
We did, however, recover a lot of high value documents from the
bodies.

Lessons Learned
We were not the only ones out there.
The enemy who survives a B-52 strike is really upset and will try
to kill you.
The team put out enough firepower during initial contact to
cause an NVA company to initially run from us. We scared them.
They are human too.
The only way you knew the B-52s were there was when the
world began to explode. You could not see nor hear them.
It was a relief to get back to CCN. We had been promised a two-
day R&R starting the next day. No new missions for two days, and we
needed it. At this point I had completed 9 “across the fence” SOG
missions as well as some in-country missions.
We were all looking forward to cleaning up, eating and starting
recovery. I knew that within a couple of hours I would have a full
stomach and be sleeping like a baby. Bargewell and I would do a
quick AAR and lessons learned with the team right after breakfast
the next morning and let them go for a couple of days.
When we landed, Bargewell and I cleaned up and met at the mess
hall to eat and do our own quick AAR/LL. We finished eating around
1930 and went back to our rooms. I did a quick clean and reload of
my CAR-15 and web gear and lay down across my bed. Then I heard
a loud knock on my door followed by, “Lieutenant Thompson. Are
you in there?”
“Yes. What do you want?”
When he told me, I said, “You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“No, Sir. 2000 hours. That’s eight minutes from now. Careful
what you say, Sir. He’s on the other side of your plywood wall!”
“Crap! Just another day in SOG.”
To be continued…

OceanofPDF.com
 Coming soon to Amazon…

The second book in this series. If you thought Book 1 was intense,
wait until you read about the insane missions in Book 2.
OceanofPDF.com
 Acknowledgments

I found that writing a semi-autobiography about traumatic events of

war that occurred in my life over 50 years ago to be the most difficult
and emotional writing task I have ever undertaken. That probably
contributed to putting off this project for most of my life. To
accomplish this task required the support, participation and patience
of my wife, my family, relatives, HPS team members, MACV-SOG
survivors, many friends, experts, colleagues and people who wanted
to see the end product, and especially my SOG friends and
teammates who made the ultimate sacrifice during 1968-69 and all
the air crews who saved me on a regular basis. This project, like
MACV-SOG missions, was a team effort. I do not know how to thank
everyone beyond mentioning some of you in this section—and to
apologize to the many more contributors who did not get mentioned
here.
SOG Colleagues/Friends
MG (Ret.) Eldon Bargewell, MG (Ret.) Ken Bowra, John Stryker
Meyer, MAJ (Ret.) Richard (Dick) Meadows, Bruce Lombard, COL
(Ret.) Richard Todd, LTC (Ret.) David Carr, Lynne Black, Gentry
Deck, CW4 (Ret.) Vernon Ward, Terry Cadenbach, Dan Thompson,
Don Haase, COL (Ret.) Barry Pencek, Russ Mann, MAJ (Ret.)
Nguyen Quy An, Mike Stahl, Ken Holmes and Bill Barkley.
SOG History Keepers
Steve Sherman, Bonnie Cooper, Jason Alexander, Bud Gibson, Jason
Collins, MAJ (Ret.) John L. Plaster, MG (Ret.) Ken Bowra and John
Stryker Meyer.
Manuscript Readers
Grenae Thompson, Michele Thompson Bruce, Stephen Thompson,
Eric Brown, Debra Cannarella, Andy Cannarella, Rob Graham, Carl
Hudson, MG (Ret.) Ken Bowra, John Stryker Meyer, Bruce Lombard,
COL (Ret.) Richard Todd, LTC (Ret.) David Carr, Dan Thompson,
Don Haase, COL (Ret.) Barry Pencek, Jason Collins, COL (Ret.)
Mark London, Bruce Christensen, Holly H. McClellan and Faith
Meyer.
Graphics and Imaging Team
Rich Niles, Ian King, Merry Maxey, Sam McIntire, John Stryker
Meyer, Vivian Edwards, Pucker Factor Magazine, Jason Collins, Rob
Graham and Jacqueline Cook.
Special Encouragement and Support
Grenae Thompson, Michele Thompson Bruce, Stephen Thompson,
Jennifer Thompson-Brown, Eric Brown, CW4 (Ret.) Larry K. (Butch)
Thompson, Mary Margaret McClellan, Jamie McClellan, Isabella
Bruce, Kendall Brown, Shiloh Brown, Carl Hudson, Derrill
Thompson, Debra Cannarella, Julie Gentry, Marcia Swoger, Curt
Cisrow, Farrell Collins, Merry Maxey, Dana Smith, Ian King, Rose
Niles, Susan Hunter, MAJ (Ret.) John Reichley, Dr. Harvey Gayer,
Mike Hamor, COL (Ret.) Mark London, Randy McGhee, Richard
Fitts, Jr., Mike McGee, COL (Ret.) Larry Hammack, Jocko Willink
and Andy Strumpf.
Final Editing
Grenae Thompson, Faith Meyer, Jacqueline Cook and John Stryker
Meyer.
I want to reiterate my thanks to my two SOG/Special Operations
mentors, colleagues and friends, MG Eldon Bargewell and MAJ Dick
Meadows, both of whom are Special Ops legends who stayed awake
in the cold of night protecting the freedom of our country as the rest
of us slept. I am honored, humbled and proud to have had time in
your presence. They say that not all of God’s angels sing. Some are
warriors. I’m sure you are among those. Rest in Peace, brave
warriors. You will never be forgotten. De Oppresso Liber.
OceanofPDF.com
In Honor of My SOG Teammates/ Friends Lost During 1968–
1969
OceanofPDF.com
 Glossary

1911A1 – The Army issue .45 caliber pistol.

A-1 Skyraider – Sometimes called “Spad” or “Sandy” was a single-
seat, propeller-driven attack aircraft that was used between the
late 1940s and early 1970s. The A-1 could carry a very heavy load
and variety of ordnance, fly low and slow, and provide accurate
close air support. These planes and pilots played a major role in
supporting SOG operations.
AA – Anti-aircraft gun
AAA – Anti-aircraft artillery
AAR (After Action Review) – When teams returned from a
mission they would be debriefed in detail on the different stages of
the mission, including things that went well and those that didn’t.
A detailed report would be written about the operation that could
be used by future teams going into this area or conducting this
type of mission. The AAR helped the team learn from each mission
and increase their skill set.
ABCCC (Airborne Battlefield Command and Control
Center) – This was an EC-130E aircraft that provided a tactical
airborne command post that orbited very high above a SOG team’s
Area of Operation. It monitored all radio communications and
provided SOG teams 24/7 radio contact. The daytime call sign was
Hillsboro and nighttime was Moonbeam.
Across the Fence – Across the South Vietnam border into another
country, mostly Laos, Cambodia and North Vietnam.
AGL (Above Ground Level) – The actual altitude above the
ground directly below the aircraft.
AH-1 – Cobra attack helicopters which could carry mini-guns (firing
4,000 rounds a minute), a 40mm grenade launcher (firing up to
250 rounds per minute) and up to 48, 2.75-inch rockets with 17-
pound high explosive warheads. They provided exceptionally
effective close air support.
AK-47 – The Avtomat Kalashnikova assault rifle (designed by
Mikhail Kalashnikov in 1947) was the primary assault rifle used by
the NVA. It fired a 7.62x39mm round at a cyclic rate of automatic
fire of 600 rounds per minute. It also had a semi-automatic mode.
AO (Area of Operation) – The area in which a team would be
operating in Laos, Cambodia, North Vietnam or the DMZ. Many
had specific designations within the general area, e.g., Oscar 8.
Arc Light – A B-52 bombing mission that normally consisted of 3–
6 planes flying in formation from an altitude of around 40,000 feet
with each plane dropping up to 110, 500-pound bombs.
Arm Squeeze – A technique for silently waking up team members
at night without making any noise by slowly squeezing the person’s
triceps. This was practiced before going on a mission.
ARVN – The Army of the Republic of South Vietnam. South
Vietnamese soldiers. Our allies.
AST-North – Area Support Team-North. Responsible for collecting
target data and supporting RTs going into northern targets.
AST-South – Area Support Team-South. Responsible for collecting
target data and supporting RTs going into southern targets.
Avgas – Aviation fuel (gasoline) used in spark-ignited internal
combustion aircraft engines (like the H-34 Kingbees).
B-40 – A very effective reloadable shoulder-fired Rocket Propelled
Grenade launcher (RPG-2) used by the NVA to engage tanks,
helicopters and personnel. Sometimes carried by SOG teams.
BDA (Bomb Damage Assessment) – Assessing the damage
caused by B-52 strikes (and sometimes other types of air strikes).
Beeper – A radio transmitter that sends a high pitch tone on the
“Guard” frequency monitored by all friendly aircraft. All US SOG
team members carried a URC-10 that had a beeper as part of the
radio.
Binh Tram – A regimental-sized logistical unit responsible for
specific sections of the Ho Chi Minh Trail. Much less skilled and
aggressive than the Anti-SOG NVA soldiers.
Blackbirds – US Air Force C-130 and C-123 aircraft painted black.
Used to transport SOG personnel and for other classified missions.
BMNT (Beginning of Morning Nautical Twilight) – The time
in the morning when the sun is just below the horizon (about 12
degrees) but giving off enough light so you can see about 100
meters and move relatively quietly and accurately. The term
“attacking at first light” comes from this time of day.
Booby Trap – A “homemade” device made using available
explosives (artillery shells, grenades, etc.) and detonating devices
(trip wires, phones, etc.) and usually hidden so you don’t see it
before it explodes.
Born On the Path – Some people seem to be born on a particular
path (abilities, skill sets, etc.) that moves them toward a particular
fate or accomplishment in life.
Box Breathing – A breathing pattern of inhaling through the nose
for 4–8 seconds, pausing for 4–8 seconds, exhaling through the
mouth for 4–8 seconds, pausing for 4–8 seconds and then starting
the cycle again. Doing 5–6 reps of this cycle at a time causes the
Vagus nerve to begin relaxing the heart and arteries, taking the
mind out of the fight, flight or freeze response.
Bright Light – A code word for a heavily armed RT that is inserted
across the border to recover downed pilots, missing RT members/
teams or bring back proof of death. These were very dangerous
missions.
Browning Hi-Power – A 9mm, semi-automatic pistol with a 13-
round magazine carried by some SOG members.
BRU – Montagnard tribesmen used on SOG teams.
C-4 – A plastic explosive which uses RDX as its primary explosive
agent. It can be shaped by hand. Requires a detonating device to
make it explode. It will burn slowly if lit and is poisonous.
CAP (Combat Air Patrol) – A flight of F-4s flying high overhead
looking for NVA MiGs that wanted to attack the RT. The F-4s
destroy or chase them away.
CAR-15 – A submachine gun with a collapsible stock. Starting in
1967, this was the preferred weapon carried by RT members. CAS
(Close Air Support) – The tactic of aircraft (e.g., gunships, F-4s,
A-1s) providing support to friendlies on the ground when they are
engaged with the enemy.
CBU (Cluster Bomb Units) – An air-dropped canister that breaks
open while in the air and spills out approximately 250 bomblets
(about the size of an orange, depending on the type) that rain
down on enemy personnel or vehicles/tanks. There are several
types and sizes of CBU that can be deployed.
CCC (Command and Control Central ) – The SOG base in
Kontum, for running missions into Southern Laos and Northern
Cambodia. Formerly FOB-2.
CCN (Command and Control North) –The field headquarters in
Da Nang, near Marble Mountain, for SOG missions into Laos, the
DMZ and North Vietnam. Originally called FOB-4.
CCR (Creedence Clearwater Revival) – A popular American
rock band.
CCS (Command and Control South) – The SOG base at Ban Me
Thuot for running missions mostly into Cambodia and South
Vietnam. Formerly FOB-5.
Charlie – A nickname given to the Viet Cong, local communists who
fought in South Vietnam.
Chief SOG – The title of the MACV-SOG Commander, for example,
COL Stephen E. Cavanaugh, AUG 68–AUG 69.
Claymore Mine – A directional anti-personnel mine. The inventor,
Norman Macleod, saw it as a large medieval Scottish sword cutting
a swath through the enemy. It contains approximately 700 steel
balls propelled by 1.5 pounds of C-4. The steel balls travel at
approximately 4,000 feet per second.
Cleared Hot – Giving the gunships/TAC air permission to fire on
their targets.
COP (Combat Outpost) – In general these outposts are small
bases used to provide early warning and defense of larger bases.
Marble Mountain, located approximately 300 meters from CCN,
had a COP located on each of the two peaks of the mountain to
provide security and early warning for the compound. RTs rotated
through these positions between missions.
Covey – An Air Force Forward Air Controller (FAC) that flew into
the team’s AO with a Covey rider (an experienced SOG team 1-0)
on board. The FAC could talk to and control Air Force assets (A-1
 Skyraiders & F-4 Phantom jets) and the Covey provided control of
Army, Marine and ARVN assets and communicated directly with
the SOG team. Covey was the team’s lifeline, without which the
team would probably not survive.
Covey Rider – The Covey rider was an experienced SOG team 1-0,
such as Robert “Spider” Parks, drawing on his extensive ground
experience to provide recommendations and calming words to
teams—especially during a Prairie Fire Emergency.
Cravat – An olive drab, cotton, triangular bandage that could also
be used for a tourniquet. SOG team members wore these “Rambo
style” around the forehead. They had many uses in addition to
bandages.
CS – A type of non-lethal “tear” gas (2-chlorobenzalmalononitirile)
used by the military as a riot control agent and used by SOG teams
to incapacitate the NVA and deter dogs tracking the team.
Developed by Ben Corson and Roger Stoughton in 1928, the gas
name is derived from their surnames (CS).
Danger Close – An artillery term meaning that you are calling the
rounds to land within 600 meters of friendly forces. Also used to
emphasize to gunships and TAC air that the target is very close to
friendly forces.
Det Cord – Abbreviation for detonation cord. An explosive cord
used for detonating other ordnance and clearing small trees.
DMZ (Demilitarized Zone) – The 17th parallel dividing North
and South Vietnam. It was off limits to all military personnel, but
SOG ran missions there any way. So did the NVA.
Dominance Response Hierarchy – This refers to the concept
that the more times you perform an action the more likely you are
to do it again, especially under stress. You are building mental and
muscle memory through repetition. This helps you get better.
Practice. Practice. Practice!
DZ (Drop Zone) – A landing area for parachutists.
EENT (End of Evening Nautical Twilight) – The time in the
evening when the sun is just below (about 12 degrees) the horizon
but giving off enough light so you can see about 100 meters and be
 able to move relatively quietly and accurately. The term “attacking
at last light” comes from this time of day.
F-4 Phantom – A two-seat, twin-engine, all-weather, long-range
supersonic jet interceptor and fighter-bomber (often called “fast
movers”). The F-4s provided Combat Air Patrol missions when
operating close to the North Vietnam border to ward off NVA MiGs
and maintain air superiority. They also provided bomber support
to teams in contact or to attack ground targets.
FAC (Forward Air Controller) – An Air Force Forward Air
Controller that flew into the team’s AO with a Covey rider (an
experienced SOG team 1-0) on board. The FAC could talk to and
control Air Force assets (A-1 Skyraiders & F-4 Phantom jets).
Fishhook – The technique of an RT making a wide, 180° fishhook-
shaped turn in its direction of movement, and stopping for a
security halt or RON. If the enemy is following the RT, they will
walk past the team before realizing the RT changed direction.
Hearing the enemy going by alerts the RT that it is being followed.
Flak Jacket – A flak jacket was a form of body armor (ballistic vest)
that members of the regular military units wore to provide
protection against bullets and shrapnel. SOG teams did not wear
them because they were too heavy, too hot, restricted movement
and were not bulletproof.
FMB (Final Mission Brief) – The final mission briefing with all
the asset representatives, operations and the team just prior to
launch.
FNG (Effing New Guy) – The new guy. Dangerous. Does not have
experience or knowledge of how to operate. Also gets teased a lot.
FOB (Forward Operating Base) – SOG operations bases located
around South Vietnam from which RTs and Hatchet Forces
operated.
Guard Frequency – An international distress and emergency
frequency monitored by all aircraft in the area of operation. The
URC-10 radio gave the Americans on RTs a way to contact Covey
and other aircraft if the RT’s main radio (PRC-25/77) quit working
or a team member was separated from the RT.
HALO (High Altitude, Low Opening) – Freefall parachute
jumps. These jumps could be from 30,000 feet or higher and open
as low as 2,000 feet (falling 28,000 feet) with full combat gear
(and oxygen) to avoid enemy detection.
HE (High Explosive) – a military term that describes rockets,
bombs, grenades, etc., that explode with great force and usually
sends many pieces of shrapnel out in all directions.
HF (Hatchet Force) – SOG platoon (approximately 40 indigenous
commandos plus American leaders) and company sized forces (3–
4 platoons plus Company leaders) used to conduct large scale
offensive operations against the NVA.
H & I Fire (Harassing and Interdicting Fire) – Periodic firing
of a few artillery rounds on random trails to harass the enemy and
keep him guessing as to where and when the next rounds would
land.
High Standard HD – A .22 caliber, pistol with an integrated
silencer. Very quiet. Carried by SOG teams to take out dogs,
trackers and guards.
Human Combat Reaction – A set of human behaviors/reactions I
identified by observing the NVA and SOG team members during
combat. For example, right handed people tend to shoot around
the right side of a tree/rock (from their perspective) unless they
had received a lot of training not to react that way. The NVA had
not received that training. My teams used this information to
increase their lethality significantly.
IAD (Immediate Action Drill) – A set of immediate reactions to
specific situations, e.g., enemy contact, ambushes, man down,
engaging multiple targets, assaulting, withdrawal, etc. We trained
over and over on these responses and variations of them. They
were life savers.
IED (Improvised explosive device) – A “homemade” device
made using available explosives (artillery shells, grenades, etc.)
and detonating devices (trip wires, phones, etc.) and usually
hidden so you don’t see it before it explodes.
Invisibility – I trained my teams on how to go beyond camouflage
and be totally invisible to all the senses. What makes the enemy
visible makes us visible.
Isolation Area – A restricted, classified and “isolated area” that is
accessible only by the RT and mission support personnel in
mission prep.
Jody Call – A song used to keep soldiers in cadence when marching
or running. It is about the mythical “Jody” who is living a life of
luxury in your hometown, dating your girlfriend or boyfriend while
you are away from home. Not all are about Jody despite the name.
JP-4 – Jet propellant version 4. A 50-50 blend of kerosene and
gasoline designed for use in turbine engines like the UH-1 Huey
and AH-1 Cobra helicopters.
KA-BAR Knife – A fixed-blade combat knife first adopted by the
Marines and later used by Special Operators. It comes in two blade
sizes: short (5 inches) and standard (7 inches).
KIA – Killed in action.
Kingbee – Call sign for the South Vietnamese Air Force 219th
Special Operations Squadron H-34 pilots who supported SOG
teams. They were known for their heroism.
KZ (Kill Zone) – That point in an ambush where maximum
firepower is produced to quickly kill the enemy.
LBE (Load Bearing Equipment) – A shoulder harness attached
to a wide belt around the waist used for carrying ammunition,
grenades, water, etc. Could weigh up to 35 pounds. A handle on the
top back of the harness facilitated dragging a wounded warrior.
Lift Ships – Consisted of CH-34 Kingbees flown by the 219th
Squadron, South Vietnamese Air Force (VNAF) and UH-1C/D
Army helicopters. Two sets of lift ships were involved in the
insertions and extractions. One set of aircraft carried the team to
the insertion Landing Zone (LZ) and from the extraction LZ. A
second set of lift ships flew empty as “chase” aircraft prepared to
pick up crew and team members of aircraft that went down during
the mission.
Little People – A term of endearment used by SOG Americans
when referring to their indigenous members.
Long Range Patrol Rations (LRP) – Dehydrated meals carried
by many RT members on missions. They were reconstituted by
soaking in water.
LZ (Landing Zone) – A clearing large enough that a helicopter can
land to insert RTs or extract them.
M or Mike – Minutes. For example, “The cobras are 5 mikes out.”
M-26 – Old fragmentation grenade.
M-33 – New “baseball” fragmentation grenade.
M-60 – A 7.62mm machine gun occasionally carried for additional
fire power.
M-72 – A Light Antitank Weapon (LAW), single shot and
disposable.
M-79 – A 40mm grenade launcher. RTs normally carried at least
one per team. Sometimes more. And sometimes one or more that
had the stock and barrel sawed off making the M-79 a big fat pistol
that kicked like a mule.
Makiwara Board – A mounted striking board, sometimes wrapped
in rope, for martial artists to practice striking to toughen their
knuckles and increase power.
McGuire Rig – A nylon rope of 120–150 feet with a large loop
made out of a heavy padded strap attached to the end of it. A bag
of sand is tied to the loop to give it enough momentum to
penetrate the jungle canopy. The other end of the rope is attached
to the floor of the helicopter. It is used when team members have
to be extracted from the jungle where the helicopter cannot land. A
small strap at the top of the loop fastens around your wrist to
prevent you from falling out.
MIA – Missing in Action.
MiG – The MiG-21 was North Vietnam’s best jet fighter aircraft and
was similar in capability to the American F-4. It was manufactured
in China.
Mike Force (The Mobile Strike Force Command) – A critical
part of the Army Special Forces during Vietnam. It consisted of
highly trained indigenous forces led by American Green Berets.
They were considered a force multiplier.
MM or Mike Mike – Millimeters, for example, “a 40mm high
explosive round.”
Montagnards – Mountain tribesmen who were recruited to fight
on SOG RTs and Hatchet Forces. Fearless fighters.
Napalm – A weaponized mixture of jellied gasoline that stuck to
people like glue. Very difficult to extinguish or remove from skin.
One of the most horrifying weapons in our inventory that burned
bodies to a crisp. Similar to the gates of hell opening.
NCO – Non-commissioned officer.
NKP (Nakhon Phanom Royal Thai Air Force Base) – A
launch site located in Thailand at Nakhon Phanom (NKP)
approximately 75 miles from the North Vietnam border.
Number 10 – English slang used by the Vietnamese. “Number 10”
is very bad. “Number 1” is very good.
Nungs – Highly respected Chinese tribesmen recruited for SOG.
NVA – The North Vietnamese Army. Probably the 4th best Army in
the world at the time. SOG RTs’ primary opponent.
One-One (1-1) – Code for the American SOG RT assistant team
leader.
One-Two (1-2) – Code for the American SOG RT radio operator.
One-Zero (1-0) – Code for the American SOG RT team leader.
Position based on experience, not rank. Required vetting. The 1-0
had final say about who stayed on the team.
Oscar 8 – The most deadly area of operation in Laos.
PCI (Pre-Combat Inspection) – A type of inspection I used with
my teams just prior to being launched on a mission to make sure
everyone had what he was supposed to have and it was secured
properly and he knew his role during the operation.
Pen Flare – A small flare fired by a single shot “pen gun.” Flares
came in different colors and were used to signal an RT’s location.
Sometimes confused for enemy tracers, especially green and white
flares.
Post Mission Training – I used Post-Mission Training to increase
team member/team skill sets in areas we did not do well on during
the last mission. I tried to instill the philosophy of every time you
do something you need to do it better than last time.
POW – Prisoner of war.
Prairie Fire Emergency – An emergency alert that an RT was in
contact with enemy forces and could not continue its mission and
was fighting for its life. The RT then became the number one
priority in Southeast Asia. Every asset (Army, Air Force, Marine
and Navy) within range and with ordnance was diverted to assist
the team.
Project Eldest Son – Various types of enemy ammunition were
rigged to explode when fired. SOG teams inserted this ammunition
in enemy ammunition caches or on enemy trails. This was a black
psychological ops project.
Pucker Factor – Pucker factor was/is a slang term referring to the
correlation between fear and the tightness of the sphincter muscle
around your anal orifice. The higher the fear/pucker factor the
tighter the sphincter.
Quang Tri – Launch site for FOB-1 and CCN teams going into Laos,
the DMZ or North Vietnam.
Real World – The United States. Home.
Rear Echelon Mother %&$ (REMF) – A non-operator SOG
support person who worked in the rear.
Ringer’s Solution – A solution containing sodium chloride,
potassium chloride, calcium chloride and sodium bicarbonate used
to restore blood volume rapidly when given intravenously.
RON (Remain Overnight) – A location where the RT planned to
spend the night.
RP (Rendezvous Point) – A prearranged meeting place.
Gunships, F-4s and A-1s would often have assigned RPs near
where an RT was being inserted or extracted while they waited to
perform their part of the mission.
RPD – The Ruchnoy Pulemyot Degtyaryova 7.72x39mm, drum-fed,
light machine gun with a high rate of fire. By late 1969, some SOG
teams were making modifications to the barrel to reduce the RPD’s
weight and increase maneuverability in the jungle. A powerful
weapon, but still heavy.
RPG (Rocket propelled grenade) – A shoulder-fired anti-tank
weapon used by the VC and NVA. Sometimes referred to as a B-40.
R & R (Rest and recuperation) – Time provided to allow a team
or team member to have some time to rest and recover.
RT (Reconnaissance Team) – Usually, 2–3 Americans and up to
nine indigenous members.
Rucksack – A backpack used by SOG team members to carry extra
ammunition, food, water, smoke grenades and special equipment.
It was typically very heavy (60–80 pounds).
Sandy – Another name for an A-1 Skyraider.
Sapper – Well-trained North Vietnamese forces that penetrated US
Forces’ perimeters with explosives and created significant death
and damage.
Scarface – Radio call sign assigned to Marine gunships assigned
from the HMLA 367 Squadron to support SOG missions.
Scat – Animal poop.
Schrodinger’s Cat – A quantum physics thought experiment
created by Erwin Schrodinger in 1935. If you place a cat and
something that could kill the cat in a box, you do not know if the
cat is alive or dead until you open the box. The cat exists in all
quantum states until you open the box. When you open the box all
quantum states collapse into one—the one that you see. A cat that
is alive or dead. You don’t know what will happen on a mission
until you open the box.
Slicks – UH-1 helicopters used to transport SOG teams.
Sling Rope/Swiss Seat – A 12-foot-long piece of nylon climbing
rope used to make a Swiss seat for extraction on “strings” and
extemporaneous uses.
Situation Report (SITREP) – Reports sent by radio from RTs
explaining their situation during their mission.
Snake Eaters – A nickname for Special Forces.
SOG – Military Assistance Command Vietnam’s Studies and
Observations Group (MACV-SOG), a highly classified special
operations unit that conducted unconventional warfare operations
in Southeast Asia from 24 January1964 to 1 May 1972. They were
the elite of the elite, the most BA men who walked the face of the
earth during that period. They had the highest kill ratio as well as
 the highest casualty rate of any unit in the Vietnam war. They were
the secret warriors that did not exist.
Spad (SPAD) – Another name for an A-1 Skyraider.
Spectre – A Lockheed C-130 Hercules converted to a gunship that
housed two 20mm M61 Vulcan cannons, one 40mm L60 Bofors
cannon (120 rpm) and a 105mm M102 howitzer (6–10 rpm).
STABO Harness (STAbilized BOdy) – A modified LBE harness
with leg straps that can be quickly fastened if you need to be
extracted by strings. You cannot fall out of the harness, and it
provides a more stabilized flight when flying through the air under
the helicopter.
Sten Gun – World War II Sten Mk IIS Submachine gun carried by
some SOG teams until replaced by CAR-15 in 1967.
Strap Hanger – Someone who is assigned to an RT at the last
minute to help fill in for a missing team member. Sometimes a
person who volunteers to go with the team to help out.
Strings – Up to four nylon ropes 120–150 feet in length hung from
a helicopter that the team members could attach to by various
methods (Swiss seat, McGuire rig, snap link, STABO) and be
extracted up through the jungle canopy from an area with no LZ.
Strobe Light – A small, powerful blinking light used to mark the
team or a team member’s location.
Swedish K – A 9mm submachine gun carried by some SOG teams
until replaced by CAR-15 in 1967.
Swiss Seat – A simple improvised rappelling or extraction harness
quickly made from a piece of 12-foot-long nylon rope that provides
a “seat” that can be attached to a rope and used for rappelling or
“string” extraction. Hanging in the seat for periods of longer than
20 minutes may cause the legs to “go to sleep” due to restricted
blood circulation. See also McGuire Rig, STABO Harness.
Syrette – A small syringe with a metal tube containing morphine
with a needle attached. Each American RT member carried several
of these on missions.
TAC Air (Tactical Air Support) – It usually came as F-4
Phantom jets and/or A-1 Skyraiders.
TBI (Traumatic Brain Injury) – An injury to the brain caused by
a traumatic blow to the head. Often caused in combat by
concussion from explosions.
TOC (Tactical Operations Center) – A command post staffed
with specially trained personnel who provide guidance and
support for RTs during missions.
Toe-Popper – An M-14 plastic mine large enough to blow off an
enemy’s toes or foot if he stepped on it.
Tracers – Ammunition that has a pyrotechnic charge in the base of
the projectile that burns very bright once the projectile leaves the
barrel. The projectile is visible even in the daytime. It burns very
hot and will cause the weapon’s barrel to heat up more quickly
than normal, especially with automatic fire.
URC-10 – An ultra-high frequency emergency radio with a beeper.
All SOG team Americans carried one. You could communicate to
any aircraft within range on the Guard frequency.
VC (Viet Cong) – Vietnamese communists who operated in South
Vietnam. Sometimes referred to as “Charlie.”
VR (Visual Reconnaissance) – Flying over a target area to pick
LZs for insertion and extraction, to view and photograph the
terrain, and check for activity.
VS-17 Panels – Brightly colored (orange on one side, pink on the
other), 24” x 70” panels used by SOG RTs for marking their
position, LZs and other objects. RTs often cut the panels to make
them smaller and easier to carry. I had the orange side sewn into
the inside of our boonie hats. We would turn the orange side out
when running for the helicopter under fire to prevent the door
gunners from mistaking us for the enemy.
WIA – Wounded in action.
WP (White Phosphorus) – WP is one of the common forms of
phosphorus used for creating dense white smoke, illumination and
incendiary munitions. It is used in WP grenades, rocket warheads,
artillery rounds and bombs, etc. WP causes severe burns when it
comes in contact with the human body and is extremely caustic to
the eyes and lungs.
Zero-One (0-1) – Indigenous leader on the RT. Zero-Two (0-2) –
The indigenous RT interpreter. Zero-Nine (0-9) – SOG team M-79
member.

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 About the Author

HENRY L. (Dick) THOMPSON, Ph.D.

(aka Dynamite)
LIEUTENANT COLONEL
US Army, Retired
President & CEO of High Performing Systems, Inc.
LTC (Ret.) Thompson enlisted into the Army in 1967 at Fort Jackson,
SC, as an 11B Infantryman. After completing Basic and Advanced
Infantry training, he attended Officer Candidate School at Fort
Benning, GA, and was commissioned as a Second Lieutenant in the
US Army Infantry in January 1968.
MILITARY AND CIVILIAN EDUCATION: LTC Thompson
earned a Bachelor of Arts Degree in Sociology from Methodist
University, Fayetteville, NC; Master of Science Degree and Doctoral
degrees (Ph.D.) in Psychology from the University of Georgia,
Athens, GA; and a Master of Science Degree in Continuous Military
Operations from the US Army Command and General Staff College,
Fort Leavenworth, KS. He is also a graduate of the Infantry Officer
Advanced Course, Fort Benning, GA, and the US Army Command
and General Staff Officers Course, Fort Leavenworth, KS.
ASSIGNMENT HIGHLIGHTS: After commissioning, LTC
Thompson’s first assignment was as an Instructor, US Army Special
Warfare School, 3rd Special Forces Group, Fort Bragg, NC, in
February of 1968. In September of 1968 he was selected to be a team
leader with MACV- SOG, 5th Special Forces Group, in the Republic
of Vietnam. In January 1970, after finishing his combat tour, he was
assigned as an instructor in the US Army Infantry School Ranger
Department and stationed at Camp Frank D. Merrill, Dahlonega, GA.
In May 1974, he assumed command of Company B (Ranger), 1st
Battalion, 23rd Infantry, 2nd Infantry Division, Korea. In June 1975,
he moved to XVIII Airborne Corps G3 (Training) as an Action Officer
until taking command of Company A, REPTRAIN Battalion, Fort
Bragg, NC. In February 1977, he returned to XVIII Airborne Corps
G3 (Training) as an Emergency Readiness Deployment evaluator for
Special Forces and Ranger units. In June 1979, he became an
Assistant Professor of Military Science and Executive Officer at the
University of Georgia Army ROTC Department. In June 1982, he
became the Leadership Author/Instructor, US Army Center for
Leadership and Ethics, US Army Command and General Staff
College Leadership Department, Fort Leavenworth, KS. He served in
several instructional and research roles until being assigned as the
Professor of Military Science at the University of Georgia Army
ROTC department in June 1986. He retired from the US Army in
January of 1988 after 21 years of military service.
AWARDS AND DECORATIONS: LTC Thompson’s military
awards and decorations include 4 Bronze Star Medals, 2 with a “V”
for heroism, 2 Meritorious Service Medals, 2 Air Medals for aerial
combat, one with “V” for heroism, Vietnamese Cross of Gallantry for
Heroism, 3 Army Commendation Medals, Army Achievement Medal,
Presidential Unit Emblem, Meritorious Unit Emblem, Presidential
Unit Citation for Extraordinary Heroism, Army Good Conduct
Medal, National Defense Service Medal, Vietnam Service Medal (5th
award), Army Service Ribbon, Overseas Service Ribbon, Korean
Defense Service Medal, Combat Infantryman’s Badge, Master
Parachutist’s Badge, Military Free-Fall Parachutist’s Badge,
Vietnamese Parachutist’s Badge, Pathfinder Badge, Ranger Tab and
Special Forces Tab.
You can contact Dr. Thompson at: [email protected]
Other books by LTC (Ret.) Henry Thompson, Ph.D.

The CommunicationWheel®: A Resource Book, 1995, 2000

Jung’s Function Attitudes Explained, 1996
Introduction to The CommunicationWheel®, 2000
Introduction to FIRO® Element B® in Organizations, 2006
The Handbook for Developing Social and Emotional Intelligence
(Co-Author), 2009
The Stress Effect: Why Smart Leaders Make Dumb Decisions—And
What to do About It, 2010

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 Veteran Support

During my time in SOG I had many opportunities to learn about

stress, fear and the human reaction to combat. I incorporated what I
had learned, into leading and training my teams and the units I led
and trained during my military career. I adapted my learnings and
experiences into my work with corporate organizations, especially
high stress groups, during my corporate career. I compiled many of
these insights into my book, The Stress Effect (Jossey-Bass, 2010).

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 Veteran Suicide Awareness

In 2019 I participated in a challenge designed to raise veteran suicide

awareness. At that time, it was estimated that 22 veterans a day
ended their life by suicide. The 22 pushups challenge (started
originally by Honor, Courage Commitment, Inc.) was/is to do 22
pushups a day for 22 consecutive days.
When I began this challenge, my research indicated that the
actual number of veteran suicides was closer to 50 a day and active-
duty suicides was at least one a day. I increased my daily pushups to
60+ a day and decided not to stop the consecutive days at 22. I put
my pushup activity on social media and did pushups during Veterans
Day speeches and other presentations. At times I do 220 a day for 22
consecutive days.

I work with the Military (U.S. and allies), veterans groups, law
enforcement, fire fighters, first responders and individuals using the
ARSENAL™, a Stress Resilience questionnaire. The ARSENAL™ is
an online questionnaire designed to help individuals identify their
current Stress Resilience level by providing a scientifically validated
summary of their current performance level in the seven best
practice areas that most influence their ability to combat the negative
effects of stress. The higher the Stress Resilience level, the longer
individuals can manage high levels of stress, maintain optimal health
and make effective decisions. As a result of completing the ARSENAL
and properly applying the seven ARSENAL best practices,
respondents can:
Improve stress resilience
Make better decisions
Increase effective brain functioning
Control emotions and stay calm
Build new brain cells
Improve physical functioning
Increase longevity
Decrease the negative effects of stress

To complete the ARSENAL™ and receive feedback or to become

certified to administer the ARSENAL™ Assessment Call 800-535-
8445 or email [email protected].
 If you or someone you know needs immediate help, text or call
the National Crisis Line at 988 (if you are a vet or military, enter
a “1” when the line answers). They will provide immediate
confidential crisis support.
Visit our Stress website at www.thestresseffect.com and/or
our company website at www.hpsys.com.
High Performing Systems, Inc. P.O. Box 868 • Watkinsville, GA
30677 • 706.769.5836 • [email protected] • www.hpsys.com

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 Arma 3: S.O.G. Prairie Fire

Arma 3: S.O.G. Prairie Fire is a video game made for PC, which
builds on a military simulation game (Arma 3) but creates the world
of the Vietnam War, with jungle terrains as large as 150 square miles.
As a military simulator sandbox, it has highly realistic weather, day-
night cycles, terrain, aircraft, vehicles, personal movement, weapons
and ballistics, radio communications and squad co-operation.
Its creator, Savage Game Design, worked closely on the game
with MACV-SOG Recon Team Leaders John Stryker Meyer, Jim
Shorten Jones and Ken Bowra, as well as aviators, like Don Hasse,
who supported SOG operations in slicks, gunships and Cobras. Due
to this cooperation, the enemy AI tactics and mission planning and
parameters closely match the MACV-SOG experience, and the
sounds take veterans back to the moment they step into the
helicopter with their team, loaded for bear, heading out over the
fence into Laos or Cambodia or North Vietnam. The game is even
played regularly by a team comprising MACV-SOG veterans and
their families and friends.
You can team up with friends and form a virtual Recon Team and
tackle the campaign’s eight co-operative missions, which follow RT
Columbia as it progresses through gradually tougher targets,
culminating in Oscar 8, the baddest of the bad. The emphasis on
teamwork and evading overwhelming enemies in the jungle makes
this a real test of your friendships and stress resilience. The pressure
grows during the campaign, until the final mission pushes your team
way beyond its breaking point.
For those teams who make it through, General Bowra personally
reads the SOG Recon motto on the flight home:
“For those that have fought for it, life has a special flavor, the
protected will never know.” www.sogpf.com

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