SOG Vietnam Special Operations Group: MACV-SOG STORIES / SOAR-219-STD 2011

NVA Hits Spike Team Idaho in Laos

By: John “Tilt” Stryker
Meyers

Target: E-4.

Command and Control:
MACV-SOG.

Area of Operations:
Laos.

Codename: Prairie
Fire

Mission:
Primary--General recon.

Secondary--Find major NVA POW underground complex where U.S. POWs are held.

Complex located near major intersection of Ho Chi Minh Trail in Laos.

Alternate--Cancel mission if opportunity to capture live NVA soldier arises.

Target Team: Spike
Team (ST) Idaho.

Date: 6 October 1968

Launch site: Phu Bai,
FOB #1, South Vietnam

Insertion Aircraft:
Vietnamese-piloted Sikorsky H-34 helicopters. Kingbees.

Lead Ship: 10-U.S.
team leader, 11-U.S. assistant team leader and 01-Vietnamese team leader.

Second Ship: 12-3rd
American, 02-team interpreter and 03-point man, Vietnamese team.

Third Ship: Backup.

Assets on site: two A1E skyraiders, one 0-2
covey, two UH-1B Huey gunships and Phantom F-4s on call.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

TOÁN
BIỆT KÍCH IDAHO BÊN LÀO

By:
John “Tilt” Stryker Meyers

Tôi
lúc nào cũng nghĩ, Chủ Nhật không phải là ngày tốt để đi hành quân, đặc biệt
trong Hành Quân Prairie Fire trên đất Lào, vì khu vực hành quân xâm nhập rất
nguy hiểm. Tuy nhiên, những hôm trước ngày 6 tháng Mười năm 1968, thời tiết xấu,
nhiều mây, thay đổi bất thường nên các chuyến xâm nhập, phát xuất từ căn cứ hành
quân tiền phương 1 (FOB-1), Phú Bài phải đình hoãn lại.

Căn cứ
hành quân tiền phương 1 (FOB-1) của đơn vị SOG nằm nơi hướng bắc phi trường Phú
Bài, trên quốc lộ 1, cách thành phố Huế khoảng mười dặm về hướng nam. Khi không
có toán biệt kích xâm nhập, các sĩ quan cao cấp trong Saigon lo lắng (áp lực từ
trên xuống). Do đó mỗi buổi sáng, việc đầu tiên người trưởng toán biệt kích
thường làm là để ý thời tiết, nhìn về rặng núi (Trường Sơn) nơi hướng tây Phú
Bài. Nếu trời quang đãng không có mây, cấp chỉ huy đơn vị SOG trên căn cứ hành
quân tiền phương sẽ tìm cách đưa một toán biệt kích hay một đơn vị xung kích
Hatchet Force vào khu vực hành quân Prairie Fire.

Ngày
hôm qua, thứ Bẩy, bầu trời có lúc quang đãng, đủ thời gian cho trưởng toán (1-0)
biệt kích Idaho, trung sĩ Donald W. “Don” Wolken bay thám sát khu vực hành quân,
tìm bãi đáp xâm nhập. Trong khi đó, “ở nhà”, tôi cùng LLĐB/VN Sáu thanh tra vũ
khí, đạn dược, “đồ nghề” đem theo hành quân của các toán
viên.

Sáng
Chủ Nhật, bầu trời trong sáng như thủy tinh. Trưởng toán Wolken cùng với Sáu
thanh tra toán viên thêm một lần nữa. Mỗi biệt kích Hoa Kỳ phải đem theo 25 băng
đạn súng CAR-15, người Việt Nam (đa số biệt kích trong toán “Mỹ” là người
Thượng, hoặc Nùng) 20 băng đạn. Cả Wolken và tôi đều gắn thêm khẩu súng phóng
lựu đạn M-79 đã cưa ngắn nòng súng, 21 viên đạn và một viên đạn khói cay. Wolken
còn đeo thêm khẩu súng lục gắn đầu hãm thanh. Tôi mang máy truyền tin và một lô
lựu đạn. Robinson cùng với biệt kích Việt Nam mang theo mấy qủa mìn Claymore và
một cục pin phòng hờ cho máy truyền tin PRC-25. Sáu và tất cả biệt kích Hoa Kỳ
được mang theo máy báo tín hiệu “cấp cứu” URC-10.

Trước
khi lên đường, cả toán biệt kích Idaho chụp tấm hình kỷ niệm, mặc dầu Sáu và
người thông ngôn Hiệp, sợ chuyện xui xẻo đến với toán biệt
kích.

Vài
phút sau, chúng tôi lên trực thăng H-34 do phi hành đoàn Việt Nam trong phi đoàn
219 “King Bee” (rất nổi tiếng trong đơn vị SOG) đưa đi xâm nhập. Từ trên cao
nhìn xuống một mầu xanh của núi rừng, tôi nhớ đến nông trại của ông tôi ở Belle
Mead, tiểu bang New Jersey. Khi trực thăng bay qua biên giới, người xạ thủ khẩu
đại liên 30 thử khẩu súng bằng cách bắn một tràng đạn xuống cánh rừng ở
dưới.

Mấy
tay phi công “King Bee” có lối đáp trực thăng rất độc đáo, thả rơi từ trên cao
khi gần tới mặt đất mới nổ máy từ từ đáp xuống, làm cho toán biệt kích ngồi bên
trong “lên ruột”. Bãi đáp là một hố bom, khi bánh chiếc trực thăng chạm đất,
trưởng toán Wolken ngồi ngay cửa đảo mắt xung quanh bãi đáp thật nhanh, xem có
dấu hiệu của địch, rồi toán biệt kích nhẩy ra biến mất vào đám cỏ tranh cao hơn
đầu người.

Tôi
liên lạc với chiếc Covey bao vùng do trung sĩ nhất Robert “Spider” Parks (cựu
trưởng toán biệt kích SOG) lái, cho anh ta biết toán biệt kích “OK”. “Spider”
bay bao vùng thêm mười phút rồi lặng lẽ quay trở về căn cứ hành quân tiền phương
Phú Bài.

Toán
biệt kích Idaho bắt đầu di chuyển, Phước là người dẫn đường, đi đầu, Sáu theo
sau, rồi đến Wolken. Đến một chỗ an toàn, toán biệt kích dừng lại nghỉ mệt,
Phước, Sáu và Wolken lấy bùn thoa lên chỗ bị ong chích.

Tiếp
tục di chuyển khoảng nửa tiếng đồng hồ, Phước ra dấu hiệu, có nhiều tiếng động ở
phiá trước. Vài giây sau, tất cả mọi người đều nghe tiếng động, cả toán biệt
kích vội tìm chỗ nấp sau những thân cây. Tôi nghĩ lính Bắc Việt, rút chốt qủa
lựu đạn M-26, nhưng không phải địch quân mà là một đàn khỉ đang đùa giỡn, la
hét, trên những cành cây.

Sau
khi “tái mặt” vì đàn khỉ, chúng tôi áp dụng kỹ thuật di chuyển căn bản, đi mười
phút, đứng lại nghe ngóng mười phút. Trong rừng, bạn có thể đoán biết chuyện
đang xẩy ra xung quanh bằng cách nghe ngóng cũng như nhìn thấy. Đến giữa trưa,
chúng tôi nghe được một phát súng “báo hiệu” có lẽ của toán đi tìm dấu vết toán
biệt kích.

Toán
biệt kích Idaho lặng lẽ di chuyển, đến khoảng 2:00 giờ chiều, có thêm tiếng súng
báo hiệu, làm như chúng đã tìm ra lộ trình của toán biệt kích. Đến xế chiều,
toán tìm dấu vết của địch đã tiến đến gần toán biệt kích, nhanh hơn chúng tôi
nghĩ. Nhận ra điều đó, toán Idaho tiếp tục di chuyển cho đến khi trời tối, không
còn chút nắng, mới tìm chỗ đóng quân đêm. Khi đặt mìn Claymore phòng thủ, địch
quân bắn thêm một phát súng cuối cùng làm cả toán biệt kích giật mình, có cảm
tưởng như địch quân chỉ còn cách mười thước.

Vì
khoảng cách với toán tìm dấu vết của địch quá gần, chúng tôi đợi đến nửa đêm mới
lôi đồ ăn ra, ăn vội vàng. Chúng tôi báo cáo lên phi cơ tiếp vận, bay bao vùng
24/24, cho tất cả các đơn vị Bộ Binh trong quân Lực Hoa Kỳ liên lạc, rằng toán
biệt kích Idaho “OK”, rồi đi ngủ.

Khi
ánh sáng bình minh hôm sau vừa ló dạng, toán biệt kích di chuyển ngay tức khắc.
Chiếc FAC Covey cũng đã lên vùng, tôi báo cáo tình hình để FAC chuyển tiếp về
căn cứ hành quân tiền phương Phú Bài. Tôi để ý cặp mắt của Sáu càng lúc càng to
ra, anh ta đã làm trưởng toán biệt kích SOG được 5 năm, đầy kinh nghiệm, có thể
“đánh hơi” địch quân. Đến một chỗ an toàn, dừng chân, Sáu cho biết linh cảm địch
quân rất đông. Tôi chưa tin, vẫn chưa thấy dấu hiệu gì của quân đội Bắc Việt,
nhưng hơi lo.

Đến
trưa, tôi báo cáo cho Covey, mọi chuyện êm xuôi và những linh cảm của Sáu. Covey
trả lời, nên tin những lời Sáu nói (“Spider” đã từng làm trưởng toán biệt kích
SOG, biết Sáu), rồi hẹn sẽ quay lại lúc 4:00 giờ chiều.

Sau
đó, Sáu và Hiệp đổi vị trí trong toán, Sáu sẽ đi cản hậu, tôi đi ở vị trí thứ
năm, trước anh ta. Khoảng 1:00 giờ chiều, chợt Sáu ra dấu hiệu tiếng “phì phì”
như rắn hổ mang. Trên ngọn đồi (phiá bên kia) toán biệt kích vừa đi xuống, xuất
hiện hai người lính Bắc Việt võ trang AK-47, đang nhìn toán biệt kích di chuyển
mỉm cười, họ “Mỉm Cười!” thay vì đưa súng lên bắn chúng tôi. Hai người lính Bắc
Việt chỉ cách khoảng 45 thước, tôi đưa khẩu súng lên định bắn ra một quả M-79,
nhưng Sáu ngăn lại, nói “Đi nhanh lên, tụi nó đông lắm!”.

Tôi
báo cáo cho Wolken, anh ta ra lệnh cho toán biệt kích di chuyển nhanh lên núi.
Một tiếng đồng hồ sau, chúng tôi lên đến một mỏm núi, đủ rộng cho cả toán biệt
kích. Wolken ra lệnh cho tôi gọi chiếc FAC quay trở lại càng sớm càng
tốt.

Lúc
đó, cặp mắt của Sáu mở to như hai cái điã. Tôi dựng cần antena gọi cho FAC nhưng
không nghe trả lời, hai ba lần vẫn không được. Tôi bấm máy máy “cấp cứu” URC-10,
tín hiệu khẩn phát đi từ máy này, tất cả các loai phi cơ đang trong vùng hành
quân Prairie Fire đều có thể nhận được, nhưng cũng không ai trả lời.

Tôi mở
hộp Apricot ngồi ăn, chưa hết thì tiếng súng tiểu liên AK-47 nổ vang dội. Sáu,
Phước, Hiệp và Wolken phản ứng nhanh chóng, bắn trả lại. Tôi chưa từng nghe
tiếng súng AK-47 nổ lớn và thật gần như lần này. Tiếng súng nổ chát chúa, cùng
với khói thuốc súng bay mùi khét trong không khí. Rồi tiếng súng tạm ngưng (hình
như để ráp băng đạn khác) rồi lại tiếp tục nổ đều đặn.

Mỏm
núi nhỏ đã cứu toán biệt kích Idaho, lính Bắc Việt không thể tràn lên số đông
cùng một lúc. Tôi bấm máy URC-10 liên tục, gào lên trên máy truyền tin PRC-25.
Cả tiếng đồng hồ vẫn chưa liên lạc được với ai để cầu cứu, chúng tôi phải tiết
kiệm đạn. Trong khi đó, lính Bắc Việt lôi những xác chết, những người bị thương
ra nơi khác, tiếp tục bò lên tấn công.

Cuối
cùng, “Spider” trên chiếc FAC lên bao vùng, anh ta cho biết hai chiếc phản lực
Phantom F4, trên đường về sau một phi vụ oanh kích trên đất Lào, bắt được tín
hiệu khẩn của toán biệt kích Idaho và báo cho anh ta biết. Tôi báo cho “Spider”
biết chúng tôi báo động ở mức độ “Prairie Fire”, tất cả các phi cơ, kể cả mấy
chiếc F4 đang trên đường lên hướng bắc nước Lào cũng phải quay trở lại để lo cứu
toán biệt kích. “Spider” trấn an, cho biết đã có hai trực thăng võ trang thuộc
sư đoàn Americal biệt phái cho đơn vị SOG đang trên đường
tới.

“Spider” nói cho một qủa khói mầu để đánh dấu vị trí toán biệt kích. Trên máy
bay quan sát, “Spider” nhìn thấy vị trí toán biệt kích, anh ta điều động hai
chiếc khu trục A1 (đã đến trước) bắt đầu đánh bom trên sườn núi, làm quân Bắc
Việt phải chạy xuống chân núi tránh bom.

Khoảng
nửa tiếng đồng hồ trước khi trời tối, “Spider” cho biết, trực
thăng

Hai
chiếc trực thăng võ trang bay vào trước, rồi đại úy Thịnh (phi đoàn 219 “King
Bee”) đáp xuống cách chúng tôi chừng mười thước. Chúng tôi chạy trên đám cỏ
tranh ra chiếc trực thăng H-34. Wolken cùng tôi “túm” mấy ông biệt kích nhỏ con
Việt Nam ném vào trong lòng chiếc trực thăng, rồi nhẩy lên sau. Đại úy Thịnh vẫn
tỉnh bơ đợi chúng tôi lên hết mới cất cánh bay về Phú Bài. Hôm sau chúng tôi mới
được biết chiếc trực thăng H-34 gìa nua trúng 48 viên đạn.

Về đến
Phú Bài trời đã tối, tôi vào nhà ăn lấy đồ ăn tối cho Sáu, Hiệp, Phước, rồi ngồi
ăn với họ. Lần sau, gặp lại đại úy Thịnh, nhất định tôi phải mời ông ta vào câu
lạc bộ đãi một chầu bia.

Dallas, TX.
Vđh

I always though Sunday was a good day not to run
missions, especially when the target area was in the deadly Prairie Fire AO
(area of operation).

However, for several days prior to 6 October 1968, the
weather had been cloudy and uncertain, which prevented any Forward Operating
Base (FOB)-1 teams in Phu Bai from launching into Laos AO. FOB-1 sat along
Highway 1, north of Phu Bai airport, on the north side of an ARVN training
compound, just south of the tiny village of Phu Luong, about 10 miles south of
Hue.

When there were no teams on the ground, the brass in
Saigon got nervous. Hence, in the mornings the first thing the team leaders did
was to check the mountains west of Phu Bai. If they were clear, the brass would
try to get a team or a Hatchet Force inserted in Prairie Fire.

On Saturday, 5 October 1968, the weather had broken
enough for ST Idaho One Zero (U.S. team leader) Staff Sergeant Donald W “Don”
Wolken to fly over a VR (visual reconnaissance) over the target area. Wile
Wolken was flying, Sau (the Vietnamese team leader) and I inspected the team.

Sunday morning, the weather was crystal clear, nary a
cloud in the sky. Wolken and Sau quickly inspected the team: each American
carried a minimum of 25 magazines for their CAR-15s, the Vietnamese carried 20
magazines. Wolken and I both carried sawed-off M-79s, 21 HE rounds and one tear
gas round. Wolken also carried a .22-caliber semiautomatic pistol with a
suppressor. I carried the PRC-25 radio and a bunch of hand grenades, while
Robinson and the Vietnamese carried several claymore mines and extra batteries
for the PRC-25. Sau and all Americans carried URC-10 emergency radio also.

Shortly before we left, the team posed for a
photograph, over the strong protests of Sau and our interpreter Hiep. They said
we’d jinx the mission.

A
few minutes later, we were on the H-34s flying west on the hour-plus flight to
Laos. Those long flights to the target area were peaceful and memorable because
we were flying high, where the air was cooler, looking at the dark, lush greens
of the jungle. From 4,000 feet, South Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia were
beautiful. During these flights, I often thought about my grandfather’s farm in
Belle Mead, New Jersey.

As the H-34s churned westward, my vision always seemed
better, aided by the adrenaline that was flowing, anticipating the unknown.
Once over Laos, the doorgunners test-fired their .30-caliber machine guns.

Then, the Kingbees went into a dying swan spiral,
spinning madly toward the earth. The G-force pushed my stomach upward into my
chest. At the last second, the pilot flared out and hovered a few feet off the
ground. The right wheel of the Kingbee touched the bomb crater that was our
LZ. While we were descending, Wolken sat in the door, looking at the LZ
itself. I squatted behind him, with my hand on his left shoulder, watching the
perimeter of the LZ for any enemy movement.

Now the blood was pounding through our veins.

As the Kingbee wheel again touched the lip of the bomb
crater, Wolken jumped out and promptly disappeared in the elephant grass. I
followed. When I landed on the crater, I started slipping down the outside
lip. The angle alongside the hill was much steeper than I had realized and the
ground was muddy and slippery. I started rolling down the hill, the same way
Wolker had. Robinson and the Vietnamese successfully landed on the crater’s lip
and laughed at Wolken and me. It took us several minutes to rejoin the team.

I
radioed Sergeant First Class Robert “Spider” Parks, who was flying overhead in
the 0-2 Covey, and told him that we were OK. Spider said he’d stand by for 10
more minutes before releasing the assets. Ten minutes later I broke squelch
three times for the final team OK.

As we moved away from the LZ, Phouc was walking point,
with Sau behind him. Wolken was third in line. I was behind him, Robinson was
behind me while Hiep brought up the rear. We took a break as Phouc, Sau and
Wolken applied mud to their bee stings.

About half an hour later, Phouc signaled that he heard
a lot of activity in front of him. Within seconds we all heard the noise. At
first, we thought it was an NVA regiment charging toward us. I got behind a
log and pulled a pin from an M26 frag grenade, only to realize that we were
being overrun by a chattering group of monkeys.

After being overrun, we went into the standard move-10
minutes, wait-10 minutes pace, on the principle that in the jungle you can learn
more from hearing than seeing. Then around noon, we heard the first shot fired
by an enemy tracker. By 1400 hours they sounded like they had located our
trail. By dusk, the trackers had moved through the thick jungle quicker than we
had and were closing in on us. We kept moving until last light, then we finally
set up our RON (Rest [Remain] Over Night) site. As I moved out to place a
claymore mine on our eastern perimeter, the tracker startled us b firing one
last round, which sounded like he was less than 10 meters from our southern
perimeter.

Because the trackers were so close, we didn’t eat until
midnight, after I radioed a team OK to the airborne command center that flew
over Southeast Asia 24 hours a day. Sau and Hiep went right to sleep. Between
2000 hours and 0200 hours the next morning, I listened to the tracker skirt our
team, ending his travel in front of my claymore mine.

I
wasn’t sure if he had located it or not, so I detonated it and woke up the team
and half the jungle with the explosive roar. For the rest of the night, there
was no more movement around our perimeter.

At first light, we moved on. When Spider flew over, I
gave him a quick sitrep (situation report). Through the morning, we heard no
more tracker shots or any obvious enemy movement. The only thing that concerned
me was the fact that Sau’s eyes began to get bigger as the day progressed. By
that time, he had been running missions for five years. He could smell the
NVA. During one break, he said, “Beaucoup VC, beaucoup VC.” That scared me,
because I hadn’t heard or seen anything to corroborate Sau’s intuition.

At noontime, I gave Spider a team OK, but told him Sau
was nervous. Spider reminded me to trust Sau’s instincts and said he’d return
at 1600 hours.

By now, Sau and Hiep had swapped places, with Sau in
the rear and me in the number five slot next to him. Around 1300 hours, I heard
Sau hiss like a snake. Across a ravine, on the hill we had just descended, were
two NVA soldiers, armed with AK-47s and smiles.

Smiles!!

What kind of game was this?! They didn’t raise their
weapons or make any hostile moves. They just smiled at us.

Because they were no more than 45 yards away, I pulled
out my sawed-off M79, indicating to Sau I’d like to permanently wipe the smiles
off those smirking faces. Sau said, “no, beaucoup VC, di, di! (go, go).”

I
told Wolken what happened and immediately we headed by high ground. Within an
hour, we were atop a knoll big enough to hold ST Idaho. Wolken told me to get
the PRC-25 and get Spider back over us ASAP.

By now, Sau’s eyes were bigger than saucers. I put the
long antenna on the PRC-25 and made several calls on the primary, secondary and
alternate frequencies, to no avail. I turned on the emergency beeper on the
URC-10. That distress signal was on a channel which was supposed to be
monitored at all times by all aircraft flying over the Prairie Fire AO.

No one responded. I opened a can of apricots and was
sipping the sweet nectar when all hell broke loose.

Suddenly, the green jungle around us erupted with
deafening full-automatic blasts from NVA-held AK-47s. Sau, Phouc, Hiep and
Wolken responded instantly.

The crack of AK-47 rounds never sounded louder or
closer. All I could see from our perimeter was the smoke, the red and orange
blasts coming from the darker-than-ever green jungle, and green AK-47 tracers,
which were flying over our heads.

The thunderous fury of dozen of men blasting away at
each other on full automatic, within 10 or less feet of each other, kills all
sounds. Numbs all eardrums.

Then, just as suddenly as the roar had begun, it
stopped.

Everybody ran out of bullets, except for me, and I
emptied my magazine toward the most intense area of enemy fire.

The only sounds audible through hurting ears were the
metallic clicks of magazines being slammed into hot rifles and gunbolts sliding
shut to resume the apocalyptic death roar.

ST Idaho won the reload race. Nobody was faster than
Sau and Phouc at getting the first magazine out and the second one in. Within
seconds we had gained fire superiority. At that instant, at the peak of the
fire-fight, those brief, tense adrenaline-pumping seconds made all the other
games in life seem like patty-cake. You miss your man here and you die.

The majority of the enemy firing was coming at us from
the south and west parts of the small knoll. Wolken and I chucked a couple of
M26s down the side of the knoll, in between blasts of full auto on our CAR-15s.

As soon as we gained complete fire superiority, I
turned on the URC-10 beeper and started screaming into the PRC-25.

The small knoll saved us. The jungle was so thick and
the knoll so small, only a score of NVA could rush us at once.

Soon they were stacking bodies and firing at us from
behind their dead comrades. A lot of NVA soldiers died in those first few
minutes of hell on earth.

For more than an hour, my cries and screams into the
radio and URC-10 beeps went unanswered as the NVA mounted more mass attacks.

But the hill, the jungle and our CAR-15s worked against
them as they continued to pile up or drag away more bodies. With no help
around, conserving ammo while keeping Charlie back became a top priority.

Waiting several hours for help in the Prairie Fire AO
after making contact with the NVA was not unusual. In fact, any time a team got
help in less than an hour or two, people boasted about it as though it were a
minor miracle because the AO was so far from Vietnam.

Finally, I heard Spider on the radio. He said an F-4
Phantom returning from a bombing run in Northern Laos had heard the beeper and
called him.

I
told Spider we had a “Prairie Fire Emergency,” which diverted all airborne
assets in the AO to our target, including any F-4s that were heading north.
Spider also said he had called the Judge and the Executioner--an Americal
Division gunship team that was temporarily attached to our operation. Within
minutes, Spider was over our position. He told me to pop smoke, Spider said he
saw two yellows, which meant the NVA were monitoring our frequency.

We changed frequencies and I popped a violet smoke. A
few minutes later, the first A1E Skyraider arrived on target and made a gun run
on the western perimeter. He made his first napalm run on the south side and
said, “Put your heads down. I’m going to make you sweat.”

He brought it so close we could feel the heat from the
deadly jell. A few seconds later we smelled burning flesh. As he dove toward
us a third time, the pilot said, in a quite Southern drawl, “It’s crispy critter
time.”

When the NVA heard the old World War II plane making
another run, they charged us in a desperate attempt to get close to us in order
to avoid the Skyraider’s deadly ordnance.

Then we blasted away and pushed them back down the
hill, and the Skyraider pushed them back toward us, like a death dance. Right
then and there I thanked the Lord for Uncle Sam’s Air Force.

By now, each team member had developed lanes of fire
down the hill. At one point when I was talking to Spider, I though I saw
something moving in my lane of fire. All I could see was the ass of an NVA
soldier crawling up the hill. I told Spider, “Wait one” (second). Then the NVA
stuck up his head to se where he was, and the last thing he might have seen was
a puff from my CAR-15 as his head exploded like a coconut.

For the next few hours, Spider and I worked numerous
fast movers and A1Es, hitting the southern and eastern perimeters hard. The Air
Force dumped thousands of mini-gun rounds, 20mm rounds, several 500-pound bombs,
numerous napalm and CBU (Cluster Bomb Unit) canisters on the dauntless NVA
troops. In between gun runs, Wolken and I would fire our M79s upward, like
mortars, thorough one small opening in the jungle canopy.

About half an hour before dusk, Spider told us the
Kingbees were on their way. And by that time, the Judge and Executioner had
refueled and reloaded and were returning with them.

Ten minutes before the Kingbees arrived, Spider was
like a master conductor, running F-4s and A1Es around our perimeter.

The Judge and the Executioner led the Kingbees into and
L which was about 10 yards west of our perimeter. Spider had spotted a little
ridge from our knoll to a knoll covered with elephant grass and small trees.
The Kingbee could not land, but Captain Thinh roared in, chopping the tops off
several small tress, and hovered 10 feet off the ground.

ST Idaho ran to the chopper. That wasn’t as easy as it
sounded. It took us 10 minutes to cover those 10 yards.

The ground was wet and muddy. The elephant grass
between 6 and 10 feet tall and thick. Because the grass was so thick I went
first, trying to blaze a trail through it. When I fell, Wolken ran, literally
ran over me, and plowed forward. When he fell, I returned the favor.

As we moved slowly toward the chopper, the activity
around us heightened to a frenzy. The NVA knew what the Kingbee was doing. The
NVA knew that they knew we were vulnerable. He directed the Judge and
Executioner through gun runs along the eastern perimeter while the Kingbee
hovered on the western edge.

Sau and Hiep covered our frantic, desperate drive to
the chopper. As the Kingbee hovered about 8 feet above us, Wolken and I threw
the other four members into the chopper. At some point during that craziness, I
looked up at Capt. Thinh, and he was sitting there as cool as a Rocky Mountain
breeze, keeping the aging H-34 hovering while taking numerous hits (the next
morning, the maintenance crew counted 48 holes int he ancient ship).

Finally, Wolken told me to get in. By now, my
adrenaline was roaring through my body like a berserk subway. I grabbed Wolken
by his fatigue jacket and threw the 220-pound staff sergeant into the Kingbeee.
Then I threw my rucksack and jumped up onto the ladder, where Wolken grabbed me
by the shoulder while telling the gunner to get the hell out of there.

As Capt. Thinh lifted the Kingbee, Hiep and Sau blasted
away out of the port windows, Phouc and Robinson blasted away out of the
starboard window and Wolken and I emptied our last magazine into the dark
jungle, which had dozens, if not hundreds, of muzzle flashes lighting up the
darkness. As we ascended skyward, I fired my last M79 round and dropped my
white phosphorous grenade, which looked spectacular against the quickly fading
jungle.

Seconds later, the hell and fury and death of the LZ
were behind us.

Suddenly, the cool night air hit us, as Wolken and I
watched the final fleeting moments of the sweetest sunset we had ever seen in
our lives.

We had survived. How many NVA hadn’t survived?

Capt. Thinh flew us back to Phu Bai. Before he
returned to his base at Da Nang, I climbed up to the pilot’s seat and thanked
him for saving our lives and told him he never had to pay for a drink in the
FOB-1 club again.

Because it was late, I went to the mess hall and got
some chow for Sau, Hiep and phouc and ate with them. Sau appeared as though
nothing unusual had happened. I had never been so close to thunderous death
before. Our meal was somber. Later I went to the club, where an Australian
floor show was in progress. A lot of the guys wanted sex. I was happy to be
alive. Later, when talking to a friend, I realized I had killed a man, perhaps
more than one. The line from an old Doors song surfaced in my mind: “The war is
over for the unknown soldier...bullet struck the helmeted head.” Silently, I
thanked the Lord for sparing me, again.

SPIKE TEAMS, HATCHET FORCES,
AND SLAM COMPANIES:

Mention of the U.S. Army’s Special Forces in Vietnam
usually conjures up images of A-Teams in remote outposts training and fighting
with the Meo and Montagnard tribesman. After all, the Green Berets’ primary
mission before Vietnam was the support of guerrilla and partisan forces behind
enemy lines. But as American’s ground war in Vietnam expanded, so too did the
role of Special Forces.

A
major departure from their pre-war mission was strategic ground reconnaissance.
These missions were conducted under the guise of the Studies and Observations
Group (SOG), a subordinate command of Military Assistance Command (Vietnam).
Ground Studies Group (SOG 35), one of eight operational commands within SOG, was
charged with ground operations and had responsibility for cross-border
missions. Operating from Forward Operating Bases (FOBs) located at Phu Bai
(FOB-1), Kontum (FOB-2), Khe Sanh (FOB-3), Da Nang (FOB-4), Ban Me Thout
(FOB-5), and Ho Ngoc Tao (FOB-6), Green Berets detached from 5^th
Special Forces ventured into the border areas of Cambodia and Laos and often
beyond.

Frequently, intelligence provided by the recon teams
(known as Spike Teams, usually consisting of two to three SF troops and nine
indigenous personnel) was exploited by SOG as well. Battalions consisting of
four SLAM (Search-Locate-Annihilate-Monitor) companies operated from the same
four FOBs as the Spike Teams.

Spike Teams were tasked with linear, point, area and
route reconnaissance; road, trail and river watch; route mining, interdiction
and ambushes; capture of prisoners; bomb damage assessments; the direction of
air and artillery strikes on targets of opportunity; crash site inspection;
allied prisoner recovery and limited ground combat, SLAM companies were made up
of Hatchet (later Hornet) Force platoons. These platoons were tailored to
specific missions which included rapid engagement of recon-produced targets,
reconnaissance-in-force, route interdiction, ambushes and raids, security of
temporary patrol bases, short-term area denial, cache destruction and allied
prisoner recovery.

After reorganization in November 1967, SOG 35
operations included Command and Control South (CCS), headquartered in Ban Me
Thout, Command and Control Central (CCC) located at Kontum, and Command and
Control North (CCN) in Da Nang. The border areas in which the teams operated
were divided into three “projects”: DANIEL BOONE (further divided into three
smaller zones), which ran from the southern border of Vietnam on the Gulf of
Siam to the tri-border region; PRAIRIE FIRE, which ran from the DANIEL BOONE
area to just north of the border with North Vietnam, and NICKEL STEEL, which ran
astride the western half of the DMZ. CCS operated in PRAIRIE FIRE and the Alpha
zone of DANIEL BOONE, and CCN operated in the PRAIRIE FIRE and NICKEL STEEL
areas.

If you aren’t confused yet, stand by. It should be
noted that all three of the “projects” were assigned different names during
different periods of the war. PRAIRIE FIRE was originally known as SHINING
BRASS , and after April 1971 was changed to PHU DUNG. DANIEL BOONE
was renamed SALEM HOUSE and later changed to THOT NOT. NICKEL STEEL was
originally DOUBLE CROSS.

From September 1966 until April 1971, Special Forces
personnel assigned to SOG conducted more than 1,500 missions into Laos and
Cambodia, providing tactical and strategic intelligence for those directing the
war from Saigon and Washington. In the spring of 1971, Congress passed the
Cooper-Church Amendment, which prohibited Special Forces from conducting
missions across the border, and although the missions continued for some time
after that, Vietnamization and the withdrawal of U.S. forces eventually brought
the operations to a halt. The sustained unconventional warfare activities of
SOG 35 represented not only a broadening of Special Forces’ pre-war role, but at
the same time it was the Army’s most successful deep-penetration
campaign.