Long Binh
Once we arrived at Long Binh and drove to our Platoon area, the 2nd Platoon was ready to leave. These guys stayed at Long Binh for 1 week before they rotated to a place called the Dust Bowl, which was south of Saigon to pull a weeks worth of night ambush patrols before they rotated back into Bien Hoa to guard the barge. We pulled up in front of the tent and everyone started to get out of the vehicles and grabbing their gear, headed into the tent and grabbed the cots that were lined up against the walls. Since Robert Rouch and I were the new guys, we took the beds that were left over. I took a bed next to a guy from Ohio. His name was Michael Leopold. He was the 1st squad sergeant’s radio man. He said, “You can sleep there”, pointing to the bunk next to him. “You snore? If you do, sleep facing away from me.”
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Michael Leopold on the right.
Other than a bed to sleep in, we had a foot locker at the end of our bed. As soon as we put our gear away and got settled in, SGT Harris came into the tent and said, “DeMusey and Rouch, fall out”. Robert and I stepped outside with SGT Harris. He said, “I need a ¾ ton truck driver and a radio man, which one of you wants to do which job?” I sized up Rouch real quick and blurted out, “I can drive the truck!” SGT Harris said, “you will be the radio man, Rouch you will drive the ¾ ton truck.” As I looked over at Rouch, I could tell that he was snickering, laughing a little bit because he got to drive the truck. Harris noticed that Rouch was laughing a little bit too and then he said, “Rouch, you will drive the ¾ ton truck when we are back in the rear but when we go to the field, you will carry the M-60 machine gun.” Now the packing of the radio didn’t seem to sound too bad after all. I packed the radio for the next 9 months. Rouch carried the M-60 machine gun for the whole year.
SGT Harris took Rouch and me out to an open field behind the back of the tents. He told us to go find a stick and come back to him with it. Rouch and I started to walk the open field looking for sticks when I spotted a 10” stick lying on the ground. I looked over at Rouch and noticed that he spotted the stick too. Before I could turn back around, Rouch took off on a dead run and retrieved the stick before I could. I thought, okay, I will find a big stick and bring it back. I searched the field and found a 6’ foot 2x4 and started to walk back to where Harris and Rouch were standing. SGT Harris looked at me and said, “Is that the only stick you could find?” “Sure is Serge", I replied. Come on with me guys, you are about to burn shit. We walked behind the two hole outhouse and Harris opened up the two doors that exposed the two 55 gallon barrels halves that contained the feces and urine. In there was a diesel can and a metal rod which was bent at the end. Harris used the metal rod to hook the barrels and dragged them from under the outhouse. He then poured diesel in both halves of the barrels and lit it on fire. He said, “take those sticks you have and stir the shit so all of it can burn". I looked over at Rouch with a 10” inch stick and looked at my 6’ foot 2x4 and I started to laugh. The smell, the smell! Black soot billowed as the diesel burned. Some day I will be a Sergeant and I can’t wait to bring some FNG’s (Fu**ing New Guys) out here so they can burn shit, that will be the day, I thought.
By the time Rouch and I finished our shit burning detail we headed back to our Platoon’s tent. It was time for supper. We washed up and joined the others at the mess hall. After we ate, we all headed back to the tent. We were met by SGT Harris that took Rouch and me over to the ammo connex and issued us our weapons and ammo along with all of the equipment that we would be packing once we went to the field. I was also assigned my PRC-25 radio with an extra battery. Once back at our tent, all of our newly issued equipment went on the floor next to our cot. I had made good friends with Barney McCoy Smith from Florida, Leroy Gavigan from Wisconsin and Donald Wicker from North Carolina. Once we were back, it was time for mail call. I received a letter from home. It was from a girl I knew, from Sutter Creek, California. We were more a friend than serious boyfriend/girlfriends. She was a junior in High School and I knew before too long I would have to tell her to not wait on me to come home, but to go out and have fun during her High School years. I didn't know if I would come home at all!
Soon, Smith, Gavigan, Wicker and I started to play cards. Spades was the game. First one game, then another and another. Soon, it was close to 9:00 p.m.. People were starting to undress to get ready for a shower. As the four of us started to get ready for our shower a fire siren started to blow. I thought, what the hell is this about? People stopped what they were doing and ran to their cots and started to put on their gear. Smith told me, come on, you need to get your gear on, and I will help you. As soon as I had on my clothes and boots, Smith told me to lay down on my ruck sack that held my radio and put my arms through the straps and I did. Smith and Gavigan helped me to my feet where I buckled my pistol belt. Smith placed two bandoleers of M-16 magazines around my neck that crossed my chest. Each bandoleers held 10 magazines with 18 shells in each. Not only did I have those magazines but I also carried two ammo pouches on my pistol belt with 2 magazines in each plus the magazine that was in my M-16. Smith said let’s go, we have to run up to the helipad and get on the choppers. Once on the helipad I was told to get on the third chopper because I was the third squad leaders radio man. Before I knew it, I was sitting on the floor of the chopper with my feet hanging over the edge. My M-16 was between my legs. It was pitch dark this night. I was sitting next to SGT Jones to my left and Rouch with his M-60 machine gun to my right. The chopper lifted off and followed the center helicopter. The only thing I could see was lights that were on the ground. I thought, this can’t be safe, how in the hell are we going to see anything once on the ground. We were going out to back up the 25th Light Infantry LRRPs (long range reconnaissance patrol). They would go out with either a heavy man team of 5, or a light man team of 3.
After we lifted off and were in air, I received a call on my radio from the Lieutentant's radio man who said to copy down the coordinates he was reading off. I didn't have anything to write with and I couldn't see anyway. As we started to get close to our landing zone we could see tracers being fired up at our helicopters. We were being escorted by two Cobra gunships that began firing their guns. I could see green tracers coming from the ground and red tracers coming from the Cobras. I thought, this does not look good for us. Tracers started to become real close to our helicopter when our door gunner began to open up with his M-60 machine gun. Without warning, our helicopter banked to the left and we were starting to get out of the area. It appeared that we were heading back to base. I had forgot I had a radio with a head set, so I put the headset on and I could hear the pilots saying that it was too dangerous and we were heading back to base. This was the last night mission that we ever had to perform because the “powers to be” said it was just too dangerous for everyone, and I agreed.
The next morning, before breakfast, we loaded up on the helicopters and my Platoon was sent back into the area we tried to land in the night before. The LRRPs were going to be picked up as we were going to be dropped off. Not sure if they made it through the night without any casualties. The Cobra gunships remained above them and put down enough fire power that made the enemy leave their area. It was now our job to go in and make a body count. We ate our C-rations for breakfast. We had walked several miles checking for blood and bodies and only found 2 bodies on the trail. They appeared to be NVA. We did not find any other signs of anyone being in that area. It just goes to show that the NVA were hard to find and harder to kill.
The next 5 days were uneventful. Since we were no longer allowed to respond at night, the platoon was basically off duty when it became dark. Since we were off, this meant that we could now enjoy the EM club that was up the road about 200 yards from our tents. It was nice to retreat to this club and drink a few beers and listen to music and eat fast food that was prepared there. I did not know that this was a non typical week as far as going out and backing up the 75th Rangers. In order to receive an Air Medal from the 3/17th Air Cav, you have to have 25 hot LZ insertions. This means that any time we would go out and there was known enemy firing at us from the ground and we were inserted to fight them, it would be considered a hot LZ (landing zone) and this would be counted as 1 hot LZ insertion. I received 2 Air Medals in my one year tour with 3/17th Air Cav.
Many times when we were inserted to back up the 75th Rangers, they would already have confirmed kills on the ground. Most times the bodies would be left right where they fell. Most of the time, the 75th Rangers were inserted on the Ho Chi Mien trail, watching and reporting enemy movement. They only came in contact with the enemy when the enemy got too close to their area. Normally the 75th Rangers would blow up their claymore mines first and then fire their guns. Since they were a small unit, that is why we would have to come in and be inserted to fight their battle.
The Dust Bowl
The Dust Bowl was located south of Saigon City. We would take our vehicles and drive around in the fields looking for VC’s during the day light, and we pull night ambush patrols at night. Our jeeps were mounted with 106 recoil-less cannons, M-50 and M-60 machine guns.
Thomas Clouse
During the evening, our platoon would go out on Night Ambush Patrols. We would leave about a half hour before sundown and walk to a location that was already pre-determined by the Lieutenant and Sergeants. We would lay in a circle. The person on the opposite side of the circle from you would stay awake for an hour at a time, during the night while everyone else would try and sleep. Once your hour was up, you would wake the man laying on your left. This would keep up until sunrise. Once the sun would come up, everyone would wake up and the platoon would walk back to the staging area to rejoin everyone else for breakfast.
One evening, our platoon was getting ready to head out for our night ambush patrol. As we were walking to our location, our men in the front spotted 3 VC walking on a trail adjacent to ours. Our men spotted them first and opened fire at them. Everyone got down on the ground and started looking as to where the shooting was coming from. Our point man and machine gunner had seen them first and laid down a good base of fire. This lasted for about 15 seconds when our Sergeant in charge yelled “cease fire”, cease fire!” On the radio I could hear the sergeant ask the radio man up front what was going on. The response was that 3 VC were walking next to our platoon and we opened fire. The sergeant said that he was moving up to their location and to prepare for a sweep. Once the sergeant got to their location he picked 5 men to stand up and make a sweep of the area looking for dead bodies or any sign of a blood trail. The men moved out and within a minute or two the squad was back to report that they could not find anything, not even blood. The sergeant then decided that he would call for the nearest ARVAN base camp to shoot out mortar rounds of illumination because it was getting dark and we needed more light in this area because he was convinced that there had to be a body or blood somewhere on the trail because of the closeness of the two trails when we spotted them. The sergeant took the radio and called for some illumination rounds to be shot out near our location. The order was given and we waited to hear the sound of mortars being placed into their tubes to be shot out. There was no other sound in the world of rounds sliding down the barrel of a mortar and being shot into space. "Thunk, Thunk" went the rounds.
The rounds made a whistling sound after they exploded in air and fell to the ground. The rounds were getting closer and closer to our location. The illumination rounds were attached to a parachute, burning and lighting up everything below, as they began to fall back down to the ground, the very same ground we were laying on. The illumination canisters were falling at a good amount of speed and if they hit someone, someone could be seriously injured or killed. Although the ground was lit up like a football field at night during a game, our location was lit up as well. If we could see the enemy, the enemy could also see us. The two canisters fell near our location as we could hear it and smell the burning. Our sergeant decided to call for two more canisters to be shot near our location and the order was given. I could hear the mortars being propelled in our direction, but this time they sounded like they were even closer. The two canisters detonated directly above us. This time they started to fall directly into the middle of our squad. As I could hear the whistle of the canisters falling to the ground, I found the closest thing to get under, which was a very small bush, but at least I had something to get under. The canister landed 3 feet away from where I was laying and the second canister almost hit two of my buddies. Everyone yelled to the sergeant to cease fire before someone gets killed.
While we were at the Dust Bowl, one day the Lieutenant allowed us to go to Saigon to the USO. At the USO, we were allowed to make a phone call to home. I called and my Mother was home. I got to talk to my Mom and she allowed me to talk to my little sisters, Barb and Elaine. Their voices made me very home sick. When I finally got to talk to my Mom again, I was very emotional. Tears were starting to fill my eyes until my Mom said she had to tell me about what happened the other night. One of my best buddies through Grammar School, High School and sports, was Dave Grijalva. Behind our house was a Ford Dealership in the early 1960's. It had caught on fire and burned down, but the cement foundation was still there. During our High School days, after Dave was on his way home, he would pass through our alley, between the house and cement foundation, Dave would knock on my window and if I was in my room, he would sit on the foundation as I laid on my bed and we would talk into the early hours of the morning.
My Mom said that she was awoke around 2 a.m., a few nights ago by a male voice. This voice had been talking for about a half hour when she decided to get up out of bed and see what was going on. As she walked closer to my bedroom, the louder the voice got. She said she opened my bedroom door and looked out my bedroom window and saw Dave Grijalva sitting on the cement foundation talking away. She said that he was talking to me because she heard him say Bill several times. She opened the window and told Dave that I was in Vietnam and that he should go home. Mom said that she thought that Dave was a little drunk. We laughed and when we hung up the telephone I was feeling a lot better.
Back to Bien Hoa
SSGT Willie Hayes
We loaded up in our vehicles and from the Dust Bowl we were on our way back to Bien Hoa to relax and guard the barge if it was our turn. Once we arrived at Bien Hoa and reached our company area, we all headed to the showers. Once we were cleaned up, back in our hooch, one Sergeant and one man would be assigned to guard the barge. The rest of us would be allowed to go to the PX (Post Exchange) to buy beer and liquor and what other sundries one could afford. My biggest expense, other than beer, was my cigarettes. Later on that evening, they were going to show a movie on our movie projector and project it onto a sheet that was stretched up between a couple of 2x4’s. It gave you the feeling of being at a drive in Theater. We would sit on the sand bags that surrounded the area where we watched the movie. As the movie started, off in the distance we could hear the sounds of the Air Force planes dropping what we thought were B-52 bombs. The ground shook as the bombs were hitting the ground even though we were miles and miles away from the drop zone. Several of us made mention of how we would hate it if we were on the ground where those bombs were dropping. We continued watching the movie as nothing was going on. This is the way war worked....
My platoon should have been off except for barge guard for the week. The next morning, our sergeant woke us up for what we thought was breakfast call, when he said that third platoon was going to go on a mission today so when we got back from breakfast to get ready to move out. We all looked at one another with sleep in our eyes and said, "Aren’t we supposed to be off?" After breakfast we all started to get ready to go. We didn’t know where we were going, just that we were going out. We could start to hear the helicopters coming in to land as we were getting on our equipment. I carried the radio for Sergeant Jones. My call sign was Bluetiger 32 delta. Sergeant Jones came in and yelled, “Let’s go, move out to the choppers”! I was ready and followed SGT Jones to the waiting choppers. He got on the chopper and sat on the floor with his feet hanging over the edge. I jumped in and sat next to him as Rouch got in and sat next to me with his M-60 machine gun. The choppers started to get airborne and took off. One after the other, in a single formation. Once we were airborne the choppers would fly abreast from one and another.
Soon, we were descending. The choppers started to get back in line. I was in the third helicopter. Once we were close to landing, all heads turned towards the pilot. You could see the pilot give us the "get-off" signal, and everyone started to get off the helicopter. We had landed in a clearing with trees all around us. After everyone cleared the choppers, they took off in a single line and within minutes they were out of sight. All 18 of us quickly circled up and the lieutenant told us to stay in formation and that we were moving out.
We moved out and quickly disappeared into the tree line. We walked on a small trail for about 300 yards until we came to a big B-52 crater. It started to occur to me that things were not right. I could smell the fresh earth, like someone had just dug a big hole. Another thing, I did not hear any jungle sounds that I normally heard. There were no birds chirping or any other sounds associated with a jungle. The Lieutenant and SSGT Hayes were talking up ahead, standing next to the B-52 crater. We started to move again. As I moved up next to the crater, I could see some trees in the distance that were still standing with clear, pinkish slime on them. It was an eerie feeling, nothing standing near the crater, and just the smell of fresh earth. All of a sudden, as we moved forward towards the next B-52 crater, I could start to smell a rotting flesh smell. Back home in Jackson, when I used to deer hunt out by Butte Mountain, the ranchers would take their dead or dying animals and put them into a hole where they would die and decompose. We called this place the “bone yard”. The smell that I was smelling was very much like the “bone yard”. It occurred to me that this was the area that was being bombed when we were back at base the other night. We were moving again, and soon we came upon the dead rotting body on the trail. For sure, this is where the smell was coming from. More slime could be seen hanging from the trees that still stood. We were there to see if the Agent Orange and bombing had did their jobs, and from what I saw, I would say it worked well. The vegetation was dying and there was no where to hide.