A Day Remembered
© Jim Meade
Special Forces Detachment B-34
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The town of Song Be was the capital of Phouc Long Province, RVN. When all of the Americans in the town were present for duty, which wasn't often, we had an 18 member US Army Special Forces B-Team and a six-man Air Force Tactical Air Control Party (TACP), a Forward Air Control team. All of the Americans lived together in the B-Team camp. We were all relatively new since the VC had recently overrun almost every town and camp in the province. Generally, we got along pretty well together with each one of us having our own assignments, but all contributing to the welfare of the group. I was an Airman First Class and the radio operator assigned to the TACP. It was my job to maintain contact with our pilots whenever they were in the air and to relay requests for fighter bomber aircraft to bomb targets. I had spent four years in a mobile communications squadron, sometimes in fairly primitive conditions, but living in a Special Forces camp in a combat zone was a new and challenging experience.
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One day, after I had been there about 7-8 weeks, the B-Team Commander called a meeting of all the team members at the Camp. I couldn't recall this having happened earlier so I expected some sort of big announcement. The C.O. had received an Intelligence Report, with a very high rating, that reported a downed U.S. helicopter crewman had been captured by the VC just to the south of the district town and A-Camp at Dong Xoai, which was one of our A Teams and was located just a few kilometers to our SouthWest. It was further reported that the crewman appeared to be unharmed and was being transported to a Chu Hoi resettlement village near Song Be. The VC planned to hold a political rally and parade their prisoner in the village that night. The MACV report went on to advise that we were not to attempt a rescue of the POW, under any circumstances, as it would only result in compromising the intelligence source and the probable execution of the helicopter crewmember.
This announcement created a huge stir amongst the team members who felt sure that there had to be something we could do to rescue this man. The general feeling was to hell with the intelligence source and if the POW were killed in a rescue attempt, so be it, it would be better than being a prisoner and he probably wouldn't survive anyway. Just about everyone agreed that if they were in that position, they would rather die in a rescue attempt than accept the fate of being a POW. Nevertheless, everyone fully realized that the choice wasn't theirs to make - MACV had made it perfectly clear that we were not to attempt anything, only to help facilitate his escape if he managed to get free on his own.
There were only a couple of things that could be done. We would set up a listening post near to the only access road to the Chu Hoi village, we would fire artillery randomly through the night (this was not out of the ordinary so it would not alert the VC) but the POW would know we were nearby. It was possible for him to head directly towards us by going cross-country so we would keep an increased watch in that direction. Every man not on duty kept the watch that night.
Just after nightfall, we could see a huge fire burning off in the distance and every once in a while we could hear amplified voices drifting out of the night. We all just stood there with a terrible feeling of helplessness and grief for what our brother in arms was going through. I think that was the longest night of our lives. Just before sunrise, the voices stopped and the fire died down. Wisps of smoke could still be seen a couple of hours later. Needless to say, the listening post heard nothing other than what we heard and had seen no signs of troop movement during the night. That was the end of that, although the wisdom of MACV was brought in for some pretty heated discussions.
 Camps Western Defense
 SFC Plater & Sergeant Major Manuel
 Montagnard Civilian Irregular Defense Group (CIDG) Guards
 Monsoon Rains
 Mike Force Extraction on a "String" |
A couple of days later, my ALO
(Air Liaison Officer, Captain Huppertz, told me that there was a team of engineers
coming up from Saigon and I was given the job of escorting them out to the
old runway site at Phouc Binh to do a survey. The reasoning behind this
was that if anybody on the B-Team knew anything about runways, it must be the
Air Force and I was to be the only Air Force representative that could be spared
that day. Captain Huppertz told me to check out a weapons carrier (1 1/2 ton truck)
in the morning and the survey people would be ready to go by about 0900.
He suggested that I take a couple of Civilian Irregular Defense Group (CIDG) soldiers,
or strikers, along as well - just to be on the safe side. As the VN Rangers
were supposed to secure the runway each day, the CIDG probably weren't necessary,
but I should take them along anyway. I arranged with Staff Sergeant Plater,
the Logistics NCO, for the vehicle and asked the Sergeant Major to detail a
couple of CIDG to me for the day. No problems.
At about 0930 the next morning,
an elderly American (I swear he looked just like the Colonel Sanders of Kentucky Fried Chicken
fame) and two Filipino engineers arrived at camp ready for the day. We all got in the vehicle and
drove out to the runway, which was about 6 km away. On the way out I noticed that we hadn't seen
any Rangers; usually you would see a couple on the road somewhere along the way. We got out
to the runway, but still hadn't seen any Rangers about. I'm thinking to myself, I've seen VC
(from the air) crossing this runway in broad daylight, so I wonder just where the security force is
today. Then I reminded myself that I hadn't heard of anybody having any problems out here before,
so it's probably all right. As a precaution I decide to keep the CIDG on their toes anyway.
The Engineers got busy taking soil samples from the sides of the runway,
doing some sort of pressure test of the concrete, and setting off a few seismic charges. Now
I'm thinking, if the VC didn't know we were here before, they sure do now. This went on
all morning. Finally, I thought they were through with whatever they were doing then they
ask if there is any gravel or rock around the area. I told them that there wasn't any that I
was aware of, then, one of the strikers says he knows where there is some. I ask him
where and he points off towards the opposite side of the runway, I ask him again and
he says not far and points off beyond the runway. Colonel Sanders seems pleased
so I told him we would go take a quick look but that's all. We loaded all of the equipment
back in the truck and away we went.
When we get back to the road, the CIDG indicate that we should go to the right, back towards camp and that sounds good to me. Not far down the road he points to a dirt track leading off to the left, through some very tall elephant grass, and indicates that is the direction we need to go. I hesitate for a moment, but I figure that these guys know this area one heck of a lot better than I do so its probably okay. The road, if you could call it that, meanders around for quite some distance and then we suddenly come into a clearing. There is a line of hootches down both sides of the road and several women and children out in the road. As soon as they saw us coming, the women grabbed the children and hustled them inside. All of the doors closed and hands come out of the windows and drew the shutters closed too. Now the village looks abandoned and I note that I hadn't seen a single man or older boy amongst the lot of them. Alarm bells start ringing in my head, but there is nowhere to turn around at this point, but at the end of the hootches there looks like just enough room. Just beyond the wide turnaround point is a huge pile of burnt out debris that I suspect must have been pushed up there when the village site was cleared. The CIDG troops still don't seem to be worried at all about the situation so I proceed to drive through the village.
Now the CIDG are pointing down a gradually sloping hill off to our right. The hill slopes
down to the Song Be River. As we passed the last hootch, off in the distance I could see
the town of Song Be, the water tower of our camp was clearly visible. I felt a little better
about the situation then and decide to radio check the camp just for the heck of it. No problem, loud
and clear both ways. I turned the truck around and then asked the engineers if they wanted to hike
down to look at the rock or gravel or whatever is down there. Yes, they want to go see it for themselves.
I told them that I was not real comfortable with the place and we needed to
leave someone here with the vehicle. I decide that the two CIDG strikers would take two of the
engineers down to the gravel and one of the Filipinos and myself would stay and keep an eye
on the place and the vehicle.
They head off, the strikers as cheerful as can be, and
I still have an uneasy feeling about something. As I'm gazing off towards the camp, and
thinking about the whereabouts of all the men that should be in the village - it hits me.
This is the Chu Hoi resettlement village where the POW had been brought for the VC rally. The big pile of
debris, that we're parked next to, is undoubtedly the remains of the bonfire we'd seen a couple of nights
previously. Now I'm really getting uneasy. I ask the Filipino with me if he's ever handled a
weapon before. He tells me that he was in the P.C. (Philippines Constabulary) for a couple of
years and he's familiar with all sorts of weapons. I handed him my .38, tell him about the situation
and ask him to keep a guard towards our rear. I chamber a round in my AR-15 and get prepared.
I figure there must be men in the hootches and they're going to come out sooner or later. It was
too late to call the men back from the river and I couldn't leave them there, we'd just have to wait
it out. And, it starts to rain.
I radio checked the camp again and asked if we had any FACs airborne.
Negative, but one should be taking off shortly. I'm thinking, be cool, nothing to be gained by getting
panicky at this point. Suddenly there's a muffled explosion from the direction that the CIDG took
the engineers, then two more explosions in quick succession. Now I'm thinking, oh S---,
they've walked into a minefield. My first thought was to get down there to them quickly, but I
can't leave this guy here by himself with just a .38, he'd be a goner for sure. I sure wasn't
prepared to hand him the rifle and go down there with just a handgun either. Okay,
we're just going to wait a few minutes until one of the FACs gets airborne and I'll see if
I can get him to take a look at what happened to the people down at the river.
Then, I heard voices in the direction the party had gone, they sounded
quite unconcerned about making noise so I figured it must be the engineering party coming back.
All four of them came into view and as they got closer I could see that the two CIDG had
something hanging off their rifles. Fish! The jerks had thrown hand grenades in the water
to stun the fish.
Colonel Sanders thought this was the
funniest thing he'd ever seen and I was ready to shoot the whole lot of them. I made the
strikers leave half of the fish on the debris pile for the villagers and then ordered everyone
into the vehicle. The rain was really pelting down then and we needed to get back up that
dirt road before it turned to mud. |
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The rain was coming down so hard that it was beating the elephant
grass down so that it almost covered the road. Elephant grass is some pretty nasty
stuff, the long thin leaves are as sharp as a razor and it sliced my left arm up pretty good before
we got through it and back onto the main road. We were all soaking wet, splashed with mud, and
my arm was oozing blood from the grass cuts. It was freezing cold after the heat of the day.
After I had dropped the survey people off at the airstrip and got back to camp, I ducked under
the roof of the porch of our admin building, as cover from the rain, and started laughing.
I'm not sure what I was laughing about, but suddenly it struck me that I could have just as easily
have been dead right then. Instead, I've been out driving around with Colonel Sanders and a
bunch of Kentucky Fried Fish. I suppose it was just my way of coping with a trying day. I sat down
on the porch next to a CIDG soldier that was sitting there and I was still laughing. Then I noticed this
guy wasn't one of our strikers, he had the skull and crossbone shoulder patch and red, white &
blue identification scarf of the Special Forces Mike Force (Mobile Strike Force). I was still laughing but
then notice that he'd been wounded, and there was lots of blood. I looked closer and saw that his
right arm was missing below the elbow. Things weren't quite so funny anymore.
He looked at me with sort of a glazed look in his eyes and I was
hoping that is was from the morphine, 'cause he's gotta be in a lot of pain. I dug in my pocket
for a cigarette and fished out a pack that was pretty well soaked but found two that could be lit. I
lit one up for the other guy and took the next least soggy one for myself. I got them lit and
he and I just sort of sat there looking at each other, I figure he can't speak a word of English
and I sure couldn't talk to him in his language. No words were necessary, I could see that he
appreciated the cigarette and I think he knew that I felt for him. The rain stopped just as
suddenly as it had started and we just continued to sit there for a few minutes. It wasn't
long until we could hear a chopper coming in and someone came out of the mess hall
and across to us. I guess he was a medic, he helped the man get to his feet and I handed
him the rest of the pack of soggy cigarettes. He accepted them with a look of thanks and they left.
Later on, I enquired what the Mike Force was doing in our area and
was informed that they had been on some sort of classified operation not far from where
I had been earlier and that I wouldn't have been told to go out there if anyone in the camp
had been aware the operation was going on. They had been engaged in a battle with an
unknown number of VC and had been extracted back to Song Be for immediate medical assistance from
our medics. Now - I had a pretty good idea of where all of the men from that village had been.
Another day I'll remember for a long-long time.
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