LZ SUSIE (PIG)
The worst SNAFU/FUBAR of my tour!



by Sgt Mike Medley

 

PROLOGUE:  I originally started this story after Herb Ables mentioned going into a hot LZ as part of the advance party on a Snafu mission about 15 years or so ago on another website.  I didn't trust my own memory so we started emailing each other and decided to write a joint account like we did with the fight at St. George.  When Herb disappeared I figured the memories were too hard to continue.  I mentioned this to Dennis in an email and, Dennis being Dennis, found and sent me Herb's obituary.  RIP friend, your story lives on.

My best friend in Nam, Clint Curry, and I were about equally hated by 1st Sgt McPeak so we were almost always 'volunteered' to go on hip shoots (brief arty missions) if they were remote or of unknown risk and as advance party, if going in to establish a new LZ.  Poor Eugene (George) Jarrish was a very easygoing guy and fit in well with us to be as part of the traveling FDC (Fire Direction Center) party. 

Clint ETS'd (went home) the day after our fight at St. George, and George departed while we were on LZ Tuffy.  At this time, with Nixon's withdrawal going and few replacements coming in, but I inherited two new guys, Carl from Georgia and Tom “Terrific” from Colorado.  It speaks ill of me, but I didn't bother to learn their last names.

LZ Susie (the “Pig” was added later) was the worst advance party experience of my tour, although LZ TUFFY was by far the worst overall. Susie was a barren mountain top, or high ridge, that had never been inhabited by the Army.  The plan was for a daisy cutter (large bomb that clears vegetation) to be dropped to blow the top and vegetation off so it would be ready for building an LZ.  It was almost a perfect horseshoe shape with the inside of the horseshoe being a fairly open approach and the outside of the horseshoe being about 60 degrees and nearly impossible to climb.  The ends of the horseshoe were to be occupied by 1/14th four deuces (infantry mortars) and the other end by "A" Battery,  2/9th Artillery.

The FDC advance party was three cannon cockers on one side with the six optical devices (pantels -or- panoramic telescopes) (sorry, I never had any actual experience on the howitzers), with Carl and me on the other side and the FDC travel chest between us.  Carl and I were hanging on to the handles as we approached where the blown LZ was supposed to be when we noticed a big cleared circle on the side of a ridge line a couple of klicks (1,000 meters) from where we were headed.  Yep, that blown area was meant for our mountain top and the missed daisy cutter was the first indication that we were in for a wild time.

Just barely skimming over seas of elephant grass our slicks continued towards the completely vegetated LZ site.  Suddenly green tracers started coming up towards our flight of slicks.  Our door gunners opened up and when yellow tracers started coming up  the slick drivers hit the gas, with several of the slicks in front of us appearing to clear out without unloading.  Unfortunately we were farther back and our pilot just fanned out about 10-15 feet above the elephant grass and the next thing I knew I felt myself  being kicked out of the door.

The way the travel chest was built the handle closed down on my hand, trapping it. Carl, who was large, strong and too new to have lost his weight, had the other handle, leaving me hanging out of the chopper as a spectator with a ring-side seat.  The strange thing is those few seconds I was swinging above the action was about the only time in Nam that I was not afraid.  I remember thinking “so this is how it ends” just before I started falling again.  I don't know if Carl was also kicked off or jumped off.  I fell to the elephant grass and then through the elephant grass until hitting the ground uninjured and barely cut by the elephant grass that broke my fall.

It was, or seemed to be, completely quiet after the choppers scrambled away.  I was also being completely quiet because I could hear rustling but it was impossible to see through the vegetation and I had no idea whether the noise was being made by us or by them looking for us.  A minute earlier I had experienced my lack of fear and now I was scared to death.  My worst fear was of being separated, lost and alone without any of my buddies.  I wished they had furnished us with those cricket devices the airborne carried in WWII.

Eventually I got up enough nerve to say ”American?” very quietly  The vegetation about 8 feet away started really swaying then Carl popped through and fortunately neither one of us opened up on the other.  We made our way up from the bottom of the horseshoe to the top and reuniting with the others from the advance party.  The vegetation was thinner but we still couldn't get a good idea of the physical layout of the top.  When the rest of the battery came in they put the FDC CONEX (CONEX stands for Container, Export, which was converted to a portable building, ready for immediate use upon landing) right in the middle of what became the perimeter line and right in line with the easiest route up from the open bottom of the horseshoe.

Since we were initially completely surrounded by vegetation we dug fighting positions on either side of the CONEX although we couldn't see ten feet in front of our positions.  The engineers sent out a crew with bangalore torpedos and we helped them string them and they blew us a clear firing range of about 25 feet for the first night. (A good defensive position must contain a clear "line of sight" to the perimeter).

Other than frequent inaccurate sniper fire, things got back to normal, except we started getting mermite containers of real food almost every day.  The only problem was that it was served on a very narrow ridge at the top of the horseshoe separating the artillery and infantry, and every evening millions of bees would swarm over the area on their way back to wherever bees go.  I got my hands on a case of LRP (long range patrol) rations and dined well without braving the bees.

Okay, how the LZ unofficially becme known as LZ Susie Pig.  The Lt Colonel's of both the 1/14th and 2/9th would frequently fly out in their Loachs (observation aircraft) between their lunch and dinner to get in the hours for their Air Medals.  The I/14th commander, who we lovingly called the Rusty Lizard (since he was officially the Golden Dragon), apparently named the LZ after his daughter.  He liked to strut around inspecting things and noting deficiencies such as improper head gear, not having a shirt on, failure to salute him etc. 

He usually stayed on the grunt (Infantry) side but would occasionally venture into "enemy territory" – the artillery side of the LZ.  The grunts were always complaining about his desire to adhere to stateside behavior in the field.  In sympathy, when he came over to the artillery side one our guys very pointedly looked at him and walked right past. The Lt Col locked his heels and got in his face asking why he hadn't saluted him since he was clearly wearing a black oak leaf insignia on his collar.  The artillery guy said “Sir, we frequently get inaccurate sniper fire and I didn't want to get accidentally shot when they were aiming at you”.  I didn't actually witness this but knowing who it was attributed to I have no doubt it was true.

While we were still digging in Nan “the Man” Nankervis came out on a resupply bird to bid farewell.  We were sitting on the edge of the fighting position I was digging when our local sniper (we called Barney Fife) let loose from the tree line below.  Nan and I flipped over into the hole and I landed on top of his camera and ended up with glass in my rump.  When Doc was pulling glass shards out he asked if I was going to go for a Purple Heart since the injury occurred under fire.  I told him if I did that would be the most embarrassing dummy award ever.

Sgt Mike Medley