Artillery Battery below a ridgeline?
LZ TUFFY
What
idiot would insert an
Artillery Battery below a ridgeline?
FIRST IN, LAST OUT, AND MISERABLE IN-BETWEEN
by
Sgt Mike Medley
PROLOGUE: For anyone
reading this who is not a Nam Vet, I don't use the word “dink” in a
pejorative manner. It simply means I didn't know at the time if the enemy “du
jour” was Viet Cong (primarily South Vietnamese guerrilla combatants) or NVA
(North Vietnamese soldiers).
During
the monsoon season we were based at LZ St. George and hip-shooted from
there. If the hip shoot (a short mission using a few howitzers
& an FDC crew) was away from
roads or in high risk areas, the usual FDC
travel guys
were Clint Curry, Eugene Jarrish and
me. Clint ETS'd (went home) the day after our battle for St. George,
so after that, it was usually me, George and whatever
"eltee"
(shorthand for a
Lieutenant) whose field time up and was at the battery waiting to land a slot at
Camp Enari. Most were uninspiring with the exception of Lt. Hermie
Rucker, who we nick-named “Rucksack”, a well-liked, exemplary officer who
was respected because he led by example, not rank.
After
we had the St. George battle, they moved the battery ASAP before the press could
catch up with what happened there. We moved by road to outside of Ban Me
Thuot and next to a rubber plantation. Our job was to rebuild the firebase
so the ARVNS (indigenous
South Vietnamese troops) could
go guard bridges. I missed most of that on R&R with my wife in Hawaii
and then going on a hip shoot to LZ Marie, I believe it was called, where we had
a little dust-up when the LP (Listening
Post) party going out got hit right
away and, by the time they ran back in, the dinks started walking 60mm mortars
in towards our wire (aka our perimeter), probably in advance of a ground attack.
We
were on gun-target line (friendly troops under the arc
of the howitzers) with the tubes at
the firebase so we couldn't shoot them, so we started shooting firecracker
rounds (multiple bomblet rounds) almost straight up over the single strand of
concertina wire to hopefully discourage an attempted ground attack. The
wind was blowing in so everyone as far down as possible. There is nothing
more chilling than hearing nine bomblets floating down and not knowing where
they were going to pop up and explode. Fortunately, all but one landed on
the other side of the wire and the mini attack ended.
On
New Years, the 3rd Brigade,
or at least our battery and the 1/14th Battalion
we supported, moved to Camp Radcliff for a short stand down camping
out by the base's
perimeter, during which we got mortared from the big hill in the middle of the
base
camp. From there we moved to
– think it was named LZ Hard Times – a joint LZ with both American troops
and ARVNs with a some concertina wire separating the two.
All
of our equipment and troops were there waiting to be moved by helicopter to a
establish a new LZ in the mountains. I was pulling radio watch in the FDC
CONEX (portable building) late in the night or early morning when all of a
sudden a firefight broke out between US
troops and the ARVNs, some of whom had crawled through the wire into the US area
and were stealing our gear and personal items and got caught trying to tote our
stuff back through the wire to their side. The Americans opened up on the
thieves, their side fired back and fortunately ended with no damage other than
the Americans having even more disrespect for our South Vietnamese allies than
already existed.
From
there I was off with Lt Rucksack, George and three guys from the guns (aka "cannoneers")
as Advance Party to secure and establish our artillery positions on LZ Tuffy.
I don't know how many slicks were intended to be used on the initial insert but
only four got through. The first slick had the grunt Lt, his RTO and four other
infantrymen,
slick Number 2 had six grunts, and the six artillery guys were in the third
slick with a fourth slick of infantry right behind us.
Coming
into LZ
Tuffy it looked like a sea of red mud
with some small vegetation on top of a very small area on the top of a steep
hill, with destruction all around the base of the site. We were wondering
how a battery could function in such a small amount of usable area, and we also
questioned the location being so close to a heavily tree covered ridgeline that
overlooked the LZ.
What
we hadn't been told beforehand was that we would be the third unit to occupy LZ
Tuffy, The 1st Cav and either the 101st
or 173rd (can't remember which) were both hit hard and evacuated under fire
during their turns on Tuffy. Going in we could see some wrecked choppers
around the bottom of the hill and the whole area below had apparently been
blasted by an Arc Light (B52 bomb raid).
When
we were getting close to Tuffy it looked like we could have leaned out, reached
up and touched the clouds. There was only one place on
the
LZ suitable for a chopper to land,
and we made an uncontested landing. As soon as their slicks (Hueys) got near the
ground the infantry in the first and second choppers immediately running
into the little vegetation that existed to take cover.
After
we jumped off our slick we heard a lot of screaming and saw a couple of grunts
waving down the 4th slick coming in while others were limping or
being helped back to the initial insert landing area. It seems that while
the dinks didn't actively oppose our landing, they had left behind a welcoming
gift of punji stakes
(booby traps) deployed all throughout the vegetation. Fortunately the
artillery guys didn't go charging into the LZ and sustained no injuries.
When
the 4th slick came it dropped off its six troops and the seven
casualties of the punji stakes
were loaded on and quickly departed. Unfortunately the evacuees included
the infantry Lt,
his RTO, and the grunt radio. The weather had completely closed in, it was
raining hard and we were alone on the LZ – 11 grunts and 6 artillery. We
quickly discovered that while the dinks had left us punji stakes,
the Army had left us with an LZ covered with drums of persistent CS (tear
gas) ground into the wet mud when the
prior unit departed.
We
had no idea what was going on with the lift or what higher intended to do about
us. We could hear multiple choppers flying around us and Lt
Rucksack tried to use the PRC25 (backpack
radio) to make contact, but the
handset on the radio was soaked and couldn't even break squelch (get
on the air) with the second
handset I had doing no better, even though both had been wrapped in plastic.
Left
on our own, the grunts and their .60 caliber machine gun went off and hunkered
down, as did the artillery group. All of us desperately trying to find
someplace to escape the CS, which mainly just burned where it touched.
We
found a couple of a couple of eroded large holes that might have been bunkers at
one time, or bomb craters, and with them being lower than the surrounding areas
and away from the CS drums allowed us to settle into the muddy bottom, sitting
on our helmets. The gun crew guys took one hole and we took another
near theirs. You can see what the mud was like from the Tuffy pictures in
my photo section
(go to the Photo Gallery link under Mike Medley).
We
took stock of what we had with us. Since this was just supposed to be a
insert with battery following on directly after. So we had our
M-16s, extra bandoliers of ammo, two
canteens of water each. And for food: 1 tin of red herrings and 1 tin of
smoked oysters that Lt
Rucksack had in his pack left from
his Christmas box from home. Whenever I went off the firebase I always
stuffed a lot of toilet paper between the helmet and helmet liner to keep dry.
Not this time, but fortunately we had just had a stand-down at Radcliff I had a
bunch of small denomination bills to use.
I
am not sure how many days it was that we were stranded and basically at the
mercy of our enemy, if they had known we didn't have squat for defense. I
really think that the continuing sound of choppers circling trying to locate us,
and the enemies inability to see our location, saved our lives. The bad
guys must have thought those choppers flying all around us were bringing in
troops and weapons.
The
infantry left them holding the impression that we were strong in manpower.
There was a gully going right up to the edge of the LZ, coming up right behind
where the three-holer (that's
the commode that won't flush) was later placed as shown in the photograph in my
photo section. Every morning a dink would crawl up close and blindly shoot
off an AK47 magazine. Our grunts, who also had no great stock of ammo,
would all open up for a short burst - .60
cal, M-16s and I think a bloop and grenade
(M79 grenade launcher) – which gave the impression we were loaded for bear.
I
don't
know how many days we were stranded, but I think it was four. Eventually
the weather cleared and everyone else came to the party and we started building
up. It was a dangerous and slippery hike down the steep slope to the
ground on the other side of our LZ from the looming above our LZ to obtain cover
for our bunkers. From the landscape below,
it is horrible to think about what the two units before us had to face.
There were the remains of several helicopters that had been downed and the whole
place
was one big, scary landscape. Arc Lights
(the B-52's) had blasted the area and it was
dangerous for us to seek out timbers since the still standing trees were liable
to fall at the least movement – as my
right knee will still attest. Large, sharp metal pieces of bombs were
everywhere. Eventually we got our base livable and settled in for a
miserable stay.
Due
to the small LZ and the steep drop offs it was impossible for us to shoot a
battery fire mission without switching to high angle
fire (cranking the howitzer tube high in the air and making totally different
math calculations than regular artillery fire).
Mud was always at least
ankle deep and it was impossible to stay dry through a whole day. Food was
strictly cold Cs (C-rations)
since there was not enough C4 explosive
available to heat them, and using
heat tabs under cover from the rain would be almost as bad as the persistent CS
had been.
The
Army supply folks in Nam were really weird and inconsistent. When the sole
of my boot came loose I had to tie it on with a bootlace for two weeks before
supply could manage to get me a replacement pair. I wondered, and still
don't understand, how hard and time consuming it must have been to find a size 9˝
pair of boots.
I think when they had too much food in the rear to feed the "Base Camp Commandos" and "Remington Raiders" (the guys in the rear with the beer) they would ship whatever they couldn't get out to the forward firebases rather than having to haul it to the rear base's garbage dump. One time we were delivered thousands of raw eggs, which we had no way to cook until our Chief of Smoke (Chief of Firing Battery) somehow used extra powder bags left over from fire missions to boil the eggs in our helmets. I don't know how he did it, but we were stuffed with eggs and the LZ was left smelling like a sulfur mine for a few days.
The
good memory
for me of Tuffy was a visit by celebrities
Joey Bishop and Ernie Banks.
Normally celebrities only visited safe rear area to punch their “patriot”
card, so this was very unusual. It was very special for me because when Ernie
was a rookie, and the first black Chicago Cub, we lived for a few years in
an apartment on Sheffield two buildings over from the right field flag pole.
This was back in the beginning of the 50's when baseball players were just real
people and Wrigley would leave the wall gates in the outfield fences open during
practice. I was a regular stadium rat and the ball players were really
great to put up with me, especially Ernie who would play catch with me and
became my hero for life.
When
it came time to break down the firebase and prepare to move on, I was a very
short-timer and was losing my nerve, and I felt, my luck. I thought I had
done enough advance party, so I decided to sit this one out and be part of the
rear party to make sure the firebase was totally destroyed and left nothing that
could be used by the dinks. Bad Choice.
All
of he howitzers and their crews except two had been safely hooked up and lifted
out by Chinooks (CH-47
Utility Chopper) and the FDC CONEX
by a SkyCrane
helicopter, leaving only two howitzers and crew to go. I was down with the
last crew helping get the last howitzer ready to go. We watched the Chinook with
Pineapple's (that
was his nickname; never knew his real name) howitzer
and gun section, pulling out and I was thinking “one more and I'm out of
this hell hole”.
As
went down the ravine between Tuffy and the higher ridgeline. Suddenly the
entire length of the ridgeline facing Tuffy opened up on the Chinook, hitting
the pilot in the throat and severing the hydraulic system. The Chinook was
forced to drop Pineapple's howitzer and the net, which held 10 rounds and all of
the section's personal gear.
I
heard that the pilot – a Major - lived, and the gun was either recovered or
destroyed in place, but not all of the personal items were recovered. The
missing items included Pineapple's cameras and photos, which was a great loss
since he was a great photographer and was known to set the camera on open and
record firefights on a single frame, which was amazingly terrifying and
beautiful.
The
last howitzer was on the far side of Tuffy and way down the slope so it was
probably not visible from the ridgeline and the dinks might not have been aware
it was still on the firebase. Lucky for us, otherwise we would have been
the ones caught the ambush. I think there were 10 or eleven of us, a
howitzer, and 10 rounds in the net – one of which was smoke – left on Tuffy.
The good thing is we hadn't been shot up, but the bad thing I was once again
stranded on an otherwise barely manned hill top.
When
we saw the Chinook being blasted we manhandled the howitzer, which had been un-staked
in preparation for the move, up the hill so that the top was up just enough to
see the ridgeline through the barrel. The next several minutes was like a
real life game of whack-a-mole. The gun was first partially staked then
one of the artillery section would jump up and open the breech then duck down
while the dinks fired and we fired back. Then another 2 guys would pop up
unload and reload. Then we would fire. We went through all 10 rounds
in than manner – including the smoke round – until we were out of ammo.
I
can't swear by the sequence of the following events since it comes to me like a
series of freeze frame photos. By the time our last round was fired he
gunships were on-station and blasting the ridgeline with rockets and machine
guns and becoming the targets in our place.
A
FAC came on-station calling in artillery when the gunships cleared, and Cobras
showed up and started more directly attacking dink positions rather then running
the gauntlet like the gunships had been doing. All of a sudden it got
quiet, with no firing from our side. Then a flight of fast-movers (AF
Jets) roared overhead, seemingly
almost over the top of us. They expended their ordinance and left, and all
was quiet, for a while.
Once
again a helicopter - this time a Chinook - approached our location to pick us up
and the howitzer. We thought we were saved, then the firing started again
and the Chinook veered off. It was getting late in the day and the fear
was we would not get off the firebase that night. We had no doubt that
after dark the dinks would come.
After
that I lost it. I went to over a pile of ripped apart sandbags and put my
leg on the top, hoping it would get shot and a Medevac
would come get me. I was willing to give up a leg to get off Tuffy and go
home. Then the Chinook came back again and no shooting as I recall.
The gun was hooked up and we were off heading away from the ridgeline which
remained silent.
I
was still in a state of shock and wondered what the next firebase would bring.
I was told it was at Bong Son
(LZ English), a name I had heard before as being a bad area.
When we got to the next battery location it was beautiful, set up in a graveyard
overlooking a river that almost completely surrounded the hill. Everyone
else had already been down to the river with a sand beach, so the last of us
from Tuffy got to go down and bathe, my first time in water since R&R in
Hawaii with my wife during Thanksgiving.
Within
a few days the battery was scheduled to move yet again. I decided I had
had enough and went go back to Radcliff to have a molar that had gone bad while
on Tuffy removed. I spent a little over a week at Radcliff with resupply
manning the .60 caliber
on the back of a deuce and a half
running resupply from Radcliff to the pad at LZ
Hard Time for choppers to deliver to
the units in the mountains.
While
I was at Radcliff I had a bit more excitement when the helicopter line was hit
by sappers who blew up a bunch of the helicopters. Since the base had been
immediately locked down, the Vietnamese workers reporting to work the next
morning were detained since they were the bombers as they had not left the base
the previous evening. But that is a story for another time.
As far as I was concerned my war was over. My orders giving me a week drop had been rescinded by an order to return to Camp Enari, which was now basically abandoned, and prepare to return the colors to Ft. Lewis as part of the withdrawal. {Webmaster Note: This was 1970 and the troops were being slowly withdrawn from battle action. See concluding note. below}. I was under the impression it was the 3rd Brigade colors but now I wonder if it was actually a return to the 25th Infantry Division of the units that had been swapped with 4th Division on 1Aug67, since 2/9th Artillery is organic to the 25th Division.
I really didn't care whose colors they were all I wanted to do was get home. There were 72 of us returning the colors. Not really an honor since we were all short-timer NCOs and Company grade officers. Most of us had done our time in the field and had to turn in our weapons and depend on a few bunker guards for protection. But we made it to Pleiku Airbase and the Freedom Bird home.
Sgt Mike Medley
WEBMASTER'S
NOTE: The time frame of the "stand-down" (early 70s),
took place while Kissinger was selling his "Peace With Honor" (shuttle diplomacy)
in Paris. We now know it was all horse manure; we were getting our troops
out of Vietnam. Our troops were in serious danger during this period since the enemy didn't give a
damn about Kissinger or any other Washington, DC politician.