Vietnam Diary

Feb 28, 1970 Saturday - The sound of nearby movement woke me with a start. It was morning and the movement I heard was the early risers who were picking up their poncho and poncho liner. That was all we had to lay on at night for a bed. I didn't know how soon we might be moving out or going on patrol so I got my things together and had a C-ration breakfast. Word was passed around that we would be staying and setting up an automatic ambush on a trotter. I hoped we would be moving out away from the bunker complex because of the unexplainable feeling I had that something bad was going to happen. Maybe it was just that there had been so many enemy contacts in this area and we were all on edge.

Cat platoon was sent out on patrol to find a trotter. It seemed like they had been gone for a long time before they contacted us by radio saying they had found a trotter and would be coming back to our perimeter. This was always a bit scary as the returning patrol got close we could hear movement but couldn't see who it was. It was a big relief when the pointman would come into view so we knew it wasn't the enemy. I had been on a guard position with a man everyone called Flash. Nicknames were used for most of the men. We were able to talk to each other very quietly for awhile until Cat platoon returned and took over our position. It felt good to have a chance to get to know someone and start making some friends. I hadn't seen a familiar face since leaving home in Michigan. I was still a new guy with a lot to learn and there hadn't been much time to get to know anyone or much about them.

While Cat platoon gave a report to Skipper of what they had found on patrol, the rest of us were either on guard or using the time to write letters home or clean our weapons. A few of the men managed to get a card game started.

Jake came around telling us that Range 2 had to get ready to go out on patrol to set up an automatic ambush on the trotter. The rear element of the patrol was just about to leave the perimeter when it sounded like the world was coming apart. Small arms fire came from both flanks and claymores exploded from near the front. I was near the back of the column and was ordered to stay at a guard position in the bunker complex to help form up the rear perimeter. The automatic weapons fire is deafening and explosions from claymores and hand grenades continue to blast us. Danny Bridges scrambled around finding ammo for the M-60 and quickly crawled toward the worst of the fighting to get more ammo to the machine gun. The battle was raging on and I couldn't find any ammo for the machine gun. I thought it would be best to go to the front with my M16 and all the loaded M16 magazines I could take with me. I hadn't gotten very far when I ran into 2 men carrying someone seriously wounded. The first man, our sergeant, pushed the man's legs into my arms and told me to help get him back where the medic could attend to him. It wasn't until we could set the wounded man down by the medic that I saw it was Flash. I and another man tried to help the medic do anything we could for Flash, but he was wounded too badly and quickly passed away.

Another claymore mine blew up right in front of Jake and some others, lifting them up with the force of the nearby explosion and slamming them back to the ground. Jake, Joe and Rudy had been hit. The enemy was breaking contact. It stopped as suddenly as it had started except now ours ears were ringing from the automatic weapons fire and explosions. The medevac arrived and left with our 3 wounded and 1 killed in action. We were resupplied with ammunition and had a short time to get ready to move out.

I've never felt so empty, hurting and numb with shock at the same time. There was no time to say or do anything to honor our fallen comrade. It didn't seem right. We all knew what had happened, but had to prepare to go on and each deal with the loss in our own way. This must be part of the reason veterans have trouble later in life when these feelings finally come to the surface after being suppressed for so long.

VIETNAM DIARY FEB 28, 1970

HONOR & COURAGE