While the initial thrusts across the Cambodian border grabbed the headlines, the temporary lull in fighting around Ripcord proved to be an anomaly. NVA sapper units kept up the pressure by moving against Delta Company, 1st Battalion, 506th Infantry, situated approximately five miles south at FSB Maureen, located right on the east wall of the A Shau. Following heavy enemy contact on May 5th and 6th, the company’s 2nd Platoon set up its night defensive position within the confines of Maureen. Somehow the determined sappers crept up the hill and infiltrated the perimeter just before dawn on May 7. At that point the night was laced with a crazy quilt of tracers and white muzzle blasts, while satchel charges began exploding everywhere, immediately killing the platoon leader, platoon sergeant, and the radio operator. In the confusion the platoon’s brand new medic, Private Kenneth M. Kays, raced across the perimeter to reach his wounded comrades. While moving in the open he found himself on the receiving end of a number of satchel charges, one of which blew his left leg off below the knee. After applying a tourniquet to the stump, Pvt Kays then dragged himself through the perimeter engulfed in small arms fire, administered medical aid to one of the wounded, and helped drag him to an area of relative safety. Despite his severe wound and excruciating pain, Pvt Kays returned to the perimeter in search of other platoon casualties. He treated another wounded comrade, and, using his own body as a shield against enemy bullets and fragments, moved him to safety. Although weak and dizzy from loss of blood, the 20-year-old from Fairfield, Illinois, resumed his heroic lifesaving efforts by crawling beyond the company’s perimeter into a hail of enemy fire to treat a wounded American lying there. Only after all his fellow wounded soldiers had been evacuated, Pvt Kays finally collapsed from loss of blood and was medevaced out. During the vicious sapper attack Delta Company lost six men killed and twelve wounded; without the platoon medic’s heroic actions, many more would have died. For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty, Kenneth M. Kays was awarded the Medal of Honor.22
Throughout the month of June, the Currahees continued to employ one company as a security force on Ripcord while the others executed reconnaissance-in-force missions and ambushes in the hills around the firebase. Even though contact was frequent, the brief skirmishes were with an enemy not quite ready to fight. Patrols regularly detected NVA activity on Hill 1000 approximately 1,000 meters to the west, on Hill 805 2,000 meters to the southeast, and around Hill 902, roughly 2,000 meters south of Ripcord, yet in spite of the aggressive patrolling, the Currahees never pieced together the ominous reality of their situation—and neither did the 3rd Brigade. In actuality, the enemy buildup around Ripcord had been proceeding undetected for some time. In his book, Hell on a Hilltop, Major General Benjamin L. Harrison, 3rd Brigade commander during the siege at Ripcord, characterized the limited intelligence provided by higher headquarters as “somewhere between disappointing and disgusting.”23 Confirming that intelligence failure, the 324B Division history indicates that it received its mission order as early as May 19 when tasked by its Military Region Headquarters to “concentrate its main force to attack and destroy Operating Base 935 [Ripcord was Hill 935 on the old French maps used by the NVA] and block and attack enemy elements stationed around the hill and forces sent to relieve the base … This would be the first battle in which most of the division’s forces would be concentrated in one sector.”24 In carrying out its orders, the NVA 324B Division secretly deployed eight battalions around Ripcord, hoping to replicate a smaller reenactment of Dien Bien Phu. Had they known, the Screaming Eagles inside the perimeter at Ripcord may well have sensed something akin to a 20th-century reenactment of the Alamo.
Just as the fighting was about to heat up at Ripcord, mounting opposition to the Vietnam War sparked a political battle on the floor of the United States Senate, pitting that august body against President Nixon in a clash that shook hawks and doves alike. In the wake of the Cambodian incursion, and in an overt move to flex its political muscle, on June 24th the Senate voted 81 to 10 on an amendment offered by Senator Robert Dole to the Foreign Military Sales Act, to repeal the Tonkin Gulf Resolution, an obvious attempt to limit presidential war powers. The Nixon administration took a neutral stance on the vote, denying that it relied on the Tonkin resolution as the basis for its war-making authority in Southeast Asia. In justifying its actions and policies in prosecuting the war, the administration asserted that it primarily drew on the constitutional authority of the president, as commander-in-chief, to protect the lives of U.S. military forces. The Senate vote nevertheless served as the first step in mandating limits on presidential authority to engage American forces in combat without a formal declaration of war.25
A few minutes after 7 a.m. on July 1, General Chu Phuong Doi, commander of the 324B Division, initiated the opening round against Fire Support Base Ripcord, an attack that primarily consisted of harassment by indirect fire from 360 degrees around the hilltop fortress. During the initial volley, the 2nd of the 506th command post received five 82mm mortar rounds, a clear indication that enemy mortar crews had indeed zeroed in on key facilities on Ripcord. Fortunately, the sturdy command post only suffered superficial damage, and its occupants, including Lt Colonel Lucas, escaped with only bad cases of ringing ears. A short time later, an additional barrage of 15 mortar rounds impacted around the 105 howitzer battery, followed by the murderous sound of high-velocity 75mm recoilless rifles drenching Ripcord in dirty smoke, drowning out the shouts of alarm and the cries of the wounded. As the fire continued throughout the day, the newly assigned brigade commander, Colonel Benjamin Harrison, confessed that “I was both surprised and interested in the increase in enemy activity, but did not conclude that something big was about to happen.”26
Air support from Cobra gunships and a Bilk FAC overhead attempted to take the pressure off by going after enemy mortar positions surrounding Ripcord. With a hail of rockets, the Cobras took out one entrenched mortar located at the base of Hill 805, while the FAC directed a flight of F-4s armed with ‘snake and nape’ against another position at the base of Hill 902. As the big Phantoms streaked by dumping their lethal loads of ordnance on the valley below, some of the Screaming Eagles on the firebase enjoyed the spectacular show by breaking out their cameras, but the men of the howitzer batteries were too busy to watch. During the day the artillerymen and mortar platoons on Ripcord worked unceasingly to deliver counter-battery fire against enemy positions, but since these men were forced to work in the open to fire their weapons, they sustained the only injuries inflicted: 15 artillerymen received minor wounds. With typical bravado and overstatement, the 324B Division history stated that the attack killed 70 Americans and destroyed the ARVN “puppet command post” on the FSB. No Screaming Eagles died at Ripcord on July 1st, and no ARVN troops were even present.27
THE SIEGE OF FSB RIPCORD, 1–23 JULY 1970
By late afternoon on the 1st, Lt Colonel Lucas put out a desperate call for a resupply to replace the more than 1,000 artillery and mortar rounds his men had fired at enemy positions. While unloading a delivery of ammo, one of the CH-47 Chinooks took so many shrapnel hits from exploding shells that it could not lift off the helipad. Several hours later another Chinook was brought down, not by mortar fire but by a close-range deadly burst from a .51 cal machine gun on the southeast slope of Ripcord. Concealed in a cave, the crew pushed the gun out and opened up on each helicopter that attempted to land. Watching the drama unfold, one of the grunts on Hill 805 noted that “The fast-movers [F-4s] came in and napalmed the whole area, and we thought, boy, nothing can be alive down there—but after the airstrike, the little bastards wheeled that gun back up to the opening and popped off a few more rounds just to let us know they were still there.”28
The opening NVA ground attack began early in the morning on July 2, not against Ripcord but rather against an outpost two kilometers south located on Hill 902. Defended by two platoons and the command section of Charlie Company, 2nd of the 506th, the bald
crest of the hill proved to be a nightmare for the band of Currahee brothers holding it. Most of it was of their own doing. In stark contrast to his predecessor, the hard-nosed and savvy Capt Vazquez, the new Charlie Company commander was evidently still learning the ropes and for whatever reason exhibited a somewhat lackadaisical attitude regarding security for a night defensive position. Apparently many of the troopers in both platoons were not properly dug in, the company had no listening posts manned, and most were asleep. The CO set a poor example by slinging a hammock between two trees right in the open, while a few feet away the rest of the command group unwisely used their ponchos to erect small lean-tos or pup tents above ground. They would pay in blood for their apathetic attitudes.
Taking full advantage of the security lapse, members of the elite 7th Sapper Battalion crept through the darkness dressed only in black shorts and covered head to toe with charcoal camouflage that made them almost invisible in the dark. Undetected and without firing a shot, they somehow slipped inside the perimeter between troopers dozing in their foxholes. More sappers and supporting infantry lay right outside the perimeter.
At 3:46 a.m. the battle erupted when an RPG slammed into the company commander’s hammock, literally blowing his legs off and killing him. The same explosion killed or wounded everyone in the command section only a few feet away. Total confusion reigned. Initially, most of the men of Charlie Company assumed the attack originated outside their perimeter. Snapping wide awake, they did as they had been trained, setting off claymores and tossing grenades so as not to give away their positions by firing their individual weapons. Yet in the dark chaos, satchel charges exploded all around them, tossed by an enemy they did not see. The company’s wounded radio operator, dazed and deaf from the initial RPG explosion, did manage to request illumination from Ripcord, and when the flares popped overhead and drifted down on parachutes, it was only then in the eerie, flickering light that the defenders realized that sappers behind them and inside the perimeter were tossing the deadly satchel charges.
Arguably the title of luckiest man on Hill 902 belonged to Private First Class Gerald A. Cafferty, Charlie Company’s senior medic from West Haven, Connecticut. As was the custom, everyone in the company called him “Doc.” During the initial RPG explosion he was peppered by shrapnel, one piece ripping his forearm open from elbow to wrist. Doc Cafferty remembered that satchel charges were exploding everywhere, like waking up on the Fourth of July. As the young medic crawled into the command post foxhole, a sapper tossed a satchel charge into the position; it wedged between Cafferty’s back and the shallow wall of the foxhole—inexplicably, it never went off.29
In the darkness and confusion, Specialist 4 Robert P. Radcliffe and Sergeant Lee N. Lenz, desperately looking for cover, dived into the small foxhole with Doc Cafferty. “There’s too many people in here,” Cafferty said. “They know this is the goddamn CP. We’re all going to get killed with one grenade. I’m outta here.” The Doc had only crawled a few feet when an RPG round exploded in the foxhole he had just left—both Radcliffe and Lenz were decapitated by the blast. Taking cover in the next foxhole he found, Jerry Cafferty literally landed on top of a figure cowering at the bottom, an artillery observer lieutenant who, as next senior officer, should have been leading the defense. Crouching there, half in and half out of the hole, Cafferty started to say something when a hand grenade flying through the air bounced off his helmet and landed only a few feet in front of him. The grenade never exploded. Frightened but still livid with the artillery observer, Doc Cafferty jumped out of the foxhole and immediately spotted several sappers only 30 feet away. With his M-16 on semiautomatic, he dropped them both then cut down several more that had materialized in the shadows.30
Private battles continued to rage around the top of Hill 902. Since all the officers and NCOs were either killed or incapacitated, PFC Cafferty assumed the mantle of de facto acting commander of Charlie Company. First he re-deployed the survivors along the perimeter foxholes, organized litter teams, and began bandaging and treating the wounded. With the approaching dawn, the battle ended at 4:20 a.m. when the NVA attackers melted back into the darkness at the bottom of the hill. They left behind 20 of their dead comrades inside Charlie Company’s perimeter. The American defenders suffered seven killed, six wounded, and one missing. When the relief force from Ripcord tried to medevac Doc Cafferty off the mountain, he refused to leave until all of his men were out. And when the relief force pulled out later that afternoon, the Americans forfeited the barren hilltop to the enemy. For his valor, gallantry, and leadership on Hill 902, Gerald A. Cafferty was awarded the Silver Star.31
Back at Ripcord, by 10:30 a.m. on July 2nd, it began subtly: at first a distant popping, the individual shots eventually coming so fast they finally blended into a steady, crackling roar, punctuated by the thumps of mortar shells. Almost immediately an incoming round took its toll, bringing down another Chinook. In light of the increased activity, the 3rd Brigade sent reinforcements in the form of the 2nd Battalion, 501st Infantry under the command of Lt Colonel Otis W. Livingston. Known as the “Drive On” battalion, the 2nd of the 501st immediately dispatched patrols southeast of Ripcord, hoping the additional manpower would turn the tide. It did not. On July 4th a trooper from the “Drive On” battalion’s Charlie Company unintentionally set off a lethal booby trap—five 82mm mortar rounds strung together in a “daisy chain” known as a mechanical ambush. The deadly explosion killed five men and wounded five more. Then, just after midnight, Charlie Company’s trial by fire continued when a substantial force of NVA sappers and infantry attacked around the company perimeter. The “Drive On” men held, driving off the enemy who left five dead behind. Charlie Company’s casualties included 1 killed and 17 WIA.32
Enemy activity around Ripcord increased dramatically during the first week of July, indicating a substantial NVA buildup, particularly in the vicinity of Hill 1000 due west of Ripcord. Lt Colonel Lucas sent his reconnaissance platoon against the hill on July 6, only to have them suffer five WIA at the hands of a large, well dug in enemy force. The following day Lucas deployed under-strength Charlie and Delta Companies against Hill 1000. Pinned down by a torrent of automatic weapons fire, the men of Delta ran out of fragmentation grenades. Lucas to the rescue! Ordering his pilot to hover at 15 feet above the ground, the battalion commander leaned out into the barrage of tracers and dropped several cases of smoke and fragmentation grenades to his men below. Riddled with holes and losing oil pressure, the chopper limped back to Ripcord where the gutsy commander immediately boarded a second helicopter and repeated the feat. In spite of the resupply, Delta could not advance, losing one man killed, two missing, and 19 men wounded. On the north face Charlie Company met a similar fate, with 1 KIA and 15 WIA. The battered companies tried again on July 8. Moving uphill over totally bare ground offering no cover, the 30 remaining men from Charlie lost two more killed and five wounded. The effort completely unraveled when Lt Colonel Lucas ordered a third attack against Hill 1000. The company commander, Captain Jeffrey D. Wilcox, refused the order. With only 23 exhausted, dehydrated men left in the entire company, Wilcox angrily stated that he would assault the hill alone but that he would not order his men to do so. Lt Colonel Lucas cancelled the third attack but relieved Wilcox of his command.33
As the daily pounding on Ripcord continued and the casualties mounted, the 3rd Brigade set its sights on clearing the enemy off Hill 805, approximately 2,000 meters to the southeast. On July 12, Alpha Company, 2nd of the 506, and Delta Company, 2nd of the 501st, captured the crest, only to be swarmed by enemy soldiers in a ferocious attack that night. Delta’s M-60 machine gun crews swept the ridge, firing constantly until they burned their barrels out and blistered their hands replacing them. During the violent firefight, with streams of American red tracers crisscrossing the night sky and NVA green tracers ricocheting in all directions, a radio operator from Delta’s 2nd Platoon typified the tenacity of the defenders when he was badly wounded in the arm by shrapnel fro
m an RPG explosion. After the medic hastily patched him up, the RTO got right back in the fight, his arm in a bloody bandage, tossing grenades with a vengeance down the slope on the advancing enemy. When the shooting finally stopped, the enemy had retreated back down the hill, leaving 26 Americans wounded but otherwise alive.
Two days later, July 14, 1970, Delta Company, still dug in on Hill 805, received a heavy volume of RPGs, satchel charges, and small arms fire from a large enemy force only a few meters northwest of their perimeter. During the close quarters fighting a satchel charge landed beside Sgt Jack Godwin from Selma, Alabama, blowing his left leg off. Godwin hunkered in the foxhole with his left leg below the knee gone, plus multiple injuries to his right leg and back. The air thick with smoke and tracer rounds, platoon leader 1st Lieutenant Terry A. Palm bolted down the hill and through the hail of fire to help Godwin. An NVA soldier near the foxhole shot Palm in the chest, causing him to fall into the foxhole on top of Sgt Godwin. Fortunately for Godwin, the NVA observed no movement and assumed he had killed everyone. As the enemy soldier ran up the hill, another Delta trooper, Paul “Rat” Guimond, cut him down with a long burst from his M-60 machine gun. “Rat blew him all to pieces,” said Godwin. As the melee continued, a medic, although wounded, made it to the foxhole. According to Jack Godwin, “The medics didn’t realize that the LT [Palm] had been shot right through the heart and it bored a hole in his back. I put my hand in it trying to get him off me. When his heart exploded, he just covered me with so much blood.”34
Over the next three days, the Screaming Eagles on Hill 805 were subjected to constant attacks. Out-manned and out-gunned, they could not hold on without reinforcements—none came. After suffering 9 more killed and 23 wounded, the two battered companies finally relinquished Hill 805 to the enemy on July 17. In the aftermath, the commander of Delta Company, Captain Christopher C. Straub, bitterly commented, “Often times a special degree of valor is required to get yourself out of a situation that you wouldn’t have been in in the first place if not for command stupidity.”35
A Shau Valor Page 26
