ABOUT THE BOOK
On the afternoon of 18 August 1966, a rubber plantation near Long Tan, in Phuoc Tuy Province, South Vietnam, became the stage for one of the bloodiest battles of the Vietnam War involving Australian troops – and one of the most significant battles during the Vietnam War for the Australian Task Force.
The Australians had arrived at Nui Dat four months earlier to open up the province. While patrolling five kilometres east of Nui Dat, Delta Company of 6RAR, originally numbering just 105 Australians and three New Zealanders, collided with Viet Cong forces numbering around 2500 troops in the plantation, ahead of a planned Vietnamese ambush.
The enemy were surprised by their sudden appearances and attacked in force, using mortar, machine gun and small arms fire. Completely surrounded, and short on ammunition, the Australians could only guess at the overwhelming strength of the enemy that was attacking them. Morning light revealed a shattered woodland, trees bleeding latex – and hundreds of dead enemy soldiers who had fallen as part of numerous human-wave assaults against the small ANZAC force. What was first thought by the Australians to be a significant defeat quickly turned out to be a major victory.
Marking the battle’s 50th anniversary, and drawing on unpublished first-hand accounts from servicemen at all levels of command, critically-acclaimed military historian David Cameron brings to life blow-by-blow the events of this famous battle as it unfolded – minute by minute, hour by hour – and reveals the deeds of heroism and mateship now part of Australia’s Vietnam War story. His compelling account commemorates the men who fought in the rubber plantation of Long Tan – and those who did not come home.
CONTENTS
PART ONE: The War
1 ‘. . . the grass needed cutting’
2 ‘We have come to reclaim our inheritance’
3 ‘. . . whose heads they nailed to the nearest bridge’
4 ‘. . . find, fix and finish’
5 ‘Keep those bloody choppers away from us’
6 ‘. . . started swimming for home, clutching a bottle of gin’
7 ‘. . . aware of the threat to their stomach and nervous system’
8 ‘. . . it was the one grain of gold amongst all the crap’
9 ‘We then proceeded to brief the diggers’
PART TWO: The Battle
10 ‘I’m staying in and doing my time’
11 ‘I noticed everyone else had done the same . . .’
12 ‘I was surprised when he introduced himself as Frank’
13 ‘. . . then all hell broke loose’
14 ‘I could tell by his voice that the platoon was in trouble’
15 ‘. . . give me every gun they have’
16 ‘. . . tell the boss that the radio’s gone’
17 ‘. . . you better put the stuff on top of us’
18 ‘. . . the din of the engines and the noise of war’
19 ‘Keep this for me, skipper’
20 ‘Bugger you, George, I’m coming too’
21 ‘I just screamed at him to piss off’
22 ‘Well, let’s go – because it’s no good staying here’
23 ‘Got that bastard, sir’
24 ‘We’re not going to get out of this – no way’
25 ‘They’re forming up to hit us from behind!’
26 ‘I’m a Yank! I’m a Yank!’
27 ‘Frank said we would take the bodies’
PART THREE: Aftermath
28 ‘. . . I must say that I was troubled all night’
29 ‘He’s still trying to dig in’
30 ‘The squelch sound was still coming through his handpiece’
31 ‘The Claw’
32 ‘They had to face that all over again’
33 ‘OK, fellows, see you later’
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Notes
Bibliography
MAPS
1 Phuoc Tuy Province
2 D Company, entering the Long Tan rubber plantation
3 First main contact
4 11 Platoon assaulted and 10 Platoon assists
5 12 Platoon tries to extract 11 Platoon
6 Final stages of the battle
Part One
THE WAR
For you, intervention in . . . [Vietnam] will be an entanglement without end . . . The ideology that you invoke will not change anything. Even more, the masses will confuse it with your will to exert power. This is why the more you commit yourself there against Communism, the more the Communists will appear to be champions of national independence, the more they will receive help and first of all, that which comes from desperation. We French have experienced this . . . I predict to you that you will, step by step, become sucked into a bottomless military and political quagmire despite the losses and expenditure that you may squander.
President Charles de Gaulle to President John F. Kennedy, 1961
1
‘. . . the grass needed cutting’
At 2.43 a.m., 17 August 1966, the 1 Australian Task Force (1 ATF) base at Nui Dat, 80 kilometres south-east of Saigon in South Vietnam, was shelled by Viet Cong mortar, artillery and recoilless rifle fire; the shelling ceased at 3.05 a.m.
The commander of D Company, 6th Battalion, Royal Australian Regiment (6 RAR), Major Harry Smith, was lying in his cot after sharing a few beers with some visiting US fighter pilots at what went for the officers’ club when he heard the ‘pop, pop, pop, pop’ of mortars – 30 seconds later, the mortar bombs and shells came in. ‘All hell broke loose as officers, NCOs [non-commissioned officers] and soldiers shouted orders to take cover and prepare for attack. I rushed out of my tent, boots on the wrong feet. Cursing, I ran 50 metres across to the company headquarters command post, standing the company to their weapons pits and awaiting further action and orders.’1
One of Smith’s officers, Lieutenant David Sabben, commanding 12 Platoon, was with his men out in the forward defence line when the bombs and shells exploded some distance from his position; he, like many others, took compass bearings of the enemy firing positions and provided them to company headquarters, who relayed them to the battalion. One of his NCOs, Corporal Kevin Miller, who commanded 8 Section, had been manning an M60 machine gun close to the perimeter. He had moments earlier woken his relief and put him on the gun. He recalled it was soaking wet because of the rain ‘and I just wrapped up in a cot and wet blanket and thought I’d try and get some sleep and I heard the popping in the distance over towards Long Tan and then I heard the shells coming in over the top of us . . . and then hitting the Task Force . . . and one dropped short, not that far from us . . . I started to wake up my blokes, because some of them were still asleep . . . it was pitch black and they were bumping into rubber trees and I told them to get into their slit trenches . . . we jumped into the trenches [which were] half full of water.’2
Another of Sabben’s men, Private Terry Burstall, recalled how ‘inside the rubber . . . it was quite dark and in vain we strained our eyes to see . . . we could hear the mortars letting go – a PUMPH, PUMPH sound’.3 Close by, Private John Heslewood, also of Smith’s company, recalled hearing the standard ‘Bang, bang, bang’ of what he believed to be their own artillery, but this time it was followed by a ‘thump, thump, thump’ as the enemy shells and bombs came in exploding some distance away from A Company’s lines.4 Also in the forward location, out beyond the wire and just south of Nui Dat, was a New Zealand standing patrol under the command of Sergeant Richard Wilson of 161 Battery; with him was signaller Patrick Duggan, who recalled the first shells and bombs that came in sounding ‘not unlike . . . an expre
ss train approaching . . . and after a short pause which gave you time to ponder where it might fall, you’d hear that oncoming-train whoosh and the thud of the burst’.5
Corporal Robin Jones of B Company, 6 RAR had just finished sentry duty in his weapons pit; he was taking off his boots when he heard the sound of mortar bombs popping to the east of the base, quickly followed by explosions to the south-west of his location in and around Nui Dat hill, which was the location for the Special Air Service (SAS). He left in one hell of a hurry, minus his boots, yelling out to those around him that they were being mortared and to get under cover.6 Now Australian mortar fire begun to illuminate the base’s 10-kilometre perimeter. Jones recalled that the ‘light cast eerie shadows, moving through the rubber trees. Our eyes looked everywhere at once. Seeking out shapes or movement. We were certainly “on our toes”.’7 To the relief of those who could look into the momentary light defining no-man’s land, there was no sign of any enemy movement – but they also noted that the grass was thick and high. Just outside of the base perimeter at a listening post, Corporal Ross McDonald and a few of his men from D Company, 6 RAR had a perfect view of the incoming and outgoing shells and mortar bombs. He recalled that ‘with the mortars coming in and the artillery going out, it was quite an experience’.8
Most others in the base were also rushing from their tents carrying their gear, heading for the flooded weapons pits, while the officers took up their positions at the command posts. As the first shells and bombs came in, Captain George Bindley of 103 Field Battery recalled that they arrived ‘with a roar like flying kerosene tins filled with loose stones’.9 As he rushed from his tent to his battery, another round came in and he turned to see the tent ‘shrouded in smoke rolling down from the tree bursts’.10 Private David Buckwalter and his mate Private Peter Ericson were attached to the 1st Reinforcement Unit and remembered hearing Buckwalter’s NCO yelling just before the first round exploded: ‘Incoming mortar fire! Into the pits!’ Within seconds, mortar bombs were exploding all around them.11
Major Brian McFarlane, commanding C Company, 6 RAR, recalled how his company command post was at this stage just a 3-metre-square hole in the ground, 2 metres deep, with three levels – more by ‘accident than design. The lowest had become a drainage sump which was full of water. The main bottom was slushy, and there was a higher part on which you could stand to see out over the countryside. On that bit we saw by the starlight the extraordinary sight of Sergeant [Paul] “Blue” Pearce, stark bollocky naked except for a steel helmet, talking on his radio to his platoon of six mortars located near battalion headquarters.’12
Those sick and injured at the regimental aid post were helped into the weapons pits to take cover. One of these was Private Mick Levin of A Company, who was suffering from a severe case of pyrexia and was more concerned about getting to the latrine. During the shelling and bombing he turned to a medic and said, ‘“Listen, mate, if I don’t get out of this pit, I’m going to shit myself right here”. Reluctantly, the medic let me go to the thunderbox. After that, I was too tired and crook to care about mortars or anything else. I just staggered back to bed.’13 Similarly, Private Ken Tronc, of D Company, recalled making his way down to the perimeter and coming across Sergeant James ‘Paddy’ Todd. The private asked what he should do and was told to go back to bed. ‘So I went back, put on my steel helmet, and went back to sleep.’14
Some of those from the signals squadron were not overly concerned, as recalled by signaller Neil Tonkin: ‘When we were first mortared at Task Force headquarters we were all so “green” that no one got into their personal weapon pit except for Alex Fracas. Some members even ran to the diggers’ canteen to get a beer to keep them occupied. At the time we thought Alex was a bit stupid, but looking back he was the only sensible one.’15
Not all, however, recognised the shelling for what it was. Recently arrived 23-year-old US Army Lieutenant Gordon Steinbrook of the attached US 35th Artillery was in his tent and recalled that ‘the night was stormy, with wind blowing and rain falling heavily. About 3.00 a.m., my tent mate and I awakened to what we thought was extremely violent thunder and lightning. We got up off our cots, walked around a little, noticed bright flashes outside that we took for lightning, and then went back to bed. The next morning we awoke to discover that the entire Task Force base camp had been mortared and had taken recoilless rifle fire as well. Not far from our own area several 82mm Chicom [Communist China] mortar shells had hit.’16
Similarly, an exhausted Private Alan Parr of 12 Platoon, D Company, 6 RAR had fallen asleep hours earlier and slept through the whole thing. He later wrote that nearly every night at Nui Dat there were Anzac artillery rounds and mortar bombs being fired at ‘different grid positions at different intervals throughout the night so, unless you were in the Company or Platoon CPs [command posts] with a radio that night or they landed very close to your area and you were in the FDL [forward defensive location], you wouldn’t take much notice (and especially if you were a sound sleeper)’ – like Private Parr.17
Even before the mortaring of the base, 1 Field Regiment, Royal Australian Artillery had been conducting a routine harassment and interdiction mission. They weren’t aiming at a specific Viet Cong target but were shelling to keep the enemy on edge and make sure anyone out there kept moving through. Within minutes the officers and gunners abandoned their fire plan and conducted counter-battery fire using compass bearings supplied by New Zealand officer Major Harry Honnor and other reports that were coming in. Sergeant Graeme Smailes of 103 Battery recalled how they managed to get off a few rounds as the enemy mortar bombs continued to explode close to their position. No one had given it much thought and they continued to fire, but the gunners kept their heads down a bit further than was the norm, as some of the bombs were now exploding ‘too close for comfort’.18
Major Smith reckoned that an artillery piece was firing three times in between the mortar fire – he would later be proven right as shells from a Japanese World War II vintage small mountain gun were found. Normally, radar from the detachment of the Australian 131 Divisional Locating Battery, commanded by Captain Barry Campton, would zero in on the enemy positions, but the dispersed pattern of firing and its intensity made it difficult to gauge the accuracy of the pinpointed position. Firing was coming in from at least three directions, each with multiple weapons – not to mention the Anzac batteries firing missions from 1 ATF.19 However, Captain Campton had previously produced a counter-battery fire plan harking back to the basics developed during World War I, which proved to be very accurate.20
The Australian and New Zealand gunners did not cease firing until 4.10 a.m. In all they fired 480 shells. Captain Bindley recalled that the rest of the night passed quickly and all were relieved to see the dawn. The morning was bright, with ‘clear blue skies vividly highlighting the green vegetation and still-wet laterite’.21 Perhaps of even greater relief to him and others was that there was no sign of any further enemy activity. He recalled the Task Force commander, Brigadier David Jackson, making an appearance at 103 Battery; he was ‘clearly delighted by our effort and said so’, although 1 Field Regiment commanding officer Lieutenant Colonel Richmond Cubis could not help but notice his ‘gun position was untidy and the grass needed cutting’!22
Earlier, A Company – who were about 4 kilometres east of Nui Dat – had an uneasy night in the field, having spent two days and nights out on patrol. Hearing the mortar attack, at first they thought they were being targeted. Captain Charles Mollison had replaced Major Peter Smeaton a few weeks earlier as company commander when the major was wounded during Operation Hobart. Mollison later wrote that when the first bombs were fired, his heart sank. He cursed his decision not to dig in for the night and waited for the bombs to start exploding around him and his men. He recalled: ‘Ten seconds, 20 seconds – then the explosions! But the bombs were not landing on us. I grabbed the handset of the battalion radio. “What the hell is going on?” I called. “It sounds like a regiment of mortars f
iring.” Captain Les Peters, our mortar-platoon commander, was on duty in the battalion HQ command post. “Give us a bearing quickly,” he yelled. “They are coming down on us!”. . . I hurriedly took a compass bearing on the sound of the mortars and passed this information to Les.’23 Mollison’s position was almost at right angles to the line of fire, which enabled Captain Peters to better direct the fire of his mortars and artillery against the enemy firing positions.
Within minutes the response from the Anzac gunners became of concern to Captain Mollison and his men, as their shells were falling close by. Corporal Ross Smith, commanding 8 Section, 3 Platoon, recalled that as the Anzac artillery shells and mortar bombs started firing back at the enemy, the explosions seemed way too close for comfort. He and the others ‘clung to the ground and hoped they knew where we were. We also prayed for no “drop shorts”. We had already lost four wounded from a New Zealand Artillery drop short on the previous operation.’24 Just before dawn, Corporal Smith and his men heard the sound of movement to their front, not knowing if it was friend, foe or animal; his section held their fire. At first light Smith went forward and saw ‘Ho Chi Minh sandal’ footprints (from footwear made from tire treads), representing a small party of five to ten individuals, possibly one of the mortar teams. Captain Mollison and the men of A Company were now ordered by the Task Force commander to retrace their steps to the hills north-west of their present position, close to the elongated hill called Nui Dat 2.25
Meanwhile, 7 Platoon, C Company, 6 RAR, under the command of Lieutenant Mike Gillespie, had spent the night in a harbour position south of Nui Dat. At first light, they were to conduct search operations to the south before returning to base, while 9 Platoon, C Company, 6 RAR, commanded by Lieutenant Stewart Penny, would conduct search operations mounted in armoured personnel carriers (APCs) to investigate other suspected mortar firing positions south-west of the base. The men of B Company, 6 RAR, were to conduct a patrol east of the base in and around the Long Tan rubber plantation to try to locate the enemy mortar teams or at least their firing positions.26 The men of D Company, 6 RAR, who had the day before conducted a patrol of the Long Tan plantation, would remain at the base to help defend it – they were apparently the lucky ones.
The Battle of Long Tan Page 1
