The Battle of Long Tan

by David W. Cameron

  They soon managed to break out of the immediate area being blanketed with enemy fire and were apparently now out of sight, as they were able to get back to Smith’s position without further casualties.42 The young lieutenant recalled walking ‘straight into company headquarters – there wasn’t a platoon in front, for example. Lieutenant Sabben had already left [and there was] some sort of preliminary defence for the company headquarters. I walked straight up to Harry and asked, “What do you want me to do?”’43 Smith told him to put his men around CHQ in all-round defence and that he had kept a section of 12 Platoon (9 Section) back with him.

  Lieutenant Kendall organised his men, placing McDonald’s section left forward (north-east), with Lea’s section right forward (south-east) and Corporal Doug Moggs’ section behind platoon HQ. It was still possible to see the enemy moving to the east, although in most cases they were too far away to waste a shot on. Kendall was unsure whether or not the Viet Cong knew his platoon had withdrawn; if they did, the Australians could expect to be attacked at any minute from a number of different directions by an overwhelming enemy force.44

  Of the 28 men in 11 Platoon, only about ten were now able to fire their weapons – the rest were either dead or seriously wounded. Halls remembered Corporal Bill Moore, commander of 5 Section, ordering those with automatic weapons to ‘fire only single rounds, not to fire them on “automatic”, to conserve rounds’.45 Buick reckoned they had at most about 15 minutes, more realistically ten, and after that all bets would be off. Without being ordered to, men began to gather up all the hand grenades and ammunition they could from the dead and wounded; machetes and entrenching tools were also laid out in arm’s reach ready for a last-stand defence.

  Private John Heslewood recalled that at this point things did ‘not look real good . . . when we started to run out of ammo. Some blokes had used more than another. I had a spare 30-round magazine for the SLR [self-loading rifle] which is for an automatic SLR which we didn’t have, but an SLR back then was 20 rounds and somehow I came across this 30-rounds one so I kept that, but it wouldn’t work on the rifle because the spring was too strong for the mechanism . . . for an automatic one, so the spring could pump them out quicker. I just had it in my pack so I had an extra 30 rounds that we shared around.’46

  Buick knew that the rest of the company would be trying to help extricate them, but he had no idea how this could be done. He radioed Stanley, asking him to bring the artillery fire right down on top of them – he had no choice, as the enemy was closing in. He yelled into the radio that Stanley had ‘better put the stuff on top of us because there is only about a dozen of us left out of 28 that [are] still capable of firing . . . Morrie being a good artillery man and a Kiwi wasn’t prepared to shoot his guns onto Australians.’47 Stanley informed Buick of the danger and told him that unless his troops were dug in, he was not prepared to adjust the fire onto Buick’s position.48 Even so, Buick was able to adjust the fire until it landed exactly where he wanted it, recalling that the artillery was coming over the top of their heads and landing about 50 metres in front. The ‘whole ground was shaking. You could feel the blast on the side of the face. It was lots of flash, lots of smoke, lots of noise.’49

  Buick directed the fire as the first rounds came in: ‘Drop 100, 25 right, drop 50 – now give it all to them! ’ He recalled that there was nothing more ‘spectacular or truly frightening as being near artillery gunfire when it lands close to you – the closest artillery round hit 25 to 30 metres in front of me’.50 Each shell contained around 15 kg of high explosive and when it exploded the shell shattered into shrapnel shards of metal, with the shrapnel flying towards the front of the exploding shell. Because D Company was behind the shells when they exploded, the destructive force of the explosion and resulting shrapnel impacted against the enemy to their front, much to the relief of the Australians.51 The Viet Cong front line was blasted to pieces, the forward attacking force completely obliterated.

  Private Brian Halls watched as another human wave came in, and remembered that it just ‘disappeared in a howl of artillery fire! At the right time, very close, too close! The ideal thing, just what we wanted.’52 However, it was inevitable that the next wave a few hundred metres behind would quickly take their place and attempt to wipe the Australians out.53 Private Ian Munro was out of ammunition and reduced to cheering on the Anzac gunners as their barrage exploded among the Vietnamese to his front. The Viet Cong were being blown away ‘almost in front of your face. It was very, very close and we were very, very grateful.’54

  Indeed, when the request from Stanley reached the artillery command post to lower the range just in front of 11 Platoon’s firing line, Sergeant Jim King was in the post and remembered someone yelling ‘“Drop 50” [metres] and someone else saying that the rounds would be on their heads if this occurred. There were some choice words being said over the radio. I suddenly realised just how close we were firing in front of our own troops. With that in mind I remember telling the detachment to make sure their laying and corrections were “spot-on”, as this was really close. For the rest of the battle, accuracy was paramount in our minds.’55

  Meanwhile, Townsend had warned A Company at 4.58 p.m. to prepare to move out at once to the scene of the fighting.56 The company had only just returned from their patrol; even so, they were the best situated to go – although they were tired, they had all their gear ready and it was only a matter of reissuing them with rations and ammunition and they were set to go again.57 Captain Charles Mollison of A Company was with Townsend discussing the best way of deploying his company when all transmissions on the battalion-command net frequency went blank and were replaced with Vietnamese music blaring out of the speakers: the Viet Cong were jamming communications. This required some sophistication, and emphasised that the force to the east of Nui Dat was not merely the local D445 VC Battalion. Standard operating procedures specified that a previously declared frequency should be used if any trouble was experienced, and communications were quickly re-established.

  The men of A Company had come back from their three-day patrol and most had had a shower and put on a clean uniform. They were entering the mess, which had tables full of food, including steak, chicken, turkey, hamburgers, fish, spaghetti and rice, and, most importantly, ice-cold beer. There was much discussion about the sudden large-scale artillery mission and the situation that D Company had apparently got itself into, but none had any idea how serious the situation was. Recent replacement in A Company Private Mick Greenwood was talking with his new commander, Lieutenant Trevor Gardiner, who had made his way to the mess after having been ‘chucked out’ of battalion headquarters, when a runner came down from company HQ telling them not to put their gear away as they would likely be going out again. Greenwood suggested to the lieutenant that he should wait until they came back to be allotted to a section. Not so, Gardiner informed him: ‘Just put your gear down there. You’ll be coming with us if we go out again.’58

  Corporal Rod Armstrong was close by talking to two other replacements assigned to Lieutenant Peter Dinham’s platoon. All were keen to get stuck into the feast laid out before them. Private Peter Bennett, a machine gunner, had just managed a mouthful of hamburger when the company sergeant, Major Jack Roughley, came in, ordering everyone to be ready to move out in five minutes, taking only basic webbing. Bennett recalled that it was ‘the best meal I had seen since the last one with my parents before leaving Australia. I had no sooner started to bite into a beautiful hamburger when the company sergeant major rushed over and announced that Delta Company was in big trouble and we were to get our gear back on and go out to their rescue. I managed to squeeze two hamburgers into my basic pouches before we had to dash off and get ammunition out of our ammunition bunker to load into the APCs.’59 Their previous relaxed demeanour vanished as the men ran back to their tents to get their gear; many changed back into the wet, smelly greens they had been wearing for the last three days. As they headed to their rendezvous point, the sergeants
were handing out as much ammunition as any man wanted. Greenwood recalled: ‘I was fairly shitting myself’.60 At the time he was not to know that one of his mates, 21-year-old postman and national serviceman Private Col Whiston, had already been killed in action.

  Townsend told Major Bob Hagerty of 1 APC Squadron that along with A Company they were to advance east of Nui Dat to the Long Tan rubber plantation. Townsend planned to use a helicopter to get close to the battle zone to meet up with the APCs.61 Hagerty had already briefed Lieutenant Adrian Roberts of 3 APC Troop that one of the companies in 6 RAR was in trouble and that he should take his troop across to 6 RAR battalion headquarters for orders.62 The troop would normally consist of 13 APCs, allowing three APCs per platoon (one per section) and one for CHQ, but Roberts informed his CO that only seven APCs were currently operational. Much of 3 Troop had spent the day on track repairs; only seven of his 13 carriers had been brought to a serviceable state due to lack of track parts.63 Hagerty provided Roberts with three additional APCs from 2 Troop; these were all missing their .50-calibre gun shields, but all ten had radios and functioning intercom systems. However, they were still three APCs short.

  All the carriers had previously been armed and fuelled, and Roberts and his troop set off for 6 RAR headquarters to confer with Townsend before picking up the men of A Company.64 Even so, this did not enable the infantry commander to allocate a platoon of infantry to a section of APCs, which would fragment his company command. Why another three APCs were not allocated to bring the squadron up to strength remains unknown – they certainly should have had enough carriers on hand. Indeed, at some point Hagerty went to the FSCC to request permission from Jackson that another troop be sent out to Long Tan in case the first troop of just ten APCs was ambushed. Jackson by then had left the FSCC and Hagerty found him sitting in his tent. When he requested that an additional troop be sent out, Jackson refused.65

  In the 6 RAR area of Nui Dat, Major Brian McFarlane and his men of C Company had long ago left the last concert on hearing that their mates from D Company were in trouble. Most were in their tents getting their gear together, expecting to be called to assist their brother company. As they packed, they listened in silence as the voices of the men from D Company came over their radio – the radio net had been jerry-rigged to speakers so the men did not have to sit with their ears glued to the handsets.66 The radio traffic indicated that these men were fighting for their lives just five kilometres away. Private Norm Wotherspoon was there and recalled: ‘I felt, “Shit, this is really bad,” because you couldn’t do anything and it was pissing with rain and it seemed to be all chaos. There was all this happening on the radio, but absolute silence in the tent. It was just the enormity of it all. I think we were all stunned that this huge attack should be happening so close, only a couple of miles away.’67 He was especially concerned as he had originally been assigned to D Company and had made some good mates there, but had later been transferred to C Company.

  The batteries continued their murderous fire and everyone could feel the shock waves from the shells as they passed directly overhead to slam into the rubber plantation of Long Tan and nearby hills of Nui Dat 2.68 As recalled by Major McFarlane:

  During the late afternoon I could only sit with my staff, dry and secure, and listen to the unfolding drama on the radio nets and the accompanying sounds of battle from across the valley of the flooded Suoi Da Bang. We listened with difficulty though. We were in a direct line between the guns and D Company. All the barrels of the four batteries were pointed in our direction and the rounds all going overhead. With the field artillery this was not so bad, but the 155mm US howitzers made a terrible blast when they fired and the giant rounds broke the sound barrier sending shock waves right through our bodies. Better than being out there at the other end.69

  Things were developing at an alarming rate. It had been only 50 minutes since the fighting at Long Tan had broken out.

  18

  ‘. . . the din of the engines and the noise of war’

  1700–1715 hours

  Flying above the exploding trees and the battle was 6 RAR intelligence officer Bryan Wickens, in the Sioux helicopter being piloted by Lieutenant Rob Rich. He was trying to contact D Company without success, a task made more difficult by the Viet Cong jamming communications – this confirmed that the enemy below included at least elements of a main force and not just the local D445 VC Battalion, as the local insurgents had demonstrated no expertise to date with such techniques.1

  Below in the plantation Major Smith radioed in at 5.01 p.m. ‘En [enemy] GR [Grid Reference] 487669 NORTH to 487672 penetrating both flanks and to NORTH and SOUTH’. This was followed by another message, at 5.02 p.m., that they were ‘running short of ammo require drop through trees 475674’. Smith stated that they would use red smoke to designate their position. He received word that 1 ATF had requested US air strikes with ‘napalm GR 487669 to 487672 [with] 1000lb’ bombs to take out the Viet Cong mortar positions – this was the area north, close to Nui Dat 2.At 5.06 p.m., Smith radioed in that he would ‘accept napalm within 100 metres’ of his own position. He would use red smoke to designate their position and the required target would be 200 metres north-east of red smoke.2

  The need for ammunition was now paramount. While the 60 rounds that each rifleman normally carried was sufficient for the contacts experienced so far, the current battle meant the men by necessity were expending their supply at a fast rate. The situation for 11 Platoon was especially desperate. Smith requested that the ammunition be dropped by helicopter about 400 metres behind CHQ. This position was behind a small knoll and would offer a better position for all-round defence, but he soon realised that many of the wounded could not be moved. They would have to stay put and make do with their current position, which did offer some protection because of a reverse slope away from the enemy.3

  Back at Nui Dat, Lieutenant Colonel Townsend had passed on Smith’s request for an ammunition drop to Brigadier Jackson. The brigadier turned to RAAF Group Captain Peter Raw and asked for helicopters to deliver the ammunition as requested, but Raw demurred. His orders were that his helicopters were not to operate in the immediate area when enemy resistance was present or expected. Undoubtedly the battle raging just 5 kilometres away would put his choppers in very real danger as they hovered above the battlefield at treetop level – to make matters worse, during a torrential downpour. They would be sitting ducks. Relations with the Air Force had always been strained, with previous complaints voiced by 1 ATF concerning a lack of support from 9 Squadron. Now Raw was voicing his concerns about losing his helicopters, stating that he would need to get approval from Canberra. Jackson, however, interrupted, telling the group captain in no uncertain terms: ‘Well, I’m about to lose a company. What the hell’s a few more choppers and a few more pilots?’4 In frustration, Jackson turned to the US Army aviation liaison officer, who told the Australian commander, ‘Well, Brigadier, I dare say my guys can help out’ and said the choppers would be at Nui Dat in 20 minutes.5

  Meanwhile, the two Australian helicopters that had brought the Australian entertainers to Nui Dat earlier that day were sitting a few hundred metres away. At some point during the debate, flight lieutenants Frank Riley and Bob Grandin had made an appearance at 1 ATF HQ on learning that an infantry company was in serious trouble. All they could hear was radio messages coming in from D Company requesting ammunition urgently.

  Raw explained to Riley that D Company was in trouble and needed ammunition but they could not go in because it was unsafe: the flying conditions were terrible, there were too many Viet Cong out there, the squadron’s helicopters were not support helicopters, and they were not designed for this type of operation. Riley wasn’t concerned about the reasons why they couldn’t do it and said, ‘Well, I don’t care. I’ll go!’6 He was commander of the aircraft in the field and had the right to make tactical decisions regarding his aircraft and crew.

  Jackson was relieved to ‘see some guts’ from an air-fo
rce officer and turned to Raw for his response. Raw, likely humiliated and embarrassed that US pilots were willing to support the Australian infantry while he was talking about contacting Canberra, ceded to Riley. The flight lieutenant would take responsibility for the helicopters and the mission. The two helicopters, commanded by flight lieutenants Riley and Cliff Dohle, would conduct an ammunition airdrop to assist the embattled infantry. Most, including Grandin, considered it a suicide mission, but all of the flight crews agreed to go.7

  Meanwhile three US F-4 Phantom fighters had taken off on their napalm bombing mission; they were soon over the target area. This meant that the artillery fire missions had to be called off while aircraft were in the immediate area – an anxious time for Smith and his men, as they were denied the critical support of the artillery and would have to deal with any human-wave attack using small-arms fire alone. Smith had earlier requested that the deadly incendiary fluid be dropped north-east of his position by an airborne fire controller in a light aircraft, who would identify their position by a red-smoke grenade. However, the fire controller was unable to see the red smoke defining 11 Platoon’s position because of the treetop cover and rain. Smith tried to radio the airborne spotter aircraft several times but was unable to make contact. He then radioed the Task Force base, knowing that he could not hold the Viet Cong off without the artillery support. He told BHQ to send the aircraft away as he needed the artillery fire back urgently.