The Battle of Long Tan
Page 21
By now the Anzac artillery had stopped firing, and some of the enemy troops took advantage of the momentary lull to press their advantage in numbers and push forward. Others could be seen collecting their dead and wounded from the battlefield. Sergeant Neil Rankin, who at the time was at CHQ’s position, recalled: ‘It was while we were waiting for the helicopter with the ammo that Jack [Kirby] and I noticed a constant flow of enemy moving to the road, carrying their dead and wounded. In a matter of about 15 minutes, about 100 metres away, I estimated at least 400 passed us.’4 Rankin also heard firing from another enemy assault against one of the platoons to his front and, given his men’s return fire, he knew they were making every shot count. It was here that privates Harry Esler and Doug Mitchell from 10 Platoon were positioned. Esler recalled making a bet with Mitchell: ‘“OK, you’re supposed to be a crash-hot shot . . . I’ll bet you a can of beer you can’t hit that bloke in the stomach.” He’d have a shot, then say to me, “A can of beer if you can hit him in the head . . .”’5
It wasn’t long before Esler took note of an individual 100 metres to his front.
There was this big fellow running around in a white dustcoat. He seemed taller than the rest, giving orders, shouting orders . . . Anyway, I had a few shots at him. I don’t know if he had on a bulletproof vest or if I’m a lousy shot, but I couldn’t get him. Corporal [George] Green in 11 Platoon [sic CHQ] said later that he got the bastard, but he was never found among the dead. I remember him as a big, tall bloke, and whether he was a medical officer or one of the big nobs, I don’t know.6
Meanwhile, Sergeant Major Kirby was collecting as much ammunition as he could. He approached Captain Morrie Stanley, asking, ‘Excuse me, sir, could I have your spare ammunition?’ Stanley recalled: ‘The way he did that was so typical of the man. Anyway, I told him to help himself from the small pack I had on my back, and he may have taken four M16 magazines, leaving me with the one on my rifle.’7 It was not only Stanley who gave away his ammunition, as recalled by Corporal Graham Smith, who was desperately focusing on keeping the critical communications open with the Task Force at Nui Dat and by this point had already given away ‘most of my ammunition and had it sent forward’.8
Flight lieutenants Riley and Grandin made radio contact with Major Harry Smith and called for the smoke grenade to be released. Within seconds, Grandin could see ‘orange smoke – it was supposed to be yellow’. Hearing this, Graham Smith yelled into the handset, ‘No! No! Wrong! Wrong!’ The helicopter broke contact, as it was feared that the enemy were listening to their communications and had thrown a decoy grenade to disrupt the ammunition resupply. Another grenade was thrown, this time red, and this time Grandin saw red smoke. D Company assured them that red was the correct colour. The red smoke was located very close to the ‘orange’ smoke. Later it was assessed that the orange smoke observed by Grandin was likely yellow, but the rain, and enemy mortar bomb bursts, dispersed it, making it appear orange.9 The logbook for 105 Battery records a radio communication stating ‘Just seen red smoke’ at 6.07 p.m.10
Grandin now called in flight lieutenants Dohle and Lane, guiding them to D Company’s position. He quickly saw their helicopter with the red light on the top and directed them to the position, giving them left and right steering directions at treetop level, and as they approached ‘we told them to break and they rolled onto their side over the position, all of the ammunition being able to fall down into the company while they were turning already on their way back’.11 Major Owen O’Brien recalled that he and Warrant Officer George Chinn could clearly see members of D Company below as their helicopter came in at treetop height to make the drop. Although they could see no Viet Cong, they did see ‘tracer rounds arcing into the air from unfriendly weapons some distance away’.12
O’Brien and Chinn, located behind the pilots, assisted by kicking the boxes out of the helicopter, ‘right into the CSM’s lap’, as recalled by Major Smith. As soon as the ammunition had been dropped, both pilots noticed the helicopter lightening as the boxes crashed through the canopy to the ground below. The helicopter quickly disappeared as it flew west. Now Riley and Grandin ‘dived from the height that we were sitting on up above and did a steep turn, which allowed us to push all the ammunition out . . . and headed off back to the Task Force’.13 Graham Smith was talking to the pilots and recalled how the helicopters were hovering above them when the ‘ammo came crashing through the trees . . . and I said, “You bloody beauty! Right on target!”. . . and that chopper moved off and then another came in and the stuff just screamed through and they didn’t even stop – they just banked and tipped it [out] . . . Lucky there was no one under it.’14 Major Smith later commented that his radio operator was way in front of him in getting his radio tuned into the ‘Albatross’ helicopter VHF radio net and directing the choppers in: ‘He did a great job that day.’15
Within minutes the Anzac artillery began to fire again. Remarkably, while most expected this to be a near-suicide mission, the enemy apparently were completely oblivious to the helicopters: they received no enemy fire. The battle raging on the ground and the pouring rain seemingly made them invisible to the enemy below. Grandin recalled that on landing, ‘Frank [Riley] was quite high, he really felt it was the right thing to do and nothing was going to happen in these sorts of things. We then sat around trying to keep tabs on how things were going.’16 This skilful and daring feat by the RAAF pilots marked the beginning of improved relations between the army and air force and a new era of inter-service cooperation and understanding.17
Later the commanding officer asked why a company commander and the regimental sergeant major had gone on a dodgy resupply mission instead of staying at Nui Dat doing what they were paid for. They could only say it seemed like a good idea at the time, and the commanding officer said, ‘Bloody silly thing to do, but well done.’18
Kirby, Rankin and others immediately set to work opening the boxes and supplying ammunition to the men holding the fragile perimeter. Rankin recalled that the helicopters ‘arrived through thick rain and threw out the ammunition boxes wrapped in blankets for our wounded. The blankets were given to [Corporal] Phil Dobson, the company medic, who [with Lance Corporal Geordie Richardson] was trying to attend to a hell of a lot of wounded at this stage. We attempted to break open the boxes, as they were still banded. We hacked away with entrenching tools and anything we had, cursing the incompetent pricks in Task Force who didn’t have the sense to see we were desperate and may not have had the time for this. Luckily at this point we did have the time, although only just.’19
Lieutenant Geoff Kendall remembered the boxes apparently being kicked out of the helicopter and Kirby running around with bandoliers over his shoulder throwing them out to the men as he made his way around the defence perimeter.20 He also recalled that distributing the ammunition was particularly dangerous, as at this point, even though there was a distinct lull in the battle, ‘there was still enemy moving in the general area, but too far away to engage. You couldn’t see them all the time . . . It was dangerous business distributing the ammunition but the CSM [Kirby] took care of it.’21 The belts for the machine guns had already been loaded with ammunition, but the rifle ammunition came in bandoliers and had to be loaded into 20-round magazines. The men had to try to keep them dry and clean while they were lying in the rain and mud.22
It was then that wounded CHQ radio operator Lance Corporal Dennis Spencer at the company aid post saw the first of the survivors from 11 Platoon coming in with some from 12 Platoon. Among them was Corporal John Robbins. Spencer asked where the rest of the platoon was, and Robbins just looked at him and said they were dead; the ones here were all that were left. That really shook Spencer up, as ‘they were all blokes I knew well. I was stunned. I started to ask names and said, “Where’s Kenny Gant? Where’s Kenny [Glenn] Drabble?” and he said, “They’re gone, mate, that’s it.”’23 Robbins recalled on reaching CHQ ‘such a sense of relief for me. And Jack Kirby got all of the wounded into one area
. I was walking around. I thought, Shit, I’m pleased to be here, and the next thing – bang! – he crash-tackled me, knocked me arse over head, and said, “You get down, you stupid bastard! Get down!”’24 Private David Beahan of 12 Platoon also recalled that ‘Kirby, a big man and an easy target, was dashing around picking up people and carrying them back . . . To see that man run here and run there was just unbelievable.’25 Private Len Vine of 10 Platoon also recalled seeing ‘Big’ Jack Kirby providing the men ammunition: he ‘exposed himself all the time, he should have got a VC . . . He was like our father, he was the head of the family.’26
Meanwhile, Corporal Graham Smith recalled seeing Buick leading the survivors of 11 Platoon who had made it to Lieutenant David Sabben’s platoon back into CHQ’s position.27 Kendall recalled Buick coming in. He asked him, ‘“Where’s Sharpie?” Buick said, “He’s been dead for a long time.” This was a bit of a shock because Gordon and I were pretty good friends.’28 He recalled with grief how ‘Sharpie’ ‘was my mate, the guy who had stopped a milk truck on Lutwyche Road at two in the morning and convinced the driver to back up to a lamppost so he could souvenir a construction sign that said “Delta”. The same guy that walked into the private bar at the Majestic and said, “I’m here for the photo” and souvenired the Penthouse Pet photo that graced our mess right through the Vietnam tour. I guess I knew that 11 Platoon had been in big trouble, but the extent of the trouble didn’t sink in until then.’29 Kendall also remembered the wounded being brought in being in a shocked and dazed condition – they moved through his position.
Those not wounded from 11 Platoon were positioned by Kirby to defend the rear of the position, facing west. Not long afterwards 12 Platoon came back, but Sergeant James Todd was missing and nobody knew where he was. The men of 12 Platoon moved through and were organised to help define a company all-round defensive position.30 Among those returning was Private Alan Parr, still carrying his ‘ratshit’ M60. He recalled that as he arrived at CHQ he came across Kirby, who was ‘directing traffic. I ran straight up to him and, showing him the M60, said, “Have a look at this, it’s fucked!” I threw the gun into the trees – I’ll never forget the look on his face. He realised how uptight I was, raced over and got me a rifle, and I was on my way to our new position.’31
Sabben came in just behind the last of his men and was instructed to position his platoon within the north-east part of the perimeter. It was around 6.10 p.m. Parr recalled taking up a position with his mates of 7 Section, privates Noel Grimes and Neil Bextram, either side of him, with about the distance of a tree between them. Close by were Sabben and Corporal Laurie Drinkwater, and here they stayed for the remainder of the battle. At this point there was still a lull in the fighting, which Sabben recalled persisting for five to ten minutes. The Anzac artillery was still falling outside their perimeter and there was the odd Viet Cong mortar bomb exploding on the southern side.32 Kendall recalled that there ‘was certainly a lull in the battle for quite a while. We could see movement and the rain also eased a bit, which made it easier to see people moving. They were in range of maybe 200 metres, but you’re probably wasting a round if you fired at them . . . Certainly almost direct east of where I was there was a big body of blokes there. We had dropped our packs which we used during the first assault and we saw the enemy get into our packs. We fired a few rounds at them but whether we knocked them over it’s difficult to tell at that distance in the rain.’33
Meanwhile, M60 machine gunner Private Russ Perandis of CHQ had moved out to support Kendall’s platoon. He recounted ‘rain bouncing off the machine gun, hitting me in the face and eyes, making it hard to see. I had to keep my ammunition belt in a puddle of water to stop the mud getting into it.’34 With the arrival of 12 Platoon and the survivors of 11 Platoon, Major Smith was able to further consolidate his company’s defensive position. For the time being the enemy had broken contact as they did not follow up.35 Smith organised his three battered platoons for all-round defence. Undoubtedly they would soon be surrounded by a large enemy force – there was no way the Australians could withdraw with the wounded – they would fight it out here.
Unbeknown to Major Smith, the enemy force confronting him consisted of the Viet Cong 275 VC Regiment and D445 VC Battalion. Excluding casualties, they still numbered around 1700 troops (not including non-combat support elements). By now Smith probably had fewer than 70 effective men. The odds against them had increased to 25:1. Smith recalled:
It was [now] obvious that we were up against uniformed and well-equipped regular Main Force VC, rather than the black-pyjama-clad local force. I had no doubt we were in for a tough fight. I knew we could not withdraw and leave our casualties. That was not an option. So we were here to the end. I hoped that reinforcements would eventually get here, as the bottom line was that we were obviously outnumbered. But on the plus side, we had our company team spirit, we had the guts and will to survive, we had plenty of ammo, [and] we had the artillery . . . In the lull I was able to walk around often and coordinate the defence with platoon commanders and talk with some of my soldiers. I recall one of my soldiers, Shorty Brown I think, asking me, ‘Do you think we’ll get out of this, boss?’ I just knowingly winked back at him, confidently indicating I thought we would.36
Moments earlier, just a few hundred metres away, privates Allen May and Doug Fabian of 11 Platoon, who had taken shelter among the shattered remains of a rubber tree, saw the smoke grenade that had been thrown by CHQ for the ammunition resupply. May looked at Fabian and asked, ‘What do you reckon?’ Fabian replied, ‘Well, let’s go – because it’s no good staying here.’ The firing had died down at this stage so they were able to run straight in to CHQ. May recalled that he could not remember much after that – he was suffering from shock.37
It was only now that Lieutenant Adrian Roberts’ APC force was finally moving through the wire, out of Nui Dat and heading for Long Tan. They were soon skirting north-east of the destroyed village of Long Phuoc, with the rain pelting down. Roberts was sitting on a plank across the open hatch so he could see above the machine-gun shield and recalled that the rain was ‘absolutely blinding’.38 The force was moving in column formation and began their ascent to the Suoi Da Bang. Given the heavy rain, the stream was swollen more than usual, with the current running at between 6 and 7 knots. The carriers could manage only half that speed in water. Things were even worse for the carriers of 3 Troop, as their pivot-steer systems were worn out, making it difficult to steer the carriers when afloat. This was weighing on Roberts’ mind, as just a few weeks earlier, as part of Operation Hobart, 1 APC Squadron had been sent out to support 6 RAR but could not negotiate the same stream and had to return to base having failed to accomplish its objective.39 Come what may he knew he had to get his carriers and infantry across the swollen river. Roberts was sure that they would come under mortar fire before making it to the stream – the VC likely had observers positioned along the high ground east of the stream – but no such fire eventuated. It was possible that the rain hid them from view. To help further hide their presence, the APCs advanced towards the stream with their lights off.40
Back at the Task Force base, Brigadier David Jackson ordered 6 RAR’s C Company to be prepared to move out at first light via helicopter. He also ordered 5 RAR, which had returned from Operation Holsworthy, to take over the security of the base and place a company on one hour’s standby to be ready to reinforce 6 RAR if required; D Company, 5 RAR was nominated.41
Major Smith’s position in the rubber plantation was defined by the gentle reverse slope away from the enemy’s front. A smooth crest was present about 50 metres to their front. About 1000 metres north-east was the steep, jungle-covered, elongated hill of Nui Dat 2. Partly helping to screen their left flank here was an impenetrable wall of bamboo and scrub. The remainder of their perimeter, however, was open ground defined by rubber trees. Any northern approach to Smith’s position would channel the enemy into a narrow frontage because of Nui Dat 2 and the bamboo. Smith as
sessed that the most likely direction for a major assault would be directly east and south-east. He and Kirby had already placed the survivors of 11 Platoon to defend the north-western side of the perimeter, while 10 and 12 platoons were positioned to the southern and eastern approaches respectively. He placed CHQ with the wounded in the south-western part of the perimeter.
Sergeant Bob Buick recalled that 11 Platoon’s position was defined by a gentle slope away from the direction of the enemy assaults to the perimeter’s front. All the ‘small arms and green tracer fire arced harmlessly over our heads. After hitting trees some bullets deflected away, providing a deadly fireworks display. In our area you could walk around upright but everyone instinctively crouched and crawled. Some of the diggers jokingly said that they moved like that for days after the battle.’42 Private John Heslewood recalled that at this point it ‘was getting on dark . . . but it still wasn’t pitch black – you could see the shapes, and you could see faces, but it was getting darker.’43
Most of the machine guns had by now malfunctioned due to overheating and the thick mud getting into the mechanism. It was not only the machine guns that were jamming: Rankin had trouble with his weapon as he had to place each round ‘up the spout by using my finger, as the mud had started to seize the working parts and would not allow the breechblock slide to go forward enough’.44 However, machine gunner Perandis of CHQ was still able to operate his M60 and had been duelling with an enemy heavy machine gunner ‘using a .30 gun on wheels, which we later captured. When it opened fire, I was behind a small rubber tree. I could see the red-and-green tracer coming. I didn’t know a person could move around so quickly on his stomach.’45