Last Man Out

by James E. Parker, Jr.

  The transport helicopters and their gunships came in low over the trees at first light and were on the ground at the staging area by 0530. The men were onboard within minutes, and the helicopters lifted off for the forward launch site, ten minutes’ flying time from Checkpoint Tom.

  Dunn went in the first chopper. I went in the last, after ensuring that no one had been left behind.

  When I arrived at the forward launch site about 0630, Panton had already set up the battalion CP near a tree on a berm at the side of the field. The field itself was a half-mile square. In one corner, two artillery batteries, a 105mm and a 155mm, had arrived, and the artillerymen were running around in organized chaos as they uncrated ammunition and prepared the guns for action. The thirty-one helicopters that had moved our battalion were in two files down the center of the field. The gunships, looking like a group of thugs, were off to the rear. All of the aircraft were in the process of shutting down. Most of the men from the battalion had disembarked and were lying around. Some of the pilots were walking around and talking to each other, while others remained sitting in their seats. The doors to the choppers were open.

  Panton had laid out a map on the ground under the tree. A round rock, representing the convoy, lay on top of An Loc. Clearly marked along the road to Minh Thanh were the checkpoints: John, Gordon, Hank, Dick, and Tom. If Crash was right, the attack would come near Checkpoint Tom. We had six radios set up around the map on the ground. Haldane stayed close to the division command net radio, but we were most interested in the radio monitoring the cavalry’s frequency.

  D hour of 0700 came and went. Finally, at 0710, Slippery Clunker Six broke static on the cav frequency and reported that the convoy was on its way—he was moving out. We recognized Slippery Clunker Six’s voice, which had the casual, reassuring tone of a friendly airline pilot.

  Colonel Lewane in the C&C confirmed. We knew from the briefing that Slippery Clunker Six would be leading the task force in his tank, followed by another tank, then two ACAVs filled with troops, and then another tank. The remaining elements of Troop C would be dispersed within the convoy. Troop B would bring up the rear behind a wrecker. Colonel Lewane soon reported that the entire convoy was on the road and moving.

  Shortly before Checkpoint Gordon, Slippery Clunker Six said he would begin to recon by fire as he went along. As he passed Gordon, he called out his position. We could hear the booming of a .50-caliber machine gun in the background.

  Panton moved his rock. We drank coffee and smoked—waiting and listening. Birds sang in the distance. Flies buzzed around. Time dragged. I reread letters from my parents and from some children at a Nebraska public school.

  Between Checkpoint Gordon and Hank was the first of the three areas from which Colonel Berry thought the Vietnamese might attack. Lewane reported that he saw people moving across the road around the bend from the lead tank. On the cavalry net we heard Slippery Clunker Six alert his troops and tell them to tighten their chin straps. Their Great Adventure might be coming up soon. He said he was going to recon ahead and told the ACAV behind him to follow. Everyone else was to hold back. Over the radio, we could still hear his .50-caliber machine gun firing. Then there was silence on the radios. All U.S. forces involved in the operation stood by and waited.

  Finally the Quarterhorse colonel came back on and said that the people he had seen must have been hunters or farmers. He found no one in the area. The convoy moved on.

  On the other side of Checkpoint Hank the road left the sparse prairie grass and entered a dense jungle forest. The convoy would travel under the canopy of the forest for more than two miles. It was the most dangerous area of the operation. If the convoy were attacked here, the closest place where reinforcements could land would be on either side of the forest.

  Slippery Clunker Six said, on the cavalry net, that he was going into the Enchanted Forest and God be with anyone who tried to stop him before he came out. Lewane told him to be careful, he’d see him on the other side.

  Ten minutes into the forest, Slippery Clunker Six reported, “There are some logs across the road three hundred meters to my front. Hold the convoy.”

  Panton asked Colonel Haldane if we should alert the men and possibly start the helicopters. The colonel said no, not yet.

  On the Quarterhorse radio frequency the cavalry platoon leader—several vehicles back from Slippery Clunker Six—said, “This could be a VC tax point. If it’s an ambush it’s not very subtle. I’m going to send a tank down with a blade on the front to act as a battering ram.” He told Slippery Clunker Six to move ahead and clear the road. He told one of the ACAVs to follow shooting.

  We waited, looking around at each other.

  Slippery Clunker Six came back on the radio and said, “We’re moving out again, the road’s clear. No Charlie, but we sure scared the hell out of some trees.”

  The sun was climbing in the morning sky and it began to get hot. Down by the artillery we could hear one of the NCOs in the fire direction center of the 155 battery yell an alert to the gunner. Apparently the convoy was coming into range of its guns. We saw a man climb over one of the traces to the gun and put his eye into a sight.

  Colonel Lewane said that the fast movers orbiting on standby were running out of fuel and would be replaced by new jets.

  Panton pointed out that the convoy had not received any sniper fire, which proved to him that something was planned. The VC operated all along the road. Unless they were told to keep down because a big attack was planned, they would have been sniping.

  The convoy approached Checkpoint Dick and the 105 battery in our area went on alert. The gunners turned the tube slowly as their fire direction center plotted the movement of the convoy.

  Haldane sent Dunn and me to tell all the company commanders to have their men take a piss and get ready. We walked down the line and spoke to each commander. Woolley was, as usual, full of good cheer. Our relationship had not changed since I had moved to battalion. He was a fine officer and a gentleman, and I did not try to become familiar. I would have followed him to hell.

  Dunn started back to the battalion group and I told him I’d be along soon. I walked over to my old platoon. Bratcher was sitting in a helicopter with his feet dangling over the side. Propped up on his radio, Spencer was lying on the ground close by. Lieutenant Trost had contracted dengue fever during the previous operation and was back at the division aid station. Bratcher was acting platoon leader.

  Beck came out of the crowd of men and stood beside me. I sat down next to Bratcher, who offered me a cigarette. Spencer stood up, and Manuel, Lyons, and King walked up to join Beck in a semicircle around us. Bratcher asked if I knew anything they didn’t about this upcoming operation. “Nope,” I said, “you know about as much as I do. But I know this—we got less than a couple of months to go in-country. You don’t have to be a hero to catch that plane out, just alive.”

  “Yeah,” Bratcher said, “we’ll be okay.”

  Returning to the battalion CP, I noticed on the map that Panton’s rock was near Checkpoint Tom. I looked back at the helicopters and saw that most of the pilots were in their seats. The gunships started up with their individual swooshes and whines.

  Slippery Clunker Six came on the air and said that across the field ahead was Tom, the intersection of the road, and a tree line. He was moving out front as point.

  Trees came down close to the road for about a half mile and then the road went through a marshy area and up a short incline. The road had been built up in the swampy area and had steep banks. Crash had a stick in his hand and tapped the map just beyond Tom.

  Slippery Clunker Six said that he was approaching Tom and was going to move ahead through the woods at a good pace.

  After telling Panton to motion for the helicopters to crank, Haldane stood on the berm and raised his hand—his signal to the company commanders to load.

  I picked up the satchel I was to carry for the colonel, then helped Crash put on his radio. The entire command group pa
cked up and started moving toward two helicopters near the front of the column. Haldane had insisted that he get on the ground as soon as possible to coordinate the counterambush. If an attack occurred now, we would be the first in. We would be going in on both sides of the incline near the marsh.

  Crash had the division radio. The RTO behind him had a radio on the Quarterhorse frequency, and as we walked to the helicopter we heard the Quarterhorse commander in the C&C saying that he spotted some people ahead of the convoy.

  Slippery Clunker Six, on his net, reported the same thing and said he was taking the people under fire.

  Then, suddenly from Capt. Steve Slottery, commander of Troop C in Task Force Dragoon, “We’re under attack! All around us! My lead tank’s hit. They’re all over us.…” In the background we heard catastrophic, violent firing and explosions.

  On the Air Force spotter aircraft frequency, a calmer, businesslike pilot’s voice said, “Bingo, Bingo, Lead 42 come down on my smoke.”

  The artillery at the end of the field began firing before we reached our helicopter. As I jumped on, it began to lift off. The gunships were already in the air and heading toward the convoy.

  The artillery behind us began to fire at a steady, deafening rate, the concussions pounding off our chests one after another. All around us helicopters were gaining altitude and heading toward the road. I was sitting beside the Air Force radio and tried to make out the indistinct messages between the spotter aircraft and the jets. From the radio to my left I could hear the sounds of battle on the Quarterhorse frequency above the noises of the helicopters, and the frantic messages among the cavalry leaders as they fought for their lives in the middle of the ambush.

  In the distance ahead of us, a jet streaked down from the heavens and, after it pulled up, a giant ball of fire flashed. Nearby, within seconds, another ball of fire appeared from an unseen jet.

  I caught myself whistling, looking ahead, tense. Faintly, from the distance, we began to hear explosions on the ground. The helicopters moved off the treetops and gained altitude so they could get a diving run down into the LZ. The higher they lifted, the more fires we saw in front of us. Off to the southeast I could barely make out the end of the convoy still out in the field. Some vehicles were ablaze.

  The road through the woods was clearly marked by the Air Force and artillery fire. Some gunships already on the scene came into sharp contrast as they streaked past burning napalm.

  Ahead, I saw the incline and the marshy area as the lead chopper landed in the clearing by the marsh. The lead vehicles of Task Force Dragoon were on the road to our left. Some were on fire. In the distance I could see flames from the snout of a Zippo spray the roadside with a hellish flame. In the jungle, napalm had burned long black splotches along the north side of the road. Some trees stood naked.

  Amid more explosions and more fireballs we began to hear the clatter and heavy thumping of machine guns. Tracers from some of the tanks were still streaking into the woods.

  Men from the lead choppers raced for the wood line. Several fell. People were moving about hurriedly on the road. It was hard to tell whose side they were on. For a fleeting second it appeared that most of them were Vietnamese running across the road from the south. We were landing in the middle of the battlefield.

  On the ground seconds later, I lay down until the helicopter lifted off, then moved under its skids to join the command group running through the waist-high grass for the trees. I could see the turret to the lead tank off to the side, near the marsh. It was at a crazy angle. The tracks on the tank were blown askew.

  Panton had a simple map of the area between Checkpoints Tom and Dick in his hand and was plotting the locations of the companies with a grease pencil. I walked past him and joined Dunn, who was staring into the woods.

  The area smelled like spent gunpowder and burnt wet weeds. Bushes were burning everywhere. Suddenly to our right, a Vietnamese got up and started running through the woods. By the time Bob and I got our rifles up, other men in the battalion had cut him down. He was dressed in olive-green fatigues but did not appear to have a weapon.

  Haldane came up behind us and told us to move out. Most of the battalion was on the ground. I took the point for the command group as we moved cautiously by the burned-out area on the tree line into dark jungle. We could see sunlight ahead where napalm had burned through the foliage, and I headed in that direction.

  Firing continued all around us. Occasionally a round zinged overhead. Slow-moving, heavily armed, prop-driven Skyraider aircraft came on station, and Haldane asked the company commanders to have each platoon throw smoke to identify their forward positions. He told them to hold up until we got a fix from the forward air controller (FAC).

  Company C was beside the road, Company B was beside them to our left, and Company A was to our right. The lead elements of Company B suddenly began firing. Grenades went off. The commander came on the radio and said they had run into Vietnamese.

  Some walking wounded from Company A had approached our group and were being treated by the head corpsman when the FAC came on the air and said that he had our smoke. We were even with the cav unit at the head of the convoy, more or less on line. He told us to hold up for five minutes while the Skyraiders worked the area in front of us. General DePuy came on and said four minutes—we had to move on.

  The ponderous Skyraiders came from behind us. Suddenly their firing drowned out everything else around us. Then, off in the distance, we heard other explosions and the ground shook.

  The Skyraiders’ fire cut down whole trees. One wave of two planes was followed by another wave and another.

  General DePuy was on the radio yelling for us to move out, mop up.

  Haldane passed the order.

  Another bomb went off somewhere in the distance and the ground shook again.

  Company B sent a gravely wounded man on a poncho stretcher to our area. Haldane told the two soldiers carrying the stretcher to stay with us, take point for the command group, and move out. We left the wounded man behind with the head medic. Haldane told the corpsman to make it to the road with his wounded when he got him patched up.

  Company C called in to report they were stepping over Vietnamese dead. Did Haldane want a body count? Haldane said he wanted the company to move ahead.

  About this time the two soldiers leading our group stopped in their tracks. Haldane asked loudly, over the din of noise around us, what the delay was about. I told him I’d check and I moved up by the men. They were looking down at a ravine that went straight across our front. It looked like a dried-up river. Beside us, Alpha Company came on the radio to report the ravine.

  Down in the bottom was a trail—a “superhighway” through the forest that the ambushers were certainly planning to use as an escape route away from the road. I sent the two men across. As they reached the bottom, an automatic weapon opened up from the left and the lead man recoiled from a hit, but he gathered himself, dived to the side, and hid behind a log.

  Company B soldiers were behind the Vietnamese gun. They threw grenades into the position and two Vietnamese soldiers were blown partially out. The other Bravo Company soldier in the ravine got across and up the other side. The command group followed. The remaining medic helped the first man up and treated his wound. Down the ravine, some of our soldiers were investigating the Vietnamese blown out of the machine gun position and yelled up to us that one of them was still alive. Haldane told them to take him to the road.

  Charlie Company continued to report that it was coming across a lot of bodies and taking some prisoners. Haldane told them also to move the POWs to the road.

  Firing picked up as we approached the heart of the ambush, where the bulk of the Vietnamese had been hiding as they waited to be used as porters to carry the supplies back to Cambodia. Rounds continued to zing over our heads.

  Alpha Company reported that it was wading through the carnage left by one of the Skyraiders that had hit a Vietnamese group broadside with its .50-calibe
r machine guns. I heard Duckett say that it was a Philadelphia mess. Spencer was on the air and said that Bratcher and my old platoon were coming across individuals and pairs of VC trying to make their way north away from the ambush.

  The small-arms fire subsided and two more men from Company B came our way with a soldier on a stretcher. Their charge—only a boy, a small, youngish eighteen—looked up at me and said he didn’t want to die.

  “Hell, man, I can’t see where you’re wounded,” I said.

  He pulled up his fatigue jacket, and I could see a small bullet hole near his navel. There wasn’t much blood outside, but it was clear that he had extensive internal bleeding. His skin was bloated around the bullet wound.

  Haldane walked up. The boy continued to say over and over again that he didn’t want to die. He was going into shock.

  “Gut shot,” I said to Haldane. “He’ll die unless we get him to a medic soon.”

  “We don’t have any,” Haldane said.

  I suggested that we could send the litter detail to the road, but Haldane said the men with the stretcher were needed where they were. He told me to get the man to the road, find a radio, and tell him what was happening out there.

  “Rog,” I said.

  Haldane directed the two Bravo Company men to return to their unit and told Dunn to move out on point. I stood beside the boy on the stretcher and watched the battalion group follow Dunn.

  Firing was picking up, some of it coming from our rear.

  At the end of the battalion group, an Air Force forward observer came along with his radio operator and another soldier who had fallen in with us. I reached out and grabbed the soldier as he walked by and called out to the Air Force officer.