by Albracht, William; Wolf, Marvin; Galloway, Joseph L. (FRW)
When he reached his thirties, Tex was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. I’m not a doctor, but my guess is that was the cause of his night blindness. Tex passed away from complications of the disease in October 1995. He was 47 years old.
Ron Ross
All these decades later, I had another thought about why Ron was sent to Kate: Of all the artillery lieutenants who served on Kate, only he had any experience crawling around a jungle. Ross was a graduate of the challenging and highly regarded US Army Jungle Warfare School in Panama, where he had been trained by Special Forces officers and noncoms. Could that be why he was sent to Kate? Had LTC Delaune, or someone on his staff, anticipated that, after what had happened at Firebase Helen, Kate’s artillerymen might have to walk out?
I’ll never know.
As a final indignity, Ross’s death was reported, unofficially, as that of “XO from Charlie Battery, 1/92 Artillery.” He was in that capacity for about twenty-four hours, as long as he was on Kate, but the man carried in that slot on the battery personnel roster was Mike Smith. Following custom, the 1/92d’s next firebase was established to honor a fallen officer. It was called Firebase Mike Smith.
Ross was posthumously promoted to captain, which had the effect of increasing, slightly, the death benefit paid to his survivors. More than forty years later, I learned that he had also been awarded the Silver Star.
This is the text of the narrative accompanying the award:
Award of the Silver Star
(POSTHUMOUS)
First Lieutenant Ross distinguished himself by extraordinary heroism in action on 29, 30, and 31 October, while serving as the officer-in-charge of a firing platoon with Battery C, 1/92d Field Artillery. Though assigned to Service Battery, 2nd Battalion, 22d Artillery, he volunteered to command a firing platoon when its platoon leader was wounded in action at Landing Zone Kate. The area came under a severe mortar and rocket attack. Lieutenant Ross, with complete disregard for his own safety, exposed himself to enemy fire in order to direct return fire on the enemy positions. On numerous occasions, he moved throughout the besieged firebase offering words of encouragement to the embattled troops manning the bunkers and artillery. In the early morning hours of 31 October, 1969, the firebase came under intense enemy fire. During this attack, Lieutenant Ross spotted a wounded member of the Vietnamese Security Force near the fire direction center. Ignoring a withering hail of hostile fire, he attempted to carry the man to the safety of a nearby bunker. Lieutenant Ross had nearly reached safety with the wounded soldier, when an exploding rocket mortally wounded him. Lieutenant Ross’s exceptional gallantry was in keeping with the highest traditions of the military service and reflects great credit upon himself, his unit, and the United States Army.
Reg Brockwell, who knew and liked Ross, was astonished by this award. “I talked to Tom Klein, who was the battery executive officer at Duc Lap, and a friend of Ross. Everybody had the same impression: that Ron was being punished [by Delaune], and when he was killed, [Delaune] felt guilty and posthumously promoted him to captain and awarded him one of two Silver Stars in the battalion. I don’t want to take anything away from Ron, but he didn’t do anything to merit a Silver Star.”
That medal was sent to his family. In 2012, as part of the research for this book, I learned that all of Ross’s medals, his military mementos, and his burial flag were lost in a house fire. Through the efforts of my good friend Ken Moffett, then serving as Congressman Bobby Schilling’s Veterans Affairs officer, a replacement medal was presented to Ron’s widow, Trisha, and son, John, along with a flag that had been flown over the Capitol in Washington.
Mike Smith
To this day, Smith regrets leaving Kate after being wounded. “It wasn’t like I was dying. I could’ve stayed. And that’s why I went back: I knew every guy there; I knew the firebase; I knew all sorts of things. But that’s hindsight.
“I’ve always considered writing to Ross’s folks, but I think that I’d just remind them of how stupid the whole thing was, how useless the war turned out to be.”
After escaping from Kate and enjoying a few days’ rest, Smith took charge of Firebase Mike Smith (see above), where a few weeks later he was reunited with John Kerr. He served on several other firebases before completing his combat tour. After promotion to captain, Smith was assigned to Fort Sill, Oklahoma, to teach artillery skills.
“I left the service in 1975, after eight years’ service,” he says. Returning to Colorado, he built a log cabin high in the Rockies. Then he went back to school, earning bachelor’s and master’s of science degrees in veterinary medicine, followed by a doctorate in education. He became a professor of anatomy and histology. Histology is the study of the microscopic anatomy of plant and animal cells and tissues.
“I taught in the veterinary school at Fort Collins for fourteen years,” he says. At age 43 he had heart surgery, and then retired. “In 1994, I found part-time professor work in the Caribbean, and have been teaching histology or anatomy in a veterinary or medical school ever since.”
The Smiths lived on St. Kitts for twelve years, Dominica for one, and at this writing are in Grenada for their third year. In 1994, Mike and Elizabeth lost their twenty-two-year-old son, Justin, in a car accident. Since 2000, they have been living on Justin’s Odyssey 3, a 47-foot sailboat. The Smiths spend their summers traveling and hanging out with their family in their small but comfortable Colorado cabin.
Bernie Tiranti
Following his honorable discharge, Tiranti returned to his home in Chicago. He died after a long struggle against cancer in May 1974, at age 25.
His story does not end there: Five years later, Bernie’s mother, Elvira Schmidt, filed suit in federal court on behalf of Bernie’s estate, joining with several other cancer-stricken Vietnam veterans and the estates of two others who had died from certain rare or unusual cancers. Named as defendants in what became a gigantic class-action suit were Dow Chemical, Inc., Hercules, Inc., Diamond Shamrock, Inc., Northwest Industries, Inc., Monsanto Co., and North American Phillips. All were associated with manufacturing or dispersing dioxin, the herbicide in Agent Orange.
This was America’s first successful environmental class-action suit, and resulted in a multibillion-dollar settlement that included a small sum for each of thousands of plaintiffs, plus reimbursement to the Veterans Administration and the Social Security Fund for costs incurred in treating Agent Orange victims, and funding for education and treatment. The settlement led Congress to pass a law that extended Veterans Administration medical and disability benefits to any service members who served in Vietnam if they suffered from any of a long list of medical conditions associated with Agent Orange.
Maurice Zollner
Zollner was awarded the Purple Heart for the facial wound he suffered on Kate, and the Bronze Star with “V” device for his service on the firebase and during our escape and evasion. I learned this only recently, and subsequently requested that this decoration be upgraded to the Silver Star. Zollner lives in a small Illinois city near St. Louis, Missouri.
• • •
AS for me, merely serving in the Mike Force was validation of all the training I had and the sacrifices that I had made since enlisting. Understand: Mobile Strike Force units, along with such special projects such as Special Operations Group, Delta Force, and so on, were the chosen few of America’s elite. It would require another book to fully explain the depth, scope, and missions of the II Corps Mike Force, or, as it was affectionately known, the Death Brigade.
I was wounded a second time in April 1970 while clearing bunkers during the Battle of Dak Seang. As it was getting dark, we arrived at our last bunker. I asked one of my Yards to do a low crawl and flank the bunker, get in close, and toss a grenade through the firing aperture. I still remember the look he gave me! I’ll never ask a man to do something I hadn’t done or wouldn’t do—so off I went. I approached the bunker from its east side and eased up to t
he firing port. At this point Charlie and I played blindman’s bluff. I threw a grenade inside, and he threw it back, but not close enough to hurt me. Then a ChiCom stick grenade came flying out. I was prone and too close to the grenade for comfort, but too far to throw it back. I had just started to roll away when it exploded. For a second or two I was Superman, flying through the air. It knocked the wind out of me, but the shrapnel wounds were not serious.
I remained with Mike Force until May, when I was hit again, this time by mortar shrapnel. There was then a theater-wide policy to the effect that anyone awarded a third Purple Heart could request immediate transfer to a Stateside duty assignment. I seem to remember that this was how a young naval type—a tall, skinny swift boat commander with a lot of hair and a Massachusetts accent—cut his combat tour to four months.
I was not ready to come out of the field. I was not ready to stop fighting. I was not ready to leave my men . . . but I would obey orders. When I was told to report to Nha Trang for a staff job, I was reminded, not for the first time, that soldiers are sometimes ordered to perform tasks they find distasteful.
To my mind, I served with the finest combat unit that America ever fielded. They were the best of the best, heroes every one. I tried to be the top soldier in every unit that I served in, but I never thought for a minute that I was the best of that bunch. Nevertheless, I completed every mission to the best of my ability. I was unhappy about coming out of the field, but after a period of reflection I decided that maybe it was time to cash in my chips and leave the casino with all my body parts. I thought it might be a good idea to take a little time to decompress before returning to the world of clean water, clean sheets, hot showers, and food eaten from plates. I believe in fate, but I also believe in the chain of command; I saw that they had conspired to take me out of harm’s way. I was 22, healthy, brimming with self-confidence, and there was a big, wide world waiting to be explored in the Land of the Big PX.
So I reported to my desk in Nha Trang. My war was over. Two months later, I flew home with a second Silver Star, five Bronze Stars (three for valor), two Air Medals (one for valor), the Vietnamese Cross of Gallantry with the rarely awarded silver star, a Green Weenie for valor, a Presidential Unit Citation, a bunch of campaign medals, and, of course, the three Purple Hearts.
From the day I enlisted, the only award that I truly coveted was the Combat Infantryman Badge, the instantly recognizable mark of a fighting soldier. The Army awards the CIB to infantrymen and Special Forces soldiers in the rank of colonel and below who personally fought in active ground combat while assigned to either an infantry, Ranger, or Special Forces unit of brigade size or smaller. I am grateful for my other decorations, but anything past my CIB was just gravy.
• • •
AFTER I left active duty, I returned to the Quad Cities and enrolled in Augustana College. I also took command of an Army Reserve company. In 1975, after earning a BA in business and sociology, I became a special agent of the US Secret Service. In a career spanning more than twenty-five years, I protected six presidents, their families, and a parade of visiting foreign heads of state. I also worked undercover on counterfeiting details and investigated criminal violations of Treasury laws.
Meanwhile, I married and started a family. That marriage ended in 1989, when my children, Nick, Clint, and Jenny were seven, eleven, and sixteen. I was awarded full custody, and we returned to the Quad City area, where I became resident agent in the Secret Service office there. Of all the things that I have accomplished, raising three children as a single parent to become healthy, morally upright, and productive citizens ranks at the top. In 1996, I met the lovely and talented Mary Moran in church; she has completed my life. We were married in 1999; together we have five children and seven grandchildren.
When my youngest child graduated from high school in 1999, Mary and I returned to the nation’s capital, where I served as assistant special-agent-in-charge of the Secret Service’s Washington, DC, office. Upon retiring from government service, I moved to Michigan to become manager of Ford Motor Company’s executive security operations.
We returned to the Quad Cities in 2005, and I launched my own security firm, which allows me to work as much and as often as I choose.
I soon became active in community and veterans organizations, as well as helping to found Veterans for the Constitution with Ken Moffett, a good friend, Vietnam veteran, and former law-enforcement officer. When Bobby Schilling, a local businessman, ran for Congress in 2010, our organization worked hard to raise money and support his ultimately successful campaign. Bobby then offered me the position of veterans affairs officer in his Quad Cities office. I declined and suggested Ken, who was in any case next on Bobby’s list. Then Bobby asked if there was anything that he could do for me.
There was: A couple of years earlier, I had been contacted by Reg Brockwell, who was researching the events that occurred on Firebase Kate so many years earlier. Brockwell encouraged me to write an account of my recollections. Seeking closure to the ordeal of Kate and the military decoration that had been promised but never received, I gave that incomplete but factual account to the man whom Bobby two years later would defeat at the polls, Congressman Phil Hare. Hare accomplished very little on my behalf.
So I told Bobby about Kate, and asked him to research the missing award and help me find closure. He gave that task to Ken, who took the ball and ran with it. Ran right out of the stadium: Over several months, he accumulated hundreds of documents, tracked down more than a dozen men who had served on Kate with me or in the skies above us, and asked them to provide statements regarding my actions. Presented with this package of information, Bobby decided to recommend me for the Medal of Honor.
Instead, in November 2012, the Department of the Army awarded me a Silver Star, my third, for my actions on Kate. This is the text of the award narrative:
Captain William L. Albracht
Fifth Special Forces Group (Airborne)
For Gallantry: In action from 28 October 1969 to 1 November 1969, during combat operations against an armed enemy of the United States, as Executive Officer of Detachment A-236, Company B, 5th Special Forces Group (Airborne), 1st Special Forces, while in the Republic of Vietnam. Captain Albracht’s calm and reassuring leadership as the Officer In Charge of Fire Support Base Kate enabled his forces to successfully withstand the initial waves of enemy attacks. The following day, with complete disregard for his own safety, Captain Albracht moved under intense enemy fire carrying a wounded Soldier to safety and directing incoming medevac helicopters. Despite his shrapnel wounds, Captain Albracht refused evacuation and continued to lead his Soldiers in fighting enemy forces and ultimately withdrawing from the base. Over the period of six hours, Captain Albracht and his Soldiers successfully evaded enemy forces while moving through the jungle under cover of darkness to meet United States forces at the rescue position. Captain Albracht’s bravery, self-sacrifice, and exceptional tactical skill enabled the defenders of Fire Support Base Kate to not only defend their position until the last possible moment, but also successfully escape prior to being overrun. Captain Albracht’s achievements are in keeping with the finest traditions of military service and reflect great credit upon himself, the 5th Special Forces Group (Airborne), and the United States Army.
This terse summary of five days of almost constant combat against overwhelming numbers of well-armed, courageous, and determined enemy troops, followed by a seemingly impossible escape through their lines, may seem to fall short of describing the scope and hazards described by the firsthand accounts of this book.
The men on Firebase Kate were thrust by circumstance into a life-or-death struggle. Volunteer or draftee, American or Montagnard, each man rose to confront every challenge, to overcome every obstacle before him, and did so in a selfless and courageous manner. The opportunity to lead such men under our nation’s flag was far more of an honor than any that this citizen soldier can imagine.
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APPENDIX
The Spooky Chronicles
Spooky aircraft were equipped with a tape recorder to record air-to-air and air-to-ground radio transmissions sent or received during a mission, as well as internal crew communications via intercom. The following transcript of recordings over and near Firebase Kate was provided by Major Al Dykes, USAF (Ret.), who served as Spooky 41’s navigator and mission commander. The original transcription was made by US Army Special Forces Lieutenant Colonel Hugh Pries (Ret.). For clarity and brevity, it has been severely redacted.
Dates of tapes: 31 Oct 69, 1 Nov 69, 2 Nov 69, and 30 Nov 69.
Location: FSB Kate (YU581548), Republic of Vietnam.
Transcriber’s Notes:
No effort was made to correlate time of transmissions with elapsed time on the recordings, nor to account for pauses between transmissions.
Although stations identified themselves phonetically in the audio, phonetic pronunciations were deleted.
Ellipses denote pauses or portions of the tape that were unintelligible.
When multiple stations transmitted simultaneously, only the first intelligible transmission was transcribed in its entirety.
Due to atmospheric conditions, individual personnel speech patterns, multiple simultaneous transmissions on the same frequency, or recording issues, some portions were unintelligible. This transcription was made from tapes recorded more than forty years earlier; portions have deteriorated into unintelligibility.
Conversations between the mission commander with other Spooky crew are indicated as PILOT or GUNNER or LOADER.
Station
Individual/Unit
