Military Professional Reading discussion

Hi folks, We haven't had much discussion on combat operations, so I'd like to contribute what it was like to be under indirect fire during the siege of Khe Sanh in 1968. As you may remember, Khe Sanh Combat Base was located in northwest South Vietnam, west of Laos and south of the DMZ. During the Tet offensive of '68, the 26th Marines (rein), about 6,000 men (Marines, Army, Air Force) was surrounded by an estimated 20,000 North Vietnamese regulars.

At the time I served as a company commander (L 3/26) and assistant operations officer for 3/26. Lima was tasked to secure the northwest (Red) sector of the perimeter (adjacent to the FOB). The rest of the battalion's infantry companies were guarding the hills (881 South, 861).

In late January the NVA started shelling the base with rockets, mortars and heavy artillery (152s and 130s). Up to that time, we had not prepared for this and had mostly above ground bunkers and foxholes. After the shelling started we went underground fast. One day the battalion XO asked me to check out a 152 that hit the all-weather road running down the middle of the base. The damn crater was at least 6 feet deep and 5 or 6 feet across! After staring at the huge hole and measuring it against our entrenching tools (no engineer equipment), I went back and told the major that "We should surrender!" (Just kidding of course). From that day on the NVA shelled us day in and day out.

Khe Sanh at that time of the year was subject to heavy fog that lasted until late morning. The NVA did not shell during that time (probably their observers couldn't adjust fire) so all our creature comforts were performed...shit, shower and shave. Except there were no showers...and the firs event was done over a fifty-five gallon drum cut in half in the sanctuary of a plywood "shitter." We found out early to get it over quickly...getting caught with your pants around your ankles during a shelling is a life changing event.

My company's position on the perimeter allowed us to be relatively impact free of the heavy stuff...most of the artillery was directed against "downtown," the regimental CP and associated "stuff," including the helicopter revettments. That said, one day I was handing the ops officer a cup of "C" ration coffee in our battalion COC (underground pit with 5 feet of overhead cover (runway matting, crushed rock and sandbags) when the radio blared, "Arty, arty, arty, Co Roc Mountain, 220 degrees. I remember thinking, "Where is that son-of-a-bitch going to hit," when there was a massive explosion which temporarily knocked out the generator...lights went out and a pregnant pause while everyone (radio operations, watch standers) checked their limbs and rear end. Come to find out the bunker had taken a direct hit with a point detonating 130. Fortunately we had placed a two inch plywood board six feet over the roof. When the shell hit the plywood it set off the instantaneous fuze, exploding the round...yet it still took out about three feet of the roof. If we hadn't had the extra plywood, I wouldn't be boring you now.

Many more stories about the siege but I'll close for now to see if anyone is interested. Semper Fi, Dick

These stories are what I love hearing about. If it's alright with you could I share this with my Marines?

Dick, Definitely not bored and always interested. I read a long time ago. As an Air Force guy, my focus was on how airpower was employed there. Love to hear your opinion and stories on that aspect--or any other stories you care to share.

Maxx wrote: "These stories are what I love hearing about. If it's alright with you could I share this with my Marines?"

Maxx, Feel free to share. If you are interested in a personal account of combat, you might want to read my autobiography, Lima Six, A Marine Company Commander in Vietnam...and a novel I wrote about fighting the NVA in northern I Corps, Vietnam in 1967 titled, Echo Among Warriors (Amazon.com). Please excuse my shameless marketing. Keep your head down, Dick

Mike wrote: "Dick, Definitely not bored and always interested. I read a long time ago. As an Air Force guy, my focus was on how airpower was employe..."

Mike, Thanks for responding. I believe I can say unequivacably (sp) that air power won the battle. There was not a moment of the day that an aircraft was going in or pulling off the target. As you know, there was an average of nine Arc Light Stikes a day. The closest being 800 meters from the southeast side of the perimeter on a suspected NVA battalion.

The first day of the siege I watched a Skyraider go right into the target...never pulled out of the dive...target fixation or he took a hit. The next day and A-4 pulled out of a dive and I could hear the 12.7s following him. Seconds later the fighter-bomber pulled over the base and the pilot ejected, landing just outside the wire and was saved. The plane tilted left and plowed into the 1015 ridgeline.

You know that FACs directed hundreds and hundreds of strikes...I distinctly remember a good friend Bob Happy, call sign Southern Hotel come up on the air net and ask sarcastically, "Anybody ever see trees with wheels?" He put several strikes in. It was the NVA bringing up camouflaged anti-aircraft guns, ala Dien Bien Phu.

Semper Fi, Dick

Dick,

Please share any of your stories. I promise I won't be bored.

Dick you carry on mate no worries from my perspective, either for the sharing for people to read or if it is a good outlet for memories.

Good story, and happy to read more :)

Thanks for the encouragement troops. As I find time I will pen more. In the meantime, Semper Fi, dick

I just finished writing the grandson of a Marine who was killed in action while serving with me in September 1967 just below the DMZ. Sgt David Brown received the Navy Cross for heroic action during the horrendous fight against a regimental sized NVA unit. Sgt Brown represented the spirit and bravery of many Marines during that awful day and a half action. For those of us who survived, hardly a day goes by that we do not remember their sacrifice. Semper Fi, Dick Camp

Dick,
I am glad you can share your experiences. Sometimes I wish my Father was more open with his experiences. Though he did start sharing more when his sons went into the Army

As an oral history author I do quite a number of personal interviews...sometimes the subject is a good story teller, other times not. I have been disappointed to learn that a good subject had passed on without leaving anything about their experiences...what a shame. Keep trying, dick

Hey troopers, checking into the net with another vignette of my experience in Vietnam. I had just taken over the company (L 3/26) on a sweep in the hills west of the Khe Sanh Combat Base in early July 1967. One of my platoons came back from a patrol in in one of the small valleys in the area and reported seeing foot prints in the mud. I acknowledged the report and the next morning I decided to accompany the platoon (15-20 Marines) back into the jungle valley. We worked our way down an extremely steep sloop until we reached the floor, which had a small stream running through it. Really a beautifully scenic location but scary as hell because we were channelized by the steep sides...I kept thinking of what would happen if the NVA had a machine gun that could sweep the narrow valley. I was about six or seven back from the point (lead Marine) when I saw him stop and study something in the mud at a branch of the stream. I worked my way forward and saw an indentation that may have been a footprint. I motioned for him to take the left branch and, instead of resuming my place in the formation took a position as the third man back...no place for the company commander. I happened to look at the point just as he fell back against the side of bank, shouting "GOOKS, GOOKS!" and opening fire...full automatic. Before I could even react, the platoon sergeant blew by me with a hand grenade out, which he tossed into the mouth of a concealed NVA bunker on the side of the bank. The rest of the platoon charged ahead firing into a bunker complex the NVA had built under the jungle trees. Everything happened in the blink of an eye...shouting, firing, action...in a flurry of frenzied activity. Fortunately no one was home or we would have been hurt badly...the point walked right by the bunker and happened to look back, that's when he shouted Gooks and opened fire.

After working our way through the complex and finding no one home, we had an opportunity to study it. There was a cooking bunker that had three feet of overhead cover (logs and dirt)...enough to protect it from and 81mm mortar round. It had a narrow trench (8 inches wide and 6 inches deep), covered with sticks and leaves. A homemade bellows pumped the smoke from the cooking fire through the trench. The smoke was defused by the sticks and leaves so it could not be observed from the air. The other dozen or so bunkers also had at least three feet of overhead cover. the complex could hold at least a company of NVA.

There was a well defined trail that ran through the complex west toward Laos. Steps had been carved in the soil on the hills to make it easier to walk uphill. On one hilltop we found six 122mm rockets piled in a clump, waiting to be fired from crude homemade launchers. In another location we discovered an obvious first aid treatment center...bloody bandages and empty drug vials. I finally decided that discretion was the better part of valor and called a halt...at that point I wasn't sure if we were still under friendly artillery support.

We packed up and retraced our steps, after sending two of the rockets back and destroying the rest.

I learned several valuable lessons that day...and fortunately they didn't cost me anything. Semper Fi, Dick Camp

That's a great story Dick and thank you for taking the time to share it with the rest of us in the group, much appreciated.

Thanks Rick. I used the basic outline of the incident to write a scene in an E-Book novel I wrote titled, Echo Among Warriors." Lots of fun writing it because I didn't have to cite references and I could have fun with the characters, including a German Shepherd named Harry. Hope all is well "down under." Dick

Great story Dick

Thanks

I returned from R & R in Hawaii and ran into my artillery FO in Da Nang. He told me the battalion had moved from Camp Evans (named for a Marine in Lima Company that had been killed there) to Khe Sanh. I was elated at the time because the base was on the plateau where the weather was cool, without the heat and humidity of the lowlands. Little did I know that a month later we'd be up to our eyebrows in NVA shelling.

Speaking of shelling...it's terrifying!! No other way I can describe the feeling of being under artillery fire...every round feels like it's going to hit you right in the back...there was the "Khe Sanh two step," at the first sound of incoming...a mad dash for the nearest trench.

Our battalion manned the hill positions that were on the gun-target line of the NVA 130s in the Co Roc mountains of Laos. When they heard the round pass overhead (a pop), the radio operators would broadcast, "Arty, Arty, Arty, Co Roc Mountain and give an azimuth." Horns and sirens would go off all over the base...giving us a few valuable seconds to decide what to do...bend over and kiss your buns goodbye or hit the trenches.

As the round arched over to impact, it made a tearing sound...that's the noise that sent shivers up and down your spine.

One time near the DMZ, Lima was caught on the road and took 30 rounds of incoming artillery...absolutely terrifying!! No cover...my radio operators and I lay on the side of the road...the company lost several men. One of the casualties had his helmet split from concussion which split the skin of his scalp from ear to ear across the top of his head...blood everywhere (head wounds bleed badly) and he looked like he was going to die...two weeks later he was back with us...nice scare across the top of his head.

Keep your head down, Dick Camp

On the Military Channel's Ultimate Warfare series that is airing currently, they have an episode on Khe Sahn. I realize that it can't get to in depth in 60 min, but I thought it was interesting none the less.

I was aware of the program, although I haven't seen it. ArrowMedia, the company that produced the series asked me to appear in the Fallujah episode because of my book, Operation Phantom Fury about the battle. Interesting...and I met two of the Marine vets...great guys!

In any event, I didn't get to do the Khe Sanh episode, although I volunteered.

I returned to Vietnam in 1998 (Military Historical Tours) with several men from the old battalion, including one of my radiomen...and Gen. Carl Mundy, former Commandant and XO of the battalion. As you can imagine there were some emotional moments, particularly during our time at the combat base. Quite a lot of battlefield debris was there...the Vietnamese had put in a coffee plantation and disturbed the soil. "Stuff" came to the surface...boot soles, ordnance, remnants of uniforms, etc.

Semper Fi, Dick

Hi folks, I'm back in the game. I got caught in publisher deadlines which kept me busy. Since last I wrote, I have completed another fiction book (The Killing Ground, e-book listed on Amazon) and two non-fiction (Shadow Warriors, The Untold Stories of American Special Operations During World War II, Barnes and Noble/Amazon and Assault from the Sky, U.S Marine Helicopter Operations in Vietnam 1962-1975, due out in August). WHEW!! Hard to keep them all straight, particularly when the manuscripts came back to me for final editing. As usual the publisher wanted them back 10 minutes ago.

In any event, back to Vietnam 1967-1968. I received orders while stationed at the Marine Barracks in Wash. D.C., where I was serving as the Special Ceremonial Platoon Commander. It was great duty but physically demanding because of all the parades and ceremonies...back and knees, which still bother me.

I took my family to live with my wife's parents in Indianapolis (very tough leaving my five year old daughter) and caught a plane to Camp Pendleton, CA for a two week school on supporting arms...artillery and air support. After graduation, the class was flown to Okinawa for processing before the final flight to Vietnam.

We arrived at the big USMC air base at Da Nang. When we exited the air conditioned civilian airliner (no kidding stewardesses and all) into the Godawful heat and humidity of an Asian sun drenched afternoon...temperatures in the high 80s with humidity so thick you were breathing water. At the time we were wearing our heavily starched state-side utilities that immediately began shedding starch, which ran down our arms and legs...real comfortable! The group was ushered into a large sweltering tin clad building where we were separated according to our assigned unit. Mine happened to be 3rd Marine Division.

I reported to the division adjutant, a major. I gave him my name and before he could say anything, I told him I would like to be assigned to a rifle company in the 4th Marine Regiment. Now if you haven't ever reported to a Marine field grade officer, you've missed an exciting adventure. He looked at me like I was some sort of dumb shit and started to get that "who the hell do you think you are" look, when I quickly grovelled, saying, "It was my old unit," and "please don't bite my face off, Sir!" He relaxed somewhat, looked at a roster and told me there was nothing available. Before he could react, I quickly said that I would take any rifle company in the division...again "THE LOOK!"

I could see him thinking, "OK smart ass, I've got just the unit for you." He announced that he would give me orders to the 3rd Battalion, 26th Marines. They needed a company commander. I thanked him profusely and as I started to turn away, asked, "Company commander rotate?" "No," he said, "he was killed in action yesterday!"

"Oh shit," was all I could think, "what have I got myself into."

I will follow this posting with "the rest of the story" as time permits. Semper Fi, Dick Camp

Looking forward to the rest of the story Dick, thanks for posting the details so far. I've already got a copy of your latest book on order; Assault from the Sky

by Dick Camp

Rick, thanks for the encouragement and for ordering Assault. Supposedly it will "hit the street" in August, famous last publisher words. My best to you...and Semper Fi, Dick

I've added to the TBR Dick - I'll see if I can get the library to get it for me.

Damn Happy, buy the darn thing. Us starving authors need a few yen! Actually, I get most of my books at the library after discovering that Fredericksburg has this big building filled with books...and they let you read them for free...what a concept! Keep your head down, Dick

Grin

Mowing the lawn today in Fredericksburg's 90+ temperature and 200% humidity reminded me of my initial introduction to Vietnam.

After receiving orders to join 3rd Battalion, 26th Marines, I was shown a tent where I would be spending the night. It was located a short distance from the main runway, where we could hear the fighter-bombers taking off and landing. The heat and humidity was not only uncomfortable but down right intimidating! I sweated through my "state-side" utilities, causing the starch to run down my legs...hell'va feeling...and literally pool in my leather boots.

After chow...can't remember where or what I ate...so it could not have been memorable...although I do remember quite clearly there were two types of men hanging around the checking in and checking out facility...new guys and veterans waiting for a "freedom bird," as they called the plane going home. As an officer I was not subject to the usual "you'll be sorry" jabs, but I was close enough to get "collateral damage," and the old salts knew it!

The vets were easy to spot...deeply tanned face and arms, faded, bleached utilities, badly scuffed jungle boots and a cocky air that spoke volumes. "I've done my 13 months, now it's your turn." Those who had been at Khe Sanh had boots that had red clay embedded in the stitching and soles of their boots.

Trying to sleep in the GP tent's heat was next to impossible...even lying down and the sides rolled up, I sweated...and coupled with the layer of dust that covered everything and thoughts of home made for a very uncomfortable night.

Reveille arrived at sunup...and with it came transportation north because the 26th Marines was based at Phu Bai, a 30 minute or so helicopter ride, depending on what the aircraft was hauling. Sometimes there was a side trip to deliver supplies/personnel on the way.

But first came the "bag drag." We loaded aboard a 6 X 6 truck for the ride to the ride to the helicopter LZ. As usual we stood around and waited. As a bird came in the crew chief would yell out its destination and if that was where you were going, you climbed aboard. No manifest, just a dog tag to identify your remains if it went down.

I was somewhat concerned about flying into bad guy country because we hadn't been issued a weapon...that wouldn't come until we reached our destination...and that I'll come in the "rest of the story." Semper Fi,Dick

Richard wrote: "Damn Happy, buy the darn thing. Us starving authors need a few yen! Actually, I get most of my books at the library after discovering that Fredericksburg has this big building filled with books....."

:)

Great story Dick, thanks again for sharing.

Richard wrote: "Damn Happy, buy the darn thing. Us starving authors need a few yen! Actually, I get most of my books at the library after discovering that Fredericksburg has this big building filled with books....."

in my defense, I have two kids in college (starting in about 6 weeks) and have just taken a 20% paycut for 10 weeks (unless congress does something of course)

OMG!! Good luck...and keep hitting the library, which may have a copy of Lima 6: A Marine Company Commander in Vietnam 1967-1968. It is an account of my experiences as a company commander...enjoy...and I wouldn't bet on Congress. Dick

I'm not :(

Folks, when last I wrote, I was aboard an CH-34 helicopter on the way north for assignment to 3rd Battalion, 26th Marines. Needless to say I reached there safely, checked in with battalion, and was "officially" assigned as the Lima (L Company) company commander. At the time the battalion rear was located at Phu Bai, while the forward element was deployed to Khe Sanh. This weird setup was established because the infantry battalions were deployed so frequently in various locations that it would have impossible to keep moving the rear echelon--supplies and equipment not needed in the field--to keep up with the rifle companies.

After finding out where the company rear was located, I walked down to draw my 782 gear (pack, cartridge belt, first aid packet, helmet, flak jacket, etc) and a weapon (Model 1911A1 .45 caliber pistol). The rear echelon was housed in one Southeast Asia hut (plywood deck and sides with a tin roof built about four feet off the ground) and a large GP (general purpose) tent.

By the time I reached the area (less than 100 yards) the word of my assignment had already reached the supply clerks. As I walked into the supply tent, they were already standing by with my equipment (brand new stuff, never been issued) (Hey I can't blame them trying to impress the new boss), including jungle utilities and boots. The color had not faded like everyone else, so I stood out as the "new guy."

As I walked around introducing myself and looking into various bins, the tent flap was thrust aside and this "old guy" literally stormed in! He completely ignored me while he ranted and raved at the supply clerks. He didn't even look at me, although he knew I was an officer (I hadn't taken my bars off yet). After a few minutes he stormed out. "Who the hell was that," I asked. "Sir, the supply sergeant answered, "That's your First Sergeant!"

What a hell'va welcome to the company! I found out later that the First Sergeant was grieving for the former commander who had been killed in action a couple of days previously. The two had been together for over a year. Yes, he should not have acted out the way he did...but I didn't let it get to me. Not to leave anybody hanging...the First Sergeant and I became close and I thought of him as an excellent SNCO.

When next I write, I'll share my first experience in the field, Until then, Semper Fi, Lima 6

Thanks Dick for another great story, much appreciated.

Dear Friends, One of my first assignments as a company commander was to conduct a helicopter assault onto the ridge line north of the Khe Sanh Combat Base (KSCB). From its heights the North Vietnamese could literally see everything that was going on in the base. So, Lima Company got the head nod to check out the area.

The company, some 130 men lined up on Khe Sanh's runway early one morning waiting for the "birds." I had worked it out with battalion to hit the landing zone (LZ) with an artillery prep to "dust off" any NVA that might be lurking in the vicinity. So, right on schedule the bark of 105mm howitzers filled the air. Great, except the helos had not arrived and we were still sitting on the runway...not good. The plan was to hit the ridge with artillery just before we landed.

About half an hour after the artillery barrage stopped, the birds show up...two Ch-46 helicopters. Not good...this meant there would be several waves instead of one continuous landing. It would be a delay of several minutes between each wave.

In any event, "ours is not to reason why," we loaded the two birds...I believe with about 12 heavily loaded Marines on each...into the troop compartment...a real treat with its strong hydraulic stench (no fooling there was often drops falling from the overhead), no plexiglass in the portholes (punched out by the grunts accidently or on purpose (how else can you return fire), nylon troops seats, and two crewmen manning .50 caliber machine guns.

Off we flew, over the Rao Quan River trying to gain enough altitude to land us on the ridge. We reached altitude and bore in toward the LZ. As we got closer I noted there was no sign of the artillery prep and the zone was covered with elephant grass, forcing us to jump off the ramp...truly a "leap of faith!"...into the eight foot high grass. Not good,who knew what was lurking in the damn stuff...like maybe tree stumps (did you say speak with a high pitch voice) or rocks (break a leg perhaps).

In any event off we leaped and pushed through the grass and almost immediately discovered a trail that led along the top of the ridge. After several more lifts I ordered a halt, as there wasn't room for any more men.

We proceeded along the trail for some time until I called a halt...it's hotter then hell under the canopy...no breeze. One of my radio men squatted down and I noted dark blotches on his jungle trousers. I brought it to his attention..."John what the hell's that!"...and he dropped his trousers to discover his legs were covered with LEACHES! OMG the slimy creatures were sucking his blood...Imagine half a hundred combat hardened, heavily armed Marines suddenly dropping trousers...not a pretty sight...and finding the damn creatures happily enjoying lunch!

After burning the things off with cigarette lighters and insect repellant my merry band of fighters continued along the trail. The Marine in front of me suddenly stopped and pointed into the bamboo that rose over our heads. "Skipper," he asked innocently, "is that a snake?" A Bamboo Viper slithered three feet over our heads...OMG another creepy crawly..."Get the hell out of my way!and continued on, adding snakes to our repertoire of danger, just below an NVA ambush. Within a few yards the column stopped and I was suddenly called forward. "Now what I wondered." I found the point (first man in the column) sitting along the trail, white as a sheet and hyperventilating. Seems that as he cautiously made his way along the trail carefully surveying left and right and forward looking for danger (remember his rear end is on the line), a rock ape swung past him on a vine, scaring him half to death...OMG what next.

At that point it was time to stop for the night. We set up machine guns at the front and rear of the column to guard the narrow ridge trail. The night passed uneventfully. Dawn came and along with it the plaintive call for my presence down the trail. Three men hovered over a Marine who was gagging, frantically trying to clear his throat. As I watched, the Corpsman reached into the troopers mouth with his grimy fingers and scooped out...you guessed it, a LEACH! The damn thing had dropped off a branch into his open mouth and attached itself to his cheek. OMG, Mother Nature was against us.

By this time I believed we had accomplished our mission and requested evacuation. At this point we would have relished a firefight...we knew how to deal with that.

Semper Fi, Lima 6

If you like this, you might be interested in reading the full account of my experiences as a company commander...the book is titled, "Lima 6, A Marine Company Commander in Vietnam." (What did you expect, "What I did on my Vietnam summer vacation.") Don't blame me for losing Vietnam, we were winning when I left! Keep your head down, Dick

Good story - Dick

Thanks. I really enjoy reading your accounts

Your stories are fascinating, Dick. Just picked up and then will probably have to pick up Lima 6.

Happy, Jerome, Mike, Thanks for the encouragement. It's nice to know that someone's "out there." Mike, I hope you will change "probably" to "buy." I'm just a little olde country boy trying to make his way in the big city. Semper Fi, Lime 6

Flashes

Friends, this afternoon I was working out when Peter, Paul and Mary's, "Leaving on a Jet Plane" came across the loudspeakers. I could not help smiling...it was the Vietnam theme song! For a few moments I flashed back to a Seabee rock crusher just south of Hue City that Lima Company defended in September 1967. The position was located against a hill that had been carved out to furnish rock for road building. To get to it one had to cross a pontoon bridge...which was also my responsibility to guard...with one platoon, thus splitting the company.

The tiny main camp contained the Seabee living quarters, a southeast hut for the Marines and several sandbagged bunkers scattered around the perimeter. A high pinnacle jutted out from the east side of the lines, making it very difficult to defend.

In any event, the Seabees were wonderful hosts, who went out of their way to make us feel at home. They even wired the bunkers for electricity...a no, no, as far as I was concerned and I did my best to keep the troops from cumshawing light bulbs.

It wasn't long before tape players showed up...where the hell did they come from, I'll never know, since we only had what we carried in our packs.

I can distinctly remember walking across the perimeter just before dark and hearing, "Leaving on a Jet Plane," wafting across the perimeter. Its words promised "light at the end of the tunnel" far more than politicians could ever pronounce. The words and melody were haunting to say the least. Despite the group's anti-war theme, I was hooked...and became a follower.

In 1976, I was fortunate to meet Mary Travers in a small bar in Newport where I was attending the Naval War College. Later I shared an elevator ride with her and I was able to tell her how much that song meant to us.

Flashes of some long forgotten sound, smell, noise still jog my memory after almost 50 years. Semper Fi, Lima 6.

Nice story Richard, did Mary Travers give you any reaction to that of your experience of the song whilst serving on operations?

Geevee, I caught her by surprise in the elevator and all she said was, "Thanks for the compliment." Years later I attended an Ohio School Board convention in columbus. The headliners happened to be Glen Yarrow and his daughter. Afterward they stayed around to meet and greet. I shot the bull with him for several minutes...nice guy, liberal, but a nice guy. Semper Fi, Dick

Flashes

Some years ago I attended an outdoor flea market (at the time I was a big collector of military artifacts). It was a beautiful fall day and I was focusing on the dealer's booths that lined the fairway. I passed close to one of the tents and happened to hit the guy wire with my leg...and instantly froze! "Trip wire," flashed through my mind! Fortunately the people around me didn't notice the look on my face...I believe I went pale. After a long moment I realized that I had stumbled over a guy wire and not a trip wire for a booby trap. Funny how a simple thing like that will cause a flash back. Semper Fi, Lima 6

That reminds me of something that happened with my father shortly after he got home from Viet Nam

We were driving on the freeway heading for his next assignment and a truck next to us backfired. I can remember trying to get under the steering wheel. He pulled over and he was white and shaking. He had my mother drive for a while until he got his composure back.

Two of us were driving back from Norfolk when the same thing happened...my buddy was driving and almost took us into the ditch. We had a good laugh afterward...nice to know that our reactions were still good! Dick

The book is an excellent commentary on Khe Sanh...You might also want to read Eric Hammel's Siege in the Clouds, which is an oral history of the battle. Some years ago I went back to Vietnam with several members of 3/26 as part of a tour group. The group included Gen Carl Mundy (Bn XO), Col Tom Early (Bn Comm O) and his son and one of my radio operators, (Cpl Ken Sandall), now a lawyer in CA.

It was a great experience...mostly touristy things...but as you can well imagine there were some emotional moments, which I will write about in subsequent postings.

Right now dinner beckons...Semper Fi, Lima 6

Fellows, My latest book, Assault from the Sky, U.S. Marine Corps Helicopter Operations in Vietnam, was just released by Casemate publishing company. It just hit the book stores and is listed on Amazon. I have shamelessly attached the first book review for your reading pleasure. Semper Fi, Lima 6.

Prem Rao Authors, Books choppers, Dick Camp, US Marines, Vietnam War Leave a comment
I didn’t grow up in the US of those times, not did I grow up in North or South Vietnam. I grew up in the relative shelter of Madras in the South of India but as a kid I was fascinated by the Vietnam War. Looking back at those times, some four decades later, I think some of the visual images stayed in my mind, thanks to the pictures in “Life” magazine which we looked forward to most eagerly.
In this context, I was thrilled to recently read, “Assault from The Sky” by Dick Camp. The byline says, “US Marine Corps Helicopter Operations in Viet Nam.” This book was recently published in the US and Great Britain by Casemate Publishers. Dick Camp himself is a war Veteran who won the Purple Heart and served 26 years in the U.S. Marine Corps before retiring as a Colonel in 1988. Camp writes, “I wrote Assault from the Sky as a tribute to the U.S. Marine Corps helicopter aircrews that performed so heroically during the Vietnam War. Their bravery and intrepidity throughout a decade of war set new standards of the Marine Corps motto Semper Fi, Always Faithful.”
Two images involving choppers in Viet Nam endure in my mind to this day. The first was of an air operation in a chopper code-named ”Yankee Papa”13″, as seen through the eyes of Lance Corporal James Farley of the Marine Corps. This photo feature by Larry Burrows appeared in 1965. The second was the powerful image of the evacuation of Saigon at the end of the war. Many of us grew up believing that picture was of the US Embassy in Saigon. It was on reading this book that I came to know that the most publicized photo was the evacuation from the roof top of a complex where the CIA officials stayed and was not of the US Embassy.
Camp’s comprehensive book describes U.S. Marine Corps helicopter operations, including their actions and evolution, throughout the Vietnam War. The book is divided into parts spanning the three stages of the Corps’ combat deployment: “Buildup (1962-1966),” “Heavy Combat (1967-1969),” and “The Bitter End (1975).” Each part includes chapters devoted to “telling the story” of Marine helicopters from the individual to the strategic level in what came to be known as the ”first helicopter war,” for the US.
The book is replete with stories of brave men who often laid down their lives to fight for their country in an intensely strange and hostile environment for them. Citations from the awards given illustrate the bravery of these men, explaining what they did, often at great risk to themselves. Starting from 1962 when the first US Marine choppers flew over Vietnam led by Lt Col Archie J. Clapp taking off from the USS Princeton’s flight deck on April 15, 1962, Camp writes of all the major engagements closing with Ambassador Martin at last leaving the US Embassy in Saigon in April 1975.
This eminently readable book has many pictures to bring alive the stories of heroism displayed by the chopper pilots. It was only on reading this book and the exploits of the chopper pilots that I was fully able to appreciate what Harry Reasoner said in the Evening News in February 1971 :” The thing is, helicopters are different from planes. An airplane by its nature wants to fly and if not interfered with too strongly by unusual events or by a deliberately incompetent pilot, it will fly. A helicopter does not want to fly. It is maintained in the air by a variety of forces and controls, working in opposition to each other; and if there is any disturbance in the delicate balance, the helicopter stops flying immediately and disastrously. There is no such thing as a gliding helicopter. This is why being a helicopter pilot is so different from being an airplane pilot; and why, in generality, airplane pilots are open, clear-eyed, buoyant extroverts and helicopter pilots are brooders, introspective anticipators of trouble. They know if anything bad has not happened it is about to.”
This understanding and the stories in Camp’s book places new meaning on the heroism shown by the US Marine chopper pilots all through a tough and relentlessly demanding war which stretched for over a decade.

Sounds great Dick, I have a copy on order so hopefully it should be on its way to Australia as I type!

Great Rick! I hope you enjoy it enough to pen a review...but only if you write a good one!! Just kidding of course. I don't know if I told you that Australian advisers were located in a small ARVN compound just across the river from a SeaBee rock crusher my company was guarding. Great guys, who always had a cold brew handy. I got a kick out of the jeep they drove...it had a bullet hole through the driver's side windshield...every time I asked them about it, all they did was laugh...they thought the hole was a great conversation piece. Semper Fi, Dick

I'm glad you met some Australians over there, we do like a cold beer! I will let you know when my copy of your book arrives.