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LZ Carentan slipped away below us and I
watched with a disconnected calm as it grew smaller and finally disappeared.
Carentan had been a village once, now abandoned it was our first combat staging
area where all elements of the 11th LIB gathered before spreading out
all over Quang
Ngai
Province
Jim
and I left our gear in our FLA
It was decided that we should first erect the tent
that would be our living quarters and let the organization of supplies wait
until we were finished. Not having been tested by fire, we were having a good
time laughing and joking while struggling with the construction of our new home.
Our buoyant mood was more conducive to a weekend camping trip than a combat
encampment.
Deuce-and-a-halves filled with troops, and jeeps
with officers continued to roll in throughout the day; sending billowing clouds
of dust that covered our sweat drenched bodies with a fine red powder. We were
having one hell of a good time.
Once the tent was up and our cots were in place,
we headed for the aid station and began the task of organizing our supplies and
establishing an operational medical facility.
We worked the rest of the evening and well into the night, and once
everything was in place we retreated to our new home, talked for a while, and
exhausted, drifted off to sleep.
The following two days, December 21st
and 22nd , were spent filling sandbags and stacking them four feet
high and two layers deep around the aid station and our quarters; blast walls to
protect us from shrapnel and bullets.
While we labored away, Santa flew in on a Huey dressed in jungle fatigues; white
beard and red cap, and handed out candy filled mesh Christmas stockings to each
of us. It was surreal at best and left us all with thoughts of home and
family.
Two of our medics had been picked to join one of
the line companies on a local patrol early on the 22nd while the rest
of us busied ourselves around the area and making rounds around the perimeter.
All was relatively quiet those first days, of course there was the constant buzz
of Hueys and the distant thunder of artillery and muffled reports of a distant
firefight could be heard now and then. So far the war hadn’t introduced
itself.
In the evening of December 22nd, sometime after
dinner, a few of us wandered off to an isolated rise that put us slightly above
our bivouac area and offered a clear view of the countryside.
It was easy to forget where we were. To our front,
a large treeless hill rose in the near distance, and to the left, the rice
paddies and open fields made a gentle incline towards a tree line, and beyond
that, the mountains.
A joint appeared, was lit and passed around. A
couple of Camel cigarettes were lit also and kept at the ready. We sat quietly,
sucked in the harsh smoke and waited for the magical weed to entertain our
brains.
A sudden muted burst to our left turned our heads
in unison. Beyond the open fields, maybe three klicks away, a steady stream of
tracers caught our eye. Two choppers were circling over a clearing and hurtling
their hot death to the ground. Bright flashes of light followed seconds later by
the booming report of explosive ordinance were turned into merriment by the
cannabis frolicking in our heads. We were watching the war, in awe and
completely indifferent to the mayhem taking place.
We heard someone approaching and quickly snuffed
the weed and grabbed our Camels. PSGT Williams walked up, gazed back toward the
clearing and turned again toward us. “You boys should get back to your units…”
and with a knowing tone added… “Be careful.” That was all he said, turned and
left.
Later in that early star filled morning of the twenty-third, the beast came to
pay us a visit. Charlie decided to test our mettle and hit the perimeter hard.
The sudden and ferocious rattle of gunfire and ground shaking explosions woke us
abruptly from our sleep and thrust us into the reality of war. Someone, I think
Grant, ran into the tent and called for medics. There were wounded on the
perimeter and they needed
FLA
I jumped up and grabbed my boots from under
my cot, slipped them on and stuffed the laces inside. No time to lace and tie.
The commotion in the dark tent sent us colliding into one another. I made it out
and ran to my FLA FLA
Tyo and I made our way slowly to the perimeter
where the fighting was in full fury, red night driving lights softly
illuminating the way. Stopped short of the wire by an anxious grunt, we grabbed
our aid bags and went the rest of the way on foot
My heart was pounding hard in my chest and in my
ears. Flares drifted crazily in the deep black sky, casting dizzying shadows on
the ill-defined landscape beyond the wire. The crackling chatter of gunfire and
violent roar of mortars and M-79 rounds grew louder as we made our way forward.
Red and green tracers streaked back and forth from all directions like so many
hurried fireflies. The tumbling buzz of hot, angry projectiles passed overhead
and beside us. A sudden quick clank
resounded behind us when a round hit an FLA.
Up to the wire and into the melee and confusion,
we found our wounded. Tyo disappeared further down the perimeter and I picked up
Godwin. Another grunt assisted me getting him into the
FLA
Dressing his wound, I asked what had happened.
Trembling, and with a stress filled voice he told his story.
He had gone out on a night training ambush led by
Sgt. Maddox and they stumbled into a VC unit making its way toward our
perimeter. A firefight erupted and Maddox went down. Godwin played dead as the
VC moved over them and fired AK rounds into their prone bodies. Godwin was
struck in the foot and continued to play dead while Charlie crawled over
him.
Godwin’s story was interrupted by the arrival of
the Huey and I helped him onto the Dust-Off chopper and watched as it
disappeared into the dark night. I made my way back to the perimeter and was
told that all the casualties had been removed. The battle had subsided, but I
was more than happy to head back to the aid station. The assault had been a
probe to test the units’ strength, abilities, and to identify weapon locations.
It was an explosive event that had come and gone like a sudden summer
thunderstorm. Perhaps the conflict we witnessed earlier had slowed this attack
down.
I walked into the aid station, and in the dim
light of lanterns, I saw several of our medics standing around a litter propped
up on two saw-horses. A body lay on the litter. I was waved over and asked to
join the group; our battalion doctor and company commander wanted us to see this
dead man. His fatigue shirt had been opened exposing his chest and his pants had
been removed. Edging closer, I saw that it was Maddox.
He had been shot several times and was covered in
blood. One round left a gaping wound to his left cheek and tore away a piece of
flesh, two rounds into his torso, and one into his thigh allowed the deep red of
his blood to seep from his lifeless body. We were silent as we looked at this
fallen man killed in combat. The
realization of where we were had suddenly made its presence known to
us.
Sgt Maddox joined our brigade while we were still
in Hawaii Vietnam
And now he lay dead on a bloody litter, surrounded
by army medics made to view his bullet ridden body. Sgt Maddox was the
battalion’s first KIA, just four days after arriving in-country and one day
after his twenty-fifth birthday.
It was unpleasant and unnerving to see this dead
soldier. Our hearts still pounding and our senses yet raw, we stared at this man
lying in a pool of his own blood. No amount of training prepared any of us for
this moment. We stood there in stunned silence for what seemed like a very long
time. This was not a movie or a field exercise, the man before us was dead and
he was not coming back.
We were dismissed after half of us were picked to
pull aid station duty while the rest of us went back to our tent. No one slept
that night. A few days later five of us were chosen to relocate to LZ
Sue.