Monday, October 22, 2012

Odds and Ends

I thought it was about time to add some stuff I missed earlier in my posts.  Someone sent me an email and asked me what we carried in the field.  That's a good question because what my team carried on a hump was different in many respects from what the SOG teams carried.  Where the SF SOG guys would carry up to 90 pounds of gear, we carried 60 or 70 at most.  Thais were smaller people so they had to carry smaller loads. 

WWII BAR Cartridge belt and suspenders.
My Thais carried  AK-47s, smoke grenades, M-26 fragmentation grenades, and anywhere from 200 to 600 rounds of ammo each, depending on the length of the mission and where we were going.  Akkrat told me many times that they didn't need a lot of ammo because they could always pick it up off dead enemy soldiers.  The Thais carried some rice and dried meat, usually enough to get them by for three to five days.  They carried one or two canteens of water and some water purification tablets.  One of them carried my PRC-10 or 15 radio.  Another carried my GRC-109 HF radio and antenna system.  They did not carry sleeping bags, hammocks, or other bedding stuff. They also had, but did not carry very often, a poncho.  None wore metal helmets.  They, more often than not, dressed in NVA or Pathet Lao uniforms, because at a distance, they couldn't be identified as Thais.  They wore locally manufactured sandals and not combat boots.  The tracks they left were just like the ones the Pathet Lao would have left.  One of their mainstays were their knives and each one had two.  One was usually a stiletto of some kind and the other a locally manufactured very sharp knife heavy enough to  cut through most anything.  They also had machetes.  

Now for the stuff I carried.  First off was my Swedish SK or my FN-FAL Rifle.  I also occasionally carried an AK-47 but not normally.  I frankly didn't like it's feel, its accuracy, or its lack of long range impact.  I usually managed to carry 500 rounds of ammo for the SK, less for the larger FAL.  I wore a WWII and Korean War vintage BAR belt and suspenders.  The ammo pouches were really good for carrying ammo and other items.  I carried two canteens of water and water purification tablets.  I carried the same rations the Thais carried, but occasionally I would sneak in a can of fruit from some C rations.  I carried a compass around my neck and only a portion of the map I was given for the mission.  All that was necessary was the actual area we were going to operate in.  I carried anywhere from four to eight M-26 frags plus at least one white phosphorous grenade.   Two smoke canisters.   A UC-10 emergency radio and an extra battery was carried in my pack.  I did wear high top German made jump boots because I could tuck my pants legs into the tops of them to discourage the leeches from crawling up my leg. It rarely made any difference because the leeches seemed to always find a way to attach themselves to you.  I also had some kind of military insect repellent that you could spray the leeches with and make them fall off.  I learned early on that you didn't pull a leech off once it attached itself to you because you would bleed for an hour or more after doing it.  Once it attached itself, just let it feed and once it has it's meal, it will fall off on its own with a lot less blood loss.  I carried a camo towel that I put around my neck and tucked into my shirt for the same purpose; to keep the leeches off.  Believe me, no matter what you did, you were going to get leeches on you, especially during the rainy season.  I also used friction tape to close my cuffs on my sleeves that helped to keep leeches off your arms and upper torso.  It would have been great to have had some velco attachment tape but it wasn't invented at this time.

I carried a small flashlight and extra batteries.   I had a Beretta Model M1951 9MM automatic pistol and holster with six clips.  Either, I, or Akkrat, would sometimes carry a 22 caliber pistol with silencer for taking out guards and finishing off wounded enemy soldiers.  I carried a tube of waterproof matches, but I never lit a fire the whole time I was in and out of Laos...at least not on a hump.  I wore German military fatigues with no patches or identification at all.  Sometimes a bush jacket.  I had a set of green leather work gloves.  Sometimes I wore a bush hat, but mostly an old Marine Corps cover (it's a hat, but the Corps doesn't like it called that) . On occasion, when Bradley thought it would appropriate, I wore a  PL uniform. .  After all, I was tanned and only five foot seven inches tall.  Fit in real well with the Thais.  There was one thing I learned from the SF guys.  They told me not to wear socks or underwear.  We stayed wet all the time and because your underwear and socks would never dry out, you ended up with some kind of jungle rot that there was no cure for.   I learned that lesson a little late.  I still have a foot fungus that no doctor has been able to get rid of.  It's controllable, but if you forget to treat it every month, it comes back with a vengeance.  A Navy corpsman first aid bag was tied to the pack.  I carried a sweater because at the higher altitudes we operated in, it could get down right cold at night, especially after a rain.  You wouldn't think that would be the case in SE Asia, but it was.  I carried pen flairs and 25 feet of green parachute cord.  I also had my trusty K-Bar knife and a really sharp bayonet from an M-1 Carbine.  While the Thais carried machetes, I carried pilot's survival tool which I had been given by an Air America pilot.  Turns out, it was a very early model of the Frank and Warren Survival Axe.  It was really good at cutting through razor or elephant grass and sticky vines.  A picture of it is below.  It is not the same one I had but very close in appearance.  
Frank and Warren Survival Axe.







Something I didn't have originally, that the SF guys did, was Claymore mines.  At some point, Lt. Peterson gave me a dozen with some detonators and some 5, 10 and 30 second fuses and he had one of his guys show us how to use them.  They were devastating on enemy troops.  If the enemy was in pursuit of you, this was one really good option to slow them down.

ファイル:M18 Claymore Mine.jpg
Claymore Mine


Everything we carried had to be sound proofed.  You taped ever thing that could clank or clink against anything else,   We threw away the cup in the bottom of the canteen cover because the canteen rubbing against it would make noise that could be heard at quite some distance. We removed the canteen lid and cut the chain to eliminate another noise factor.  Anything that would reflect light was covered with tape.  I wore my watch upside down to prevent the radium numbers and hands from showing in the dark.  I carried my K-Bar knife taped to my suspenders upside down.  I did not carry a poncho or rain gear.  I mentioned the Thais didn't carry any either and there was a reason for that.  Rain, falling on a poncho makes a very audible noise in the jungle.  It's a different sound that any tracker would know wasn't natural.  It was a huge risk to wear one or to cover yourself with one when it was raining and if it wasn't raining you didn't need it anyway.
There were four priorities on a hump:  Weapons, ammunition, water and radios.  You could go with out food but to run out of ammo or have a radio fail was truly a bad thing.  Ammo and radios gave you a chance of surviving  enemy encounters.  You surrendered the creature comforts for more ammo, grenades and radio batteries in every case.

As to the SF guys, they carried a lot of ammo, grenades, claymore mines, C-4, radios, batteries, and their weapons.  They went light on creature comforts  as well.  They did carry C and K rations.  I never saw any MRE's so I don't know if they existed that early in the war, but they could have had them.  Sometimes they had a M-79 grenade launcher with ten or twelve rounds of ammunition.  They wore military uniforms but no rank or other identifying patches were on them.  They also packed a sweater or jacket for the cool temperatures at altitude in the mountains of Laos.  One SF guy on a team I worked with twice, carried a sawed off 12 gauge pump shotgun.  The SF guys probably had stuff I never saw and was never intended to see.  They all had a side arm of some kind, mostly Colt 1911 45 caliber automatics.  They also carried K-Bar knives.   So, that is how we were equipped.  I am sure I have missed something, but its been a long time since I had to carry that stuff into the field.  If I think of anything, I will add it later in an edit.

Another Point


There has been some controversy over whether or not I was a combat controller.  Some CCT's have said that since I didn't go through the Hurlburt pipeline, was not assigned a CCT MOS, or did the more conventional things that other CCT's did,  that I was not one of them.  Because I operated in a war that didn't exist, the records were scrubbed and that was what I was told would be the case.  That was reiterated in my first briefing with Col. Bradley.  These CCT;s attitude is that I was an air traffic controller working in a combat setting.  Others said that I was a tactical air/ground controller, more or less an SF guy or a Army Pathfinder, but in the U.S.Air Force.  One said that I was just an Air Force SOG Team member.  On the other hand, some CCT's  have said that they had heard of our operations, but didn't know who was doing them or what unit they were with.  To put the record straight as best I can, I was recruited to be a combat controller.  Because of the nature of where I was intended to be posted, in a war that didn't exist, Bailey and I were trained differently so that in effect we didn't exist.. There were two others being trained as well, but they came somewhat after Baily and me so I am not sure who they were or exactly where they went.  I was trained by, whom I was told at the time, were older seasoned combat controllers.  I knew them by their call signs and the word sergeant .Maybe they weren't.  They could have been CIA or Army Special Forces personnel for all I know.  Hell, I was eighteen years old when I started training for Laos and probably would have believed anything they said.  We were not trained at Hurlburt but rather at Webb AFB in Texas where they had a number of T-28's and some Laotian and Thai pilots who were being trained to fly them there.  That was not by accident that we were receiving our training at Webb.  I would be controlling these same pilots in Laos a year or so later.  The Laotians and Thais could speak passable English, but there were times when some language issues existed.  We tried to work those out in the training.  The same thing with Ft. Bragg.  We did most of our weapons, escape and evasion, and jump training with Special Forces Teams, especially the guys who would eventually make up some of the SOG teams.  They would be the guys who I would work with 90 percent of the time in Laos.  Since we trained some Hmong soldiers to be FAGs (Forward Air Guides), I suppose we could have been that as well.  If I wasn't a combat controller, I have no idea as to what I should be called.  Maybe the title tactical air/ground controller is more suited to what I actually did.  But, it doesn't bother me either way.  I did what I did thinking I was a combat controller.  If I wasn't, then, so be it. Whatever you called what I did, it was pretty darn dangerous. 

File:Webb AFB Postcard - Main Gate.jpg
Main Gate Webb AFB  About 1962 or So.

I do know that later on, the SF guys actually called in their own air strikes and carried out their extractions with American Armed Forces personnel rather than how we had to do it using Air America.  I did a little research and they had what they called Covey Riders who rode with the FAC's and directed aircraft to targets.  They also were able to keep FAC's (Forward Air Controllers) orbiting overhead directing air strikes against enemy positions for long periods of time.   We had no so availability.  Just the Lao Air Force of a few planes and Air America's helicopters and fixed wing STOL aircraft.  I can only remember one time that I was able to call in F-100's on a target and the AAR (after action report) had to state that they dropped their bombs by accident not knowing exactly where they were.  I believe the F-100's were part of the 524th Fighter Wing out of Udorn or Tahkli.   Not real sure about that, but they were in the area during that time period.  And their bombs saved a SF SOG team for extermination. 

AAR's or After Action Reports

After each operation both the SF 1-0 and I had to fill out what was called an AAR.  This "after action report" would be reviewed by the CIA and MACV in Saigon.  Since I did not go on many complete missions, but was responsible for the LS, I never knew exactly what the SF 1-0 would put in his report.  My AAR would detail out what my team's part of the mission encountered and accomplished.  You had to note on a map where you encountered and/or engaged enemy troops.  I had to indicate on the map any kind of AA or AAA fire we saw our aircraft encounter.  You had to note who was injured, wounded, or killed.  You had to make as accurate count as possible of enemy KIAs or those wounded that may have gotten back to their own people.  It was a the responsibility of the PARU, if they had time, to get as much information off the enemy bodies as they could.  If it was NVA troops, they tore or cut off any unit chevrons so we could develop intel on their units.   I had to review how the Air America pilots handled their ends of the mission and also how the PARU responded  in combat situations.  I always had to make suggestions on how we could improve what we were doing.  I always said we needed more air power over the LS when we were making insertions and extractions.  I also always added that we needed heavy lift helicopters besides the H-34's and Bell 204's.  We never got any of the heavy lift stuff, but I still asked for it time and time again.

After the AAR was filed, it was not uncommon to have someone come get you and take you to some building somewhere in Vientiane (it was never the same building or even on the same street) and you would have to answer questions for several hours about the mission.  I don't know who those folks were, but they were in suits and ties, not military uniforms.  But that would not have been all that unusual in Laos. They wanted to make sure that what you put on the AAR jived with what you actually saw or encountered in the field.  It was like taking a test in high school, but all the questions had to be answered "yes" or "no."  Something like this: "Your AAR says that your team took fire from 12.7 AA weapons.  Yes or no?   On your AAR you state that you did not see any indication of 37 MM AA weapons, yes or no?"  And that is how it went for one, two, or even four hours.  I hope that gives you an indication of what an AAR is and what it is supposed to tell the higher ups.



 

Saturday, October 13, 2012

Life, Death and Faith on the Battlefield

Growing up in the 40's and 50's was a great thing.  It was a wonderful time to be a kid and living out in the countryside.  I had uncles and cousins that had come back from WWII and each had numerous stories to tell about their time in the military and WWII.  Some of their stories I didn't understand at the time and some were so scary I couldn't sleep on some nights after hearing them.  Not only that, but all my friends had fathers who had fought in WWII in one capacity or another.  My best friends father was exempt, I think, because of some health problem.  The father of two of my friends was a B-17 pilot and rose to the rank of Colonel in the 8th Air Force.  He was one of those who flew to the end of the war no matter how many missions that he had completed.  I had friends whose fathers had been in the Navy, Army Air Corp, Marine Corps, and U.S. Army Infantry.  I lived in the age of real heroes.  Not athletic heroes, but warrior heroes.  Patton, Nimitz, Eisenhower, Bradley, and MacArthur, to just name a few.  I dreamed of someday being like them and being a hero myself.  I must have had at least 500 of the little toy soldiers and tanks and artillery pieces.  I played war constantly as a kid, plotting strategy and operations.  I knew long before I knew a lot else that I was going to go into the military when I got out of school.

And from a very early age I heard the old adage, "There are no atheists in a foxhole."  Well, I was never sure that was correct, but I would get to find out for myself 12 or so years later in S.E. Asia.  I grew up in a household that consisted of my mother, grandmother (my mother's mother), my stepfather (who I thought was my real dad for many years), and my sister.  We first lived on a 12 acre parcel that my grandfather gave my grandmother when they divorced.  I was born in the old farmhouse on that property in December of 1942.  My grandfather then sold the rest of his land and bought a farm  in Kaufman, Texas, where he lived until he died in 1965 or so.  My grandmother sold the last 12 acres to a real estate developer and bought two houses on a street just about a quarter mile from the old homestead.  We were not a family of faith although my grandmother believed in God, but not necessarily did she believe in Christ.  I don't think I can remember her ever going to church although I know she did when she was young.  My stepfather grew up in a family that went to church and believed in God and Jesus Christ.  However, he didn't often go to church when he was living with us.  

However, they did make me and my sister go to Sunday School and sometimes church.  Occasionally, my mother and stepfather would go, but it was a rare event.  In this little Baptist Church, the children's Sunday School stressed memorizing the scriptures.   I hated it...boy did I hate doing that.  But, you had to do it or get ridiculed for not doing it.  I remember at the age of 7 or 8 memorizing The Lord's Prayer and the 23 rd Psalm.  And, of course we memorized some of the sayings of Jesus.  A note is needed here:  I hated going to Sunday School and Church in general.  Just hated it.  Didn't want to be there at all, especially on really pretty Sundays when I could down at the creek fishing or out in the fields hunting jack rabbits.  I was not an inside person.  I liked being outside and church was inside.  Didn't like it ..... didn't want it.... thought for sure I didn't need it.  Heck, no warrior needed the church....church was for weenies.   And I certainly didn't see myself as one of those.

At some point, I found out my stepfather wasn't my real father and that started a rebellion on my part that eventually caused my stepfather to leave and get a divorce from my mother.  I was eleven and I raised so much hell over their not telling me the truth, that there was no way they could have stayed together unless they got rid of me.....and I am sure they thought about that at some point.  I got to a point where I actually hated my stepfather (and he was always good to me, I have to say that because it is true) and my mother.  It eventually got to the point that I had to move out and move in with my grandmother.  I still have a rage within me about the lies they told me as a kid.   All their lies just encouraged me to lie as well.  It was an unhappy ending to a family, and I think my sister still holds that against me.  She was actually my half-sister, my mother's daughter but my stepfather was her father.  I could never get anyone in my family to talk about my real father and his family.  A lot more lies were told trying to keep me from finding out who he was.

My mother went through a series of boyfriends and finally married a man who was an alcoholic but quit drinking when he married my mother.  At least, we all thought he did.  I had moved back in with my mother at this point, but I was never really happy in that environment.  I once again moved back in with my grandmother.  I went to church for the last time when I was 11 years old, at least as a worshiper.  I was in the Boy Scouts by this time and we were sponsored by the Methodist Church in our town and so there was always programs at the  church I had to attend that had to do with Scouting.  Scouting and baseball were my two escapes from my family realities.  I eventually, with no help from my family, made Eagle Scout.  I worked as a counselor at summer camp several times and made a trip to Philmont Scout Ranch, the highlight of my scouting years.  There are two mottoes I still live by even today and they are scout mottoes:  Be  Prepared and Do a Good Turn Daily.  I kind of take the "Be Prepared" one to the extreme even today because I have backups for everything.  I almost two of everything just to make sure I have one that works.
Its just the way I'm wired.

When I graduated from high school, I immediately went down to the recruiting office in Dallas, Texas, and tried to join the Marines (that is a story in itself).  They said I was too small and that I needed to grow some more before I could become a Marine.  Talk about a put down.....I was down in the dumps for several days over that incident.  Then I decided, what the hell, I'll just go join the U.S. Air Force.  ( That is also another story).  I finally was able to sign up and was told that I would leave for basic training in September.  Well, that was okay with me because it gave me some time with my girlfriend and the whole summer to enjoy doing what I wanted.  In September I left for basic training at Lackland AFB in San Antonio, Texas.

Now, we'll jump to two and a half years later in Laos.  Faith is a funny thing.  I never thought I had any.  I was always suspicious of most folks and I never allowed anyone in real close to me and I certainly didn't trust any overly religious Christian.  I trusted very few people outside my small circle of influence.  I did trust the SF guys I worked with and my own PARU's. I never trusted Colonel Bradley, Tony Poe, or any of the CIA personnel.  And.....I certainly never trusted in God....any god of any kind.  By this time it had been almost ten years since I had been to church.  I didn't believe that God existed and Jesus Christ was just another man who had some strange philosophy that I didn't like.  Love your enemies.....right!  Do unto others as you would have then do unto you....yeah, that works real well in this hell called Laos.  But, at the time I had even forgotten those verses.  

Then there was LS 224.  I am not really sure that was the LS.  It could have been 284.  It's been a long time since then.  We were called and told that we needed to go to this LS. I was to take seven PARU with me and we were to land and hold this particular LS until a SF Team arrived that was "running hot."  "Running hot" meant that the team was in contact with enemy forces and  making a run for it with the enemy in pursuit.  I was told by Col. Bradley to carry extra grenades and ammo.  I was told this might be an extremely dangerous operation.  I would have four T-28's overhead for air assets.  I met my team on the tarmac at Wattay and boarded two choppers and headed to the site.  It was over an hour's flying time there.  When we arrived it was pretty quiet on the ground.  I assumed this LS was under Gen. Vang Pao's control.  Bad assumption.  While there were no enemy troops in the immediate area, it wasn't under the general's control. Akkrat was the indigenous team leader and he had a few guys I had not seem before.  Akkrat told me he was training some new members of his unit and they needed some real experience in the field.

After landing we set up our radios and I notified Vientiane that we were on the ground.  I then tried to contact the SF team to find out what their situation might be.  After several tries I finally made radio contact and was told that they had been ambushed and had wounded with them.  I gave them the map reference as to the location of the LS.  They told me they were at least six hours from our location and would try to get there sooner if possible.  Akkrat set up a defensive perimeter with his men on the upper side of the LS.  You always assume that you have been spotted by someone friendly with the enemy if not by the enemy themselves.  The helicopters had by that time headed back to Wattay to refuel.  However two other choppers were on the way just in case we had to get out before the SF team made it to our location.  If they were not needed by the time they reached us, they would land at an LS 30 minutes away at an LS controlled by Vang Pao's troops and refuel as they were carrying extra fuel with them. Everything was pretty quiet for the next four hours.  We had good cover and a good defensive position.  There was nothing to do but wait for the SF guys to arrive.

About 1600 hours (4PM) we hear intermittent gunfire below us.  I got in contact with the SF radio operator, the one two in SF terms, and asked him their ETA.  He said they could see the LS from their location and would be there in an hour.  What he didn't say was that the PL also saw the LS.  However, they did not know we were there.  They assumed, as they often did, that the SF team was all that were going to have to overcome.  It was apparent that the PL troops saw the LS as they were trying to flank the SF team.  I happened to catch a glimpse of them and realized what they were up to.  I radioed the SF team that they were being flanked to the north.  The radio operator said that his 1-0 told him to tell us to deal with it best we could.  That must be a standard SF saying.  I heard it a lot when I was in Laos.

From previous experience I knew they would try to get above the LS so they could be firing down on the SF team as it came to the LS.  I called Akkrat over and told him the situation.  We needed to get higher up because my guess was they they would come to this very spot we were defending.  We made a mad scramble up the mountain about 50 yards and repositioned ourselves for what might come our way.   Boy, it would have been nice to have some claymore mines, but we didn't.  It wasn't long until the PL troops showed up and did exactly what I had thought they would do.  They moved to the position we had just left.
There were at least twenty of them.  Akkrat gave the signal to use hand grenades.  Everyone put two of them in front of their position.  When they PL troops looked like they had settled in, we pulled the pins and tossed them down on the unsuspecting PL soldiers. Then hell broke lose.  The grenades went off and immediately the remaining PL soldiers turned and opened fire on us.  Tracers were flying around everywhere, but mostly over our heads.  Some of the PL guys tried to climb up towards us, but one of Akkrat's men dispatched them with a burst of AK fire.  I saw a grenade thrown our way but it landed way short of us and went off harmlessly.  The rifle fire was so intense that leaves, limbs and grass fragments were flying around everywhere, not to mention the bullets.  One of the PARU took a bullet to the head and died before he hit the ground.  It was at this point that I can remember saying this:  "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.  Though I walk through the valley of the shadow, I will fear no evil."  It had been ten years at least since I had heard or said those words.  In the midst of all this mayhem, here I am spouting Bible verses and I don't even believe in God.  It's a funny thing, but I remember this moment more than any other from my time in Laos.  Here I was, a so-called atheist, saying Bible verses I learned in Sunday School.  Bullets, grenades and I'm in a  hell on earth and I am saying Bible verses.  A few moments later the SF team made it to the LS and joined in the battle.  I was able to crawl over to the radio and call the support aircraft and told them I needed them to drop their ordinance 200 yards east of the smoke.  I pulled the pin on the smoke canister and threw it as far down the mountain as I could.  A T-28 peeled in and dropped some 100lb bombs right where we needed them.  Then I heard the helicopters to our west.  Another T-28 made a pass and dropped his bombs.  By this time the SF team had finished off the remaining PL troops immediately in front of front of us.  I didn't see any others below.  The choppers swooped in, we loaded the wounded and the dead, jumped in ourselves as the last T-28 made his pass over the enemies position.  And then, we got the hell out of Dodge.

When we arrived at Long Trieng, the SF team had been pretty well shot up.  Everyone on their team was wounded in some form or another.  They had lost their 1-1 weapons specialist and three of their six indigenous S. Vietnamese SF team members.  Our team had four wounded and one dead.  One of the remarkable things about this incident was that I didn't get so much as piece of shell fragment off the ricochets as they hit the rocks and trees.   Another funny thing about all of this is that it bothered me to talk about the Bible verses.  It was like it made me less of a man because I was saying this stuff...you know what,  I wasn't saying it, I was praying it.  Did God save me that day?  I don't really have an answer for that, but I can hope that he did.  After I became a Christian, I told this story in front of church congregations and most believe that God preserved me just so I could tell this story. 

Whatever the case may be, I am glad I was on that mountain that day.  What I learned about myself has lasted a life time.