The "Village People"

Hue, pronounced "way" (go figure), was strangely settled down when we got there. There'd been a tremendous block-to-block fight for that city during the TET Siege, while WE were hammering it out at Khe Sanh. We'd heard plenty about Hue and even though it had been declared "secure", we were still looking for some kind of crap to start. Nothing DID though, (at least during the short time WE were there).

We ran several patrols out of there but saw little. That changed when we got into Quang Tri, though. We had barely gotten settled into our tents when WE, the "newest pack of Marines" got rocketed! It was almost like they knew the exact area we we quartered in. Anyway, we weren't roughed up too badly, and we started running patrols out of there within the next couple of days, sometimes squad-sized patrols, and sometimes an entire platoon would go out.

On one particular occasion, 3rd platoon (mine) was assigned to go through some big village. As usual, the little kids were out playing, and begging for "chop-chop" (food) as we came through. Sometimes you'd toss them one of those tin-foiled unsweetened chocolate discs that'd we'd get in some of the C-Ration meals. They weren't very good, but that never seemed to bother the village kids!.........DOG FOOD is probably tasty when you're hungry!

You always had to be careful though. The VC would sometimes stuff one of those "potato masher" grenades down the back of some little kid's pants and scurry him out of some hut toward some G.I., igniting the timed fuse as the kid ran out the door....................so, you always had to watch THAT. They'd sacrifice some little boy or cute little girl in a MINUTE, to get a few of US!.

(Not much has changed in 2010, eh?) Very little value on human life.

Once in awhile, we'd walk into a small ambush. Vietnamese look like Vietnamese. A "farmer" in the rice paddies might wave at you during the daytime, but be out there in his "black pajamas" that same night, setting up BOOBY TRAPS which you STEADILY had to watch for.

One particular nasty trap, was the "foot square" hole with the pungi stakes facing DOWNWARD and angled. The stakes wouldn't stab you if your foot dropped INTO the hole, but they'd prevent you from being able to pull your foot back OUT. And as your foot passed through the downward stakes, it pulled a tripwire that brought an immediately-armed GRENADE into that hole WITH you! If it didn't kill you when it went off, at MINIMUM, it blew off your leg.

You had to watch EVERYTHING over there, and trust NOBODY but your fellow Marines.

Sometimes you'd draw sniper fire from a village, and you'd return fire of course. Often, they'd shoot from some villager's hut, and might even be using some of their "fellow countrymen" as human shields behind the window transoms (THAT hasn't changed EITHER in 2010).

Ok............there might be innocent civilians in some of those shacks. But in 1968, we weren't holding any social lectures or encounter group meetings. You get FIRED upon, you shoot BACK! These liberal college professors who lecture so freely about human attrocities, need to put their yellow butts in a uniform sometime, shoulder a pack & rifle and get a taste of the real world, beyond their audirorium podiums.

You shoot until the job is done. YOUR survival and that of your buddies is PRIORITY. Innocent people get killed in village fights. Usually can't be helped, but a good commander isn't gonna let his men get chopped up, because of humanitarian sympathies. That might sound cold.........but that's war.

If Congressmen like the late John Murtha (who had those eight Marines court-martialled at Pendleton over that village incident in Iraq), don't UNDERSTAND that, then their Congresses need to NOT support wars where we send our troops over in places like this to BEGIN with! (I was NOT upset when he died a year or so ago)................oops.......better be careful not to get "political here!"

Sometimes we'd draw fire from across the rice paddy dikes. The M-60 teams would lay down a wall of lead in return, the rest of us would "pop" back with M-16's, except for ONE GUY who now had something bigger! I LOVE a rifle that KICKS. Recoil is a direct indication of how much power is going out the OTHER end! (I had personally seen "Lukes" up north take three and even FOUR rounds from those little "high-speed 22's, as they were trying to get through the barbed wire). It was believed that some of them were "hopped up" a little on opium before they'd charge in some of those frontal attacks, and unless you HEADSHOT them with a '16, he might not go down immediately, and STILL get off a burst with his AK while he was still on his feet, or at least toss a grenade while he was still sagging.

My "new" M-14 was of course, a big THIRTY caliber. Here at home, when you hit an 600-lb elk with a 308, he goes down. In Vietnam, when you hit a 120-lb "Luke" with a 308, he goes DOWN. And in situations where they break off the encounter and retreat back into the hillsides, I could STILL fire at 'em after they'd gotten out of M-16 range.

It was an appreciable difference. At Khe Sanh, everytime I was leaning over the sandbags, I'd be thinking "I hope this thing doesn't jam again."

At Quang Tri, I was thinking........"Bring it ON "LUKE!" I've got me a RIFLE now!

ANYWAY...........we had just passed through one of those little villages and were well outside the town limits of Dong Ha. We were headed out on a platoon-sized patrol, and were on a dirt road,, when our machinegun team (up near the front of the column) opened fire, as the rest of us hit the deck. These little "skirmishes" were normally minor, and the gun teams were always enough to settle it. Rocket teams were always a little further back in a patrol column, just in case there was some barrier the machineguns couldn't punch through.

John Bosch & I were laying down in the high grass, waiting for the M-60 "chatter" up front to stop. Then we'd all get up and be on our way again. This was generally the routine.

Padgett, Moore and Robinson were OUR M-60 team, and they were going through a lot of ammo up there, and finally the call for "ROCKETS UP!" got relayed down to us. Bosch & I looked at each other as if to say, "WHO??....US???

Aside from the lone rocket shot I'd fired from 861, I'd been more of a RIFLEMAN than a "bazookaman". I'd felt at times, like the old "Maytag Repairman" (remember him?). I left my '14 across my pack, and just took the LAAW launcher I'd been carrying. Bosch had the "stovepipe" and a couple of rockets for it, and we went up to the front of the column.

We crawled the last 100 feet or so, to duck under the AK-47 fire that was "pinging" all over the place, and when we reached Padgett's team, he said, "Man we're glad to see YOU guys!"

"WHAT'S GOIN' ON??"

"RIGHT OVER THERE, BRAD'.........IT'S COMIN' OUT OF THAT CHURCH"

It was an old church or monastary, and you could see muzzle flashes coming out of different windows, as the rounds kept whizzing by. It was made of rock and mortar, thickly built from the "olden times". A machinegun could "chip-away" at it, but they'd have been eligible for social security by the time they wore a hole through the massive walls.

Deciding that the LAAW might not be enough, Bosch & I elected to use the big 3.5 stovepipe. He would load the breech and jump out of the way. I would take the shot. (Bosch was brand new-----no need to throw him to the wolves just yet).

It would be a much easier shot than the 350-yarder I took from 861 with the little LAAW. The distance was less than a hundred yards, and I had a lot more rocket to do it with. The 90mm rocket in the "stovepipe" was a HEAP more powerful than the 66mm in the LAAW, and had much greater range, although range wasn't an issue here, as it was a relatively SHORT shot for a bazooka. Getting through MASSIVE barrier was the issue. You could almost hit that church with your eyes closed, but getting THROUGH it is an old "stovepipe" specialty.

"Hit that church"..........."CHURCH"...........I wan't overly religious back then, but for a micro-second, taking out somebody's house of worship, didn't set well. But as we kept getting "potted" at, I quickly got back to business.

Bosch loaded the first 9-lb rocket, armed it and tapped me on the helmet that all was clear behind me in the backblast area, (including HIMSELF).

THIS was the part I didn't like. Where they had us pinned down, I would have to stand up, or at least fire from the kneeling position so both rocket and backblast cleared everything forward and aft. On cue, all of OUR guys would lay down a field of fire into those church windows, keeping "LUKE" pinned down while I took the shot. But you could never be sure that there weren't a couple of them OUTSIDE in the trees somewhere, hoping to get a whack at some clown standing up.

The sighting grid on the big launcher starts out at 100, so the shot would be almost point-blank. I'd quickly be able to "line it up and squeeze it off."

"COVER!".......I yelled. Padgett's team opened up, as did the riflemen on either side. I got into the kneeling position (I wasn't ABOUT to stand up). Lined it up and "BOOM!" It hit the wall next to one of the windows with a tremendous explosion.......chunks of rock, dirt and debris flying everywhere. There was no return fire and while the smoke was still bellowing out of there, our Platoon Leader yells to me............."HIT 'EM AGAIN!"

I didn't WANT to "hit 'em again." If there WAS a "LUKE" out there we hadn't seen, we had just "advertised" that there was a rocket launcher among us, and he'd be LOOKING to spray a burst of AK at me the next time I got up to fire.

"CRAP!" I thought.......I felt a nudge on the tube, looked back and Bosch was already loading the second round into it, and Padgett had his finger on the trigger of his M-60, had a fresh belt loaded, waiting to spray some cover again, yelling out "HOLLER WHEN YOU'RE READY BRAD!!"

The first shot had virtually blown an entire corner off of that old church, so I'd aim this time for the largest mass of wall that was still there. (We'd only packed two rockets for the big tube, and I'd already fired ONE of them. We still had a couple of LAAWS if needed).

All I could think of was some lone sniper out there, who would now be looking for a ROCKET TEAM. I did NOT want to take this "second shot!" The smoke and burning powder coming out of that church wouldn't last forever, and if there was still anybody alive in there, they'd be shooting shortly. So I just "separated myself" from reality, and did what I'd been trained to do.

................"COVER!!"................."BOOM!!"............

I immediately threw myself into the dirt to avoid the "sniper fire" that never came. The shot was good. There were still a couple of walls standing, and there were a couple of them STILL ALIVE, but they scrambled out of there and Padgett's team cut them down as they ran out.

The Lieutenant sent a small scouting team out there to survey the church remains, and when they signalled it was clear, the rest of us filed by, while the Lieutenant called back to HQ. I'd seen blood & guts all over 861 and a few other places, but what I saw here almost made me sick. Bazookas are designed for armor and hardened bunkers, and these two rounds went through that church like a hot knife through butter, but what the people INSIDE that church looked like........ I'm not even going to attempt to describe on this blog. It was horrible.

I had maybe three months left in 'Nam, and didn't NEED anymore of this. I really didn't.

But there'd be one more "incident" that probably aged me 10 years or so, before I could finally get on that "Freedom Bird" in DaNang and go home