Vietnam Night River Crossing, January 1969

Vietnam Night River Crossing, January 1969

by Ranger LT. Tom Carpenter

 

In the Beginning in a land far away…

This operation started when myself and twelve men, armed to the teeth, quietly slipped off Firebase Hill 88 during the dark of the night. We were a reinforced squad with two snipers, one machine gunner, a medic and several riflemen including myself as patrol leader. We numbered 13 men and we quietly walked, single file for several miles in the night within the flat coastal plain. Most of the terrain was designated a ‘Free Fire Zone’ meaning anybody we saw could be presumed to be an enemy. To reach the enemy’s backyard we had to wade across a shallow chest deep, crocodile infested river that terminated into the ocean nearby. During the day prior to leaving Hill 88, I had been able to do a helicopter reconnaissance and got some ideas for our foot movement. I did see crocodiles in the river but I never told my men about them as I figured they already had enough to worry about.

Our plan was to arrive within the enemy stronghold, undetected, before the first light of dawn. We were to move to the high ground where, during the day, we would remain alert for enemy activity. If we saw enemy, our weapons of extended range (the snipers with M14 rifles as well as the M60 machine gun) would engage the enemy. In addition, I would radio for artillery support from Hill 88. When the contact died down, we would leave our high ground and manually sweep the “killing zone” to see what the results were, if any. That was the plan and much preparation had been put into it. Our movement and set up was without incident …”I love it when a plan comes together”.

During the night, we were to move off the high ground and set up an ambush on one of the many trails used by the enemy. Before dawn, we would return to the high ground. Delta had done several of these type of sniper operations with success but the enemy was becoming wise to our ways and retaliated by increasing their explosive booby traps. Booby traps and night movements made all of us nervous but we had our orders and proceeded with the mission.

From our high point, concealed among rocks and boulders, the view was spectacular. Our panoramic view included the beach of the South China Sea and the coastal plain, part of which was rice paddies.

We had been on this operation for two days and three nights and had no enemy activity. Reacting to an informant’s tip (military intelligence) my Delta Company Commander (Captain Lester ‘Red’ Walkley) radioed me orders to cease the sniper mission. A large and strong enemy force was predicted to move down the beach during that night. Captain Walkley was making sure that there would be enough men and firepower to handle this large enemy force so he was sending the remaining portion of my platoon from Hill 88. We were to rendezvous then trek about a mile and set up a platoon size ambush of the beach. All this was to be done under the cover of darkness. I would then have my full platoon which numbered 32 men. As a rifle platoon, we were a formable combat unit that often included three M60 machine guns, an assortment of small arms and explosives, and at least 4 radios. The radios gave us communication with each of our 3 squads (8 to 12 men per squad) and among ourselves as well as connection with artillery, helicopter gun ships, medical evacuations, Air Force combat support, other units, and of course, our commanders.

I had my orders so I made my plans. I had only been with Delta company a month and this was to be my first night combat operation with my full platoon. Having one squad meet and join two other squads naturally made me apprehensive. One mistake by anybody could quickly escalate into a disaster. Combining any kind of friendly forces was dangerous but the blindness of the night made it extremely dangerous.

The second in command was my platoon sergeant was SFC (Sergeant First Class) Robert R. Fry. He was a “soldier’s soldier” and one of the best. His tour of duty with my platoon was his third year in the Vietnam War. His first two tours he had been with the Green Beret Special Forces. The men loved him as he was sharp, caring, fair and a killing machine if needed. I think he had been awarded the Silver Star for valor twice during from his previous tours. SFC Fry was to lead the reinforcements from Hill 88 and I had confidence that he would do an outstanding job.

I had good reason to be apprehensive about my platoon joining together in the night. Early in my tour of duty I had witnessed from the high hilltop of Firebase Hill 88 (88 meters above sea level) a night operation in a village below. I visually followed a South Vietnamese Army platoon enter the village from several different directions and accidentallly fire upon each other, resulting in several dead and wounded of their own. Watching this happen made a big impression on me regarding night movements and operations. Friendly fire incidents are also called ‘fratricide’ and common in all wars. The worst fratricide often comes our own artillery or direct air support. Errors and misinformation are the main cause of fratricide. Statistically it is estimated to account for a third of the casualties for the infantry.

Delta company (field strength was about 90 men) had been a victim of Friendly Fire. On Aug 8, 1968 (four months before I joined Delta company) they had an F-100 Super Sabre jet fighter pilot mistakenly fired his weapons into Delta company’s position, resulting in eight killed and 25 wounded. This occurred on the east edge of the A Shau Valley, also known to us as the Valley of Death. I heard of the incident on the national TV news while I was still training in the United States. I did not realize then that I was to be assigned to that company for my entire tour of duty, starting in early December, 1968.

Most of us were constantly concerned about friendly fire incidents and often took procedures to minimize the risks of getting our own people killed or wounded by our own awesome fire power. Dark shadows and sounds of the night are very confusing. Adrenaline flows excessively and great discipline is needed to not shoot blindly. We mostly operated within a ‘free fire zone’ so the chances of meeting an enemy were often great.

Our new orders meant that we were to link up on the far side of the same river we had waded across just a few nights previous but this time at a different location.

My father had been an Army officer and he had taught me that you should never ask your men to do something you wouldn’t do, or had not done, yourself. I made it a point to take my turn at some of the more dangerous jobs and it seemed like a good time for me to take the point for the river crossing. Through radio and hand signals, we had come to a location where SFC Fry and the men were on the bank of the far side of the river. I took my equipment, to include my M-16 rifle and rucksack, and held everything above my head so as to keep things dry and I waded into the river. My men were doing the same as they too waded into the dark river, single file.

The ocean tide must have made the river deeper than the previous river crossings. I proceeded forward and quickly found my head and helmet completely under water. I wondered how the men behind me would do in this deep water but I figured if I could make it across they too could. I considered aborting this attempt but since the situation was still slightly manageable, I would continue. I quickly figured out that, while under water, I could take two steps then as I did the third step I could jumped up, poke my head above the water line and gasp a breath of air before going back under and then continue walking another two steps under water so this is what I did. The rhythm seemed to be step, step, jump up with the third step

Doing this was excruciatingly exhausting as the weight held above our head was probably more than 80 pounds per man. This weight actually aided our walk as it stabilized our movement rather than having to deal with too much buoyancy.

As I came close to the far side of the river the depth lessened and once again my head was finally above water. I continued in the direction of where the other men were waiting. Suddenly I heard and recognized the sound of a rifle chambering a round. I knew my platoon was to my forward and to my left but the sound came from my forward and to my right. Our S.O.P. (Standard Operating Procedures) in a Free Fire Zone was that all our men already had a round chambered. Also it sounded like an enemy rifle and not like our M-16 rifle. I expected to be fired upon or have a grenade thrown from an enemy or from my own platoon. I continued wading and I saw the dark outline of a helmeted man come into my field of vision. I whispered, as loud as I dare, our motto and universal password, “No Slack, No Slack, No Slack”.

The shadowy figure answered back in a whisper, “No Slack … Sir is that you?”. He was my platoon sergeant, SFC Fry. I answered back, and asked if he had anybody near the location of the sound of the rifle chambering a round. He told me “No Sir, I heard it too.” Fearing a friendly fire incident, I told him to pass the word not to shoot anybody or anything until all the sniper element behind me had completed the river crossing … unless they were sure their targets were enemy.

Our guardian angels got everybody safely across. Those of us that crossed were soaked to the bone and cold from the breeze coming off the ocean. SFC Fry sent a fire team (3-5 men) to checked out the area where the enemy sound had came from but found nothing. We reformed into single file and snaked our way to the designated area for the night ambush. Later, I was told by SFC Fry that some of my men did complain about their under water river walk, especially the shorter men but no one complained directly to me. Maybe I heard no complaints because I chose to use the Ranger motto of “Rangers Lead the Way”. I guess the taller men helped the shorter men and we all made it.

No enemy came down the beach that night. At daylight the next day, we reformed from the ambush site and ate a breakfast of cold C-rations then began our trek back to Firebase Hill 88. Since it was daylight, we did not use the single file formation but I staggered each squad and each man was staggered within the squad. The squads moved independent of each other yet they would available to provide supporting fire power and maneuverability in case the enemy sniped or ambushed us.

During this movement, we found a series of bunkers and bomb shelters built by the enemy but they were all empty. As per our S.O.P.s everyone carried two sticks of dynamite and blasting caps. I radioed Captain Walkley and got permission to blow up all the bunkers. Seems like we spent several hours doing this but I was able to make it a learning session about TNT, safety, explosions and yelling “Fire in the Hole, Fire in the Hole, Fire in the Hole” before each detonation. 32 men each with 2 sticks equals 64 sticks of dynamite. All my men seemed to have fun setting off their dynamite and blowing things up … but that’s a different story.

Dead tired from all the night work and the foot movement back to Hill 88 and the dynamiting, we did not expect or received any time off during the day as per the S.O P (Standard Operating Procedures) and traditions of an Airborne rifle platoon in the 101st Airborne Division,Vietnam, 1969.  That same day became like most other days with  being on work parties that constantly improved the firebases perimeter defenses.  Also there were patrols off the firebase that was done as a preventive measure of keeping the enemy from a sneak attack.  Some units gave the men a chance to catch some sleep after a night operation but not our Delta company.

Like most of our operations, we had no direct enemy contact. I considered it a success as our presence within their turf had to curtail enemy routines and movements while none of my men were injured, wounded, or killed. All while we earned five days and four nights toward our one year tour of duty.

In retrospect, we knew the enemy had enough spies and lookouts among the  villagers that we were watched most of the time, day and night.  Even when we were not near the villages but in the boondocks and in enemy territory, the enemy would place lookouts along our “avenues of approach”.   These enemy were called “trail watchers” and often they would be alone but there to provide a first alert regarding our presence.   If possible, their one shot would be aimed directly at us and sometimes wounding or killing us.  Most of the enemy trail watchers and snipers would fire their weapon once (once was the signal ) then instantaneously flee the area and live to fight another day.

Usually after a mission, several of us, especially the platoon leader lieutenants,  would brainstorm and think through what happened and improve our ways to “get Mr Charles better” (“Mr Charles” was the North Vietnamese Army soldier,  “Charlie” was the Viet Cong counterpart).

Regarding the operation I wrote this story about, I think that when the reinforcement platoon left Hill 88 during that night, they were seen and probably followed at a distance.  As the platoon neared the rendezvous point by the river, the enemy was going to fire a warning shot but discovered his rifle did not have a round in the chamber.  When he chambered the round, he gave his position away and knew we would have responded to his shot resulting in his death.  Instead of firing the warning shot, I bet he slipped away and eventually warned the other enemy of our presence. This might be why the night ambush we had set up turned out to be another night where the enemy got away.

I am happy to say that I never had any of my men seriously wounded or killed by fratricide. Most of the soldiers served their country extremely well and they are proud of their service and would do it again if ever needed.

Yours In War, In Peace, In Christ
Ranger 1LT Tom Carpenter
Carrollton, MO
Email:  [email protected]