10-19-2021, 11:07 AM
(This post was last modified: 10-19-2021, 11:21 AM by Daryavesh.
Edit Reason: correct typo
)
Thanks for your kind words, Blue Bird. Yes, we lost quite a few young men at that time. Not sure how best to say this, but much of the time I feel as though I have one foot in 1967 and one foot in the here and now. Reckon its just that way for some of us. I see and hear those guys in my dreams at night and I want to change what happened but I can't. Always ends the same. But I won't let them go. Not until I join them.
The photo was taken in April of 1967 between Dong Ha and Cam Lo, North of Highway 9 and East of the bridge. That's me...... Center front, with an old WW II era M2 carbine. They took our M14s and I hated the M16 as much as I hated red mud and shaving. Made a deal with an ARVN (South Vietnamese) Sgt. for the M2 and beaucoup .30 cal. ammo and 30-round banana clip mags. Traded him several cases of C-rations (all Ham and Lima beans) for them.
You see, I had a little side hustle going on back then...... Didn't smoke nor drink coffee, so I bartered and traded C-rats, smokes and other items. I wouldn't touch Ham and Lima beans, of course. Besides not being Kosher...... They must have tasted really awful, for even the goyim would rather starve than eat them. We had a name for them, but I cannot repeat it in polite company. Suffice to say I had a lot of them I wasn't able to move (trade for anything), as nobody else wanted them, either. Also saved sugar, cream and cocoa packets and a few dessert rations to trade.
Exception was at Con Thien. NVA walked artillery across our position daily and whenever we had a Huey drop down anywhere near the LZ. There were days when we were lucky to have 1 issue of C-rats (1 meal). Some days, we had none. When I first got there, I wasn't sure whether I'd starve first or get it from incoming. All I knew after talking to the guys who'd been there over a week was the odds weren't good for making it through a 30-day rotation.
I was looking for an M1 carbine when I was negotiating with the ARVN Sgt. Needed something I was familiar with. Something with a wooden stock and I needed something I could mount a bayonet on. Got lucky. He had an M2 (an M1 carbine with full auto selector). Wooden stock and foregrip were a little worse for wear, but it wasn't rusty (much).
The selector was stuck on single fire until I freed it up, though. Had to wrap cloth around the receiver and keep it damp with oil for a week until I could come up with a cleaning kit. But with a good cleanup and liberal amounts of elbow grease and Remington gun oil, the action and the selector were smooth as silk. Not long after that, we were sent up to Con Thien as a replacements.
Hadn't been there long before the NVA sent two battalions to try and push us off the hill at Con Thien. That was 8 May, 1967. We were up along the DMZ in Quang Tri Province. Close enough to see the Song Ben Hai meandering towards the sea. This was the river that separated North and South Viet Nam.
From what I was told later, we had about 246 men on the hill that night if you include the 11th Engineers, a handful of SeaBees, a dozen or so Army Green Berets and around 30 Nung mercenaries they were riding herd on. When the sun rose, we had 44 Marines KIA & 110 WIA, of which I was one. SeaBees had 5 WIA, Green Berets had 4 WIA and half their Nungs were KIA and the rest WIA.
I made it through several hours of the fighting. Fired off all my ammo including the 15 rounds I had for my M79 grenade launcher. Last I remember, it was pitch black except for the explosions and tracer rounds in all directions. I had run out of ammo and had broken the stock off my rifle. I was swinging my entrenching tool like a broad axe, as it was all I had left. This was a small shovel with a short folding handle. I kept the leading edge on mine as sharp as a razor 'just in case'.
Was told later a satchel charge was most likely what got me. I recall coming around for a while as the sun rose. Couldn't get up, so sat there on the edge of a shell hole propped up on one elbow trying to keep breathing. At that time, there were still a few shots being fired as NVA that didn't make it out of the perimeter wire and wouldn't surrender shot it out with our guys and were finished off.
As I sat there, a young 2nd Lt. came by. Never saw him before. The carnage was awful. Dead and wounded from both sides were everywhere. I was 19 and he didn't look much older. He seemed as if in a daze. Kept asking 'How much longer (must this continue)?' I remember trying to get up and salute. But I couldn't. So I told him...... 'Sir, we will have war as long as men who are too old to fight send men who are too young to die to do their fighting for them.' And then I must have passed out again, for I only remember little bits of things for the next 10 days after I was medevac'd and ended up on a hospital ship (USS Sanctuary).
Best regards to you and yours,
Daryavesh
The photo was taken in April of 1967 between Dong Ha and Cam Lo, North of Highway 9 and East of the bridge. That's me...... Center front, with an old WW II era M2 carbine. They took our M14s and I hated the M16 as much as I hated red mud and shaving. Made a deal with an ARVN (South Vietnamese) Sgt. for the M2 and beaucoup .30 cal. ammo and 30-round banana clip mags. Traded him several cases of C-rations (all Ham and Lima beans) for them.
You see, I had a little side hustle going on back then...... Didn't smoke nor drink coffee, so I bartered and traded C-rats, smokes and other items. I wouldn't touch Ham and Lima beans, of course. Besides not being Kosher...... They must have tasted really awful, for even the goyim would rather starve than eat them. We had a name for them, but I cannot repeat it in polite company. Suffice to say I had a lot of them I wasn't able to move (trade for anything), as nobody else wanted them, either. Also saved sugar, cream and cocoa packets and a few dessert rations to trade.
Exception was at Con Thien. NVA walked artillery across our position daily and whenever we had a Huey drop down anywhere near the LZ. There were days when we were lucky to have 1 issue of C-rats (1 meal). Some days, we had none. When I first got there, I wasn't sure whether I'd starve first or get it from incoming. All I knew after talking to the guys who'd been there over a week was the odds weren't good for making it through a 30-day rotation.
I was looking for an M1 carbine when I was negotiating with the ARVN Sgt. Needed something I was familiar with. Something with a wooden stock and I needed something I could mount a bayonet on. Got lucky. He had an M2 (an M1 carbine with full auto selector). Wooden stock and foregrip were a little worse for wear, but it wasn't rusty (much).
The selector was stuck on single fire until I freed it up, though. Had to wrap cloth around the receiver and keep it damp with oil for a week until I could come up with a cleaning kit. But with a good cleanup and liberal amounts of elbow grease and Remington gun oil, the action and the selector were smooth as silk. Not long after that, we were sent up to Con Thien as a replacements.
Hadn't been there long before the NVA sent two battalions to try and push us off the hill at Con Thien. That was 8 May, 1967. We were up along the DMZ in Quang Tri Province. Close enough to see the Song Ben Hai meandering towards the sea. This was the river that separated North and South Viet Nam.
From what I was told later, we had about 246 men on the hill that night if you include the 11th Engineers, a handful of SeaBees, a dozen or so Army Green Berets and around 30 Nung mercenaries they were riding herd on. When the sun rose, we had 44 Marines KIA & 110 WIA, of which I was one. SeaBees had 5 WIA, Green Berets had 4 WIA and half their Nungs were KIA and the rest WIA.
I made it through several hours of the fighting. Fired off all my ammo including the 15 rounds I had for my M79 grenade launcher. Last I remember, it was pitch black except for the explosions and tracer rounds in all directions. I had run out of ammo and had broken the stock off my rifle. I was swinging my entrenching tool like a broad axe, as it was all I had left. This was a small shovel with a short folding handle. I kept the leading edge on mine as sharp as a razor 'just in case'.
Was told later a satchel charge was most likely what got me. I recall coming around for a while as the sun rose. Couldn't get up, so sat there on the edge of a shell hole propped up on one elbow trying to keep breathing. At that time, there were still a few shots being fired as NVA that didn't make it out of the perimeter wire and wouldn't surrender shot it out with our guys and were finished off.
As I sat there, a young 2nd Lt. came by. Never saw him before. The carnage was awful. Dead and wounded from both sides were everywhere. I was 19 and he didn't look much older. He seemed as if in a daze. Kept asking 'How much longer (must this continue)?' I remember trying to get up and salute. But I couldn't. So I told him...... 'Sir, we will have war as long as men who are too old to fight send men who are too young to die to do their fighting for them.' And then I must have passed out again, for I only remember little bits of things for the next 10 days after I was medevac'd and ended up on a hospital ship (USS Sanctuary).
Best regards to you and yours,
Daryavesh