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During
our second tour to Vietnam and around the turn of November/December 1970, we
tried to infiltrate two or three patrols into the Nui May Tao-Nui Be areas
('nui' meaning hill or mountain), but with none lasting too far past the
infiltration stage. The May Tao Mountains area - in the main a set of
tortoise shaped highlands with the head facing west - was about 45km North
East of Nui Dat and with most of it in the adjacent Binh Tuy Province to us.
The smaller May Tao or ‘the head’ bit feature, was in actual fact the
topographical junction point for Long Khanh, Binh Tuy and out own Phuoc Tuy
Province.
Then
as the norm, a further two patrols were tasked to go in, myself a member of
one. But what the main tasking
was, apart from the standard reconnaissance phases, I can’t recall, but a
large American operation was taking place in and around the other and
northern side of the May Tao’s about the same time.
They’d been relatively successful but had also taken a few
casualties in the process, particularly during an assault on a VC Sapper
Recon Training Camp - possibly Dong 10 cadre - a few clicks in from the
northwest base of the larger Nui Be spur.
But whatever the plot! Around the 26th. December 1970, eight M113
Armoured Personnel Carriers of the 3rd Calvary Regiment were ordered up to a
small hamlet called Ap Rung La astride National Route 1 (the “La Rue” 1
or “Street Without Joy” of French times) in Binh Tuy, and there to RV
with United States forces in situ and in turn with two of our patrols; Alan
‘Junior’ Smith (Bravo Nine Sierra 14) and
Jack Gebhardt (Bravo Nine Sierra 21) to be lifted in by helicopter a day
or so later and with views to carrying out a ‘northern approach’ ground
infiltration and patrol as opposed to the helicopter mentioned.
There were in fact three ‘Ap Rung La’ hamlets cum villages in a
neat row along this point of the highway, but with the Vietnamese
language’s liking for inflections, all no doubt sounding different.
But whichever! Our main
interest lay in the small sou'eastern one; the one alongside Nui Be and our
RV with the APC’s. As an
additional aspect to the cover and deception plan of our infiltration.
We were all to be dressed in our standard issue greens as opposed to
our normal SAS camouflaged gear, and to appear for all intent and purposes,
as no more than part of an Infantry support group allotted to our APC’s
protection. At this point in time I was a member of 14 patrol, having
rehearsed the drills, but as the situation developed down the line, this
aspect was to change. We were
picked up at Nadzab by a lone re-supply helicopter - all-further adding to
the theme - and headed out
towards Xuyen Moc before turning NE for Ap Rung La and the RV.
And an indication of things to come appeared a short time later,
around Bau Ham Lake and swamps, and where we spotted a group of VC on the
move. We landed in a cloud of dust in the middle of the Cavalry Leaguer and
were greeted very happily, for it turned out that the expected tanks and
support of the United States group had had to leave almost immediately on
our APC’s arrival, and leaving them with an anxious night a long way from
home and without any ground support, in the menacing lee of a 847m Nui Be
summit. From where we lay near Ap Rung La - at about a few clicks down the
road to the SW - we could also make out the equally ominous entrance to the
May Tao-Nui Be Pass. In
reality, the pass was no more than a ten click strip of rough oxcart plus
width piece of rough red Viet dirt, but where it lay as in the VC’s back
yard, always made it ‘Tiger Country’ and to the fullest.
And although the main peaks either side were over a dozen clicks
apart, the jungle covered slopes running down to the edge of the track,
however, also always gave it all the very distinct smell of a VC ambush
about to happen. Putting all
this out of mind - as we did - the APC crews still nethertheless voiced a
few very legitimate concerns, about the possibility of the odd land mine
being left lying about for us.
Both
our patrol drop off points were give or take around the halfway mark into
the pass - a nice thought as we checked and rechecked our weapons - with
Junior and us off first for the southern slopes of the May Tao feature, and
Jack’s start three or four clicks lower, as his Area of Operations lay by
a huge re-entrance and the Suoi Tram stream at the SW spurs of the Nui Be.
And so the next step was departure for our respective AO's and the APCs to
get going on their return leg to Nui Dat via the pass and infiltrations - a
rehearsed drill which generally allowed us to slip away unnoticed - and
after which they would carry on with the given impression of everyone having
left the area for good and continuing on to the track's end by Heip Hoa on
Route 23 for night harbour. Or
at least, that’s what the plan was at that stage. The Cavalry Officer
Commanding, a very composed major and in overall charge of the infiltration,
was keen to get going and to have everything over and done with.
And as there was still plenty of daylight left. It was a point we
were in total agreement with.
The
eight APCs looked, felt and sounded menacing as they entered the pass. The
snarls and pitches of their motors as they positioned or negotiated their
vehicles over rough bits of track - particularly as the pass gradually
closed in - sounding twice as loud as normal.
They were spread out over 250 metres in their “action” mode and
with an 81mm mortar crew on board as well as ourselves, we had manpower
between us for an SAS troop and feeling extremely confident.
This confidence ebbed somewhat, as the track became increasingly
narrower, and to the point at times, where we actually had to lever foliage
away from the APCs. We soon realised that we had come off onto a large
eastern side track - very easily done as the pass had numerous unmarked
run-offs and bypasses to cater for local movements and the wet season - and
with daylight rapidly fading as it does in the jungle, we now suddenly found
ourselves stuck in the bowels of the Nui Be somewhere.
Our only tactical choice left, was to backtrack to the mouth of the
pass by extricating ourselves from the extremely vulnerable position we all
of a sudden found ourselves in, and to establish as secure a night harbour
as possible for a further night and to try again in the morning.
This we managed without any VC incident to our amazement - mine at
least!! And also finding a reasonable clearing to suit near the mouth.
A
relatively large APC leaguer needs a good visual buffer zone between itself
and any potential attack. This
as totally opposed to the tiny and secretive “lying up place” that we
were used to and which was generally placed in the thickest and dirtiest
patch of the jungle about. But
whatever the tactical differences! We
were warned out for 50 percent “stand-to” for the night hours to come.
At
around 0300, during my second or third shift on one of the APC’s .30
calibre machine guns, I spotted movement down in the tree line to the SE.
It was a pretty clear night and before I needed to get all the tricks
of night vision going - glancing away from the target and then back or
looking out of the corner of the eye to give the rods and cones a better
chance - it was all confirmed. Two
NVA or VC or whichever, the left one with what looked like a profile of an
AK47 slung downwards over his left shoulder, standing there quite passively
and looking at us. Or at least,
the left bloke was. The right
one seemed to be engaged in some kind of animated cum soundless argument
with the first VC: facing the main bloke as he went about it, and gesturing
away clearly at two to the dozen in the shadow of the trees, as if to make
his point. You didn’t have to be Einstein to work out who or what they
might be talking about, and I expected the whoosh of an RPG or three
incoming any moment. But at the
same time and for the time being. I
also realised, that in all probability, it would be no more than a passing
VC reconnaissance party or standing patrol.
This is what I instinctively felt it to be, and that the VC also
knew, that we or at least that some of us, were also right into them.
A night attack then and there however, and depending on the numbers,
could have very easily given us a severe bloody nose all the same.
With all this prognosis computed through the mind in a matter of
seconds as I fumbled for the safety catch of the .30 calibre machine gun,
not even knowing if it had been fully cocked by our first man at the start
of the shift! While also trying
to get the “thumbs-down” enemy signal around - all in the relative
darkness to half asleep blokes and with the other half facing the other way.
After a few more minutes of ‘eyeballing’ for this is all it
seemed to be developing into for the time being; an NVA/VC reconnaissance
party checking out the new neighbour. I climbed off my APC and approached the APC stand-to
commander, a young corporal or lance corporal, to see what he wanted done
about it. I queried as to
giving them a good burst, but his immediate response was that I go and wake
and brief the Cavalry Major …in doing so I also roused Junior in passing.
There was absolutely no shortage of “command” virtually lying
about the place for want of a better word at this time. For apart from 3
Cavalry’s own infrastructure and our patrol commanders, the OC of 2
Squadron, Major Geoff Chipman -
and who were due to relieve us in the very near future - was also along on
his in-country shakedown as a member of Jack’s patrol, and sleeping
alongside an APC with the rest of Jack’s group. The APC Major was an
impressively calm person, listening and checking his watch as I reported,
and his final instructions were that first light stand to was to be brought
forward to 0530, and that was that. Before
he rolled over I asked him what I was to personally do in the meantime,
seeing that my position was closest to the enemy in the set-up. ‘Well what
are they doing now?’ was his query.
‘Well
nothing, just standing there and looking at us’ was my reply.
‘Well,
bloody keep looking back!’ was his final reply. I was as convinced back
then, as I am today, that he was away and snoring well before I had time to
climb back up to the .30 calibre. Something I also did ASAP for what little
was left of the AM after my relief; for the NVA/VC soon faded out like a
done with TV screen and like the Cavalry OC I never had any problems getting
a good night’s sleep on patrol - it's nowadays that this problem often
persists.
We
re-entered the pass bright and early around the 28th and during a
particularly brilliant morning; much brighter than at any time the day
before. The brightness added to
our confidence - as the night had passed without major incident - but also
adding to our alertness, as the lead APC came across enough signs and
footprints to keep the slackest amongst us on the ball. For me, just
glancing upwards to the left towards the Nui Be spot height, was more than
enough to keep me focused. On the odd occasion - not often, as we made our
way deeper into the pass, some of us from the SAS patrols were asked to
dismount and to scout ahead or to double check some piece of evidence or
suspicious sign, and I was amazed to find just how much more confident I
felt away from the noise and clatter and the confinement of the APCs.
But also very happy to have them close at hand all the same.
This time, we made sure we went past our mistake of the PM before,
but around approach to our drop offs - around midday at a time when we were
considering changing into our camouflaged gear and paints and probably while
on another wet weather side bypass - the lead or second APC threw its near
track on a stump, and bringing the whole convoy to a sudden and grinding
halt. Our APC of 14 Patrol in turn had come to its halt alongside a junction
on the pass. Or, at least whatever bits or pieces of it pertaining at this
point. And with the stem of the
“T” junction a well-used footpath running eastwards and every bit an
enemy track to and from the Nui Be by appearance, Junior quickly called me
to grab Billy Robb, our patrol
medic, and to move down it to provide some flank protection. And which I
immediately did, rubbing some hasty cam cream on my face as I went.
I placed Billy and myself on either side to cover a slight bend in
the track, and although we had gone some 50 metres plus from the APCs,
voices and the ring of an axe could still be made out behind us.
This is why, or perhaps the very reason why it was, that I was
extremely surprised to immediately spot two VC moving in in a completely
non-tactical fashion, and heading towards the sound in question.
And all of this even before I had had the chance to settle into my
new position, I noted. I
immediately realised from the movements of the lead Vietnamese - NVA by all
appearance and this was to prove correct - and the VC in the typical black
pyjamas following, that they either had no idea of our presence at the pass
at the time, or that they estimated the axe-man to be one of their own
woodcutters. But whatever! They were now approaching us and our group in general, at a
fairly rapid pace. The lead VC-NVA
trooper was a big man for a Vietnamese, taller, broader and at around 35
years, dressed in a proper bluish uniform not unlike that worn by the
Vietnamese seamen down at the naval base at Cat Lo on the way to Vung Tau,
and from where the sappers of the VC Recon Company in the nearby Rung Sat
Special Zone swamplands, sometimes ‘acquired’ their gear from. The second man was a typical Vietcong, slim, pale yet wiry,
at around 25 years and wearing Ho
Chi Minh sandals. And although I could clearly identify straps and pack
equipment on the leading enemy, no visible signs of a weapon anywhere was to
be seen on any of them. The
lead VC also had a pair of around 680g sized rusty cans, one in each hand,
and these were later found to hold freshly caught fish.
I
had been working in the Squadron Intelligence Centre for my 1970 tour, with
intelligence gathering (every facet) and the organisation of infiltration
and exfil. of our patrols and liaisons with 9 Squadron RAAF amongst my main
responsibility back at Nui Dat, and now I found this intelligence side
colouring my thinking as it occurred to me, in a sudden rush of blood to the
head - with all the armour and manpower and a direct link to Nui Dat on tap
just a short distance to our rear and a situation unheard of in normal SAS
patrol circumstances - that it would be as near an ideal time as any to
attempt a capture. This would be no easy choice as I had a good position and the
drop on the approaching VC, and although I hadn’t been physically able for
fear of giving our position away to signal Billy, I had absolutely no doubts
as to his back up. Furthermore,
between initial sighting and then, I had only about 45 seconds all up in
which to make up my mind in.
I
allowed the first man to come to within about two metres and challenged him
with an amazingly loud and clear, “Dung Loi!” and which had an
instantaneous effect as it echoed around the scrub - virtually rooting both
men to the spot. Now the mind works in overdrive at times like this.
And although I had achieved my original aim - halted and ordered the
VC to surrender - their minds were still left in a confused state and as I
realised, that they had definitely heard the command and responded, but
hadn’t in actual fact sighted me or anyone else as yet.
So, the next step for me was to ease myself up from a very comforting
log haven and into an upright and exposed position - and which I did,
looking the first VC in the eye; fully hoping that Bill had the second one,
and forcefully but not quite as loudly as before, repeating my initial
command of “Dung Loi” - and also believing by this time that they would
do as they were told.
The
look of utter disbelief and horror that next crossed the VC’s face - as he
fully realised what in fact was going down - was, and is to this day,
unforgettable. And I have often wondered how I must have really looked to
him. As I assure any movie of
TV watcher or anybody else!! That
it’s a whole lot different doing it in real life.
But the next flashes did come in slow motion as if in the movies; as
the NVA soldier clutched at an AK47 tucked away around his back and firing
one handed hip upwards in the same motion as he did; as I watched his spent
cartridges - one after the other from a burst of around seven rounds - arc
majestically through the air to my front before falling away to the ground;
feeling the full blast and muzzle power of his weapon to my left and past
the top of my head; while watching my own heavy 7.62 rounds impacting into
his left torso - left breast down - and spinning him around with effect and
arms and legs moving as if to run; then watching Billy’s burst literally
driving him into the bend, arms and legs still moving in exactly the same
manner. My last glimpses were
that of a pitiful human being, grovelling about on all fours, vomiting out
large volumes of blood. At
least this is how it all passed before me.
While all in the same split second!
I was back on the ground firing at the second VC as Bill - and who
had also been hit in the melee and had gone for the security of the bend
- and then suppressing the whole area beyond it with what I had left
in my magazine to stop any other VC from coming forward as I had seen or
felt, what I imagined more people moving about in the vicinity there.
All this with Les 'Bluey'
Cullen, the 21 scout, and Jack appearing right and left, and also
getting into it, ‘You OK
there, Paddy?’ was Blues’s reassuring shout, which I answered in the
affirmative. ‘And what the f*** were you doing shouting at the bastards
for Paddy?’ from Jack right beside me.
As he puffed and panted and struggled to get his breath as he had
cricked his back while leaping down from the APC. Also with a ‘too much
bloody Intelligence section or what?’ dig thrown in for good measure, as
he smiled and giggled away to himself. ‘F******* horse shit Jack’ was my
half indignant and adrenaline fed reply, ‘ I couldn’t see their bloody
weapons and wanted to grab ‘em and bloody near had the bastards in the bag
aye? That’s f****** what
mate!’. But by which time the
smoke had cleared and revealing two tins like mini goal posts in a back
street football game, an AK47 flat down along the track, and a dark pack
riddled like a sieve nearer the bend. I
also called out my concerns about more probable enemy past the bend, and so
under Billy’s cover and reinforced by Junior, Chippy and Ed
‘Bart’ Mavrick 2I/C 14 Patrol - and heart in mouth as only those who
have had to go forward under what they believed was another man’s lead
right on them would know, we extended line and advanced down on the bend to
clear and secure it. We saw
where our VC’s had been dragged along and then picked up by about half a
dozen others, before being carted off at some speed by appearance.
All in amongst large puddles of blood to the side as well as distinct
blood trails.
On
my way back to the APC to reload my 30 round “panic magazine” and which
I had stuffed down my shirt during the change over, I picked up a handful of
spent 7.62 short AK47 shells off the road and, walking over to where Billy
was still doing his job covering and offering him some as a souvenir - as he
had just had his first contact in country and done extremely well
- and jokingly kidding him as I did, as he selected one, as to why he
hadn’t opened up a bit sooner.
‘Well,
how the f*** could I?’ was his reply, with that slow Billy Robb grin that
would become legend in the SAS, ‘It was like watching the gunfight at the
OK Corral'. And with this
laconic bit of humour, providing just the right pressure release valve to
suit the occasion for both of us. In
fact the top of Bill’s wooden SLR pistol grip had swelled in the humidity
- not an uncommon thing - and he had to force his safety catch onto ‘fire
before anything else.
The
Cavalry OC insisted on an infantry armour follow up, and Blue and I elected
as scouts. But it soon proved a futile exercise in the ever closing slope's
edge and
Although
I fully understood the principles involved, it always seemed incongruous to
me that humble men encased in wafer thin shirts and with thinner skins
still, should have to work ahead of these lumbering armour plated giants
like that which an APC or any armoured vehicle represented.
But that’s how it all went! And
I always suspected that it really came down to the dollar value.
Then with all VC signs becoming harder and harder to spot under the
ever-dimming light of the jungle canopy, and with the fading light itself
becoming a problem, Blue signalled me over for a conflab.
And 'what bloody tracks, where?’ was the immediate and joint
consensus, as we gave the circular hand signal to indicate a turn about.
But about this time a signal had come down from the rear anyway,
indicating the same thing, as some of the APC crew had found a large cache
of rice and explosives back at the ‘T’ junction.
It appeared a VC re-supply point; with the goods neatly stashed and
camouflaged on either side of the track and HQ (1 Australian Task Force) was
now interested in the checking of this new situation rather than anything
else. With Jack’s injury
debilitating and with the ongoing activities in the vicinity of our pending
infiltration points, a request was put to 1 ATF regarding the aborting of
our Ops on the grounds that the AOs could by then be well and truly
compromised. But this was met
in the negative. And so we
accepted the umpire’s decision and making good our final prep in the back
of the bouncing APC and heading on down the pass for the grand finale.
Within
hours we were inserted in our AO on the Soi Tram - more or less into the
“V” shape of the west sides of the Nui Be. Also within the hour, at
around 1530, fully aware that we’d acquired a tail’ from the tracker’s
signal shots in the vicinity of our entry point.
And although we had worked hard in covering our entry; an absolute
essential in any SAS patrolling, it was impossible to hide the APC’s
tracks and this was the weakness and we knew it.
Our evasive efforts thereafter - in the even more ever rapidly fading
light - soon found us caught in a used track complex and up against a
suspected VC camp on a spur as well as our tail; but who we hoped, we had
shaken off by then. Earlier on,
we had spotted VC moving about on a SE rise to the front - possibly on a
hill track leading up from the southern most junction of the pass and only a
few clicks to the south - and based on the clinks from dixie’s and other
utensils following, we estimated an enemy transit camp cum outstation. But
be this as it may, we had a relatively comfortable night - I certainly did
anyway and in spite of being put by one of the unavoidable smaller tracks in
the vicinity of my flank’s area. Ian
Bullock’s grinning last night brief, was that a passing VC would
surely kick me in the head and so the alarm raised.
And Ian, a good mate, was now running 21, as Jack had to return to
Nui Dat with the APCs for treatment on his back.
He was also my new “on the spot” patrol commander as well.
As earlier on I’d been asked to change over to 21 to take Jack’s
place; a most unusual occurrence in the SAS, as each patrol studies their
specific AO’s, rehearsed different drills as a rule and geared for the
particular job on hand. In
fact, I had had to refer to a strange AO on a borrowed map, as we settled
down for the night. But it really wasn’t a big deal, just an other point to
come to grips with. But whichever! Our
patrol was now Ian, Geoff Chipman, Blue Cullen, National Serviceman and
"Australian" journalist Bill
Grey, and myself. But still
unbeknown at the time however, was the fact that Bill and I would be sharing
the precarious fold out blades of a Jungle Penetrator winch seat under
somewhat more aggravated circumstances the following day.
The
next morning, the 29th, was a typical one of ‘first light’ and other
drills and out of the tracks and on towards the spur, but it also developed
by around 1300 hrs that we had only temporarily shaken off our tail of the
previous day. To a degree it was expected and had come to a head and did,
after a relatively calm Nui Be midday LUP - and as we tried to close with
the camp - and at which point we were forced to ambush our shadowy half;
with the claymore blasts sending at least a couple of black clad bodies
hurtling back down the hill. Then
in a number of rapid jungle moves and flanking fire skirmishes.
In my case also throwing more grenades than at any other time of my
service. And during which the
lead chopper coming into assist also drew AK47 fire from the vicinity of our
old LUP. We were extracted by
JP winch in the way best described by the clear clinical tones of
9 Squadron RAAF's ‘Summary of Events’ Log for 1970 and from which
I quote:
‘
29th. December 1970 - SAS call
sign 21 were encountered by enemy and requested immediate extraction from
YS817861. The lead chopper had
unfortunately become unserviceable and required an A/O swap.
Albatross 02 (Sqn Leader D.C. White,) and Albatross 03 (Sqn Leader R.
Klitscher RNZAF) were scrambled
in company with the light fire team. On
arrival at the contact area, SAS had 2 VC KIA and the LFT commenced
suppression on a suspected enemy camp SSE of the patrol. Albatross 02 with
03 covering him then commenced a winch extraction of the five-man patrol.
During the winch, the patrol reported light automatic fire aimed at
the chopper and Bushranger 71 (Flight Officer W. Bowen,) and 72 (Flight
Officer D.C. Freedman.) As the chopper completed the winch and the B/R’s
had timely expended and before leaving the area, marked the target with
smoke for the Jade A/C’
At
the bottom 31st. December 1970 entry of Squadron’s log sheet it commented
that with the squadron averaging 1236 air hours per month, that November had
been the heaviest with a total of 1443 and just another subtle sign perhaps
- who knows! About how the war was eventually to pan out for us in the long
run.
