Haunting
memories of brave comrades
J.
Stryker Meyer
North County Times
When
I die, if the Lord gives me a moment to reflect before I breathe my
last breath, my first thoughts will be not of my loved ones, nor my
children.
I'll reflect on and thank God for Sau, Hiep,
Phouc, Tuan, Hung, Son,
Quang, Chau, Cau and Minh. Captains Tuong and Thinh and lieutenants Trung
and Trong will follow them in my thoughts.
Then, I'll think of my loving wife, our talented and unique children, and
our folks.
Why the Vietnamese men before my loved ones?
Without the courage, strength
and fearless verve as combatants in America's secret war in Southeast
Asia, I wouldn't have returned to the United States.
Today, on the 25th anniversary of the fall of
Saigon, I'll pause to salute those warriors, men most Americans will never
hear about, including the more than 3 million U.S. troops sent to South Vietnam during
America's longest and costliest war.
There are many who do not respect or salute the Vietnamese who
fought in
Vietnam. That's because our country has failed to educate them about the
Vietnamese, the country they sent us to and its history and customs. As
Green Berets, we fought side by side with them, laughed with them and
learned about their families, their dreams and hopes and fears.
The first group were members of Spike Team Idaho,
a reconnaissance team
that ran classified missions into Cambodia, Laos and North Vietnam under
the aegis of the Military Assistance Command Vietnam, Studies and
Observation Group ---- SOG. Green Berets, Navy SEALs and U.S. Marine Corps
Force Reconnaissance troops manned several special operation commands
throughout South Vietnam.
I joined Spike Team Idaho in May 1968, after six members of the
team
disappeared in a Laos target area. Three U.S. Green Berets and three
Vietnamese mercenaries were never heard from again and remain listed as
missing in action today. By '68, Idaho operated out of Phu Bai, 10 miles
south of Hue. In May, there were 30 recon teams there. By November, Idaho
was the only operational team left in camp. The enemy troops in Laos,
Cambodia and North Vietnam were well-trained, fearless and well-equipped.
Captains Tuong and Thinh and
lieutenants Trung and Trong were helicopters
pilots who flew Sikorsky H-34s in the Vietnamese 219th Helicopter Squadron
for SOG. Time and again, they flew the older H-34s, which we called
"KINGBEES," into landing zones where enemy soldiers tried to
knock them
out of the sky.
For several months in '68, the KINGBEES were the only aircraft
flying SOG
teams "across the fence" deep into enemy territory. In Laos, the
CIA
estimated there were between 30,000 and 40,000 North Vietnamese troops
keeping the Ho Chi Minh Trail open, bringing supplies from the north to
South Vietnam ---- and fighting SOG troops.
During my 17 months on Idaho, we always left targets
under heavy fire from
North Vietnamese troops. The ride home was in KINGBEES and every time we
asked for one, it came, regardless of enemy fire. There are many Green
Berets alive today thanks to the incredible flying skills of Vietnamese
Kingbee pilots. And without the Vietnamese or Montagnard team members,
there would have been more than the 161 killed in SOG operations.
Sau was the Vietnamese team leader on Spike Team
Idaho. When I landed at
Phu Bai, Sau had been fighting for Special Forces nearly five years.
Weighing less than 100 pounds soaking wet, Sau had a remarkable
sixth
sense: He could smell the enemy. In the jungle he moved with complete
stealth and silence, often cursing his larger American
counterparts.
Hiep was the team's interpreter, who
sometimes corrected U.S. troops on
their English, as well as speaking Vietnamese, French and some Chinese.
Phouc, Chau, Son and Hung all signed up with Special Forces
when they were
15 or 16. After hundreds of hours of intensive training, their age didn't
matter as they stood tall in combat.
On Oct. 7, 1968, Spike Team Idaho, after trying to
escape from North
Vietnamese trackers, was attacked by NVA soldiers, who opened fire on full
automatic. Sau had warned they were near. Although none of the Americans
heard anything, Sau, Phuoc, Hiep and Don Wolken were on alert, with their
weapons on full automatic, ready to go.
In those firefights the first seconds are crucial.
The submachine guns we
carried fired 20 high-velocity rounds in 1 1/2 seconds. Sau, Phouc and
Hiep reloaded and drove the NVA back down the jungle-shrouded hill. We
gained fire superiority, but the NVA never stopped coming at us. After a
while, they were firing at us from behind stacks of dead bodies. They came at us from 2 p.m. until dusk, time and again rushing us, trying to
overrun
our position. We had Air Force Phantom jets, Skyraiders and helicopter
gunships dropping bombs, napalm and cluster bombs and make strafing runs.
That was the first time I could recall smelling burnt human flesh.
By dusk, we were low on ammo, hand
grenades and rounds for our grenade
launcher. Capt. Thinh flew his H-34 to a slight rise above our position,
hovering in deep elephant grass ---- thick-bladed grass that grew more
than 12 feet tall. Because the grass was thick and the NVA tried to close
in on us again, it took us several minutes to get to the Kingbee.
When I arrived under it, I looked up
at Capt. Thinh, sitting there looking
as calm as a Rocky Mountain breeze in springtime, and he smiled. Finally,
we were loaded and he yanked us out of there. Sau, Hiep, Phouc and I fired
off our last magazine of rounds and threw our last grenade as we pulled
out of the landing zone, again under heavy enemy fire.
Within a few minutes we were at 4,000 feet,
returning to Phu Bai. We were
safe and unharmed. The Kingbee had 48 holes from bullets and grenades in
its side panels and propellers. The new American on the team quit the next
day. Sau, Hiep and Phouc ate dinner before I arranged for Sau and Hiep to
return to their families that night.
That scene unfolded hundreds of times over the course of SOG's
history.
I
carry a deep, haunting guilt for having left them in South Vietnam.
