I was a Marine in South Vietnam assigned to Kilo Company, Third Battalion, 1st Marines. I was a rifleman in the second platoon, second squad, second fire team. Since arriving in the middle of March, I had walked countless day and night patrols in the area just south of Marble Mountain near DaNang. My Battalion provided outlying security for the US Air Base at DaNang by interdicting Viet-Cong attempts to fire rockets and mortars at the Base. I have no idea how successful we were because the Airbase had a lot of incoming fire regardless of our efforts.
The terrain in which we patrolled was a combination of desert with cactus, scrub pine trees, bushes, and rice paddies. The eastern side of our TAOR (tactical area of responsibility) was the South China Sea from which the VC landed sampans full of weapons in the dead of night. Aside from VC patrols and snipers, our area was full of lethal booby-traps ranging from a simple “panji” pit (a boot sized hole filled with poison-tipped bamboo stakes) to grenade chains (a tripwire connected to several hand-grenades hung in bushes which would detonate about waist-high). Worse were “bouncing betty” types which were buried rifle rounds that would detonate when you stepped on them and fire a charge upwards into your body or detonate an explosive device in the air about chest-high. The absolute worst of the booby traps were command-detonated devices such as claymore mines which when detonated would spread widely dispersed steel balls into an entire patrol, potentially killing or maiming everyone there.
My time in the Infantry ended with a severe heat exhaustion while on Operation Union. All I remember is standing in a rice paddy and the next thing I knew I was aboard a medevac chopper headed to Chu Lai. When we arrived, I tried to stand up but passed out again. It took more than 41 years but it was at our 2008 Kilo Company Reunion at Quantico, Virginia when I met the Company Gunnery Sergeant who had dribbled precious water on my forehead until the medevac arrived. That action may have saved my life. I finally met him at the reunion. It was a very emotional and powerful experience for me.
After a brief stay at the US Naval Hospital in DaNang where I was hydrated and evaluated, I learned that I could “no longer serve in the Infantry nor was I to be assigned to any position requiring prolonged exposure to sunlight and heat”. That news, surprisingly, brought mixed reactions in my mind. One part of me felt tremendous guilt at leaving my Company while the other was relief on several levels. I returned to Battalion Headquarters where I was instructed to get a night’s rest and report to the S-1 (Personnel) in the morning.
Late that night, I was awake and decided to go find a typewriter to send the latest news home to Susan. As I started to type, the S-3 (Operations) Major walked in and observed me for a moment. When I became aware of his presence, I snapped to attention. He asked me my name and said to “carry on”. I finished my letter home and caught some more sleep.
When I reported to S-1 the next morning, I was assigned to S-3. I was surprised to learn that the Major had pulled my file after I left and discovered that in addition to knowing how to type, I had a College degree and had scored high on all my tests. I reported to S-3 immediately. I always tell people that S-3 is where I “grew up”. I was in awe of the job that was assigned to me. When I learned that my work would have a direct bearing on keeping Marines in the field alive, a sense of nearly overwhelming responsibility came over me.
To understand my working environment, you have to understand the function of the Operations Section. S-3 is the military designation for the operations center of a Marine Battalion. In Vietnam, the S-3 prepared the daily operations plan; prepared operations orders if the Battalion was ordered into battle; and coordinated the Combat Operations Center (COC) which was the command, control, and communications “brain” of the Battalion. All intelligence that impacted operations was coordinated by S-3. This was basically an area where you did not want to screw up. The Section in which I would work was headed by a Section Chief, a Sergeant and two other Marines. We had visibility and daily contact with all of the Senior Officers of the Battalion including the Battalion Commander, the Executive Officer, and the individual Company Commanders.
I was assigned to do the daily patrol overlays for the Battalion. The military maps we used were the most current available and were divided into grids. The maps were well detailed with topography, village locations, trails, roads, rivers, streams, etc. Every military command in Vietnam used the same maps so there was little chance of conflict.
The operations process began each morning with the Battalion Commander’s Briefing in which all incoming orders, intelligence, patrol activity reports, and other information were all relayed. Critically important was a daily intel brief which detailed anticipated activities of the local Viet Cong including anticipated movement of the enemy and other tactical information from neighboring Battalions, Air Wing, and any conceivable plans that would impact our TAOR. The Battalion Commandeer issued his guidance and the Company Commanders would prepare their plans of action including patrols, ambushes, interdiction missions, and other plans. These would be returned to S-3 where we plotted out the plans on a tactical map. Once the activities were plotted, we analyzed the planned actions to avoid conflicts among patrol activities; avoid friendly fire onto patrol activities; and ensure that the patrol plans were in concert with the CO’s guidance.
Once the patrol plan was accepted and approved, it was my job to draw up and publish the patrol overlays to the four infantry companies for execution. The accuracy of the patrol overlays were critically important and were thoroughly vetted. The master patrol overlay also went to Artillery and Mortar Batteries, Tank and Amtrac platoons, the Air Wing in DaNang, and Regimental Headquarters. The supporting arms groups planned harassment & interdiction fires around the patrols as necessary or ordered. The overlay could not be wrong PERIOD. Once the overlay was released, we were ready to commence operations.
At any given time, there were between four to eight patrols active within our TAOR. At this point, my (our) job was to be in the Combat Operations Center to monitor the progress of all patrols that were in the TAOR
A typical patrol of that era was composed of a squad leader, 9 riflemen, one or two machine gunner, a radioman, and a corpsman. The composition of the patrol could vary depending on the mission. Each squad leader had their orders including designated radio checkpoints. As the patrol approached a checkpoint, the radioman would relay their position on the map by grid coordinates. That information came into the COC where I plotted their position immediately. It was my responsibility to make sure that the patrol was on plan and not veering away.
The COC had representatives from all Supporting Arms including an air liaison. There was a watch commander, usually a lieutenant, and one or two of us depending on how many patrols were active. The COC was always tense with continual checkpoints being called in by the patrols.
If one of our patrols came under enemy fire or called for fire support, we had to very quickly check to see if the planned fires would jeopardize friendly activity nearby. If we found none, the COC would authorize a fire mission in support of the patrol. All of this was handled in moments. If one of our Marines was wounded due to enemy fire or a booby trap, the radioman called in coordinates and we had a chopper enroute in moments. Everything happened in those ubiquitous “moments”. You hoped and prayed that you “got it right”.
A COC Watch was from 6 to 8 hours although it could go much longer. Once we completed the day, we grabbed whatever rest we could and started it all over the following day.
Years later in Battalion and Company reunions, most of the Marines who had been on those patrols had absolutely no idea that so much was done to “catch their back”.
We had other duties. We often did Listening Posts or morning mine sweeps. Although I had been disqualified from field duty, I could go out on either of these missions.
Listening post duty was drawn every ten days or so. There were five LP’s a night. They were always a three-man team. Since Battalion Headquarters was a primary target for the VC there was always danger of night-time sniper attacks or, worse, a coordinated VC Sapper attack. Sappers were Vietnam’s equivalent of suicide bombers. They would approach in the dead of night and attempt to blow up a target like the COC or S-3. Although the threat was always there, we did not have anything other than sniper attacks while I was in S-3. Listening Posts lasted about four hours and were from 50 to 100 or more meters from the front lines. Each of them was composed of a radioman and two riflemen. We were the first warning in case of a sneak attack. It was a tense four hours where a beach of silence, loss of way, or even failure to apply enough camouflage during a full moon could spell instant death from a sniper.
Mine Sweep security wasn’t fun either. Each morning, a squad of engineers would leave Battalion Headquarters with mine sweeping equipment. They would walk up the Main Supply Route (MSR) to ensure there were no buried mines in the road. The MSR was about four miles long consisting of packed clay . The VC planted mostly pressure-detonated landmines in the clay almost every night and often had snipers to greet the engineers. It was our task to provide flank security for them. Each morning a security team consisting of riflemen, machine gunners, and corpsmen would walk about 700 meters on each side of the road as protection. Each mine sweep lasted about three hours starting about 0500 until 0800 or so. Most our “contacts” were booby traps, sniper rounds, or an occasional VC team who would engage us. The Engineers usually blew up one or two mines. At around 0815, the road would open.
Summer in Vietnam brought the “Monsoon” season which lasts roughly from the end of May to early September. During this time, the heat can be unbearable but suddenly rain could fall like you never thought possible. The Marine Corps never stopped it’s patrol activities because of the Monsoon. If a patrol was “in the bush” and the monsoon rains hit, they would usually kneel in place until the rain let up. Literally, you could not see the person in front of you. The greatest danger outside of booby traps during this time was being carried away by a rush of water similar to the washes in Arizona.
As the summer wound down, I continued my daily responsibilities. I ended the summer with a sense of overwhelming duty to my fellow Marines. I think this experience ingrained a toughness that I had never felt before. All of us in the S-3 offices felt the same way. Regardless of our prior experiences, education, or background, we had all matured both professionally and personally.
jtdraig 