|
|
|||||
 |
Dong Toan, Dong Cho, Ba Ho, Cua, were once unfamiliar names even to the Vietnamese. Hearing them for the first time, one immediately thinks of thick jungles, mysterious, and haunted places and deadly waters. But to the Marines these names, mean something very different.
A few hours in a GMC rolling along a bumpy road leading away from Ai Tu base, you get to Cua. It is a name without meaning, a barren name. But in reality, Cua was far from barren - jackfruits ripened all year round. Wild vegetables (tau bay) grew everywhere, making it very easy for the Marines to cook with the canned meat. And there were plenty of beautiful slim girls carrying their wares on bamboo sticks over their shoulders, inviting the “Sea Tigers” to taste and buy the food.
About 10 km west of Cua, there were two barren hills. Midway up, a bridge linked the two mounds. On top of the hills, there was a system of trenches, bunkers, fox holes, block houses...surrounded by barb wire. It was Base Dong Toan, where the 4th Marine Battalion, at the beginning of the Summer of 1972, fought against a much larger NVA force.
In March 1972, the 4th Battalion was divided into two: the Alpha Command Group and the Bravo Command Group. Lieutenant Colonel Tran Xuan Quang, the leading “Shark”, commanded three companies positioned at Dong Toan.
I belonged to Company 1, and my platoon was ordered to stay in a small hill, not far away to act as the outpost for the entire base. There were many signs revealing the presence of enemy reconnaissance groups. In a search and destroy patrol, the 1st Company detected an ammunition bunker full of B-40 and Beta explosive. The enemy were prepared to take a great risk in targetting the site.
At 8.00 the next morning, my platoon was ordered to go down the hill to protect the water source. Only one squad was left to man the hill, After having thoroughly searched the area, Second Lieutenant Giang divided us into small groups and bade us hide along the stream.
Suddenly, the gun shots were heard from the direction of the 3rd platoon which was carrying out activities along the path joining Dong Toan and Ba Ho. The noise increased. Minutes later, we heard over the PRC-25 radio that the 3rd Platoon had been ambushed. Its condition was unknown. Second Lieutenant Giang ordered:
“The Company commander wants us to go and reinforce the 1st Platoon. Try your best and be careful. The stream will be taken care of by other Marines. The 2nd Squad - lead the way!”
His voice lowered, his face became stern, his lips tightened, and his beard stood erect like a porcupine's spike on the defence. Sergeant Tho immediatedly directed his squad:
“Hurry up! Quoc, you go first.”
Quoc quickly arranged his belt, aimed the point of his gun forward, and climbed up the slope. We all hurried after. Our brothers-in-arms were in danger, so we took no heed of the bumpy rocks, the swipes from the tree branches.
The noise of firearms became louder and louder. Tho overpassed us to catch up to Quoc. Pointing in front, he said:
“We are close to the ambush area now... Be careful not to kill the Marines by mistake, and don't get shot by your brothers either. Our 2nd Lieutenant has informed Platoon 1 of our coming. ”
Quoc did not answer. He turned his head to the left, then to the right to scan the area. He was the best in our squad. We continued forwards whilst bullets whistled pass. Suddenly, Quoc squatted, and gave the signal to stop. Platoon 1 was just 50 metres ahead. We spread horizontally, and joined our friends under heavy fire. The First Platoon leader, Second Lieutenant Phong and four other Marines had been killed. Their bodies were still caught in the cross-fire.
Second Lieutenant Giang ordered:
“Fire machine gun “60” to the right. Don't fire M-79. Fire M-16 directly in front. Start firing now!”
We hid behind rocks and tree trunks and shot back at them. The sound of the two machine guns were music to my ears. There were so many bushes that we were unable to use th M-79. That was a real pity!
“Charge!” Second Lieutenant Giang ordered. We all stormed forwards. Platoon 1 stayed behind to provide coverage.
“Tho, be careful of mines and traps to your left.”
“Sir, I've warned my soldiers.”
After half an hour, the enemy fled, leaving nine bodies behind and a few weapons.
“F... the bloody Yellow stars [the communists]!” Warrant-Officer Thi, the Platoon Assistant Leader swore.
“How are your men?” Second Lieutenant Giang asked.
“Hai, in the 3rd Squad was killed. Sanh and Thiep in the 1st Squad are slightly wounded.”
“Collect all firearms, take our killed and wounded back to base! We will form a circle around you to provide protection. Quick before they start the shelling.”
Warrant Officer Thi saluted his superior. He confided in his soldiers that he admired the Second Lieutenant's coolness under pressure.
The NVA started shelling us not long after. Salvos from 82mm mortars exploded near our defensive circle. Rocks and soil flew everywhere. Warrant Officer Thi's men reached base safely, and we withdrew back to our outpost. My squad, the 2nd in the platoon was sent to another hill to keep watch for the whole platoon, I only had time to eat some spoons of rice before I had to go and set the mines around the position before dusk.
The foxholes were already there, we only had to repair some defects. The enemy shelling intensified, pounding Base Dong Toan. The whistle of enemy artillery came from all directions. I recognized several types of guns. There were 130mm long range artillery, 75mm and 82mm recoiless rifles, 122mm rockets...Explosions thundered everywhere.
The Sergeant of the platoon said:
“Down into your fox holes now.. we have to be alert all night. Save your grenades only for when you see them. Don't be wasteful.”
The evening came. Everytime the enemy shellings hit the hills, flashes of light appeared. The Marine Artillery at Cua started giving fire support, but since the enemy artillery exceeded ours, it wasn't very effective.
Sergeant Tho said: “They are going to charge up the Battlion positons."Then he swore: “The tactics of shelling then charging of you bloody NVA is so outdated!... Why bloody use it?”
He warned us to keep a close eye on the surrounding areas.
I stood up, holding a grenade, eyes peeled. Nothing! Only old tree stumps, cut short by the shelling stood quietly in the ephemeral light created by flares. On the other side of the hill, the enemy shouted: “Marines, surrender now! Otherwise, we'll kill you all.”
We answered with our grenades and M79 fire. I heard commanders on both sides ordering their soldiers. The fighting lasted an hour. We succeeded in repelling many waves of enemy attack. Their shouts lessened, and eventually only the noise of our M-60 machine guns and our personal M-16 was left.
The first NVA attack was thus repelled, but they continued to harrass us throughout the night. Sergeant Tho predicted that the second wave of attack would come at dawn as the foggy conditions had prevented helicopters from supplying us, and fighter jets from bombing the enemy.
We poured water into our dried cooked rice bags. All eight in my squad began drooling, longing for a cigarette. We couldn't smoke at night during the battle.
It was as the Sergeant predicted. Their second wave of attack started at 5.00 am, with the same tactics. The marines just waited until they reached the prohibited area... then we pushed the buttons to set off the Claymore mines. For good measure, thirty M-67 grenades were thrown in. That was our solution to “human wave attacks”. The enemy had to swallow the bitter pill - yet they still stupidly persisted. For the second time they were defeated. At daybreak, when the fog cleared under the sunlight, they changed their tactics. Using all kinds of recoiless rifles, they fired at our above-ground bunkers. One of our best bunkers was destroyed, and six American signalmen were caught inside. Helicopters could not land because of the anti-aircraft weapons and jet fighters could not help in the least because the enemy were too close to us. A group of NVA soldiers slowly crawled up the side of the slope, hoping to pierce our defensive line. My squad clearly saw them, as they were no more than 200m away. Sergeant Tho sent two Marines to report that the enemy had made an attempt on the platoon. The two returned with a machine gun.
“Why did you bring that?” Sergeant Tho asked.
Corporal Thanh, wiping his sweaty forehead answered:
“To fire at fleshy targets. It's rare that we have clear access to them ... where are they?”
Sergeant Tho led them to a foxhole with a view on the slope of Dong Toan, to show them enemy concentrating spots.
“Fire at them. Have you received anything else from the Authorities?”
“The Great Eagle wants them annihilated so that other Marines can fire M-79's down.”
Thanh squeezed the trigger. Enemy bodies rolled down and down the slopes.
“Continue...” Sergeant Tho shouted gleefully.
Thanh tightened his lips, and calmly executed his orders. The result was that the NVA retreated to seek cover. The M-79's rained down own them.
Bay, “The Turkey”, who was in the same squad with me, lit a cigarette and said:
“I wish the M-16's could be used...then I'll get my go.”
The NVA plan to raid us was foiled, but they had succeeded in finding our positon. Not long after, 82mm mortars fell on our little hill. Corporal Thanh returned the machine gun back to the platoon. Other mortars rained down.
Sergeant Tho shouted:
“After this salve, they'll try to crawl up. Be watchful.”
We were all prepared for them, but they did not dare come up. We decided to eat in our foxholes. Spoons of rice and canned meat were hastily wolved down. I barely had time to savour the food. I gulped down some water, then raised two fingers to my lips indicating I needed a cigarette. Tho shook his head, and pointed to the rucksack outside our foxhole. I darted out and filched the cigarettes out of the pocket. As I did so, I heard the departing sound of a 75mm recoiless rifle. As I dove headlong into my foxhole, I heard Tho shouting “Get In!”
I fell into my foxhole, my head jarring against the wall. That very instant, an explosion burst right where the rucksack was - and literally took our breaths away. A second one burst right outside my foxhole. I saw stars, and my ears rang for ages afterwards. I anxiously looked around for my friends as I wiped the dust from my face and uniform.
Turkey looked back anxiously at me and said: “Are you O.K.”
He wanted to jump out of his foxhole to come to my aid. I was deeply touched. Only in such moments of danger can you truly appreciate the bond between brothers-in-arms. I waved his offer aside and told him to stay put.
“I'm fine. Don't come out, otherwise it will be your turn. They are closely watching us.”
I threw the packet of cigarettes to him. ” Share it amongst yourselves. I've got some for myself.”
Turkey laughed: “Just like the movies... you were so fast.”
When Bay had first joined the battalion, he had refused to eat canned turkey, claiming that it always gave him urinary. Immediately we called him “Turkey”, and it stuck. Though he had such a ridiculous nickname, he had a very poetic soul. One cold day, in base C2, he came to my bunker with a bottle of cognac which was a quarter full. After a couple of gulps, he sang a Tang Dynasty poem:
Drinking red wine out a jade goblet
Music of a string instrument urging departure.
If I'm dead drunk on the battlefield,
Laugh not, for no one has ever returned.
He added, “When we were still in Rung Cam [Marine Corps base], I accidentally picked up an empty cigarette packet with two phrases on it:
“Who can raise thousands, and thousands of pounds? Who can compare to the Marines?”
So to finish the poem, I added:
“The
Fierce Tigers and the Killer Sharks,
Masters of the mountain and the sea,
We the Marines will march over the nation.”
We became friends after that.
The enemy started to directly attack our platoon position. They used machine guns and recoilless rifles to buy time for their infantry men to climb up the slope. Suddenly, they stopped firing... their comrades half-way up, stood up and started charging up the hill, shouting.
From my squad position, there was a small path connecting with the platoon. The slopes were about 60 degrees. The NVA were in green uniforms, which camouflaged well with the surrounding trees. Holding AK 47m they moved upwards, hiding from tree to tree. Many slipped and fell downhill. M67 grenades and Claymore mines along the path exploded. I fired my M-79, and Turkey used grenades. It was noon and I could see quite clearly. I sent some very accurate rounds at the enemy, and I had plenty of time to provide supporting fire to my friends. Stationed on the hill, we rarely used firearms- grenades were more useful. We had a huge stock of grenades. Although they suffered heavy losses, the rest continued to move slowly upwards, throwing Betas (a type explosive) as they went. Our brothers in arms used M-16's against them. The enemy hid behind trees, and did not dare to ascend further. The fighting continued into the afternoon.
The smoke from the guns and explosives mixed with the foul odour from the NVA bodies. I looked at my friends. Their eyes were reddened, their faces gaunt. But several tense days under all sorts of weather had not daunted them yet.
Silence. Silence, however, did not mean that the enemy were defeated. It was merely a ploy to lull our suspicions so they could assault at night. As for us, we were busy planning a new defence. Sergeant Tho ordered us to simultaneously fire at suspected hideouts. We were also told to throw grenades into all bushes within range. When all that was met with silence, we were satisfied that they had retreated downhill.
I placed by M-16 across my thigh and smoked a cigarette. The sun was about to set behind the jungles and mountains.
That night, fog covered the entire hill. The enemy artillery decreased but occasionally, they fired recoiless rifles at our position. Sergeant Tho ordered us to exchange foxholes, and to make them safer.
I was assigned to go up to the path and take care of it. These measures were to avoid letting the enemy know where we were. Tho was an old fox on the battlefield. His entire life was devoted to the military. He could preempt enemy activities, and was familiar with the tactics of each NVA unit. He crawled to each foxhole, encouraging soldiers to try their best, as the enemy was likely to be more ferocious under the mantle of darkness. At 8.00pm bombs shook the ground. Then came another thunder clap.
We all rejoiced: B52's!!
In a stern voice, Tho said:
“Be careful now, they will climb up right now to evade the bombardment.”
Indeed, after a quarter of an hour of B52 bombardment, we saw them climb uphill under the light of our flares. But they had lost their previous ferocity. In order to avoid the deadly bombardments, they were forced uphill. They much prefered the kinder death waiting for them to the dreaded annihilation from the bombs. The enemy were in complete chaos, struggling against each other to get up higher. The noise of our M-67 and their Betas mixed. I lost count of the rounds of M-79 I fired. I only remembered that I downed three of them with one swipe to the left, and three more with the swipe to the right. B52 bombs exploded around them.
Late that night, the fighting abated. My mouth was dry and bitter. My lids were as heavy as lead. I lent against the wall of my foxhole and gulped down water. If I had had the chance to sleep, I would have slept like a log. But the enemy were still about. Sleeping then would have been dangerous.
Three shots rang out from the direction of the path. It was the platoon signal. Tho fired in answer, and crawled with Quoc towards the path. A moment later, they returned. Lowering his voice, Tho said:
“We have fifteen minutes to prepare to move to Cua...Battalion's orders.”
Only then did he tell me that Turkey had been killed in action. During the fighting, Tho had crawled to each of our foxholes to provide support and encouragement. When he found that Turkey had been killed, he took his position and continued to fight.
I went to the foxhole, lifted Turkey out, and laid him on the ground. I untied his steel name tag, my hands moist with blood and flesh from the torn chest of my friend. I tried to hold back tears as I gently pulled down his eyelids. He had been killed by a Beta explosive, thrown up when the NVA were trying to ascend. To avoid demoralizing us, Tho had kept silent to the end of the fight.
We had to bury Turkey there on the hill. “Turkey, rest in peace. Burying you leaves us heart-broken. There have been many who sacrificed themselves at Dong Toan, so you shan't be alone. Farewell...” We saluted his grave for the last time and marched down hill.
The way back to Cua was no less dangerous. The NVA were everywhere. The morning sun pierced through the foliage, creating sparkling white flowers on the road. Dong Toan became a hazy image in the distance. My unit quietly moved on. I suddenly saw Turkey's verse ”...The Fierce Tigers and the Killer Sharks, Masters of the mountains and the sea, We the Marines will march over the nation...” beautifully written on the helmet Quoc was wearing.
“Where did you get that?” I demanded.
“We exchanged helmets when we moved down the hill... and now, I'm wearing it in memory of him.”
|