My chest and face hit the mud at the same time, the impact so hard that water was pressed out of my uniform blouse and sprayed up into a fine mist around me. My helmet and liner landed a good five feet away, but I didn’t care, as I fought to take any air at all into my blown-out lungs. If I had been hit then the bullet might well be a terminal blow. A double lung shot with a high velocity bullet was an almost instantly fatal. I’d witnessed the awful damage personally several times. A bullet passing through both lungs left no chance that one of them would ever be re-inflated or repaired in time.
Air sucked back into my lungs in one long inhalation. I breathed again before I could think to do anything. Nguyen’s face appeared out of the dim light and through the misting mess of my water-filled muddy impact.
“Nguyen,” I squeaked out, looking around for the Gunny. I knew it had to have been the Gunny who took me down. How he’d figured out I was about to make a run for it across the open flats I had no idea, as I hadn’t even taken my first step before he hit me.
“The Gunny,” I worked to get out, before breathing in deeply again and going on. “My helmet,” I croaked, trying to scrabble forward.
Fusner slithered across the mud and retrieved my helmet and liner.
“He’s gone, sir,” Fusner said, matter-of-factly, “he came in at a run, put a shoulder into your back, and then ran on out across the flats like you tried to do.”
“He put me down, and then ran himself?” I asked incredulously.
Fusner worked with his bare hands to clean off as much mud as he could from the helmet, before going to work on the liner. He handed both to me, one at a time, the liner first, before answering.
“Looks like he intended to draw whatever fire you were about to get hit with,” he replied.
I looked out over the almost bare clearing, leading up to the front of the canyon wall. There was really nothing to see. I hadn’t heard any AK fire from the enemy or even anything from our own M-60s and M-16s. The Ontos was right where the team had left it, with a few of the company Marines, unidentifiable in the light, looking like they were bent over and working on Rio and Panda. I felt a ray of hope, and then the turret on the Ontos moved to bring the six barrels down a few degrees. The barrels were pointed at the jungle where the damaging small arms fire had come from, but I knew the chambers of the guns were empty.
“The Gunny,” I hissed out. “He’s in the Ontos. We’ve got to get there and load.”
Two more RPG rounds screamed across the flat of mud, their rockets sounding more like jet engines than rockets. One struck just short of the Ontos, throwing up giant chunks of mud, while the other went a bit high, exploding against the face of the cliff wall, tossing out rocks and debris that rained down all around and upon the machine. I started to crawl forward, getting my helmet shakily back on my head.
“We can’t make it without cover, sir,” Zippo said, pulling me back easily, with one hand tightly grasped around my ankle.
“Hell, we’re no better off without cover here than we are crossing to try to get there,” I replied, trying to pull away from his strong securing grip.
“Here, sir,” whispered Fusner, thrusting the radio microphone out to my face.
I frowned and then got it. I wasn’t thinking straight. We had to have covering fire, and the Ontos wasn’t going to provide that in time, not with the disorganized mess of the dead crew, the Marines working on them, and the Gunny inside it and trying to figure out how its controls worked. He hadn’t gotten back out of the Ontos to load himself, and none of the Marines nearby had moved to get rounds and do that either. All we had was the Army 175s.
I called Firebase Ripcord, pulling the map from my right thigh pocket and quickly opening it up. I found the grid coordinate number I wanted still penciled on the surface map. The number I had used before but needed again. I calculated our position. There could be no games played, as to letting the battery know where we were, not with the inherent ‘out beyond maximum range’ inaccuracy of the big gun’s rounds. We were on the gun target line and down in the valley. Any rounds that came in might strike the top of the edge of the valley wall and then bounce down if they didn’t explode from the impact. And we were right where they’d land. Even if they came in ‘red bag’ accurate, the plus or minus circular error of probability was more than likely to be about half a kilometer or more. Missing by half a kilometer within the narrow confines of the southern A Shau Valley wasn’t something to be taken lightly. But the front glacis facing the jungle on the Ontos was only two inches thick. The armor could handle anything up to, and including, .50 caliber machine gun rounds, but it couldn’t handle a direct hit from an RPG. And the Gunny was inside the Ontos. I quickly sent the grid numbers in the clear. The NVA knew where we were and where they were. Using codes no longer mattered. They were going to get plastered by artillery fire and it was best if they knew it was coming, for your needs. Killing them wasn’t nearly as important as keeping them down and from hitting us mid-crossing with even a single RPG round.
Instead of continuing the fire mission using the normal formal command structure I spoke in the clear to the fire control officer.
“We’ve got a tough situation here, Bob,” I started. “We’re down in the valley near maximum range. Your battery is angled off a bit to the west so you can put some stuff down here, but we’re on the ‘GT’ line at max range. We’ve got to take the risk. Can you fire three spaced ranging rounds at maximum elevation? If we get the range we need then I can creep back onto the target.”
“Roger that, Junior,” Bob replied.
I’d called myself Junior at the start of the transmission. Instead of sticking to rank he’d said his name was Bob. From that little bit I knew, he was going to try his heart out to help us if he could.
“We’ve got a ton of ordnance here, Junior,” he said. “Just been waiting for the call. Don’t hold back.”
“Roger that,” I replied, smiling ever so slightly at the Army I’d only heard terrible things about in training but discovered, so far, only wonderful things about.
“Shot over,” came over the radio.
I waited the seconds out, counting on my Omega. The time was too great to bother counting the seconds away in my mind. The 175 had a muzzle velocity of about three thousand feet per second, I knew. Three thousand divided into the twenty-five miles we were distanced from those muzzles. I watched the 40 seconds sweep by before the radio came back with “splash over.” I pushed the front of my body back into the mud. I didn’t have to say a word of warning to my scout team. They’d gone down at the first announcement from the battery. One hundred and seventy-five-pound rounds coming in from distant one hundred and seventy-five-millimeter artillery barrels was frightening.
The four impacts came five seconds later, as if they were one explosion, with three more echoes. I’d asked for three rounds, forgetting the 175s were organized with four guns to a battery instead of six, like the 105s. The fire direction center had fired a battery of one instead of trying to break my request up among the guns.
“Far enough,” I breathed out in relief, pulling my muddy face up and hitting the radio transmit button. The rounds had come in much more than a thousand meters down the valley. “Battery of six,” I ordered.
“Shot over,” came back from Bob. “R.O.T.?” he asked.
“Right on target,” I replied, knowing he already knew that his previous shots had hit with accuracy, but wanting to hear it over the net.
“Drop five zero on the GT line and repeat fire for effect,” I ordered, even before the ‘shot over’ command from the first salvo had been sent back to us.
I knew the FDC knew we were on the gun target line but I didn’t want anyone to forget.
I waited and watched the skyline over the jungle where smoke and debris still settled well to the south in the jungle where the initial rounds had impacted. There were more than a thousand meters separating our company from the impact area. We had to move under what fire we could call. There was only one way to do it.
The six rounds came in, like explosive layers of cake being laid down. Four, and four and then four more. A battery of six took about six minutes, normally, to load and fire that many layers of a ‘cake.’ Ripcord was doing it in three minutes. The Army artillery grunts were extending their personal care right down into the A Shau with us. I could feel it through the radio, and from the effect of their work.
“We’re going to move under your fire, Bob,” I said into the microphone. “You can safely drop five zero ten more times and still give us about 700 meters left over by the time we get to cover.
The ground shook as the second series of salvos came in. The white coronas of condensed moist air and shock-advancing sound blew up from the back of the jungle like giant Chinese lanterns. They were brilliant white in their instantly created and near instantly gone existence. Whatever was under those ‘lanterns’ was living in a deafened and miserable wet hell.
“You’re crossing open ground, over?” Bob asked, but then didn’t wait for my response, “so how about a battery of two continuous, dropping five hundred first, and then working south fifty meters at a time. On my map, it looks like danger close won’t be from our stuff, but from that deep foliage further south of your position.?”
“Roger that,” I replied, using his own radio jargon again.
Bob and his battery support team were smart, and they were removed enough to be objectively logical. We had to cross an open area and needed cover since concealment was out of the question. Bringing the fire closer initially would do a better job of immediately getting the enemy down before creeping the big rounds slowly into their most vulnerable positions.
The rain increased, as if attempting to foil our plan, but the 175 rounds wouldn’t be much affected if at all, I knew.
We waited for the “shot, over” message. We were the remnant. Half a platoon of Marines and our scout team. It was obvious that everyone else had already crossed using the benefit of the lower pre-dawn light. The light level wasn’t low anymore, however, even though the rain might provide some misty concealment. A tiny line of leeches danced before me, their little thin bodies sticking up about an inch from the wet mud, seeming to wave at me.
The ‘shot over’ message came through the radio speaker Fusner had unaccountably turned on. We waited the length of time for the rounds to leave the cannon muzzles and get to our position. I watched the leeches in front of me, knowing I didn’t have to stay attentive for 175 rounds that would be impacting less than a click away.
“One of these days I’m going to leave these clowns,” I whispered, paraphrasing some famous movie line or song lyric I’d heard.
I didn’t crush myself face down again into the mud, although I wanted to. I had to be ready to jump up and run for the cover of the berm three hundred very exposed meters distant.
I held up my right fist, gripping the radio handset firmly with my left, in order to yell “check fire” if the 175 rounds came in among us, not that I would probably be around to make the call if that happened.
“On five,” I ordered, quietly, more to myself than those around me.
“Splash, over,” came from the speaker.
I held up my thumb and then counted off the seconds, putting up additional fingers as I silently thought of the numbers. Upon raising my last finger, I jumped up, and then went immediately back down, dropping the radio handset while cringing into the mud, crushing the little dancing leeches in front of me. Then I was back up, Zippo and Nguyen pushing and pulling at me. I realized I was deaf. The aftermath of the first 175 rounds plummeted from the sky all around me. I knew we’d been at least two hundred meters from the initial hits because we were still alive. I found my balance and ran for all I was worth toward where the Ontos sat, ominously not moving, with several Marines lying face down along the unexposed northern flank of its right track.
I felt the following 175s come down, swearing as I ran, that I would never call such heavy stuff in so close to my own position again. I’d received fire from the NVA by small arms, heavy machine guns and even the Russian provided 106 guns up on the ridge, but I’d never had to endure heavy artillery fire what the U.S. military could provide in the massiveness of explosive killing size or overwhelming delivery in volume.
The bodies of Rio and Panda lay side by side, as I passed by, headed for the cover only the armored body of the Ontos could provide. Both bodies looked like they’d been worked over by the corpsmen, and both lay back down with their permanent stares directed up into the falling rain that had effectively taken away the bloody signs of their mortal small arms injuries.
“Junior,” I heard, as if from a distance, but it wasn’t. Sugar Daddy grabbed my left arm and pulled me behind the Ontos, and then down onto the surface of the mud.
“How long we got? The artillery’s pounding the hell out of them.”
I tried to clear my head and think. The Gunny. Reloading the Ontos. My scout team. The disjointed mess of where I was and what we were trying to do came cascading back.
The double doors at the back of the Ontos opened fully, and the Gunny stepped out, carrying one tubular boxed round of 106 ammunition. From behind me Sentry appeared and took the tube from the Gunny’s hands. He pressed his back into the door, held in place by its hold-open latch, and pulled the long 106 round from its black tubular box. I knew from his facial expression, or rather the lack of it, that he’d passed by the dead bodies of his teammates right after I had.
We began to work like a silent machine, the sound of the distant rushing river, the pounding of every more distant artillery rounds and the constant pattering of misty rain on our helmets the background ‘music’ for what we were doing. We all worked back and forth across the sloppy mud; reaching in, pulling out, and then stripping the recoilless rounds out of their cardboard sleeves, before moving to feed them to Sentry for loading. Only Sentry was familiar with the guns themselves. The Marines working around me made no move to touch the guns unless at Sentry’s instructions.
I eased up onto the whitish floor of the Ontos, it’s interior stained with splashes of reddish-brown mud. There was no seat, and the extra rounds Rio had substituted for it had been pulled out the back, so I squatted down, my knees bent just enough so I could press my right eye into the soft rubber grommet of the gunsight. I stared out through the brilliant scene of wet green and yellow jungle to the front of the vehicle. The mud was a hazy out-of-focus brown rug. The motor was still running I noted, with the return of most of my hearing capability. I hit the turret handle and rotated the guns a few degrees each way before adjusting up and down. The range increments were painted into the inside of the sight reticle. Each one I presumed to be indicative of one hundred meters, but I wasn’t sure.
I waited, once I’d adjusted the little white sighting lines for three hundred and fifty meters, or so. I thought about the Gunny, and why he’d holed up in the Ontos for so long without moving, not that he could have done much to load or fire the guns by himself. The inside of the Ontos was a complexity of buttons, knobs, and handles, with only the tall white track-braking handles being self-evident for what they did. I couldn’t drive the Ontos, or service it anyway, but I’d figure out how to operate the turret and aim and fire the guns. If the Gunny had stayed inside to hide out from the enemy like I had a time or two in holes, caves or under nearby brush, then why had he chosen the Ontos to hide out in, what with the more protective frontal cliff berm just to its rear? It made no sense. The Ontos was total protection against the small arms fire that had killed Rio and Panda, but it was a magnet for much more dangerously terminal hits from the RPG B40 rockets.
I waited until Zippo slapped me on the back. I turned to see him holding up two hands with six fingers showing. The guns were loaded, but I could not fire with any Marines directly behind the machine within fifty meters. Sentry pumped his clenched fist up and down twice from his position behind Zippo. I instinctively knew I was cleared to fire.
I waited. I stared into the large single lens sight, the jungle across the relatively short stretch of open flat mud fully visible in spite of the misting rain. The company’s Marines were getting set into the shallow natural cave crease that ran along the crack at the cliff’s bottom. We’d made it across the river, and then across the mud flats and, following the end of the artillery barrage, there wasn’t much the NVA could do. Except to attack. If I was the leader of the NVA forces, deafened, hurt and angry inside the seemingly decimated jungle density beyond, then I’d be preparing to attack at the earliest opportunity, before enemy machine guns were properly emplaced, field mortars set up, and the Marines focused and ready to receive an attack.
There’d been no fire attempted or delivered onto us when we were reloading the Ontos guns, and we’d been as visible as the earlier crew.
I presumed we’d not been fired upon because the NVA was readying its attack in force. I pulled from the sight briefly to look out the back, through the two open doors of the Ontos. I saw four heads sticking up over the berm, off to the northern side. Zippo and Fusner stared out, with the Gunny set between them and Sentry. Sentry saw my look and held up first six fingers and then two thumbs. I got his message. He was ready with two loads of six more rounds, when needed, for the 106 guns.
I returned to staring through the sight, seeing the jungle and the mud before it, and thinking about the two bodies of the Ontos crew, now staring forever up into a raining sky they’d never see again. They’d accepted the danger and gone anyway, across the bridge, over the mud and then out into it to fearlessly load more rounds. For the first time, I wondered how a company commander wrote up Marines for decorations. The two men deserved big ones.
And then they came. Three broken lines of brown and black-clad bodies, hunched low but moving fast. They moved directly at the position where I sat and then began veering to one side before coming back and to the other. They looked like giant centipedes.
I eased the turret down to hold the range steady at two hundred meters, the stock setting for the flechette rounds to explode. The fuses were adjustable, but I hoped and presumed nobody, in the haste to reload, had changed any of the fuse settings. The enemy maneuvered. No Marines fired. Everyone along the bottom of our cliff was immobile and ready.
I waited, my right eye sealed into the rubber grommet of the gunsight, my left hand poised over the six big firing buttons.
You readers should know the NVA took Firebase Ripcord.
Well, they do now from your entry here Jim. Ripcord fell later in the war, however, and it did not so much fall as it was
strategically abandoned because the NVA put such an emphasis on getting rid of it that casualties were constant. No artillery
field unit in Vietnam, or since, has been over run following the introduction of flechette rounds.
Semper fi, and thanks for the data…
Jim
Another chapter that ended too soon. I so wanted to pull the trigger on that Ontos. Thank you for you kind comments on the Army, my alma mater. I once flew commercial seated next to a Marine Colonel. We were both in uniform and of course couldn’t resist conversation. He totally surprised me with his comment about how tough the Army was an his respect for us. Now for a ranking Marine it was a complete shock. I expected the usual “friendly” banter. He explained that he was in the Pacific during WWII hoping islands. He said that the Marines hit the beaches and went through the island like “shit through a goose”, and out the other side. Then the Army had to come in and secure it. That was the hard part routing the Japs out of their strongholds and tunnels. It was a conversation that this old sergeant never forgot. We love to one up and put each other down but its done from a position of great respect. Semper Fi Marine!
Isn’t that the truth, although I don’t think the Marines of WWII went through the islands quite so easily as shit through a goose! At Iwo 70,000 went in and only
44,000 came out uninjured and about ten percent of everyone who stepped on that island died, not including Japanese. But the true feelings of those Marines and Army who’ve
served together is much more positive than the mythology or the peacetime rumor mill presents. Thanks for the comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
I am glad I started reading the accounts of your time in country. For many years I tried to bury my time there (still do). As Marines we were trained to move by instinct. Don’t stop to think just move.
PTSD is a serious problem for many. I have been told to stop living in the past. How do they know what you have seen and had to do.
I have started getting counseling thru the V/A.
Your stories led me to seek help. I THANK YOU! I will be buying your book, not to live it over, but to aid in my recovery.
Keep them coming! Semper Fi. Al
Some guys are making “T” shirts with ‘Strauss’s Army’ on them. I can’t believe it.
I don’t know whether to laugh or what.
I am writing this in regards to your
comment about my helping you and your seeking some therapeutic treatment with respect to PTSD.
Thank you for that humbling compliment. I am so happy that I might be of
help. I’m unsure how most things I write in the story will be taken so I try not to let that affect me.
Your story effects me. In a good way. I will keep on keeping on because of guys like you.
Thanks so much for sharing this with us all…
Semper fi,
Jim
PS. they are making some ‘T’ shirts in pink for women!!!!
Another great chapter LT. Met a guy who was doing those 175s at the Rockpile (I think) in 70-71. Thought of you and your guys. So glad my Army came through. Note…did not have time to read all the comments but you mention the Soviet supplied 106 MM guns on the cliff…
did you not mean 122 MM? That was the standard light artillery piece as I recall (along with the 122 Katuska rockets) and I know some were located along the DMZ and were even captured by Marines. Guess I could look it up but it looks like a mistake to me. I am awed that you are able to write like this and do such long convoluted answers to our convoluted posts.
Yes, I did mean 122. My mind was stuck in the 106 groove because of the Ontos weaponry. Thanks for that and I will edit that most haste.
Without you guys and your ‘convoluted’ posts this story would probably have ground to an agonizing halt sometime back….
I cannot thank you enough…and the Army was a wonderful to us at ever turn…
Semper fi,
Jim
And I forgot to mention the 122 mm heavy Soviet mortar rounds. Sorry, old EOD guy, who still has pictures of that stuff in my cored out old head. Can’t remember what the ol’ lady told me to do 5 minutes ago, but remember the internal diagram of a 524A1 fuse for an 81 mm mortar round. (Warning, watch out for and impinged striker working loose and ruining your day, like a buddy I know that was cleaning up an ammo dump after Tet 69.
I heard of the 122 howitzer they had from the Russians but I never heard of or experienced the 122mm mortar. But there was a lot of stuff sent to that
war that nobody seemed to know much about unless they were using it. I still get vets here who insist that the Army never had the Ontos, and I cannot prove
anything anymore except I know our Ontos was from the Army and not the other way around. I don’t know how that came to be or what happened to it.
Thanks for the information and sorry about your friend.
Semper fi,
Jim
I tried to enlist in the USN on 9/1/63 as I had been working for a newspaper in NYC and my union went on strike. After 3 months my money was gone and I was bored out of my skull. I failed my medical, something involving albumin in my urine and consequently my draft status changed from 1 A to 1 Y. I never got into the service. On 10/2/64 I was sworn into the Police Department of the City of New York as a Patrolman. For the next 20 years I would be working a crazy schedule around the clock and with few days off. I rose through the ranks to Lieutenant and I finally retired with 20 years service on 10/2/84. I had many situations over the years which involved the use of physical force and the use of deadly physical force. All I can say is that when you get into the serious shit you will revert to your training automatically and time will slow down to a crawl. Another thing; people do not generally fall right down when shot with a handgun. They might flinch, slow down or stagger some but most continue in their chosen behaviour for a time. There was real fear in policing a city like NY and we faced it every day. However when the situation goes South we performed our duty without fear and saved our shakes and sweating over the fear when the incident is over.
My wife who lived in our home in Massapequa, did not have a clue about my job than as a Sergeant in the 9th Precinct on the Lower East Side of Manhattan. One Christmas season we threw a party for the kids of the precinct and I invited my wife and daughter to come. After the party she and my daughter were sitting in the back seat of my cruiser and we are tooling along AVE B when a Molotov Cocktail smashes into the hood of the car and we endure the flames and smoke and heat. At least it was winter and the windows were closed so no danger to the occupants although the rear tires did burn out about 7 blocks later and the car was totally destroyed along with my attache case. My wife went ballistic and screamed at me for putting her and our daughter in such danger. I explained that we usually lost one cruiser a month to firebombing and we are used to it. She could not leave Manhattan fast enough. When I got home that night she came at me again and again about the experience. I explained to her that this was my job and that I worked in this crappy precinct so I could have a nice home and family away from this. She from that moment on thought I was crazy but that she now had a better understanding of me but that I was still crazy. Maybe I was? From that time on I stopped talking about my police experiences except to other cops who could understand.
It is difficult to bring those experiences home.
Wives are by and large totally built from the ground up to worry, work and think about the family.
They guard and protect, us as well as the rest of the family members.
This kind of experience has been happening to men ever since we went out to hunt and the women
stayed back at the fire to gather, tend and care for the family. There is no solution, as the problem is called life.
Thanks a lot for the portrayal of your life and experiences on here.
Your writing is very touching yet clear.
Semper fi,
Jim
As usual I got dust or something in both eyes thinking about the waste of life and limb, and the heroism of these guys; many of the comments from others add to my internal agony. No,I was not in direct combat like you guys, but I tried my level best to help protect you by turning aircraft as rapidly as possible, loaded with appropriate ordinance. I also saw the results of some of of the battles while a patient in a medivac hospital. Some of those kids visit me in the middle of the night to this day! I will never forget them! Semper fi Jim
Thanks Joe, for you and the guys and gals like you who did the unsung and often boring and hard-working jobs of
trying to take care of the rest of us out there in the shit. Most of us knew and those of us who survive understand that to this day.
Semper fi, my friend,
Jim
As a former Infantry guy in the Air Force, I spent a bit of time in’68/69 with the Marines and Army guys helping with communications. Saw just enough combat to appreciate your writing. I still sweat some of the stuff and am glad it was only a bit. Thanks LT.
I’m glad for you too Norm. I don’t begrudge the guy who missed most of the ‘action’ because the guys who did are mostly not among us anymore.
Thanks for laying it out straight and true and for writing it on here…
Semper fi,
Jim
My first read, a friend sent me the link. VN 68-69 Big Red One Quarter Cav. I had my first contact with the 175’s within days of arrival. Was fueling an ACAV. Heard fire mission, didn’t think much about it until I found myself spread eagle on the ground. Asked the short timer track commander weather it was incoming or out going. He and the tail gunner got a good laugh out of that. Thought it had rearranged my internal organs. Will be waiting for the next chapter. Great accounting, keep up the good work!
that is funny, about the outgoing or incoming thing.
First days in country could be filled with weird experiences for sure.
Thanks for that and thanks for the compliment of reading and then writing about that on here.
Semper fi,
Jim
James, Sir, have waited to comment. Wanted to see what the effect of powerful words would be on the hearts and minds of your true brothers. They are still responding to the chance to download more of that shitty baggage their service left them holding. Your selfless service to them continues. Thank you. I am little apprehensive about the next chapter. My friend, Buck once tried to explain what he saw when some of the gun crews were sent on patrol to see what might be beyond the wire after a full on rush by the enemy while they were in the middle of multiple fire support missions. Words like max depressed elevations and flechettes have stayed with me a lot since his passing. God bless you and all your brothers. Poppa J
Thank you Poppa J. You words are usually very well crafted and thought out. As they are here. Yes, the mess of the battlefield was so present all the time
out in the field, and when returning to the rear area it was amazing how ‘dirty’ everyone spick and span back there considered the real deal guys.
Semper fi, my friend,
Jim
Awesome writing Lt.
As a USNR SeaBee I attended many USMC schools for training over the years(M-60, FO/FSC, Desert Warfare, etc.), but never had to use the knowledge in combat. Your writing brings to life what it must of been like for those of any branch who did. I had a friend in my unit who had an NEC as a gunner on the 16″ battleship guns from the Korean War. He accepted a recall to help off the coast of Lebanon. Ended up with a fire mission to suppress the Syrian artillery that was harassing the US “Peace Keepers”. He had before and after photos. Before was a valley packed with guns, trucks, etc. After was a moonscape of craters. CEC R.G. McDonald USNR-Ret
The effect of artillery must almost be witnessed to be understood.
Anyone who is not afraid of artillery in the field is either not in the field or is dead from the effect of it.
Terrifying to be under fire like that. Instantly, out there, you realize
through your whole being that you are only living because of total luck.
Semper fi,
Jim
each chapter is the highlight of my week—-my thoughts and prayers go out to the men who shared this experience with you—bravo Zulu from an OLD Navy 0-3 minesweeper veteran–1963–1969
Thanks a load for your well wishes Stanley. And the compliment did not just blow by me either.
It’s really much easier to work through this with guys like you at my back….
Semper fi,
Jim
Only question I have is: How in God’s name did you and your Marines make that crossing pushin’ wheel-barrows, Jim? “Cause y’all had to have some to carry Cojones that size…
I don’t think any of us, at the time, thought about in those terms.
We were mostly wet, tired and scared kids laboring under circumstances that caused as much shock
and unexpected decisions as it did any kind of bravery.
We were not ‘lean mean killing machines’, so often portrayed,
although there were a lethal killing nature and effect
to our work that cannot and could not be denied.
I was asked once by a publisher “how many men have you killed?”
How could I possibly answer such a question, given what you’ve read in this series?
“I have no clue?” sounds like a smart aleck or stupid answer, but it would have been the truth.
My real answer assured that I didn’t get published.
“Who in the hell do you think you are to sit there and ask such a question?”
Semper fi,
Jim
I’m sure y’all didn’t think about it at the time; you were/are United States Marines, but brother, that was impressive! Keep up the good work, You’re giving me a lot of insight into what it must have been like. Semper Fi!
You are right. We didn’t think much of it at the time, about being Marines and all. Every once and awhile, when life would let us or demanded it.
Thanks fo the comment Lance…
Semper fi,
Jim
Another outstanding, gripping chapter James!
thanks Dennis, you writing here is encouragement for me and I thank you for that….
Semper fi,
Jim
IMO, which is worth almost as much as you paid for it, you don’t need the word “and” in the sentence below.
They moved directly at the position where I sat and then began veering to one side before coming back ‘and’ to the other. They looked like giant centipedes.
Thanks for the editing help and being on that very vital editing team Tom…
Semper fi,
Jim
I was in the Colorado Army Guard and we were at Ft Carson in the mid 60’s and they would fire those 175’s. We were miles away and could feel the ground shake. By the way, to repeat what other’s have said. Wow.
Thanks for the compliment and also coming in on the credibility side.
Few people have any experience with the impact of large artillery rounds, and I am happy about that…
Semper fi,
Jim
Even more brillianter (!) than usual James. I’m 64 and been a heavy reader all my life but don’t remember ever reading anything quite as intense as this. Criminy.
Thanks Tom, comments like your own help keep me going.
I don’t think this series would still be continuing without the comment section here.
It has been a lot harder to write than I ever figured but easier because
of the company and support readers like you provide.
I cannot thank you enough.
Semper fi,
Jim
Damn, that chapter went fast. Really fast…was kinda pissed that it ended so quickly. It pains me to say how much I’ve enjoyed reading all these chapters because men died. American men lost parts of themselves and men lost some of what makes them human. I hate using the word “enjoy” because some of these stories made me sick to my stomach. I dunno if what I’ve said make sense, but I’m addicted to 30 Days.
Thank you Mr Strauss.
Thanks for that well written compliment Shines. It’s something to write, and much more than I bargained for.
Thanks for being here for me…
Semper fi,
Jim
It makes perfect sense, and then none at all. When you consider that Ho Chi Minn, worked at the Omni Parker House, in Boston, Massachusetts as a Baker, and loved the USA for it’s ideals, and wanted our help breaking the bonds of French Colonialism, but his message to the POTUS, was blocked by a diplomat! Thus his quest for Nationalism took on a Communist partner. Politicians never share the mud, sand, mosquitoes or leaches! Blessings
Ho was such a great supporter of the U.S. and the constitution and freedom.
That he got handled that way, well, explains some of the evil certain men do
in order to dominate others. Thanks for the history lesson and one that is totally factual.
Semper fi,
Jim
Outstanding and gripping episode as always Sir! As always I stand humbled by the experiences of the men who came before me, and awed that the more things change, some things stay the same. Never had artillery support, but we had all kinds of air, and the concussion is something I can never forget. I am glad you made it, and glad you are sharing. Keep up the great work Sir!!
122nd Combat Engineer Bn., 3rd Armored Cavalry Reg.
Operation Iraqi Freedom, 2003-2004
It is always great to hear from the young warriors, as it often takes many years before we old hands can really
open up and discuss our experiences. Thanks for the reading and thanks for putting your own current vet stamp of approval on the
story and me coming back from it.
Semper fi,
Jim
As was mentioned above James, I too had to wash out helicopters at the end of the day. That was indeed bad enough after a long day, but no face in the mud watching the leaches dance while contemplating a mad dash through open field !!
Thanks for telling the story as one that was there and I believe like me wondering just how the hell I made it home !!
SEMPER Fi
Choices. It was all about second to second and minute by minute choices…
and almost all of those choices between lousy and really lousy…but so many working out.
Small arms fire did little to suppress return fire but mortar, artillery, and air suppressed the
hell out of everyone on the battlefield. I always wonder how in hell I made it home, and sometimes late at night, don’t really believe it…
Semper fi,
Jim
“Roger that,” I replied, smiling ever so slightly at the Army I’d only heard terrible things about in training but discovered, so far, only wonderful things about.”
Music to my ears (eyes?) as a long timer in Army then National Guard. I take that as a High Compliment. The Guard being a total melting pot of prior service folks Army, Marine, Air Force, Navy, Coast Guard. Not to mention a healthy serving of non Prior Service people. I came to realize and admire the inter-connectivity of the various branches.
Thanks so much for another quality reading experience. Do not rush, and don’t fret having us wait.. Quality is worth the wait.
The truth about the interaction among the services in combat conditions is seldom discussed because
it has been so much more satisfying to depend on idiotic Hollywood screenwriters to describe what their view is.
I also imagine the fear the NVA must have felt because their casualties were so much higher than our own.
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim, I hope the difficulty in writing these marvelous descriptions of the real thing is also bringing you some relief. I know I have seldom read as riveting a stream of consciousness portrayal of command and survival. I had my week of wake up in the middle of the night starting on the 28th of April, the fall of Saigon has a lingering effect, but I am here, I was not the last to die there and I am eternally grateful for that. It took me years to resolve that little bit of guilt. Question: You mention cliff fire from the Soviet version of the 106, I was thinking you had mentioned some 130mm guns earlier, but they may be part of the stew the NVA had cooking in and along that valley.
John Kerry’s ‘the last to die’ phrase rang through my head later on like your own.
That phrase spoke of a hopelessness of purpose across the broad spectrum of the entire war.
Upon arrival, the ennui and purposeless of it all was so apparent,
and then more so when you got to the bush if you went to the bush.
Thanks for sharing your own reality…
Semper fi,
Jim
I was a kid, straight out of high school, Boot camp, ITS, then headed to Sea Duty. MSG picks my SRB for an interview and I find myself waking our relief the evening of 28APR in Saigon. 0332 the morning of the 29th I find myself on the floor, having been knocked out of the rack by a 122 rocket near miss. I literally woke the last two combat casualties of our part of the war. My experience was only a tiny taste compared to yours.
A real ‘taste’ nevertheless and makes for much better barroom repeating. I can picture the kind of Vietnam saloon I have only ever
gotten an idea about from movies, and I know how inaccurate they are. Anyway, thanks for putting your own experience up here and
also the compliment…
Semper fi,
Jim
LT, you’re doing great at keeping the reader on edge. I’ve never been around anything larger than a 105 so I only imagine the bell ringing with a 175. One correction, “but it was a magnet for much more dangerously terminal hits from the RPG B40 rockets.” Shouldn’t ending be; “from a RPG or a B40 rocket.”
From the first chapter of the first book until now, I have been riveted and awaiting each new chapter with a gleam in my eye. You writing style reminds me so much of the 13th Valley.
Hang in there, LT. We appreciate all that you do.
thanks Roy, your compliments and you additive data is much appreciated and helps me to continue.
Semper fi,
Jim
It’s like we are all there with you, Jim. I was 155 FDC in the Ashau 1969. I fired several missions for LRRPs running through the boonies dropping 50 behind them. Thanks for showing us redlegs in a good light. I definitely see why it is so difficult to write these chapters.
You reflags did the job and I am only documenting the work and even more importantly the care and
sympathy you guys had for us stuck out there in the shit.
Thank you, for then and for now…
Semper fi,
Jim
Thanks for the dose of reality. I have friends who wax nostalgic about flying hueys in Vietnam. Last night I awoke in the middle of the night recalling the day two companies walked into a regiment of NVA set up in ambush. I don’t know how many trips I made in and out picking up wounded but I flew all day. The blood was running out the doors of my aircraft and at the end of the day we had more than an inch of congealed blood in back. I picked up a bucket to help my crew clean up the aircraft and they both said “We got this sir…” .. and I went to my room, locked the door … and cried. You cannot believe How much I hate “chicken Hawks” …
Mike, I can believe it, the hatred for those who happily and gleefully call for the deaths of others while they are busy making sure they never have
to go or even get close. Thanks so much for your heart-rending story of what happened to you and so many others. Thanks for being there to ‘pick up
the pieces’ so to speak, too…
Semper fi, brother
Jim
It was real! But you have a way of putting actions into words and making it seem unreal. Nam 1964-1966 & 1972-1973.
I’m always looking forward to the next chapter.
Thanks
It was real bu it was so unreal, indeed. It was even more surreal to live than it is now, and then to accommodate
to being back here. I kept asking for a hand mirror in the hospital in Japan and the staff kept telling me that
My face wasn’t hit. I never told them that I wanted the mirror by my bedside at night so I could reach over and
make sure I was still there….that’s how surreal it was and sometimes, very occasionally now, it remains.
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim,
I just stumbled upon your writings recently and have become enthralled like everyone else. You bring to life the awful responsibility of command while trying to stay alive. I lead the Marines of the M-76 Otter Company in northern I Corps and learned to appreciate their loyalty, bravery, and sacrifices. Semper Fi, Steve.
Thanks Steve. Yes, leadership under such difficult circumstance and at such a young age was something else indeed.
I like to think that I would do such a better job today, but I’m not at all certain of that. Maybe today I’d just find a way
not to go out there!
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim – at the ripe old age of 21, I found myself leading Marines that were often only a couple of years younger. It still amazes me to this day how much faith and trust they put in us. Semper Fi, Steve.
Thanks for the comment Steve, and yes, it was quite something to be leading anything, much less a combat unit of Marines in combat at that age…
Thanks for the comment and some of your own experience…
Semper fi,
Jim
Once again, you’ve me riveted to this story. Great writing LT. I hope that this is helping you as much as seems to be helping others. Semper Fi,
Kimball
I am sure glad to be of help. I could never have come to the conclusion that I would be helping anyone
but me when I began writing the story. Thanks for helping with the motivation to keep on going…
Semper fi,
Jim
Hey Lt. Good luck with the make believe bit. As I have stated before, I was never in the shit as you and your troops were but I still, at times, wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. Better to face it again I think and just be glad we made it home. The Demons do fade some with time but never completely. Take care Lt..
Yes, the nights can be bad, and just because you never made it out there doesn’t mean that being close does not count.
I recall one guy I knew who worked on choppers out on an aircraft carrier offshore. He was so happy not to be shot at.
But then, his buddies, flying the choppers started not coming back. Sometimes their stuff would be hauled back aboard.
It tortured the hell out of him then, and then through the years. He wasn’t in combat….but he really was…
Semper fi,
Jim
“Fire In The Hole”..I so much would like to be the one pushing that fire button but at this point I’m glad I wasn’t there to do it! Best I can do is wait and press it with you next Sunday!
Yes, it is hard to portray what it is like to always fight an enemy you don’t see, until you see the enemy running at you.
It’s like getting shot at by tracers the first time. You never ever forget those fast-moving flying flare beer cans going by.
When people are physically coming at you to kill you with intent and equipment it is truly staggering how afraid you can be.
Semper fi,
Jim
I was assigned to deliver 175 rounds to a fire base somewhere West of Kon Tum.I spent the night being bounced off the ground with fire missions.The 175s are awesome from both ends.667th Transportation Company, US Army 1967,1968.
Yes, Kimball, and a lot of guys came home with hearing problems that wouldn’t really manifest until later years. Everyone in or near a
battery of those had to suffer damage. Damage that was never disclosed before or after. Thanks for the comment about that…
Semper fi,
Jim
James, been reading since Day 1 , I love your writing and cannot wait until the next chapter is written. Having never been in combat I cannot start to understand the feelings and memories you are bringing to those who have been there and done that. I spent nearly 30 years as a firefighter, been in some bad situations , but unlike you and the others who sacrificed so much day in and day out, I could go home after 24 hours . My hats off to all veterans who have sacrificed so much for our freedom. Keep up the good work and God bless .
You got a taste of it as a firefighter though. Even being able to go home isn’t enough. Only post 9/11 does the public really
give credit to first responders as it should have all along. The Iraq war helped in the treatment of vets. After the Nam all any of us
wanted ws to get out and grow our hair so nobody would know…
Semper fi,
Jim
Were I the Gunny, I would have done the same thing protecting you from enemy fire, after all, you were the only FO able to call in field support from the big guns. He had to be saying a lot of prayers inside of that Ontos, hoping that it was not hit by the RPGs.
Two hundred meters is not a great distance when you have a battalion of VC coming at you. It had to be hard to hold your fire until they reached that mark. One wonders how hard it is to hit a target that is serpentining like that, with the 106s? Hopefully C company machine gunners are ready for action as well.
They sent a whole regiment J! It was one hell of a difficult and tough early day.
So many Marines acted with such honor that day. When I write of the decorations for those guys
I have to admit that I never got to write a single one. It just came at me, day in and night out.
I’ve read about the Frozen Chosin being that way in Korea.
Semper fi, my friend,
Jim
Considering your current location in the Valley, that regiment must have come up from Cambodia. So far for the twenty days you have been writing about, our troops have been pretty much controlling the one major trail running from North to South in the valley. Most of the VC activity, has been from tunnels along the mountain sides, but sporadic and with smaller units.
Looks like Command was sending you guys directly into the hornets nest that was working North in the Valley.
I really don’t think that command knew what the hell was going on in the valley.
Where would they have gotten the data.
Our own reports were sporadic and filled with lies and bad data.
As you can read for yourself, the continuous nature of our contact
and own infighting left almost no time for writing anything.
I worked like hell simply to write letters home.
Semper fi, my friend,
Jim
There are various ways to construct an Order of Battle of opposing forces.
“The Most Secret War: Army Signals Intelligence in Vietnam” by James L. Gilbert. The big issue here is that the data was closely held. Those who really needed the intel did not have sufficiently high security clearances to be briefed.
“Death in the A Shau Valley: L Company LRRPs in Vietnam, 1969-1970” by Larry Chambers. This and similar books written by members of the 101st LRRPs/Rangers tell their story. They found the NVA on Hamburger Hill.
Deserves thought, I would imagine.
Semper fi,
Jim
Stunning three dimensional mental images.
LZ Ripcord has its own grizzly story to tell.
Well done (again) sir.
13B40 LZ Schueller ’68.
Yes, Ripcord when through hell and lost a lot of guys.
Thanks for coming in on here and reminding me of more stuff in that valley, and up above it too…
Semper fi,
Jim
Riveting as always James. One question though,Tex’s watch?
You are most correct. It was not Tex’s watch. It was Tex’s gun! That was a transposition that has be edited.
Thanks for picking it up..
Semper fi,
Jim
I’m so riveted in the action that I fail to cacth any errors. As before, I can’t wait to read the next installment.
Thanks a lot Phillip, if I continue as I have been going lately that will be
Sunday night….and thanks for wanting more…
Semper fi,
Jim
Got it and corrected Chuck. Thanks a million…
Semper fi,
Jim
Can’t say much more than “WOW.”
I can’t-
Thanks a lot Al, that’s enough! Nice compliment…
Semper fi,
Jim
WOW! What a chapter! Had to re-read the first half due to the ‘fog’ that developed in my eyes because ofthe intensity of your writing . When the three books are finished I’d like to get 7 sets for some of my Texas Aggies buddies. Great writing.
Thanks Greg for that deep and meaningful compliment, or actually a series of compliments. I am so happy that you
are going to buy more than one set. Makes me feel like its all worth it…
Semper fi,
Jim
Another good one, Jim.
Keep pounding.
Thanks Walter. I am always afraid that I am going to write a real dud.
There was never a dull or inactive day or night for me in that valley though.
Semper fi,
Jim
Sir, every single chapter is even better than the last, even though that just doesn’t seem possible. You are very gifted.
Wel, it sure makes me hope I don’t write a clunker somewhere along the way? I just chronicle the stuff that
went down and the process of surviving combat as best I can.
Semper fi,
Jim
Wow Sir, just friggin wow. SF LT.
Neat compliment Mike and I think you most kindly and sincerely.
Semper fi,
Jim
Is this Mike Peavy from Goose Creek?
Wow! That is getting intense. Great read about the heroes there.
Thanks a lot for the compliment H. Kemp. Means a lot to me to hear from you on here.
Semper fi,
Jim
From the Southern end Of I Corp 68-69 Ditto on all the other replies !
Thanks Bill, really appreciate the effort it takes to write something on here.
Semper fi,
Jim
Haven’t commented in a while, but have religiously read every posting. Again, I have to say you paint a picture that leaves me feeling as if I am in the jungle alongside you. You are definitly an artist. I understand the compassion you have for your men and respect your relationship with the Gunny and your scout team, keep telling this story so people understand how you survived !
Understanding how I survived. I am not sure I really understand that.
But I am trying to lay it down as best I can and I much appreciate hearing from you and your complimentary opinion.
Semper fi,
Jim
I keep wondering why Battalion is so clueless about what is really happening, while all the time you keep getting maximum effort from all the support elements without regard to service or branch. How many times now have you been saved by the Cobras, the Sandies, the AC Gunship, or various artillery units, both Marine and Army? I’ve concluded that the people who pay attention know you got the crappy end of the stick, and are doing all they can to keep you alive, while those who don’t pay attention are in command. That right there says a lot about our society, both on the good side and the bad.
BTW – for some reason this is my favorite chapter. I think it’s because your Army buddy is willing to break the rules to get the job done right, and even suggested a clear improvement in the fire order.
The depth of that comment. I had to re-read it several times. Yes, you got it. You got it clearly and that helps me get it.
Those support units were living and dying with it with us. The command structure was avoiding the whole thing. They were sealed in the rear
and did not want to even really know about what happened to us. I am not certain I understand why but that was the way it was. I talked more
on the radio to support people than I ever talked to my own command. I am glad you caught that care by Bob back at Ripcord. I would not have
thought that anyone would have picked up on that so meaningfully. To me it just happened. I didn’t think about the depth of it until you wrote this.
Thank you so much,
Semper fi,
Jim
damn you left us hanging that time , FIRE
Yes, that’s accurate Bill, but as with most of this story, not nearly as intended as most would think.
I just write until it seem correct to stop and start another segment. Thanks for the ‘damn’ part of your comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
Another edit: “I jumped up, and then went immediately went back down” Should you delete one of the (went)?
Thanks, Skeeter.
Noted and corrected.
Semper fi,
Jim
My wife laughed at me over this. I have never read an entire book. Only hunting and fishing mags. I am so into this that I can’t wait for the next chapter. You are an incredible writer. I close my eyes and see everything you are describing. Demoed fi sir. I spent 4 in the corps and would have followed you sir. Semper fi junior.
Another self-effacing compliment of the first order. Thanks for allowing me the honor of being your first complete book. The
story is most apparently very addictive to those with some experience in combat and to a considerable number of people who have none.
Thanks for being one of those vitally interested readers and I would have been honored to have you at my side, although I would
quite probably have missed you terribly in the end…
Semper fi,
Jim
My first attempt at an edit: “bullet was an almost instantly fatal”. Should you omit (an)?
Yes, you have it right, and thanks a lot Skeeter…
Semper fi,
Jim
You got us on the edge of our seats. Thanks LT, really enjoy your writing
Thanks Richard. The edge of the seat thing is unintentional but I guess buried in the back of my mind.
Much appreciate your appreciation and compliment.
Semper fi,
Jim
DAM LT. !! Is it as tough to write as it is to read some times ?
I think so, at least some of it. It is never easy to lose guys out there in the field.
Never, and I don’t care who they were or are. And then you carry them with you home, a part I had
no idea I would go through. Be going through.
They knew enough to teach that part in training, I know now, but they would never…
Semper fi,
Jim
I have patience galore, so the cliff hanging doesn’t bother me. The writing is excellent. Gear head that I am, the artillery part intrigues me so much. Do you know of a site where I could learn more? Thank you again for enduring that hell and being brave enough to recount it.
There are bits and pieces all over the place but I have never found a site where you can get
real information on how you use the stuff as well as the exact specifications of weaponry and ammunition.
How the stuff really works in combat is a study in meteorology, geology, atmospherics, land survey, map reading and interpretation,
and more. It’s an art as well as a science, like cooking. You can get all the ingredients exactly correct and then quite easily
fuck up the cooking part, or you can cook away only to discover that the meal is bad because the ingredients were either wrong or poor in quality.
My books are as much a primer in how to use artillery in the field as they are a study on the human conduct of such intense conflict.
I don’t read it anywhere else. And, once you leave the USA with the stuff don’t forget that vets were constantly modifying things in the field,
like firing red bag and the addition of guns and stuff on the Ontos body and more….
Thanks for the interesting comment and I hope I have marginally answered your question.
Semper fi,
Jim
“vets were constantly modifying things in the field” Wonder if any Arty folks can comment on a “screamer” round. At Song Be 175s would fire H&I at night. The story was they would pinch a razor blade between the fuse and the body of the shell. It made quite a howl as it flew overhead. Supposedly to mess with Mr. Charles’ mind.
James, What an intense episode! … and judging by your answer to J it is about to become even more so. Be Well.
Never heard the screamer round. I can imagine it terrified as many of us friendlies under it as the enemy!
Guys in the field liked little stuff better than big stuff, like the mortars. A 60 mike mike can’t kill you if it’s a little off in aim,
like a 4.2 can. A 105 is small change next to the 175 and who the hell isn’t afraid when the 500 pounders are coming down from the passing
airdales? Funny how the real world of combat is as opposed to beliefs or movies or any of that…
Semper fi,
Jim
Sorry Lt. but I missed who or what was following you down the slide from atop the hill. Did I miss a chapter? I was hoping it might have been a couple of survivors from the Army.?? This has been an incredible read, and never serving in combat area while in the Air Force… I relive every moment you relay to us, from both the enemy and friendly enemy if there is such a thing.
The men who came down that slide are still a mystery in the book so read on and you will know more…
Semper fi, and thanks for getting this far along. All the chapters of all the works are online and free to
everyone who wants to take the trouble to read in that rather fragmented way.
Thanks for being one of those readers…
Semper fi,
Jim
My heart is racing just from reading this. I was only in one firefight as an Army clerk while there and cannot imagine what it was like to be a line grunt. You and your fellow Marines will always be heroes to me and thousands of others.
You do not get deadened to the terror you felt that one time. I am so happy you only had the one, as
it is the multiple shit that kills you. How many firefights can you survive when you are losing so many men
each time? Its simply math.
Semper fi,
Jim
Jesus…James you left us dangling again…like a spider twisting on a single thread of web in the wind…great read again. You do know how to paint the picture to make us feel like we are there with you…outstanding…haven’t felt that kind of rush in long time…
Thanks ever so much for the great compliment Mark, even though I just write on kinda unaware about the cliffhanger thing. I just top where it seems
I have reached the distance for that segment to make it all fit in chapters. It was all kind of cliffhanging…
Semper fi,
Jim
Thank you Sir,
I will be at the Wall on Sunday. I will look up the names.
Fiction. The reason these novels are fiction is for some elemental wise decisions about real combat service made when I started.
The names in these books are not the right ones, although the nicknames are pretty valid. You won’t be able to look up the names
on that wall because you do not have them. But if you want a clue as to where so many reside in representation and memory then you want
to go to panel 42W.
We all kind of go with you my friend…
Semper fi,
Jim
One day maybe I will have a stack of books under that panel….without further comment….
Holy crap Sir, two adrenaline filled blood pumping episodes back to back! I’m not sure how much of this my old heart will take. After all I’m not 19 anymore like my days back in the Nam. Good stuff, on the edge of my seat waiting on the next one!
Thanks Bob, back at you on Sunday. Perilous times those….
and I got a review on Amazon where the reviewer said that it was a great novel
but way too much went on for it to be real….well, no, he just wasn’t there.
But I’m used to that by now…
Semper fi,
Jim
And thanks for the great compliment!
Augh-its not there, ok I’ll wait for you to let me in on some more, damn fine reading . Thanks again James !
Day by day and now week by week it is coming along. I have promised to get faster as we head toward
‘resolution’ further on…
Semper fi,
Jim
WOW!! I am on the edge of my seat sir!!!
High praise and I much appreciate it. I have opened a james strauss group page on Facebook for vets and friends. Come.
Semper fi,
Jim
Thought I tripped over one or two edits, but am too wrapped up in the action to remember where they were… sorry!
Floyd (2/325 82nd abn)
Thanks for ‘stumbling’ and then moving right on. I am not the best editor of my own work but I have you guys.
If you go back and catch them I would appreciate the help.
Semper fi,
Jim
Wow!
Thanks for the meaningful one word compliment e!!!
Semper fi,
Jim
It’s back on!! waiting with dreadful anticipation of the end. Only solace is that fact that you are here to tell the tale. Blue Skies
Blue skys and boat drinks it is, my friend. Thanks for the well wishing and the comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
I was FDC in Vietnam 69/70 I was assigned to a 175 and 8inch battery. FYI those 175mm rounds weighed 196 pounds. My greatest pleasure was getting Marines and grunts out of trouble.
I get some of the details wrong Richard, obviously. I remember the 175 rounds as weighing 175 but in light of what you just wrote that does not seem likely
at all. Thanks for the help.
Semper fi,
Jim
Ok James you’ve got my attention and anticipation. I was gonna give you hell when I read “the gunny’s gone”. But no sweat we’re cool. Gunny O Retired
No, the Gunny was not gone, as you read on and discovered.
The Gunny was quite somebody…and thanks for the intensity of your experience in the reading…and writing about it here…
Semper fi,
Jim
I am a new reader. TBS, Quantico VA. B Company, November 1976.
Great writing! Your story is riveting.
Semper Fi
Thanks. I cannot believe that Obannon Hall is gone! Thanks for coming aboard and then coming on here to comment about it.
Glad you got into the fray late in the game.
Semper fi,
Jim
As I am reading this the rain is coming down like it did in country. Relentless! My heart is pounding recalling the times I feared the next moments. James you are recalling real events and writing with that same emotion. Thanks for all of your efforts.
Yes, it does well up and the emotion can be harder here on the people around me than it seems to be on me.
That’s PTSD for you. It’s contagious, or at least its effects.
Semper fi, and thanks for that comment…
Jim
Thank you! 🦅
Thank you for your support, Tommy.
Share with your friends.
Semper fi,
Jim
I can remember on June 11th, 68′ being pinned down in a captured NVA trench line…about to be overrun..when an A6 began dropping its payload of 5oo pounders at “danger close’ about 150 meters from us….bounced us from side to side in those trenches…and then his wingman came in and did the same thing…all of us had blood running from our noses and some from our ears….so I understand your description of the concusive shock waves…so very hard to describe accurately….. All of us “out here” are waiting…our eyes pressed to that rubber eye piece…..waiting for you to pull the trigger….GET SOME!! Semper Fi
Wow, Larry, as usual. Your own love dovetailed into my own and the story…and the elucidation of what the shock waves are like to endure close up…those things
regular peace time Americans will never physically know about, if we were successful with others at making sure they don’t. thanks for the usual compliments and
encouragement…
Semper fi,
Jim
Great job. Can’t wait for the next segment. Brings me back to my time off the coast on the gun line.
Thanks David. I am working on it and I much appreciate the compliment inherent in your words and your putting them up on here.
Semper fi,
Jim
Fusner crank up that radio to firebase so junior can put some he’ll behind those nva.
Yes, it’s like you are reading my mind at the time….read on…
Semper fi,
Jim
Wow! Jim once again you have us by the short hairs. Thankful that you and Gunny are alive.
I really thank you for your support, Jim
Remeber to please share with friends
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim, my heart is pounding and I need to go get an ECHO Doppler in 1/2 hour! Sure hope my ticker is slowed down by then!
That’s one hell of a ‘killer’ of a compliment Michael.
Don’t die on account of my writing, although if you do make sure your wife writes about it on here!
Seriously, I am saying a prayer for you right this minute…
Semper fi and God bless and care for you.
Jim
Damn LT. heck of a stopping point. Welcome home. Semper Fi Warrior
Yes, I stop when I get so far into the segment, not because I am at a particular place,
but in reading back it sure seems a lot more like a series of Flash Gordon episodes rather than a Philip
Roth novel! thanks for the comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
What a great surprise to wake up to this morning. You sir are indeed a writer. Thank you for sharing your journey.
Yes, I am working to get a segment done per week, with Sunday night being my deadline. Start the week out right, and all…
Thanks for the great compliment and your putting it up on here.
Semper fi,
Jim
Powerful writing!
Thank you, Steve.
The support here is overwhelming.
Please share with your friends.
Semper fi,
Jim
I’m not sure of the year, but Sonny and Cher had a hit song about this time called “And the Beat Goes On”. I hear this in the background as you raggedy ass Marines keep doing what you’ve gotta do. I think I count as three times now that the Gunny has bulldozed you into the muck to save your sorry ass. NCO’s run the military, and Staff NCO’s run the wars.
Semper Fi.
Mr. John Conway, a gentleman’s gentleman and erudite as hell. Thanks for that song and that thought that goes with it.
Semper fi,
My friend,
Jim
I always seem to elevate a couple of inches off the chair every time I read a chapter. 👍 super cant wait for the next.
Neat thing to say Jim, and nice way to make a compliment…
Semper fi,
Jim
One question answered, only a million more to ask. I thought it might have been the Gunny, the “stitching” comes in a flash or a lifetime in hell away. Can’t wait for more and don’t want to read it. THAT is talent!
Don’t you love it when one of your digitally challenged fans try to use an I-pad. I did not think the first message made it.
Well at least you accept the challenge well, Walter
Semper fi,
Jim
And that is class on your part Walt. It is good to read you here and also to read your encouraging complimentary words. Thank you, my friend.
Semper fi,
Jim
INCREDIBLE!!!!!
One word compliment of great consequence. I cannot thank you enough Mike…
Semper fi,
Jim
Now is a good time to walk some artillery up and down the area behind the nva and hit them from the front with the ontos and push them from the rear with artillery.
Yes, Jb, keep reading and while you are doing you have read my mind of so long ago…
Semper fi,
Jim
About to get some payback——Somebody fan some air on me so’s to settle me down—–WOW!
Thanks for the compliment Mark and I shall endeavor to meet your reading needs this week again.
Semper fi,
Jim
I had to go take another blood pressure pill. I thought about taking two.
Sorry. i thought the first one didn’t go through. Please disregard or delete.
You are too funny Rob. Yes, it is that kind of rendition of a wild tale that seems to never have a bit of rest, just like the real thing…
Semper fi,
Jim
It was not meant to be funny.
On this Memorial day weekend I will keep you and all of the vets on this site in my thoughts and prayers, and hope that your remembrance of fallen comrades will only include the good memories.
You, and all the vets that read and post on your site, have my respect and admiration. I know that saying “Thank you for your service” sounds trite, but know that it is extended from the heart.
Thank you for your service.
Thanks for the sincere comment and also for putting it up here for Memorial Day.
Shared by many of us on here and also out there among those who don’t necessarily comment ever…
Semper fi,
Jim
I had to go and take another blood pressure pill. I thought about taking two.
This is the most intense action you have put on paper yet, and I felt as if I were right there with you.
Thank you Rob, and in some sense you are right there with me…and I much appreciate the company…
Semper fi,
Jim
Well, I got one question answered. But I kinda knew what it would be anyway. Next up, two each, left, center, right? I’ve forgotten the effective diameter of a 106 beehive but it’s got to be far less than your 200 meter line. The way you involve us in the minute by minute here leaves me wondering just how in the hell you all did what you did. I’m short of breath just reading. Like that “thank you”, “because we had to” doesn’t come close. I’m talking about every one of you that stood for us, amazing courage and dedication.
As always I really appreciate your valuable input and support, Walter.
Looking forward to our meeting again.
Thanks for your friendship
Semper fi,
Jim
I anxiously await each segment with total awe
Thanks Ed, I much appreciate the support and motivation words and compliments like yours give me.
Semper fi,
Jim
Tha gunny continues to be an enigma! Never called in 175’s the 105’s were scary enough! As always, looking forward to Sunday’s new chapter! Good stuff Jim! Semper Fi!
Yes, damn straight. The 105s were scary enough. Good words to live by. They don’t even use 105mm anymore.
I think 155 is the smallest. Thanks for the comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
Absolutely chilling. As close to actually being there as you’ll ever come without having lived it. I can only imagine the difference of reality is firecracker to a nuke but the chills that shook me were real. Thank you for taking a small part of us there with you. You will never be alone Sir. Like fireflies, a thousand spirits are now in the mud of The Valley with you. Mine included.
That is such a neat and reassuring thing to say. I smiled but deep inside.
Thanks for the kindness and the brotherhood I sometimes forget is all around me now…
Semper fi,
Jim
Tex’s watch? Isn’t that the Omega that belonged to one of the earlier LTs? Great story. I know you’re tearing open old scars….
You are correct, Sam, it was Keating’s
Thanks for the sharp eye and attention.
My mind gets a bit foggy bringing the past forward.
Semper fi,
Jim
James , thought I’d offer this to help explain the awsumness of the Ontos.
Thank you for sharing your experiences.
Fantastic writing!
https://youtu.be/KImM4zesVlo
Thanks for that article. The look of it, the 106 sound and even the sharp crack of those short-round .50 calibers.
Quite distinctive and unforgettable…
Semper fi,
Jim
Let the mayhem begin
Well, I don’t think the mayhem stopped in that valley while I was there!
Semper fi,
Jim
You certainly know how to write. How or who come up with publishing on FB?
Thanks, Steve,
My longtime friend and associate Chuck Bartok
has been effectively using Social Media for several years.
He has a weekly Call-in Talk Show discussing these ideas.
Semper fi,
Jim
can’t wait for the next installment. Sitting on the edge of my chair. awesome story.
thanks Don, it’s coming by the time Monday morning rolls around…
semper fi,
Jim
Unforgettable writing as those memories are to you. One hell of a ride Jim!
Thanks Lee, means a lot to me and helps in keeping on going.
Semper fi,
Jim
Get some!!
Yes, an axpression of the times…appropriate but strange, nevertheless!
Semper fi,
Jim
Awaiting each and every release Lt , you have awaken my heart for each and every one of us who served , and those of us who have lost brave people under our command God bless them and you Sir !!
Thank you Don for the depth of that compliment. It helps keep me going as this odyssey proceeds.
Semper fi,
Jim
Wow ……just wow sir
Thanks most sincerely for the compliment Roger!
Semper fi,
Jim
Well you certainly know how to keep our attention. This one was like one of those movies that has a sequel and leaves you sitting on the edge of your seat, saying, no, yelling, “NO!!!!! DON’T STOP NOW!” But then this isn’t a movie, this is real, sombering real. I can only imagine the memories you are dredging up and reliving in order to share this with us. I totally understand the hiatus you took and look forward to the next installment. I want to read this, and at the same time, I don’t want to read this. Your words paint pictures that are sometimes so real you can almost taste the mud and feel the leeches. And your words invoke memories of things, places, people, events, that are so far in the past… Thanks for sharing.
Now that was well thought out and well-written comment Marshall and I thank you for writing it up on this site.
The compliments within it are really appreciated also. It is indeed an honor to have so many life-experienced
and intelligent vets not only reading the work but,
like you, writing about it.
Semper fi,
Jim
Fantastic writing, as always, Sir.
I thank you for sharing your story. Perhaps, one day I’ll be able to write mine down.
I would hope that my own story will motivate you John. Any way I can help get it out there I will…
Semper fi,
Jim
Get some!
That was a phrase from over there all right but not much used in the field. It just never felt right.
Semper fi, and thanks for the cogent comment…
Semper fi,
Jim
James I hope you don’t mind me using your first name. It’ hard to imagine having all this locked up inside of you for so long and then to have it come flowing out in this intense, tragic story. Thank you for letting us be a part of it. Bless you.
Jim or Junior is also fine these days. I mellowed. My mom called be Jimmy for so many years and I hated it.
One day in college I told her that I would appreciate it if she didn’t call me that anymore. She said, after a few seconds:
“I’m your mother, I’ll call you whatever I damn well feel like.” That was our last discussion about that.
Semper fi,
Jim
For all the stars…still seen by me…cut a rug, sir!
D.D. Hayes. What a near comment! Your intellect and presentation of it on here always amaze me.
Thank you most sincerely,
Semper fi,
Jim
Always an amazing job of telling a riveting story. Much honor and respect to you and all brave soldiers!
Thanks Paul, for the kind words and the meaning transmitted as we approach Memorial Day.
Semper fi,
Jim
Blast them into a million pieces!
There is that attempt from time to time when dealing with such a seemingly wispy and ephemeral enemy.
We’ll see how it goes…
Semper fi,
Jim
Spell binding to say the least. Spoiling us with the installments coming this fast.
Well, I had to do something Pete as the complaints were killing me!
So, here I am and here it is, coming out weekly, or so I hope…
Semper fi,
Jim
Just re read this chapter the second time. Thanks James
Thanks Bud, for the intensity of the drive that it takes to reread the story. I much appreciate that attention and your writing it on here.
Semper fi,
Jim
And we used candles in the FDC most early mornings. Mostly because the guns were right outside the bunker and flashlights were too bright. We needed to see the guns and night vision was a must.
Funny how real life is so different from training. Back at Sill nobody would ever have thought of
candles and certainly not possessed any. Thanks for that additive part of the experience.
Semper fi,
Jim
You need to shorten these up I really can’t hold my breath that long. Powerful as always.
Neat back door compliment here
Tom and I much appreciate the humor as well as the intent of it.
Semper fi,
Jim
As a youngster, about 8-10 years old I would get caught up in the suspense of the cliffhanger TV show Batman, “Will this be the end of the Dynamic Duo? Stayed tuned until next week! Same Bat time, same Bat channel!” Now at 61 I have seen so many things, good and bad, but none of that ever held my attention in all those years, until I started reading your story! Outfuckingstanding! While I and others chomp at the bit awaiting the next chapter, I feel torn knowing this isn’t some fantasy work, it’s real history, albeit 45+ years ago, they are real events, real men, real wounds and real deaths and I feel ashamed at times for wanting to read the next part, ashamed of my wanting, not of the story, for it needs, no, it must be told! Semper Fi Lt. from an old USA/USAF Brother.
Well, Batman and Flash Gordon are shows I frequently mention just because there is this cliffhanger effect when the story is told the way it is being told.
I don’t do it on purpose but there it is. And I much appreciate hearing the stuff you have written about your own feelings about it all. Shared by so many of us
especially at this time of the year….thank you and we are with you.
Semper fi,
Jim
Omg no fair LT lol. Leaving us hanging like this. Another great on the edge of my seat chapter. Can’t wait for the next part. Semper Fi
LT , please delete my comments. This chapter got my adrenaline pumping and I should have showed more tact in my response. I mean no disrespect sir. Your writing is phenomenal and gives you the feeling of being there as an observer. I await your next post. As always Semper Fi, robert
Fear not. Your comment was answered and I appreciated the compliment inherent in your writing of it…
And this one too!!!
Semper fi,
Jim
Thanks for that compliment Robert, as I much appreciate you and the ‘guys’ wanting more and faster!!!
Semper fi,
Jim
You have my attention sir!
thank you Dick. My next segment will be out next
Sunday and I continue to produce them like drum beats now…like the drum beats from that valley…
Semper fi,
Jim
Thank you, sir…the suspense has been killing me!
Thanks for the comment about enjoying the story, which is what I think you are really saying.
Semper fi,
Jim
Still entranced and can’t wait for your next post! Great share must be so hard to write! Thank you!
Thank you for your support and time to comment.
Share with friends you feel may have an interest.
Semper fi,
Jim
Damn James! I’m hunkered down here in the mud, keeping the sight picture clear and waiting for the Ontos to cut loose. I know while you reload they will come and bring hell with ’em.
The last segment was one of high tension and the usual measure of death.
Amazing to have been twenty-three and going through all that. Then coming home
and trying to make believe I’d not gone through all of that…
Semper fi,
Jim