My eyes snapped open, and I took in a quick deep breath. The sound that had awakened me was that of a fifty-caliber machine gun firing at close range. The crack of it, with following cracks and echoes, assured that I was downrange from the muzzle blasts and the shockwave reflecting off of the projectiles exiting that muzzle at supersonic speeds. I was downrange. It could only be enemy fire. I came alive, jerking my sleepy slow body upward, the adrenalin beginning to kick in, as I pushed aside the water streaming mess of my poncho cover to face up into the pouring night.
“They’ve got their fifty-caliber set up,” Fusner said, needlessly, his face only inches from my own, like he’d been there waiting for me to come out all along.
“The Ontos,” I replied, my mind coming fully online. I held out my right hand in the dark. “I’ve got to talk to Hutzler.”
The Ontos was our only protection against something like the fifty. I grabbed the handset and transmitted. Hutzler came back over the radio immediately, as I turned, crawled to the other side of my hole and stared into the night. The fifty opened up again but there were, unaccountably, no tracers visible. The Gunny plopped down on the squishy matted jungle to my left.
“They’re not using any tracers,” I said to Hutzler. “What can you see with the scope?”
“They’re using pre-registered fields of fire,” the Gunny said, “so they won’t give away the weapon’s position.”
“They’re firing from inside the mountain itself, sir,” Hutzler replied, “but I can see the muzzle flashes faintly anyway, from the angle I’m at.”
“Can we hit them?” I asked, controlling my voice and breathing.
One well-placed fifty caliber machine gun could make the coming attack either an overwhelming success or at least cause heavy casualties on my two rifle companies.
“I’ll never hit the opening with a single H.E. round, but with our own .50 spotter I might be able to get a flechette round, fused just right, to go off just at the entrance to the opening.”
I imagined what it might be like to be inside the cave behind that opening if a fifteen pound 106 mm flechette round went off only a few feet inside that opening. Thousands of tiny darts would be showered at twenty-two thousand feet per second throughout the interior cave complex.
“Okay, fire one of the spotters and see if you can get a tracer round into the opening,” I ordered, as the enemy 50 Cal fired again.
I held the microphone to my ear, Hultzer was leaving his own handset with the transmit button depressed. I heard the short-barreled fifty caliber spotting gun go off and then watched the streaking ‘burning beer can’ of a tracer round arc over to Hill 975. Three more rounds followed until I heard the command “fire the one oh six,” and then a giant explosion went off and I knew the 106 main round was on the way. There was no tracer attached to it, however, the fiery boom of its detonation was readily apparent, lighting up the entire southern side of the hill, when it went off. I was surprised to hear screaming coming all the way across the open area, right through the dense rain, as the night returned to full dark. Hutzler fired another 106 round into almost exactly the same spot, and then another. After the third round, there was no more screaming, or noise at all, radiating out of the mountainside.
“We might have affected them, sir,” Hutzler said, into the radio before the line went dead.
“Yes,” I breathed to myself, “we affected them, all right.”
Fusner and I stayed huddled under my poncho, the rain blessedly coming down hard but channeled away by the small creases around the hole Nguyen had made with his E-Tool. That he was outside, without the benefit of a poncho liner, was discomforting to think about, but I understood it was his way. He was native to the valley, not going native. The A Shau was his home territory, and the weather in it was the home weather he’d endured for a lifetime.
I tried to reach the radios through the operators I’d pried loose from the lieutenants, but there was so much chatter on the combat frequency that there was no getting through. The enemy fifty-caliber had been silenced by the Ontos, but I knew the attack we were expecting had to come. It would be along some path or trail very close to the western canyon wall where I’d sent the extra radio operators to, in order to act as constant communications nodes back to my command.
If the enemy didn’t make its attempt near the wall, then the fire mission I had on hold with the 175 battery would wipe them out, as well as maybe some of our own Marines. With only a two hundred meter range safety margin I knew we’d have to be really lucky to avoid friendly casualties.
The Gunny stuck his head under the poncho cover. I knew it was him from the cigarette smoke on his breath. Fusner’s Prick 25 gave off a small bit of light but not enough to make out facial features.
“Stop,” the Gunny hissed across the short distance.
“Stop what?” I asked, truly surprised by the comment.
“Stop trying to lead from the god blessed rear,” the Gunny said, louder this time. “You led them this far. Now let them be what they are. You can’t see a damned thing anyway, but you’ve gotten into the command habit, and field command isn’t your talent. So, stay off the net and let them go at it. The Ontos can’t see that far in this rain hell of a night, even with that magic scope, and it can’t use flechettes against attacking infantry because they’ll hit us too. This is going to be hand to hand stuff and you’re no good at that either. I’ve pulled you out of some holes, but now I’m telling you to stay in this one and stay off the combat net. Here, get your energy back. We’ll need you later.”
The Gunny was gone before I could collect myself enough to answer anything he’d said. He’d tossed something that hit me in the chest and then fell to the bottom of the hole. I pulled it up. It was a box of C-Rations. I knew it would be Ham and Mothers.
“Command isn’t my talent?” I whispered aloud, trying to understand what the Gunny was talking about. “How does he know I’m no good at hand to hand, and what the hell is hand to hand combat in the jungle, anyway.”
“I don’t think he wants you to get killed, and I don’t think hand to hand means what it sounds like,” Fusner replied, although I hadn’t spoken aloud to elicit a response.
The poncho cover edge was lifted once more, but there was nothing said. I knew it had to be Nguyen. Fusner had given me new batteries from the last supply run for
Montagnard Kon Tum Fighting knife
Jurgens’ flashlight. I pulled the little device out and turned it on, muffling the light with my free hand. Nguyen’s expressionless face appeared. A sparkle of light darted off something he held in his left hand, dangling over the lip of the hole until he quickly withdrew it. I knew the item had to be his special Montagnard Kon Tum Fighting Knife. The knife looked like a large American butcher knife but was handmade and the steel polished with sand and dirt instead of any special solution.
Nguyen had been right behind the Gunny and maybe had not known who it was in the dark and rain of the miserable night. I wondered briefly about that until I looked into the shiny blackness of the man’s eyes. That flat unemotional stare back into my own eyes filled my center with warmth. I was being looked out for, against all enemies, even if that included the Gunny. I wasn’t certain, but the feeling was there and I was going to go with it. I turned my flashlight off and curled back up. The Gunny was right, and I knew it. There was nothing I could know from my current position, not yet, and there was little I could do in attempting to actually engage the enemy personally. I closed my eyes, trying to think about a coming time when there was no rain and the sun would beat down between scudding clouds. I briefly wondered if my teenage radioman ever slept, but consciousness left me before I came to any conclusion.
I awoke once more, this time with no doubt about what was happening. Heavy small-arms fire came from the west where the wall was situated. Contact had been established, the M-60 fire mixed in with M-16 and AK fire. I pushed the poncho aside and stared out over the battlefield. The fact that the Marines in my company all fired tracers the direction of fire was easy to determine, and that direction extended much further down toward me than I had guessed.
I reached for the handset Fusner had already pushed into my shoulder and called in the fire mission, wishing the 175 ammunition had either illumination rounds or white phosphorus. I asked for one round, paid close attention to the ‘shot, over’ reply and the ‘splash’ indication. Five seconds later the round went off with a flash that was so strong that it showed like a very temporary beacon through the dark night and hard rain. The round had impacted somewhere on the other side of the water, not far from where the base of Hill 975 climbed upward to form the southern tip of the western canyon wall. The mountain was blinking. I realized I was looking at small arms muzzle flashes from AK fire being directed all along our front from holes exiting up and down the outward curving expanse. I decided to start with the exposed eastern side of the mountain’s slope.
“Drop two hundred, right one hundred, a battery of four,” I requested.
The “shot, over,” came only seconds later. The battery was prepped and ready for whatever I was going to call in, and that rapid response improved my confidence and reduced my fear considerably.
The sixteen heavy rounds began impacting up and down the side of the mountain. Even though the battery could not reach the southern part of the slope facing us, the ‘firefly’ blinking coming from that slope stopped completely.
I adjusted the artillery fire to add three hundred, allowing another battery of four (16 rounds, fired one after another from the four big guns) to traverse over the mountain’s flank and strike down into the area over the water but short of our jungle line.
The small arms fire generating so many tracers slowed to only occasional single shots or short automatic bursts. I realized that nobody on the battlefield had any good idea of where or when the big artillery shells were going to land. I called for more fire, trying to continue the suppression of fire from the mountain and also hold off an inevitable decision by the enemy to proceed with the attack because the artillery could not reach back as far as the western wall.
“Get me Sugar Daddy on the net,” I ordered Fusner, handing the microphone back to him, my eyes never leaving the open area in front of me that was almost completely black, except for occasional small bursts of brightness from small arms fire.
The detonation of the 175 mm rounds coming in had been hugely explosive, their quick flares of yellow light ending with sharp lightening-like cracks of thunder, transmitted back to me in seconds but still with noticeable delay in covering the distance to me.
“I can’t get through,” Fusner said, with disappointment in his voice. It was the first time, while in a full radio coverage area, that I had not been able to reach a combat command radio.
I turned around to study the area behind me, the incessant rain beating down on my bare head. I reached down for my helmet, but instead pulled the poncho cover back up and over both Fusner and I. Nguyen, whom I’d been seeking, appeared by slipping onto the matted jungle surface next to me, squeezing under the other side of the cover and looking outward, like I was, and likely seeing the same lack of a recognizable vista.
“Sugar Daddy,” I said to Nguyen, “bring him to me.” I pointed at my own chest.
Nguyen rolled out and left at a run.
“You’re bringing Sugar Daddy in, while this is all going on?” Fusner unaccountably asked.
“A walk in the rain,” I replied, “the whole line has to shift massively toward the wall. The enemy’s going to figure out the artillery can’t reach them there and the Ontos can’t fire enfilade fire into that mess without taking out our own Marines.”
I couldn’t read my watch in the rain, although I tried. I estimated that it took Nguyen ten minutes to return with Sugar Daddy in tow simply because I knew that’s how long it took to adjust and bring in two more 175 battery of fours. I could not keep firing the big rounds endlessly, although I was getting no ‘check fire’ indications from the army battery. The night was going to be long and even the U.S. Army’s supply of 175 ammo had to be limited.
Sugar Daddy knelt by my side, with Nguyen behind him, not leaving, again seeming to guard me against the possibility of one of my own Marines attacking me. I looked at what I could see of the big man, thinking about what the Gunny had said about my staying out of the action until it was over. I was not the 2nd lieutenant who’d arrived that first night in totally mindless terror. I was Junior now, and I was in combat with everyone else in the company. I could not hide in a hole, as I’d been so willing and wanting to do in earlier days and nights.
“I need MacInerney, those other two officers and the Starlight Scope back here now,” I said to Sugar Daddy, and I’ve got to have you shift most of your platoon and then successive platoons as you encounter them while you proceed through the jungle and across the open path toward the wall. The enemy’s not going to attack on this flank. The artillery is too accurate and too pervasive, plus they’re going to figure out that I can’t depress the rounds enough to reach them. Those guns aren’t howitzers so the western side is protected by the elevation of the hill.”
“What do I get out of this?” Sugar Daddy asked, making my hand automatically come to rest on the exposed butt of my Colt.
I breathed deeply in and out, and then it came to me. Sugar Daddy wasn’t interested in disobeying orders, or me. He was still bitten by the fact that he knew Jurgens had been written up for a valor decoration and he had not.
“The Silver Star,” I replied. “Not for stupidly getting your men killed on the bridge though. I’ll write you up for getting to the gear and supplies on your own while also bringing the Ontos into position without orders. And now you are going to mass toward the wall and bring all the units together as you go, so that enemy force is met with overwhelming Marine force when they come at us again.”
“A Silver Star?” Sugar Daddy breathed out as if he was thinking about it, although I knew his mind was already made up.
I could almost see the wheels turning in his head through the blackness of the rain and windswept night. He was thinking that, although Jurgens had been written up he probably had been written up for a lessor decoration. The Silver Star was a big deal, just below the Medal of Honor and the Navy Cross. I remembered the Gunny shaking my hand when we’d concluded our deal with respect to Jurgens. I took my right hand off the butt of the Colt and waited to see if the handshake thing would be repeated, but Sugar Daddy merely grunted.
“You’re okay, Junior,” he finally said, “and your word is good.”
I felt a thrill of satisfaction and acceptance flow instantly through my body and mind. I couldn’t believe that I was deeply affected by Sugar Daddy’s words of approval.
My hand did not stray back to the automatic, as Sugar Daddy got to his feet, turned around and disappeared into the night. I put my helmet back on and called in the next battery of four, bringing that adjustment as close as I could to where the wall attack had to be in the planning and forming stages. I kept my head out from under the poncho cover. I wanted to get up and move toward where I knew the Gunny had to be, right with the Marines waiting for the worst the enemy could throw at them. But I waited where I was. I wasn’t in my hole, hiding, and waiting for the combat action to be over, but I was also not at the point of contact with my Marines because I knew that part of what the Gunny said was true. I was the company commander and the only time I might be engaged in hand to hand combat was if I wasn’t being the company commander.
MacInerney and his two junior lieutenants arrived just before the Marines I’d ordered, or negotiated, Sugar Daddy to move began infiltrating and then snaking through the jungle around and behind us.
“Good idea to project our force forward to the line of departure,” MacInerney said, sounding as if he was in some sort of Basic School exercise with people around him who understood such language.
Regular Marines in combat simply moved to where they were ordered or where combat survival might serve them best while giving as much hell as they could to the enemy. There were no five ‘paragraph orders’ prior to an attack operation, as there had been in training, and the extensive planning I’d been taught, using contraction reminder words like BAMCIS and SMEAC, were all but useless in real combat. The Marines moved as silently and efficiently as possible, humping almost everything they had with them. Packs would be dropped when they went down to a prone position on the matted jungle floor, so they could operate and adroitly and rapidly shift positions later when needed.
“Set up the Starlight Scope so we can tell what the hell’s going on at or near what we can see of the wall where the inlet water comes through,” I instructed, ignoring the lieutenant’s compliment.
For some reason, Nguyen wasn’t visible any longer. I wondered if the three new lieutenants got a pass when it came to the Montagnard’s suspicions about what the potential danger my own Marines might be to me. It was either that, or I was imagining the whole thing.
Once the scope was set up, and the Marines had completed their move through our position, I put my eye to the rubber grommet and looked into the inlet area down from the flat bottom where the mountain’s slope ended, across the water and then over toward the wall. Mercifully, there was some open muddy ground between the water and the jungle’s edge.
“Get me Hutzler on the net if you can,” I ordered Fusner.
I could not have the Ontos move forward out of the jungle in order to get a clear direct fire position to hit the open area the scope had revealed. If it moved out of the camouflage the jungle provided it might become the target for any RPG rockets the mountain might have a supply of. It would also become exposed to the undependable range of the 175 mm rounds I was calling in to make sure most of the attack area could not be used.
“Take the Starlight Scope back to the Ontos,” I ordered MacInerney, who hadn’t even had time to lay down, much less dig a defensive hole in the matted undergrowth.
“But we just brought it here,” MacInerney complained, not moving.
“You can either take that back like I’m ordering lieutenant,” I said forcefully, “or you can go back to the wall with Jurgens, fix your non-existent bayonet to your non-existent rifle and prepare for hand to hand combat.”
MacInerney and the two lieutenants took only seconds to disassemble the scope and take off. None of them said anything.
I reached for the handset Fusner was holding out.
“Hutzler, the scope’s coming back at you right now,” I said. “When it gets there, take it and crawl forward until you can see. I want to know if you can give me a tracer spotter round from one of your fifties every minute or so until further notice. The NVA knows how the Ontos works. If you can lay a spotter round near that flat area between the water and the wall to the west, then they’ll think twice before they attempt to launch their attack over it.
“They’re coming, sir,” Hutzler replied, “I’ll get right on it.”
I waited impatiently to call in the next artillery set, not wanting to expose Hutzler who would be laying too close to any incoming, and totally unprotected on the flat mud. I knew I couldn’t wait too long. With a regiment to throw at us, which meant about six times the men we had, the enemy could have two companies run across the open area in less than ten minutes. I knew, if I waited too long, they’d take the risk and try it. If they attacked, I wouldn’t be able to see since I’d sent the only scope we had back to Hutzler.
In minutes Hutzler was back. I felt like I could breathe again at his news. He could fire through the bracken of the bush the Ontos was idling behind. That also meant the 106 recoilless guns could be fired through the same overhanging leaves and branches since their fuses had a hundred meters of set back before the fuses were armed. I called in another battery of four from the army battery. The Starlight Scope would be useless again unless someone else was risked to crawl out again and view the area through it.
“Hutzler,” I called, having had Fusner get him on the radio again.
“Junior?” he replied, which almost made me smile.
Hutzler had been surprised by my call, as he was one of the few men in the companies, except for Fusner, who always referred to me as sir.
“I need someone to go check out the view to that free fire area every ten minutes, or so, and when he goes you need to tell me, and then when he comes back.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” Hutzler shot back, “I’ve got just the man.”
I wondered who he had that he felt was expendable, but I didn’t have time to let my mind dwell on that subject. I called in the next round of battery fire without changing the adjustment. The rounds might not cause death or injury to any of the enemy soldiers but they would certainly keep everyone in or around the mountain on edge and afraid.
I wished that I had spent more time with the Gunny when he’d angrily stuck his head under my poncho cover. The hand to hand combat comment had not gone down well with me. I wasn’t upset about the part about my own participation at all. What bothered me was our mission. It wasn’t to defeat the enemy in close combat. It was to hold it in place or roll it back until real firepower from the air could be brought in at first light, which wasn’t that far away. The only visual we had on the ‘beaten zone,’ where the NVA regiment had to cross in the open, was through the Starlight Scope, which was being operated sporadically by someone I didn’t even know. I had Fusner call the Ontos and relay my order for MacInerney to return to my side. I didn’t need to lose any more officers, and the ones I had were too new and green to have to lay out in the open trying to observe what such a cagey and natively savvy enemy might do.
I heard the fifty caliber spotter firing just before the next salvo of artillery rounds impacted. The rounds were not as well placed as the previous ones had been. The concussion from their landing only a hundred meters, or so, away bounced me out my hole, made my hearing go out again, and then sent a wave of compressed rain showering over into and over our position I rolled onto my back, trying to clear my ears.
Finally, I heard something, while I was trying to get my helmet back on and return to what cover and concealment the poncho-covered hole provided. I heard the 106 fire from the Ontos, then two more rounds. The enemy had to be attacking. Worry and fear claimed me again. Would our combined infantry forces, the nearly sightless Ontos and the badly controlled artillery be enough to stop a full ground attack from a seasoned sapper regiment?
We can wait for a while longer. Your health is far more important. Have a safe and happy Thanksgiving!
Thank you for your support, Mike
Semper fi
Jim
You are still in my prayer of healing from your heart “incident.” Take care of Number 1 first. The rest of us will wait further; on pins and needles from this segment, but surely we will wait. God Bless you and Yours.
Thanks for your caring and support, Bob.
Semper fi,
Jim
This chapter is missing from the Kindle version. How do I get it?
Send your address and I will send you the insert.
Semper fi, and sorry,
Jim
Jim, I have throughly enjoyed your writing. As a former US Air Force pilot and officer, I fully understand the need to make sure the troops are taken care of FIRST. As such, you need to take care of yourself as well. I saw that you have had a cardiac event. Your health is job one. You can get back to writing when that has all been taken care of. Be well, my friend.
Angiogram this morning, to check out the pump and see why it is complaining.
At laast it was complaining. Now it seems fine but they have to do due diligence.
Semper fi,
Jim
James,
Please concentrate on getting past your health issues. Your story can wait. Don’t discount your symptoms even though you may feel better now. My Father ignored or wouldn’t accept what was happening to him and he almost died.
I appreciate your input, Dave.
I am looking forward to being back on track.
Semper fi,
Jim
LT I read and re-read random chapters. In the comments on Day 26 you wrote “I visited the parents of one Marine and tried to tell them what really happened. My wife was right and I should
not have done that. I was too hurt myself and their violent rejection added measurably to my own low self worth. Never did I try that again.”. In ’67 I was home before my 2nd tour. A HS classmate and neighbor was home before his 1st tour as a chopper pilot WO. We had a few beers at each others home. Neither of us completed that tour. He was KIA. I got home the day before the burial and before my discharge. He had an honor guard on both sides of his casket. The only respectful clothes I had that fit was my uniform. When I showed up at the funeral home his mother went off on me. I left quickly and never went to another military funeral.
Thanks so much for your experience on here. Yes, coming home we had no idea of how deeply hurt and effected were those who
lost their important companions, sons, daughters and more.
Thanks for making me feel better about that bad experience.
Semper fi,
Jim
James, hope you are well. On behalf of all your fans on here, ‘We Miss You!” You left us in the middle of a battle; I’ve been checking daily. Understand the creative process takes time, plus revisiting deeply personal and emotional memories is another factor. Just letting you know we are patiently waiting and anxious to see the ending. I hope the Hollywood types are lined up with a movie or Netflix deal for you upon completion. Great characters. Look forward to the next installment. TJ
Yes, and I apologize. I had a heart issue but it has been resolved. Thanks for waiting.
Semper fi,
Jim
Great to hear you’re feeling better James. We can wait another few weeks. It’s only taken 50 years for your memories to land on paper. Pat (Chu Lai 68)
Thank you, Patrick.
Semper fi,
Jim
No apologies necessary. Your health is more important than the next chapter. We will be here when your able to complete this saga. Thank you James, get well.
I really appreciate your support, Phil.
Getting ‘back in the saddle’ soon.
Semper fi,
Jim
James, you certainly involve all of your readers in this fast-paced autobiography. We all (those of us who were involved) suffer in one form or another, but your writing is very difficult to stop reading.
Thank you for relating so very much. And the comments indicate the truth of “all of us who were there left the good part of our souls behind when we returned.
I have my Service Dog, Sunny, to help me with the phantoms in the dark, and hope all my brothers – and sisters – have some help with theirs.
The A- 1’s were all weather attack planes, but not “all-terrain” in the dark!
Yes, the Skyraiders! I can still hear them sometimes on a very windy but quiet day.
They had their limitations but they were there and they stayed on station almost no matter what.
Semper fi,
Jim
Hope all is well and new chapters will be coming soon. Fully understand the need to step back from time to time. Plus, life’s demands on time do get in the way.
Just a quick note of thanks bundled with a ton of encouragement as you push through those last few days.
Sincerely,
Jim
I really appreciate the support from you and so many readers.
There are so many factors involved in writing about those 30 Days.
Semper fi,
Jim
10 November 1775. Semper Fi !
HooRah!
happy Birthday Marines!
October 3, September 30 has come and gone and the story has not come to an end. I can only say I am not disappointed because I didn’t want the end to come. Maybe September 2020?
Semper Fi Sir
I meant to finish at the end of September but, real life comes at me and it is not always allowable for me
to step away from it long enough to finish the next segment.
Thanks for caring and things for expressing that care here…
Semper fi,
Jim
I read the 28th day part 1 two days ago, now unable to pull up or find ?
I have not posted the Twenty-Eight Day Part One.
The most recent is
Twenty-Seventh Night, Third Part
We
will wait Sir !!
update soon?
Working on it, Eric.
Thanks for your support.
Semper fi
Jim
It’s been two months since you last added to the story. Are you alright???
Yes, I indeed had a heart problem but it has been resolved and I shall get back at it immediately….
Thanks Jim for getting us one chapter closer to the end, Sometimes I consider not reading any more because Combat sucked then ,now and will forever, Although i do feel its helped me with some issues I have with my past. I do enjoy reading even thou I did not have it as bad as your group. 50 years ago this week was my first combat mission, 101St, we were working just a couple clicks south of the DMZ, We took over that area from the Marines that were there. So it was a difficult first week. My 30 days ended Mid oct of 69.
Thanks for saying what you said here Don. The 101st was a great outfit and eventually came down that valley in thunder and blood.
Thanks for being there and doing what you did, even though you did not detail that here.
Semper fi,
Jim
Lt you’re killing me when is the next book coming out?
Thanks for the comment, Grant.
I had hoped to wrap it up by September 30.
Might not happen, but it will be soon.
Semper fi,
Jim
DAMN Lt…bad enough during daylight hours…but in the dark and raining..S*it
Yes, it did indeed suck…and only young age allows for any kind of existence at all. The Gunny was older and I think he
suffered more and had even less relationships there than I did.
Thanks for the comment here.
Semper fi,
Jim
James another great chapter. I hate to try and correct anything spelling or grammar related. But. If you can lay a spotter round near that flat area between the and the well (wall) to the west. Thanks James for laying it all out there for us. Forever Faithful
Thank you, Milt,
Noted and corrected
semper fi,
Jim
As usual ..I saw the posting late at night so I began to read around 3 a.m. …so I was not all awake …but was surprised at the comment on the feet per second of a 106 …we had Jeep mounted 106’s in Recon …and my memory was that they were about the speed of a magnum shotgun …so as usual I had to look it up today ..and HEP 106 is about 1650 feet per second and the flechette round about 1440 feet per second ……and I wondered what was the reason for the 22,000 ?and …think that that may have been the number of flechettes in the round ( could not get the information on the 106 but a 90 mm was about 9,000 and was about half the projectile weight of a 106 which is 10.9 pounds ) . Anyway …I can’t not read this when I see the posting ..no matter what the time …and ..it is fun to be a “checker ” at times …thank you for this story Mr. Strauss ..
The rounds rate of travel merely added to the velocity of the flechettes. The flechettes were not driven
primarily the speed of the projectile they travelled in. They were driven by the two pounds of C-4 that were packed in behind them
and then detonated under the control of the fuse setting for range. As you likely know, the rate of ‘burn’ for C-4 is around 22,000 fps.
Hence the calculation of flechette speed upon reaching primary detonation. The flechettes would have shown drastically from that top velocity
as their weight for inertia purposes was so slight. But still….
Semper fi, and enjoy the fact checking.
Jim
Thank you sir! I have no words to describe the respect I hold for your ability to continue documenting this hell on earth!
Thanks Jerry, and thanks to the others out here like Jerry, who keep me going on dark nights.
Semper fi,
Jim
Hey Lt. Have been reading the comments from 7th night. It seems others have picked up on the comment by Sugar Daddy, “your word is good” , so I am not alone in noting some differences in the dynamic of the relationship between the three of you, Gunny, Sugar Daddy and yourself. Hope these things bode well, rather than ill, for the three of you in particular, as well as the unit as a whole. I may be reading something into this that didn’t exist at the time. Take care Lt..
The relationships were constantly changing and it was all about fear, circumstance and situation ethics.
You did what you had to do and Sun Tzu was all over it. The friend of my friend is my friend and the enemy of my enemy is
my friend kind of stuff.
Thanks for the great comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
I learned the values and commitment of a Marine from my uncle. He was a giant of a man, 6’9″ tall and even taller as he stood his ground in Korea. I always knew the meaning of courage, I watched him live his life well. He didn’t tell me stories of his experience, he showed me in his actions. I was at the USAFA (yes Air Force Academy) in the last months of your war. I have mentioned before my appreciation of you sharing this experience, I have read nearly every word written by veterans, none have come close to bringing me into their experience. I also await every segment. Thank you.
Thanks Chris, much appreciate the depth of your comment. The compliment cannot be overlooked.
It is a great comment and I much appreciate it, especially be written on here.
Semper fi,
Jim
Was just able to pick up where I left off! Shaping up to be a helluva fight!
Sorry about the delay to the next segment Junior. I had a heart issue but I has been resolved.
Back at it…
Semper fi
Jim
James you are most likely helping more guys COME HOME at long last than you think, by this writing about your time in country. And your GRAMMER is corrected in my reading of it by auto. S o don’t worry about the little miss – steps. Just get it out, hope it helps you as much as I feel from the comments it helps others.
I worry about grammar because the work goes from here to the Amazon publishing machine. There is no editing help there so I have to have all the help I can get here
because I can’t afford professional editors…and I secretly believe the guys an gals on here are better anyway.
Semper fi,
Jim
OK, trying to keep track of where you were in during the battle. Hill 975 is the site of the 1st Cav’s battle in April of 1968? The abandoned air field is the A Luoi Airfield? That placed you north of Hill 937 of Hamburger Hill infamy and 4 months later?
Yes, to all that, and one would have thought that the notes taken and experiences accumulated would have been fed back to those of us
coming into the valley later on. None of that happened, of course. I heard about Hamberger Hill when I was in country and in the valley.
Thanks for the careful study and writing about it here…
Semper fi,
Jim
Services didn’t talk to each other very well back then.
The Civil War and the Vietnam War were the two most studied conflicts when I went through IOBC back in the mid 1980’s. I knew I had seen the names of some of the places before, I was pretty sure that it was not from Operation Apache Snow (Hamburger Hill). Then I dug back into the 1st Cav. and found Operation Delaware from the previous year and that was why I found the names to be familiar. 1st Cav. lost over 25 aircraft in a 3 week operation.
Thanks a lot for that history Larry, much appreciate learning more…
Semper fi,
Jim
James, what strikes me frequently is your ability to call in the big guns on target, even if they couldn’t reach where you wished they could, they (you) were effective at keeping the enemy at bay, giving your company opportunities not held before.
I’ve seen a hillside lit up like Christmas lights twinkling in the distance myself, and it truly is an eye opening experience when you realize what those little lights really are !!
Being in command seems to have grown on you too…
Keeping me on the edge of my seat again, can’t wait for the next page.
SEMPER Fi
I can write about it but some of it was just stuff that you almost had to be there to believe.
Recalling some of it back here can be frustrating, however. I only have two vets who saw combat and they
are still pretty closed mouthed about it…more open now since they’ve read my books, but still pretty tough for them.
Thanks for the great comment, as usual.
Semper fi,
Jim
I have a few vet combat friends here with the DAV, and The Order of the Purple Heart, very much like myself in that never said a word about it for many many years.
Just ordered your two book set, & option for the third book..I hope I did it correctly to get them autographed too !!
Thanks.
SEMPER Fi
I will make sure that everything works out, as you have been so loyal and supporting through the production of this odyssey. Thank you so much I too am a life member of the Legion, DAV and the Order of the Purple Heart,
although I never go to meetings. I used my reply to Poppa J in trying out my new way to let guys and gals on here know that I am trying to sell some hardcover books of the first two in the series. So, I am using
this comment reply too because, like with Poppa, I know you won’t be upset or say no. Here it is, the link to order:
IF YOU WANT TO HELP WITH THE STORY: The first two books of the Thirty Days series of books, the third final one to be done very soon, are available in hardcover. I order very few of these because of the expense of having them made. But I have a supply. If you want to help me continue then order the hardcovers signed and inscribed and I will copy and then get them out to you. Here is the link on my website to order those… or rather, here is the link, as that was the verbiage. I am not too good at this! https://jamesstrauss.com/product/now-available-hardcover-autographed-editions-of-first-and-second-days/
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim,
I would like to order a set but not for me. I was wondering if you know of a good home like maybe a DAV or Legion post with a library. Or, maybe a VA hospital that has a library of some type where vets could find them.
I checked with my local library but they were hesitant to accept them, so maybe another of your readers has an idea for a place.
I would entertain other vets on here offering advice. I have left the books at the local VA in numbers and the Legion here, who really did not want them,
and the local libraries around the lake, who also show little enthusiasm for books they do not get from traditional publishers. It’s a tough one.
Getting out in front of the public is almost more difficult than writing the books in the first place.
Thanks for this thought…and let’s see what everyone or anyone has to say.
Semper fi,
Jim
Get well Sir and have a happy Thanksgiving with your family
Thank you, Michael.
Happy Thanksgiving to you and your family
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim,
Thanks for another great chapter. Semper Fi!
Mike VonTungeln
You are most welcome Michael.
Semper fi,
Jim
Hi Jim, wow! I just finished the latest post and comments. Another tense and hair raising segment. I like a lot of those who comment have tense moments waiting for the next one. I was about to turn in for the night but decided to check and this one was there. I hope now that I can get some sleep. As I have said before I was in the Army during these days and never had a good feel for what you guys went through, but after reading what you have written I have a better understanding. I know that unless someone experienced it first hand they can not have the some feeling of what is was really like. Its like you said in one of you replies to a comment earlier in theses comments, and I agree with you. The basic training should be done by combat vets. When I went through basic my Platoon DI Sgt. was a Vet Nam vet. He would get us together and talk to his platoon about things that actually went on. My actual training did not include much of that. You are right on about the need for the combat vet for training. I get a lot out of the comments, at first I didn’t read them but now I read them all. There is a lot to learn from some of the vets who were there. I like some of the others who commit don’t even see the mistakes in grammar or spelling my brain does the auto correct. Thanks for what you have all ready done and keep on keeping on as you can. Look forward to the next one.
Thanks for that very erudite and well thought out comment. Yes, I believe the vets should be instructors at the Basic School, but then I also understand that the Corps
wants young men and women to go, not matter what. For the same reason the military will probably never allow my books to become movies (they will not lend equipment or anything else)
they will not bring in their combat vets to train. They want to continue the mythology that they really created. It is wonderful for recruiting. My book can be primers for those who
might be going into combat but where would they find them? I am limited in getting known. I have my Facebook sites and my website and a great core following of vets but I cannot reach
any more than a few thousand people, which is about nothing in the book world. The people who control the mythology of the military know all that and control the ability of people, like combat
vets to have a voice. Anyway, thanks for such a thought provoking comment and I hope you don’t mind that I ran on and on…
Semper fi,
Jim
Thanks Jim for the reply. I don’t mind you using where ever you wish. Al
Thanks Al, loved that comment, as you could tell….
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim, another fantastic segment. Once again I feel like I am in the mud with you. In reference to your earlier comment about returning vets having no one to talk to, my experience is they can talk to other vets. Once again, I hope writing helps your PTSD. Thanks
I guess that all your edits have been accomplished by the time I read a segment.
Jim
I write out my PTSD, Jim, as best I can. I try to stay busy as hell, along with that when I am
not or cannot be writing. Writing at night is okay because it’s a great excuse for why you are up when
you should be in bed. Staying busy, keeps you younger because movement means you have to use it all.
Thanks for the great comment and the compliments written into it.
Semper fi,
Jim
Hi Jim
Like all of your readers – I am taken by the incredible detail of your experience of what it is like to be in a CZ
Some of us have never experienced such HELL
& some for a short mission
But none the less-
Still it was a taste of the fear of dying
To endure this nonstop for a month is incredible
My question:
Will there possibly be a post 30 Days has September
Maybe a 31 Days has October?
Simper Fi
Duke
The fourth book of the series will be called, appropriately, The Cowardly Lion, and it is about the time from when
I was evacuated to the First Med in Da Nang on through my initiation and service to Richard Nixon at the
Cotton Estate in San Clement, CA. My medical and mental recovery, the end of my service days and the development
of a place to land and recover will all be there, as I go to work as a different sort of ‘Junior’ while still in
a governmental position but with different masters. Thanks for your interest. I wrote the first chapter to that book last week.
Semper fi,
Jim
Another great chapter! I am very happy to heard that there will be a book 4.
Cheers!
Clair
Thanks, Clair, and yes, there has to be a book four with five and six already roughed out (my service in San Clemente
for then-President Nixon).
Semper fi,
Jim
Like many others on here, whenever I get notification of the next segment, I drop whatever I am doing and read it. Also as much as I am affected by the story, the impact of the comments and your responses to them match that impact.
Although I was raised by an English teacher mother and usually home in on grammatical and punctuation issues, the intensity of this segment overcame my natural instincts to the point that all I saw was the story.
Well, that about sums it up for covering all the bases Bob. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I do answer all the comments on here personally. There have been 19,961 comments since we began this journey
together three years ago. I never would have believed that back then and have trouble with it a bit now.
That it has taken three years also surprises me but then I never expected the whole thing to stretch out for
three books that will end with about 1300 pages total, for a 30 days tour. Thanks for liking the writing so much
that the grammatical mistakes just blow by you. Nice compliment there too.
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim, thanks for reliving the hell that you lived thru over there so those of us who were not there can understand some of what happened over there. reading this has helped me understand what one of my best friends went thru and why he had such a hard time when he came home. Thank You!!
The abruptness of the return, from that awful real world to this phenomenal world fashioned back home that we thought was real before we went into combat.
Then we return home with all that knowledge of the true reality of most of the rest of the world…and quite possibly life itself. I had the advantage
of spending many months in a hospital where most of the attendants and support people barely spoke English. The television was in Japanese and nothing about
the war. Then I got home and spent many more months at Oak Knoll Naval Hospital in San Francisco. I was insulated from simply being plopped back into regular
American society and having to make believe it was the real deal. Telling war stories back then had the same effect as it does today…the teller basically
either creates resentment among those who don’t know and didn’t go or it causes the teller to lose credibility. No wonder so many went silent and remain that
way to this very day. Thanks for the great comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
My nephew served in the Marine Corps as did I. I was before Vietnam, my nephew John Holguin was in that ugly war. When he came home he was never right, Vietnam claimed his life about three years ago.
SEMPER FI!
So many boys grew to become troubled men, and then were eventually claimed by that clawing cloying
war, reach out through the years to pull so many back into its awful claws. Thanks for writing about it here
and I am glad that you can now write about it on here.
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim…you talk of the abruptness of the return…I knew guys that flew from the jungle to Saigon on Wednesday…processed out with an “early out” and were walking on the street in San Francisco by Saturday…so they literally when from dodging bullets to civilian status in 3 to 4 days….and they wondered why some people couldn’t cope…
Yes, I had some buffer time, indeed. It sure helped too.
I was certainly not ready to come home, even when I came home.
Going to work after getting a job was really hard because I was nobody
with no power and no respect or anything. Brutal adjustment.
Thanks for the great comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
The “unfolding of the story” is ratcheting up in intensity with every segment, that is for sure. The Thirty Days are winding down and I wonder how much, check, I realize how much this must be affecting you by your comment on the PTSD powering you to keep writing. From Day 1 I have been reading and while I am captivated by these battles, not being a veteran, I cannot fully feel the real impact combat has on you and your Marines. Not even close. The close by impact of 175 rounds, I can sense the tension and uncertainty, still I cannot feel it. Yet, your writing does make my stomach clench and I find myself holding my breath at times while reading. You have my full respect for telling your story and I await the next installment.
Thanks for laying out your own feelings about receiving the data I have been transmitting. This is an unusual format and execution of
the revelation of this series of novels. It came about completely by accident, from beginning to now. It would appear to have a sociological
foundation, as so many contribute to each segment being written, edited, derived and then published. I would have quit long ago and left the
development of the story to lay on the closet floor once more without the men and women on here who simply would not let me, without ever telling
me that they wouldn’t let me….thanks for writing what you wrote and involving yourself in this personal way. I appreciate ad need that kind of support.
This is not an ordinary writing endeavor.
Semper fi,
Jim
Your growth as a commander in less than 30 days is just phenomenal! Common over there?
The ‘classroom’ of instruction was petty intense and the punishment and reward system was a bit skewed
to painful or terminal punishment rather than anything that might resemble reward back here…except for getting to
live on as a different person, I mean. Thanks for the short but meaningful comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
. It was either that, or I was imaging the whole thing.
Imagining?
Thanks for the editing help Mike.
Semper fi,
Jim
Outstanding segment once again Jim! I wish I could contribute better to the editing process but your prose flows so smoothly I tend to miss any typos. I envy your ability to capture this in words. I know what you mean about one thing though–when I go back and read my after action reports from that time it seems like they were written by someone else.
There are some great editors on here. DanC. Man oh man. We have pure stuff in about two days after it appears on here.
There are a lot of guys who pick up most everything. Wonderful.
Cannot thank everyone enough.
Thanks for the compliment of missing so much!!!
Semper fi,
Jim
Well James…I had someone drop a 36 inch in diameter tree today that was only 15 feet from the house…cut and cleared limbs and wood all day…finished off the work in the dark by killing a copperhead about 10 inches away from my boot tip when I noticed movement somehow…and I come in and shower dog tired and see that you have posted another segment…so here I sit reading and re-reading it again because we have been on this journey for years now and I can’t not read the segment when it comes out…and of course, the comments…because you have us all so involved that we want and need to know what happens next…so here I sit two hours later still reading…thanks for sharing your story again and for the speedy turnaround for all of us “addicts” on here that get our healing “fix” by hearing your words and what your following has to say in the comments….
Thanks for the compliments buried lightly in your work, as you write os some of your own life this night. A real pleasure, although it would
not have been so great if that copperhead had been able to strike. The tree stuff here has become like there, and I have had my share of working
with the smallest of the chain saws, the only ones will handle anymore at all. Big ladders and big chainsaws are for the young. I am happy that
the segments give you some solace, as I do not know what and where you picked up the need for such succor and solace. I am glad that this strange
way of presenting the series of books does seem to find a bit of value as long term care. I never expected the telling to take three years,
even as I come upon the end, or at least the end of the beginning…
Semper fi,
Jim
Well, I wrote of my personal life to illustrate the power of your work…it doesn’t matter how I feel, or where I am, or whatever…when I get notification of another posting I have to read it…hell, I have been on the interstate before and gotten notification of another posting and got off at the next exit and sat in a fast food parking lot straining these old eyes to read it on my smartphone…it is just a testament to the quality of your work…I was sitting, in a parking lot, and reading the morning after I had been notified that my son had been hurt while serving in Airborne Combat Infantry…when you talked of the grenade being meant for you early on in your story…and somehow everything hit me at once and I broke down…sitting in my car…some beautiful young lady asked me if I was OK, and I told her I had just found out about my son…that he would be alright, but I was still upset…and she stood by my window for awhile and then we both left…but even then, I was ashamed that I didn’t mention your work and how that too had affected me…but I guess that goes back to our generation’s learn skill of not telling the truth…or just of not telling anything…but you are telling that truth finally…and that is what is so important to so many on here I think…
MARK, I hope that you will not mind that I used your comment to illustrate the presentation of the last segment on my Facebook sites.
It is so poignantly descriptive and obviously straight from the heart. Your son’s involvement and the woman giving you some level of
support and sympathy…all so very real, like the story itself…and I guess that is the truth, the present wound into a story of
the past…no matter how uncommon or unbelievable that seems. Here it is, with the forum influencing in many subtle ways, the telling of
a story that took place fifty years ago….
Thank you for investing in me to be the key writer in this presentation and for allowing me to have. role in your own life.
Semper fi, brother,
Jim
I have to agree with Mark, in that there have been times where I have busy to the max, but when that notification comes, I drop all and take a “reading break”.
I’m not sure why this story has my devoted attention, be it
The descriptive narrative, or the raw openness of the work, and characters within, but you have my undivided attention as soon as a segment pops up on my screen.
I love the fact that there are so many combat vets following this, and giving their feedback.
To all of you guys, I give a huge “Thank you for your service, and your sacrifices. You
ALL are valuable and precious in my eyes.”
What a neat response to Mark’s comment. It is always pretty stunning to me for some of you guys to put the kind of emphasis on the story and
my telling of it. I too love the fact that there are so many real combat vets on here too. Admittedly, I like the credibility it lends to the story
and the fact that I get so very few criticisms about what happened is surprising to me. The longer the story has gone on the more detail that has piled up an dit would be hard for anyone to argue with most of the detail, unless they hadn’t been there.
Thanks for the deeply thought and highly contributing comment Joel..
Semper fi,
Jim
Can’t wait til next section brings back memories from Korea as well as from my 3 tours in Vietnam
Korea is the forgotten war because it was like the Vietnam war.
Few saw the reality of combat and lived to tell the tale. Thanks for writing on
here with all your experience. I am so glad you like the writing…
Semper fi,
Jim
I believe adrenaline is the correct spelling thanks for the truth.
Thanks so much for the editing help and the compliment.
Semper fi,
Jim
good lord, lt. early sunday morning and here I sit in suspense waiting on the next installment. please dont leave me dangling for too long cause this ole vet just cant stand it. simper fi, sir
The story flows out and I have little control over the timing…as I write as I can and as it comes to me, mostly in the night,
but I cannot tell you how much motivation it gives me too have you waiting so eagerly for the next segment.
Semper fi,
Jim
One correction: “or I was imaging (imagining) the whole thing.
Corrected and Thanks, Joel,
Semper fi
Jim
Ohhh Mama, dodo is hitting the fan now, LT thank you for allowing us to be with you as you live through this again, I’m sure it isn’t easy. Stand tall Marine..
I do try to stand tall, or as tall as I am. Having been a Marine I don’t think there is any other way, until our bodies
won’t allow for it, I mean. Thanks for the encouragement that reading comments on here gives me between and even during the writing of the segments.
Much appreciate…
Semper fi,
Jim
James, I was assigned to an Army combat photo group headquartered at Tan Son Nhut in 67-68. Never experienced anything remotely close to what you and your marines went through. You are a great writer and make me feel like I’m there when reading these chapters. Gives me even greater respect, if that’s possible, for all who fought in that war. Look forward to the next chapter.
Yes, Ron, I understand. You photographed but didn’t get to do the real photographs of combat.
There really aren’t very many. You see, no photographers wanted to die either and if you choppered into
the A Shau to film the guys while in combat, well, you were going to die most probably. Hence, the disappointing
combat coverage. Most combat coverage is made up or modeled or faked in the rear area when it comes to the media.
Understandable when you really think about it. The television, movie and literature portrayal is also very mythologically
driven and that mythological structure is totally supported by the military. The military needs young people to go, not to
think and consider or reconsider. My books might help those who are going to make it through the first few days if they
actually are required to face real combat. It might also encourage them to do whatever they might to stay in the rear area.
thanks for the depth of your comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
So I did my usual pass through to if anything has been post. Nothing new but I did note the date that the first chapter of the third ten days was posted on – 11 dec. 2017. A bit more checking and I realized that you covered roughly 6 days with 35 chapters over 2 year period! Wow. Well done! now that got me thinking how long I have been reading your work. At that rate it would be about 6 years. (I don’t know when first started 30 days but I picked it up right about day 1 or 2) Since then I’ve read Bearing Sea a few times, Down in the Valley, another Hawaii novel, Thunder Marine, Star Black and Co., The Cat and now I’m keeping up with Yakuza. Great writing James Strauss, I’ve enjoyed it all greatly. P.S. Star Black is still standing out in some desert wasteland lol…
Amazing Monty, but I am working on Island in the Sand tonight, and now more than you know that.
I am two segments ahead of schedule for Thirty Days and I expect to finish the third book by January.
Then the fourth “The Cowardly Lion” begins…
Semper fi,
Jim
Thank you, Sir, for another intense chapter. Now I’ll have to try to calm down and get to sleep without kicking the wife in the middle of the night.
Semper Fi
Awaiting moderation? Because I’m going to kick my wife? That will never happen while I’m awake. Some times I get animated while dreaming of experiences I had in our beloved Corps.
She’s pretty good at getting out of the impact zone so after 40 years none of my dreams have ever made any kind of contact, thank god.
No, that’s not what I meant and you know it. We, those of us who were in that valley, or elsewhere in similar circumstance, did not come home and beat our wives. We didn’t come home to beat anybody but
ourselves… and we’ve done a very credible job of doing that. Thanks for the reply and I share your company in my dreams brother….
Semper fi,
Jim
Yes, there its that kind of humor to consider…thanks for that Paul…
Semper fi,
Jim
Just LOVE this story and glad I was flying helicopters there in I Corps instead of on the ground. Keep up the GREAT work! Never want it to end.
Glad you were flying helicopters too. It was helicopters that kept us supplied and alive down there under your whirling blades.
It was a helicopter and very brave and shot up crew that took me out, then made sure the First Med worked on me because I was
part of their ‘crew.’ Thank you for my life.
Semper fi,
Jim
What a tense situation!
Lt-
Keep bringing it 🇺🇸
I am not going anywhere but delivering the story, the adventure and the odyssey of the whole thing as we near the end of the beginning…
Thanks for liking what I am writing and then putting it up here to help me along…that’s working!
Semper fi,
Jim
Kudos to those who read this and find any mistakes. When I am reading it, I am there. I smell cordite, hot blood and jungle Spelling and grammar are incident.
Some have said that the imperfections that are there when the segments first come out (I and chuck fix them with the help of you editors on here) give
the story a patina of more reality, as if it is somehow being written right back there from the bush….which in a way, it is.
Thanks for the great comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
Still feeling it. Every time the lightning strikes/flashes and the thunder rolls.
Keep it coming Lt.
Jim
And tonight the sky is covered in bleak darkness and the lightening is flashing and the thunder blasting away.
I am right at home here to write the next segment. There will be no sleep until dawn, when my wife, not knowing her
role at all, will guard my six when my eyes finally close. But the segment will be steeped in the reality of today
with yesterday a part of that, not lost, just waiting to be revealed once again.
Semper fi,
Jim
Much like Tom, the story auto completes any edits for me. The action and suspense make them unnoticeable. Once again Jim, Thank You.
I do not remember all that action until I am involved in it again. I hated the action. I know a lot of readers love
it but it was so fearful to be there and not knowing what was going to maim or kill you but being certain that it would.
And then whatever it was would appear cloaked in the ‘action’ of the night or the moment.
Just my thoughts as I read along like you. I write the segments and then sometimes reread them and feel like I did not
write the segment in the first place, like someone else did…
Strange.
Semper fi,
Jim
that is powerful…
Thanks for the short but powerful compliment Sam. I do get the laconic nature of your transmission, over…
Semper fi,
Jim
I wasn’t there, thank The Higher Power, but thank Jim. That’s all I can say.
Yes, thanks be to God that you did not have to go. You are here, writing what you wrote.
The casualty rate for those in actual combat you already know. 275,000 actually fought on the ground
and of those 362,000 were killed or wounded. Not good odds at all. How many came through with any ability
to think clearly, write and live to be in their early seventies…well, I’m in rarified air indeed.
Thanks for the great comment.
Semper fi,
jim
damm
Great one word compliment Mike, and I thank you…
Semper fi,
Jim
Enemy 50 cal makes one hell of an alarm clock I bet. Totally engrossed in this and feel like I am there as well with the rain beating down. Can’t wait for the next installment.
Yes, to be downrange is to be in the cone of supersonic air waves and its much louder than standing next to a friendly fifty that is going off.
Thanks for the comment. The Ma Duece alarm clock.
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim, As a valley dweller and FO and RECON your story sure stirs the memory banks. Thanks, my Brother, for bringing life to an unsung part of our war SFDD
A real forward observer.
I was that too but it might have been better not to be the commander at the same time.
I would sure liked to have more time and better maps and all that,
and more time and communication with the officers back at the batteries.
They wanted to know and talk a whole lot more than I would talk to them.
I was afraid if they knew the truth about what we were going through they would avoid contact or firing for us.
Why bother kind of thing.
Stupid now, but back then, in my terror driven brand, completely logical.
Semper fi,
Jim
Fantastic chapter James,talk about thinking outside the box! The three new Lt’s are being taught quite the lesson by Professor Junior. How many more hours to daylight and the Skyraiders? I went to EAA in Oshkosh this year for the first time this summer and got to see a Sky Raider up close. Impressive aircraft.
Teaching n combat is so very hard because it takes such great luck to keep anyone alive long
enough to teach them anything! And there’s no time in combat. All the administrative stuff back in the
rear area so common is simply gone. You move. You drink. You eat. You get ammo. You shoot at the enemy
or whomever. More food, water and ammo and move on…
Semper fi,
Jim
I read this segment as soon as it hit the Face screen. Hit me as an episode to reread with a clear head. I have just finished the second read, and am very impressed with the tactics that have confused the enemy since command was forced upon you. This time Charley squared is expecting to teach you guys a lesson that is only one class long. Now I really want to see the outcome of it’s beginning and the fight probably lasting till first light and arriving air assets.
But my wants aren’t why this story is being told. You have me feeling I am observing near your shoulder completely unaffected by the bloody fight beginning. I am of the feeling you are preparing us for the moment that your leadership instaneously transfers to another Marine. That moment I wish had never happened because it had to have involved bodily injury to yourself and the beginning of the journey you are still going through. Thank you is all I can say again for taking up this task. Poppa
Thanks so much for the depth of your comment, a layered depth. Had to read it three times! It is comments like your very own here the that keep me going.
I am also trying to run some sort of effort to sell some books so I can continue financially, since having books printed is so damned expensive today. Here is
my add: https://jamesstrauss.com/product/now-available-hardcover-autographed-editions-of-first-and-second-days/ well, that’s the link to buy the books, first and second
ten days, and here’s the verbiage I wrote to go with it:
IF YOU WANT TO HELP WITH THE STORY: The first two books of the Thirty Days series of books, the third final one to be done very soon, are available in hardcover. I order very few of these because of the expense of having them made. But I have a supply. If you want to help me continue then order the hardcovers signed and inscribed and I will copy and then get them out to you. Here is the link on my website to order those…
Thanks for letting me use your comment reply so that others might see, read and then order. I’m sure that at the expense that I will never produce that many hardcover so hopefully it might be worth it for
vets to buy it and then wait for the value to go up one day soon!
Semper fi, and thanks again Poppa J, my friend…
Jim
James, I got to the pay page. It only offered pay with PayPal or PayPal Credit. I do not have an account and do not want one. How do I pay you for the Special autographed hard cover “Thirty Days Has September.” I have seen a mailing address somewhere in navigating this ordering app. Is that it. I will send you the amount in a check as soon as I find the location. Thanks Sir. James J DeCarlis, Jr
25106 Cinco Manor Lane, Katy TX 77494
Send a good old fashion check and I will get out that day. James Strauss, 507 Broad Street, Lake Geneva, WI. 53147
and I thank you most sincerely,
Semper fi,
Jim
My armpits are wet. An intense night that seems to go on forever. 175s impacting that close must have felt like either deliverance or doom (or both together). I hope you found time to scarf down the C-rats. New installments are always appreciated and immediately read; but always stay in your comfort zone.
A few minor suggestions follow:
“They’ve got their fifty-caliber setup,”
Maybe “set up” rather than “setup”
“They’ve got their fifty-caliber set up,”
There was no tracer attached to it, however, the fiery boom of its detonation
Maybe change punctuation… period after “it” and capitalize “However”
There was no tracer attached to it. However, the fiery boom of its detonation
Jurgen’s flashlight.
Jurgens’ flashlight.
I pushed the poncho liner aside and stared out over the battlefield.
poncho instead of “poncho liner” ?
I pushed the poncho aside and stared out over the battlefield.
He was thinking that, although Jurgens had been written up he probably been written up for a lessor decoration.
Maybe add “had” before “been”
He was thinking that, although Jurgens had been written up he probably had been written up for a lessor decoration.
were no five ‘paragraph orders’ prior to an attack operation, as they had been in training
Maybe change “they” to “there”
were no five ‘paragraph orders’ prior to an attack operation, as there had been in training
OR if “they” refers to the LTs then drop the “been”
were no five ‘paragraph orders’ prior to an attack operation, as they had in training
Blessings & Be Well
As always your eyes prove invaluable.
Thank you, Dan.
Semper fi,
Jim
Three 106 flechette rounds on target and then a “We might have affected them, sir.” The understatement made me laugh out loud when I read it. I’ve seen what a salvo of four HE rounds did to a patch of jungle and whoever was manning the NVA 50 that was in it and can only imagine what the flechette rounds can do. Another well-written chapter, Lt., Semper Fi…
Every time I saw the effect of the flechette rounds in real life I felt that they should be outlawed.
I hated seeing those shocked and open-eyed bodies, probably knowing what hit them but just for a very few milliseconds.
Combat is such a mixed hodgepodge of near indescribably emotions and feelings….that stay and then evolve with you.
Semper fi,
Jim
Such a riveting narrative. Too much so for me to see any editing needed. I can’t wait for the next.
thanks so much H Kemp. You have been there from the beginning and I much appreciate you sticking with me through the tough stuff near the end.
Semper fi,
Jim
TWO THUMBS UP!
Was it mentioned in this segment how much dark time would have to pass before daylight when Cowboy and the other Air Boys would be on station there in the valley to assist?
Would there be any hope of starting a fire that would allow Cowboy to orient and engage the enemy position and let loose on the enemy even before daylight?
I pray that Cowboy never comes down with the flu or something and has to call in sick and can not be part of the engagement of the enemy.
Keep cranking, Jim!
Nothing except explosives would burn during the monsoon rains. Not even heat tabs unless kept protected.
And the amount of explosives it would have taken to expose our position, well, we needed that stuff for
better use against the enemy. And the Skyraiders, at least our Skyraiders, did not fly in the night and heavy rain.
Semper fi,
Jim
It is for our living moments, Lieutenant…that a story might continue to touch one and all. To wonder of sunlit skies…beyond our deepening storms. To dream of unyielding hope, against unfathomable fear. To transform our witnessed worries unfolding, to palpable relief.
Circumstances heretofore, both known and unknown. And through which each of us must somehow struggle to weather. Until at last, we succumb…to life’s only guarantee.
On behalf of every parent, and for the sake of every brother ever lost to a moment of “then”,…”Now”, is all that matters against each and every one of our forever unknowable, “when”.
Thank you, Jim…for this segment. For me, it exemplifies those moments a surviving, combat veteran lives with, until the end.
That you’d survive to access your own ability to place this reader right next to you in every moment of your back then…is testament to grace, and its importance to our healing, “now”.
As well, I dare say as hopefully, against any possible future…”might be”!
Semper fi,
ddh
D.D. Hayes. Brilliant, of course. Writing is merely the expression of what one is thinking coupled with an ability to use language to describe it. Of course, it sure helps if
that expression is grounded in high free flying intellect…and that is what you see and read when you take the stuff in that Hayes lays down. Thank you D.D. I cannot, of course,
adequately describe how much I appreciate you following me along and then nipping about my ankles until you have my full attention…which you have.
Semper fi,
Jim
WOW, as an Army veteran of the era who did not see action in VN, I am in awe of the details coming from your words. I am living through this with the sounds, sights and yes even the smell of the jungle filling my mind. I hold the utmost respect for all who served there and lived the hell on earth.
Thanks most sincerely John. Many guys don’t want to admit they were in the rear areas and not the actual combat. Looking at the stats though
it is so much better to have been in the rear and the guys who went into combat did not come out the proud, although they came out the few.
They came out afraid, lonely and hurt and came home the same way. Thanks for soaking up the story and liking what you read. Helps me for you to write that
here and also for you to share a bit of you on here…
Semper fi,
Jim
I took my right hand off the burr of the Colt and waited to see if the handshake thing would be repeated, but Sugar Daddy merely grunted. (butt of the colt)
My first correction in a while. I’m so immersed in the story line, I can’t see the errors.
Thanks for you tremendous effort.
Thanks Tom for the editing work. Made the correction and much appreciate the compliment and your ability to spot stuff like that.
Semper fi,
Jim
If you can lay a spotter round near that flat area between the water and the well (wall) to the west,
Got it Michael, and thanks for the help.
Semper fi,
Jim
I have been in combat on and off for about a year in Italy as an infantry rifleman. I have never ever experienced what you and your Marines went thru. My CIB pales in contrast to your experience, and that is only in one month. Your writing is superb. I can’t wait for your next episode but am sad that it will soon be over. You have really moved me. In some ways it brings back the intense fear feeling and the adrenalin that goes with it. But it also makes me proud of you guys in Vietnam. I salute you and your guys.
Thanks Bob, for the great compliment inside your comment. Yes, it was one hell of a one month ride. I am always shocked that I lasted a full month.
So many did not. Thanks for laying down some of your own life experience here, as I know the other readers love to read and enjoy those contributions.
There is stuff on here that has been told to nobody since it happened so many years ago, I am certain.
Semper fi,
Jim
Let, my admiration for your grunts on the ground grow with every part of your story, our teams were like mosquitos against people, in your fight I see more of a pack of dogs against the bear, a hell of a fight, Lt.
Dogs against bears. Interesting. We were the bears, though, and they had a whole lot
more dogs. You make me think, like so many commenters on here. Thanks for the compliment too…
Semper fi,
Jim
I see now what you were talking about. Just remember that all of Basic School process is designed to get multiple commands, Btn on down on the same “intent”. Then once in contact each unit adapts to stay alive….which is what you are doing. I be
I believe the NVA are wondering what they had to do to survive also!
S/F
The Basic School should know, and if it does know, and I do not see how it could not, given the returning officers who lived through combat and could advise,
then it should teach the reality and the variations on that reality. It should not be like a place that is training officers to take over units made of obedient
Prussian wooden soldiers. It should openly discuss deliberate friendly fire and what to do about it. It should face right into the racial issues and deal!
Now there are women in combat to consider. I have no idea what that means, except a lot of women are going to dead the next time there are real war engagements.
Semper fi, and thanks my friend,
Jim
The Basic School you and I attended was 18 weeks, the Corps had exploded to a place where 2ndLt made Capt directly. Westmorland’s blind attempt to convince DC we were winning had commands at all levels BSing stats….There were very few that had actual combat experience. Of the officers, Korean vets were LtCols and the NCOs only past over GySgts were close to combat…Company level. Everyone was learning and the NVA had been at war on their ground for over 20 years. If you move through our Corps now of combat vets you will see an entirely different Marine….as I saw in Afghanistan and Iraq. But it is still a clusterF at the senior POLMIL level. S/F my Friend
You were there…above me in that A6. You were there…later in Iraq and Afghanistan…this time on the ground, but around. I cannot deny your wisdom, it is too significantly founded on life experience I know you possess.
My own is significant, as well, but different. Perspective positions will do that. We were not Marines in the Middle East, we were something else again. You are right about the Basic School, although the Corps had a
way of teaching that made it seem that everyone teaching you knew exactly how it was and what you had to be prepared for. I remember Captain Poolaw, my OCS company commander saying into my ear once, on a long hike.
“Most of this is shit. I was just there. Keep running and carry more weight. Conditioning is everything over there. You are going to be running away from everything.” I had no clue until later. I too saw and
experienced ‘different’ Marines in the Middle East. I wondered if they were tough enough. They sure were bright and trained and good enough. But almost none of them were in pitched combat. Little vignettes or
those horrid IED things. Suicide bomber here and there. Not down and dirty moving low covered in mud, leeches, mosquito repellant and agent orange into a hard rain jungle night. And then the enemy after and during all
of that. I believe the guys and now gals in the Middle East would be tough enough. I hoped then and do so now, the they never found or find out if they were or are tough enough. When you become tough enough, you do not
come back as or to the same package.
Semper fi, and your friend,
Jim
Keep at it Sir….mind blowing!
Thanks, Dick, for the great compliment and I will certainly keep at it…
Semper fi,
Jim
Outstanding !! Waiting like was there to learn what is next. Thanks
Thanks so much for your own thanks and also for the great underused Marine Corps compliment…outstanding.
Semper fi,
Jim
Need an “end quote “ after Sugar Daddy tell you your word is good
Got it Ed, and thanks so much for the help. When the final edit is done it was better but then we put it
up on the machine and there’s an internal word spell kind of editor that changes the strangest of things.
We are just learning that we have to reread again once the final goes up!
Semper fi,
Jim
I have learned that inexperienced editors often corrupt the content. Trusting your readers will prove to be a good idea.
The only editing we do on here and in the books has to do with spelling and corrections of placement (like north and south, etc). The material stays intact
almost completely because I review and re-edit all edits. This is one pure series of books when it comes to the work coming out of me. I don’t use the Internet
for reference, although sometimes I am tempted. I really have it all in my mind so there’s little need, except for rare situations when missing a tracer color or
getting that somehow wrong in memory takes place.
Thanks for the interesting and applicable comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
This release really effected me more than any so far you have written , as it brought back vivid memories of the 50 calibers we faced at Khe Shan , and the sounds of the 175’s at Camp Carroll . War can be defined as mass confusion , and quick action by military forces , comprised of men scared to death on both sides . You covered ll this in so much stark detail it really hits home . You may have have started as a ” JR ” , but you jumped to ” Senior ” , really quick !!
God gave me some special talents, and those I was able to bring to bear over time.
God also gave me the Gunny to get me through to the point where I could apply those talents.
I never did and never have forgotten that.
Thanks for the depth of your comment and letting me see your heart written in your words here…
Semper fi,
Jim
great again Sir!
Thanks so much Roger. I am bent over moving through, this part not so easy but then what was easy over there…
Thanks for the encouragement.
temper fi,
Jim
I was with B/1/12, 1st Cav. LZ Bird just across river night it was mostly over run, Christmas 1966. LZ saved by two 105mm beehive rounds fired inside perimeter. 🤔 My location was only 2 or 3 hundred yards from “scrimmage” . Weird hearing lots of firing suddenly stop when first round fired. A minute later second round fired and firefight petered out😋 Charles didied. We spent next two weeks policing the country side. Weird hearing beehive 1st time, but loved them. 11C2P mortar/FO. K
No base with 105 artillery pieces armed with beehive rounds was ever over run in the Nam war.
That round is something else entirely when it is properly fused and fired by a trained crew.
No charging enemy in the open or even under light cover has any chance at all against it.
Semper fi, and thanks for your personal addition of experience.
Jim
It’s been coiling like a snake, this story, tighter and tighter, and now it’s about to cut loose and strike.
Yes, the story is building to action and it’s definitely going somewhere, indeed! Thanks for the attention, care and enjoyment
you are reflecting back upon me.
Semper fi
Jim
Fantastic segment again Jim. Please don’t be in a rush to complete by September 30 if it could impact the high quality of your writing. Take your time, get it down with your amazing personalization that draws us all in.
One edit suggestion:
Search and replace all “Hutzler” with “Hultzer” (many places).
Chris S.
Thanks a million for the editing help. Corrections already made and a few more too.
Appreciate the attention and care too, but there is no stopping me now. The course of the story must play out and it has to do so
as it wants to be laid down in front of me…
Semper fi
Jim
LT. no matter where I’m at or what I’m doing when one of your chapters comes in, I’ve got to stop and dive into it. Keep it coming as long as your mind can handle it. Thanks helps me feel like I’m not in the shot by myself.
I had one of those nights last night. A vietnam vet was visiting me overnight. Uncommon.
He slept upstairs. But at three a.m. there I was in the dark downstairs observing the great fields of fire
that surround my home out in the country. There was nobody there. I knew that. But there I was waiting.
Today I am tired but still writing this night. Using the PTSD to power me through the story. Wanting to fight so badly if forced to
and then hoping against hope that ‘opportunity’ will never arise again. Not logical, but there it was.The veteran didn’t wake up.
He slept soundly, not knowing his flank security was out and on guard.
Thanks for the comment, and the most sincere kind of compliment…
Jim
Caught most of the Hutzlers but missed five:
4th para, 2nd line from top:
transmitted. Hutzler came back
5th para:
“They’re not using any tracers,” I said to Hutzler. “What can
15th para from top, 3rd line from the bottom:
night returned to full dark. Hutzler
11th para from bottom, 1st line:
expose Hutzler who would be laying
11th para from bottom, last line:
Hutzler
As always, grateful for each installment and more grateful for your Service.
Chris S.
Thank you again, Chris.
I believe all now corrected
Semper fi, Jim
Sitting on my screened porch on the Delaware shore listening to the rain always makes me think of being on primeter guard in Chu Lai. Then this episode pops up and I am really drawn back.
Wish we could send in a flight of F4Bs and do some serious damage to the bad guys but unfortunately that would give new meaning to danger close.
One of our RIOs that I knew personally is on the wall because his plane blew up bombing in the Valley.
I am sorry about the RIO. The A Shau was a very difficult place for fast movers to unload ordinance. The valley, in the place I was in further down south, is deep
and the walls almost totally vertical. Coming down the valley low enough to drop ordnance in one of those things meant that the plane would basically have to transit the whole valley or pull up steeply and take fire from the top of the cliff walls as they climbed without being able to return fire. The Skyraiders worked out the best and the A6 too, although there were never many of them available to call in. Thanks for the information and thanks for the compliment.
Semper fi,
Jim
Corrections may have accidentally been un-done (?)
I still see many “Hutzler” in this segment, they should all be “Hultzer” to be consistent with all earlier segments. Too many to delineate, I recommend another try at search and replace?
Eagerly looking forward to the next segment!
Thanks, Chris,
Fixed these I hope and going back through older segments
Semper fi,
Jim
Looks like I accidentally hit “opt out” of comment replies (small button on my iphone screen, sorry). I didn’t mean to do that. I don’t see how to remedy that and turn replies to comments back on. Can you help me?
Thanks,
Chris S.
What type of device do you have?
It’s another busy night dam rain ,mud and NVA can’t get much worse. Hang in there till daylight good segment Thanks
I love storms, the smell, the lightening, the thunder, the rain, and all of it. I was frightened over there, but never of the weather.
I knew the enemy was afraid of the weather and tended to hide when it was pretty bad. That gave me an advantage. To love the night and
the inclement weather is to have the advantage over those who do not…and that modification of my entire psychology (I had to have a light on to sleep as a kid)
came near instantly and has stayed for the rest of my life. I write on without the fear, not of the weather, but a bit of trepidation about the unfolding of
the story.
Semper fi,
Jim
Guy L. Jones
FEARS OF THE NIGHT
Into the night my fears take me.
Into the night my fears hold me in their grip.
Into the night my fears hold my soul bound in a cold terror.
Into the night my fears cause me to cry out.
Into the night my fears try to stop me from fighting back.
Fighting back I do for I awake in a cold sweat.
Knowing I have once again survived another night in a place in my mind called Nam.
For I have returned to the living to tell my tale to all who would listen.
Wonderful poem, Stephen, just wonderful….
Semper fi,
Jim