The Gunny left me with my watery coffee, squatting in the soft-glistening dark. Our company commander was going to the rear to get a silver star, which was no small decoration, or at least it had been discussed that way while I was in training. He was going to get it for something I’d mostly planned and then, with the Gunny’s help, executed. I wasn’t going to the rear for a decoration. No wonder there would never be a medal for saving the kid in the river. I wondered if the captain would be back, or whether there’d be another supply of officers sent in to replace him, and the others who’d not been so fortunate as Casey. And then there was the matter of the grenade. Pilson indicated that I’d thrown it, which was true, but was Pilson’s witnessing of that event, in almost the dead of night, not in fact a near tacit admission that he’d thrown it first? And what would the Gunny do it if was Pilson, his own radio operator before Casey showed up? If it wasn’t Pilson then that left Jurgens, Sugar Daddy or one of their minions. I didn’t trust either, as far as I could throw them.
I tossed the remainder of my cooling liquid, barely recognizable as coffee, into the water flows running by on either side of my boots. How was it that the rain could continue in the heavy volume it was falling? How did that much water stay up in the air long enough and in such overwhelming supply to do that?
I moved across the slanted terrain to my pack. The Gunny would be back whenever he came back. The coming potential nightmare of our move was something I wanted to put out of my mind for a few minutes. The company would have to ease down the hillside, slipping and sliding its way to the bottom. Once there, likely in squads in line, it would begin heading north close in against the angle of the hill, with jungle and the raging river on its left flank. In almost dead dark conditions. How was the point going to be able to see anything at all? Only the incline of the hill on our right would allow for any guidance. And what of the hopefully small enemy force that had forded the river when it was not so forcefully running, and attempted to take our northern flank earlier? Would they be sensitive enough, or even able to detect us moving in the misery of the flowing water, mud and hard steady rain? Finally, the enemy somehow understood where we were going. I just knew it. Did that mean that they were ready for us when we got there, or even along the way? The fact that the fifty-caliber had been right there, very quickly mounted on the ridge across the river, minimized that likelihood, as the gun, tripod and ammo weighed hundreds of pounds to transport.
I worked my way under the dead Marine’s poncho, wishing the Gunny hadn’t told me about its origin. I tried to fidget around in the sort of semi-clamshell gouge Fusner and the scout team had dug for me into the hillside. There was nothing truly dry anywhere under the poncho, so I gave up. I ate a can of ham and mothers, some crackers and then a can of peaches, or something that vaguely tasted like peaches. The sweet liquid went down smoothly, however. I felt under my chin, but pulled my hand back immediately. My neck was a mess, although I knew the leeches that had eaten there only left surface entries. Fusner had told me that the leeches were mutants who’d learned to let their hosts live so there’d be more blood for their children. I cringed at the thought of toddler leeches running around just beyond the edges of my poncho, although I knew Fusner’s information was mostly based on his childish imagination. In spite of the Gunny’s assessment of my mental state, I knew I was a long way from falling in love with leeches, or the awful penetrating and pounding monsoon rain.
I wrote home to my wife about some flowers I’d notice the day before, the sound of the river rushing by down in the valley below me, and about our commander getting a Silver Star for leading the company. I tried to find a reason he might have been decorated for that had nothing to do with death, shooting and the violence of what I was living in, but couldn’t think of anything. I wrote that Casey was getting the medal because it was his turn to get one in the battalion.
My batteries for the pin hole flashlight I’d assembled were going. I rushed to finish the letter. I only had three plastic bags. One had to be for my maps. The second was for my stationary, stamps, and envelopes. The third one was for the morphine I carried in my right thigh pocket. I pulled out the morphine. I’d only had to use it once. I liked having it in case I needed it myself, which was selfish I knew, but I shoved that kind of thinking away as best I could. Casey had taken over as commanding officer, but nothing had been said about the terminal morphine package I carried. No matter how I twisted and turned my thoughts, however, I couldn’t see the captain administering morphine to anyone under dire circumstance. Was my responsibility there ended, or what? I checked the syrettes, in their little cardboard boxes. The syrettes themselves were waterproof. I realized that only the morphine syrettes mattered. I returned the morphine to my pocket without the bag. I needed the bag for the letter I’d finished so I’d have it instantly available when the resupply chopper came in. If it came in. There was no getting comfortable so I just lay there, my back pressed into the wet ground. I closed my eyes, thinking that I should check the Omega, but didn’t.
I felt a push against the side of my poncho. I thought it was Fusner getting me out of whatever state of suspended animation I’d gone into.
“Sir,” a voice whispered, under the edge of the material, almost too soft against the beat of the rain to hear.
I pushed up on one side of the poncho and Pilson slipped in next to me. A bolt of fear went through my body, but there was nothing I could think of to do. My position wouldn’t allow me to spring out of the clamshell hole, and my .45 was awkwardly trapped by Pilson left hip pressing in against it.
“It wasn’t me,” he said, continuing to whisper.
“Wasn’t you, what?” I asked, although I immediately knew what he had to be talking about.
“I didn’t throw the grenade, but I did see you toss it, after you picked it up.”
I thought for a few seconds about his admission that he’d seen me pick up the unexploded M26.
“Why didn’t you tell the Gunny that right off the bat, about me picking it up?” I asked.
“I didn’t want to be next,” Pilson said, this time his voice rising to almost a normal tone.
I didn’t say anything, my mind racing. If it wasn’t Pilson then who could it be?
“The Gunny knows,” Pilson said. “Everyone’s talking about it.”
“Who the hell is everyone?” I couldn’t help but ask. “Out here, in this awful fucking mess, who is everyone?”
“Talk to Fusner. We’ve all got Prick 25s and we all talk off frequency on them most of the time.”
“So what’s the talk about me?” I asked, knowing I shouldn’t ask. Real officer material would never ask an opinion of himself to be given by an enlisted Marine.
Pilson stopped talking for almost a minute while we both listened to the rain beat on the outside of the poncho. I found out during that brief moment where the mosquitos had gone. They were assembling on and around me in my hole, no doubt reacting to the warm moisture under the poncho. I started slapping the mosquitos while I waited for Pilson’s analysis. I didn’t want to make any move Pilson thought suspicious, like going for my repellant might do. I still wasn’t certain he was telling me the truth and he was close in beside me and might misgauge what my movement might portend. I thought about the off net communications of the RTOs and realized it explained a lot I’d not known. No wonder the company could get up as one and move out together. The radiomen filled everyone in, but not the supposed leaders.
“They think you’re crazy,” Pilson finally replied. “Crazy, undependable, and disloyal, but gifted. They think you’re a bad officer, but the best bad officer we’ve had in some time.”
I took a deep breath and held it. Disloyal was the only word in the company’s conclusion that shocked me. I breathed out again, determined to give Pilson nothing emotionally. There’s no way to come back or build a defense when you get a bad peer evaluation. The Basic School had proven that to me. Nobody had proven themselves more equipped to deal with what the training had said was in store for us, and I’d won the top award to prove that, but they hadn’t liked me. I was in almost the exact same situation I’d been in back at TBS, except there they didn’t tell you how you did at anything until the very last days.
I felt Pilson was telling me the truth. The phrase “truth hurts” came to my mind.
“Okay, so I don’t think you threw the grenade,” I said, to avoid further discussion about my conduct in the company, and also to allay his fears and maybe promote my own safety at the moment.
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate that. I was pretty afraid.”
“Afraid of what?” I asked, kind of understanding the man’s seemingly real relief, but not really.
“That disloyal thing, sir,” Pilson replied, again his young voice transmitting nothing but believable tones and words. “I was afraid you’d kill me before I got a chance to talk to you. The Gunny said you wouldn’t because he’d talked to you, but I was worried.”
“Corporal Pilson,” I said, my voice going low, “I don’t exactly have a track record of killing Marines in this unit.”
“Well, I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean that. I meant that nobody seems to last very long who goes against you.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. It was an improvement over what he’d said just before, but not much of one.
“We’re moving out just as soon as the Gunny returns, given that our C.O. approves,” I said, wanting the uncomfortable conversation to be over.
“Yes, sir,” Pilson replied, struggling to get out from the shallow ‘grave’ my scout team had dug. “I’ve got to get back.”
I noted that some strength had returned to the corporal’s voice in his last words. I sat up and rubbed on repellant, although my personal collection of mosquitos didn’t seem to notice. I wondered if the conversation I’d had with Pilson would make its way around the company on the radio operator’s subterranean net. And would it make any difference if it did?
The Gunny was back only moments after I’d abandoned my hole and left it to the mosquitos. The rain itself was less offensive, especially after I took off my helmet and washed that out too. No more mosquitos and, hopefully, I wouldn’t be crawling on my belly in the mud in order to bring aboard some more of the ‘lovable’ leeches.
“Casey agreed,” the Gunny said. “We can’t stay here on the side of the hill, he concluded, and there’s no place else to go except back the way we came and that would be a worse climb than this hill in the rain. But he wants to see you before we kick off.”
“See me?” I asked, in surprise. “What for?”
“He didn’t say,” the Gunny answered, going to work getting his pack ready and his poncho on. “Maybe something about the detail.”
“What detail?” I said, wondering about what Casey might have to say. I’d already adjusted my night defensive fires in my mind but I needed a few minutes with my map to get the grid coordinates down. We’d be moving damn close to the rushing river and it was going to be ticklish not letting Cunningham know exactly where we were, so I could bring artillery in closer than the rules of engagement allowed.
I informed Fusner, and then the rest of the scout team about the impending move, and to have my stuff ready to go. Nobody was going to be wearing heavy packs climbing down the hill, not unless the entire company was to risk crashing into the jungle below in one stuck-together muddy ball, as my team had been earlier. I made my way the short distance to Casey’s rebuilt exploded-mess of a command post. I crouched down at the opening to his snapped together poncho covers and pulled up an edge. I didn’t have to say anything, as his face was right in front of mine.
“I wondered when you’d show up,” he said. “We’re going to cross the line of departure in twenty minutes so synch your watch. I’m going down with First Platoon. Even in the dark this ‘run to daylight’ thing should work since nobody can see or hear a damn thing, including them.”
Synch my watch, I wondered, but then ignored the movie script comment before answering him. “I have to take a few minutes and set the night fires for Cunningham,” I said, before immediately regretting the comment. Was Casey still sensitized about accepting fire from an Army battery? It had been one of his hot points only days earlier. But there was no comment from the man about that.
“You got your map?” he asked, flicking his flashlight on under his combined poncho covers. I pulled out the plastic bag containing my map, and knelt on one of his poncho liners to work with my grease pencil. I quickly covered the ten kilometer course of our intended march using as many grid coordinates. I wrote the codes on the paper and then committed them quickly to memory. When I was done I erased the grease marks with my hand and looked up.
Casey had been watching over my shoulder with some intensity, I noted.
“Sir?” I asked, folding the map into quarters and putting it back in my bag.
“How do you do that, Junior?” he asked, his voice low and intense.
“Do what?” I asked, surprised, and scooting back a bit toward the opening. Suddenly, out in the rain seemed a more comfortable place to be than inside Casey’s hooch.
“Memorize that stuff,” he said. “I saw you do that. Memorize all those places we might need artillery.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied, not knowing what else to say. The captain stared at me so strangely I felt I had to say something more. “Fort Sill. They teach us as forward observers to do that at the artillery school.”
“I don’t think so,” he said, but that’s not what’s on my mind.”
I wondered what was on his mind but didn’t get a chance to ask before he continued.
“They’re calling me Captain Crunch, like the cereal, and it’s demeaning,” he said, his facial expression deadly serious.
I stared at his head. He was wearing his helmet that was partially crushed in on one side. I thought he was making a joke but he didn’t smile. I didn’t know how to answer. He was calling me Junior and his helmet was half crushed in and the Marines were referring to him as Captain Crunch. I knew that had to all be terribly funny but I couldn’t laugh.
“I believe the cereal is called Cap’n Crunch,” I replied, not knowing what else to answer.
“Not funny,” he said, although there was no anger in his voice.
“No, sir,” I replied. “Will that be all?”
“You move with the Gunny and Fourth Platoon taking up the rear. I’ll be with Jurgens up at the point in case we run into trouble. If I call you up, then come quickly.”
“Aye aye, sir,” I answered, realizing that Casey wanted to get to the old landing zone as quickly as possible and saw that being with First Platoon would probably accomplish that. There was little doubt that the company would be spread out almost a full kilometer or more on the move.
“I’ll be flying out of here into An Hoa in the morning. Rittenhouse is going back with me.” He turned off his flashlight before opening the edges of the poncho cover. I got out and stood up. I walked a few paces back toward my scout team and my stuff before stopping in my tracks.
“Rittenhouse,” I breathed. “Rittenhouse,” I whispered again. “Of course, how could I have missed it? The daily reports. The threat to his power.”
I started half-walking and half-crawling along the side of the dripping mud hill, my fingers digging into the soggy slimy dirt with vigor. I made it back to where the Gunny stood, like a big dripping statue of black onyx. A wind kicked up and drove the rain down at an angle into us.
“The wind’s up,” he said. “That means the rain will pass, at least for a time,” he finished.
“Rittenhouse,” I hissed across the short distance between us.
“You’ll never see him again, once the choppers pull out in the morning, just like I said.”
“Rittenhouse,” I repeated, moving toward my pack and my team.
“Let him be,” the Gunny said, from behind me. “He’s more trouble than he’s worth. We’ll have a new clerk in a few days.”
I didn’t say anything in reply. There was nothing to be said. Rittenhouse, who’d tried to blow me apart and almost accomplished it, was going to the rear to spend his time safe and sound back there until he went home. I, and the rest of the company, would be where we were, inside the nightmare of a killing cauldron of bloody enemy fire and rain soaked misery.
The company moved. In some sort of seemingly organized ballet the deadly Marine rifle company moved down the hill, slowly sliding and slogging along, Fourth Platoon holding the bottom perimeter as the rest of the men threaded their way through to then turn and head north, one after another.
When I reached the bottom I stood waiting for Sugar Daddy to come forward and encounter me. My fears of the small enemy force on our side of the river attacking proved unfounded. The deep thundering roar of the river could be heard through the rain, but nothing more. It was impossible to see almost anything but vague forms moving only a few feet away. Any force more than twenty yards away might as well be a mile away or more.
All of a sudden the big fifty-caliber opened up again, this time from much further away, its huge green tracers zipping over our heads, to impact into the mud of the hill we’d already left. My suspicions were confirmed. The enemy did not know we were on the move, although I knew it would not take them long to find out. With luck, the company could make it the whole ten clicks in only a few hours and be set up to recon and take the landing zone by dawn.
I looked around me until I found Nguyen’s big reflecting eyes looking back.
I moved toward him slowly, without giving away any intent, I hoped. I stood next to him, waiting to join the tail end squad of Fourth Platoon. Sugar Daddy came out of the dark and stood a few feet away. There was nothing to be said. Except to Nguyen.
“Rittenhouse,” I whispered, almost under my breath.
Nguyen’s head turned slightly, and I saw him look at my face, even though his was mostly invisible. Both of us stared for a brief few seconds, until he blinked. And then he was gone.
<<<<<<<Beginning | Next Chapter >>>>>>>
Hello Jim. Interesting read. I have a question and it’s probably a long shot. But do you remember Rittenhouse’s first name. I have a cousin by that last name who was over there as a tunnel rat. He did two tours. He came back state side in the early 70s. I don’t much about him. Just looking for information.
Russel or Nathan. I am not sure Rick, but remember, that name I used, he was a real Marine of the era and served with me as a clerk
later while I waited to medical out…but he neither died nor was he part of the Vietnam company through the story. I have changed names
to protect some of the identities.
Thanks for asking though.
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim, I am so glad you wrote this stuff down when you did and let it build/fester to reach the time when you decided to write these episodes. I spent about two years with the same 100 Shipmates and sadly, I don’t remember half of their names. One would think that spending that amount of time in a war zone with the same people that you would remember everyone’s name because they would be committed to memory.
I am sure I am not the only one here that says that this would make a great documentary film. I watched the one that was on TV, I believe that men in a war reach deep to decide to make themselves get through each and every event.
Keep writing.
Leo
I remembered all of the men’s names in the company for years. In fact, something I’m not proud to share here,
I used to turn quickly and see them, in a curved line behind me. Just staring back. That finally stopped and I could relax
a bit. The names started to go. I went to a counselor I paid privately because back then you did not want to be in the system for mental
problems (maybe that still holds). He was shocked when I told him I remembered my men’s names. He started writing but then stopped.
It was too much for him. I wonder if it wasn’t too much for me too. But I got through to here and I’m okay. Thanks for the comment and
no, they are not going to make a documentary because the regular public and the producers are never going to believe this shit. It’s not in them.
It don’t mean nuthin.
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim, this is a fantastic, eye opening read. I grew up in the 60’s but never experienced the hell of Vietnam. I have friends that did and not one ever discussed their time there, and I never pushed them to. When will this come out in book form? I want to give a copy to each of my children. When they see pictures of someone weeping in front of the Vietnam Memorial, they need to truly understand what that person is feeling. That is probably not possible, but I think your writing can help us try. Sir, thank you for your service.
Thanks Harold. Did not know it was going to be what it’s become when I pulled the old manuscrpt
from the closet floor. I had forgotten so much of what was in it but the names of so many things cast me back.
Thanks for liking it. The first book “The First Ten Days” will be out sometime this coming week on Amazon…or so
I pray. We are already a full month behind on it but we wanted it to be just right.
Semper fi,
Jim
You should have mentioned to Capt. Casey that Fort Sill is a Army Artillery School!
Thanks Russell. I’m not sure Casey at the time was capable of inputting that data,
much less a whole bunch more relevant shit!
Thanks for the comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
I am enjoying the hell out of this read. It is mesmerizing. Draftee myself Jan. ’68. 11B of course. Did second tour (short – 6 Months) in II Corps out of Kontum province at Camp Holloway with the 170th AHC as door gunner with the Buccaneer platoon(Guns)and have flown over and down into A Shau several times. I have a little knowledge of the topography you describe and am pleased to be able to. Please continue to keep many of us spellbound. Chris Greening
Man, now that’s a resume. I can see you sitting on the side of that chopper, facing out and into the wind.
Sweeping down that valley, running from north to south…knowing that there are some Army and Marines down there
just loving you while the enemy sees too and cowers. those were the days and the times….my friend… and brother…
thanks for the air, many…
Semper fi,
Jim
James,
Thanx for your reply to my comment. It pleased me much. I know you survived and that pleases me the most. Live long, live well. Be well. Chris G
Thank you Chris. Yeah, I made it. How could that be? It simply was not possible, and hence one more of those many
seeming coincidences I’ve been unable to explain away using physics or probability theory. God. Was it God? And if it was, then why?
Here I am, just as you remember me, and I’m not up on that wall because I went and looked, and then checked the register down near the end
to make sure. Thanks for writing and thanks for still caring.
Semper fi, for all the guys who never really got to come home…to make it.
Jim
Even if Rittenhouse gets back to the world in 1 piece, he will pay forever. Thank the good Lord I never even thought real hard about doing something like that. I think every one had it as a passing thought but we kept it in its place, far away.
Mike. I think it happened a whole lot more than any of us thought, even at the time.
What with the combat survival mindset it was extremely difficult to form and maintain
tribal behavior that extended all the way out to company size. Different times, conditions,
and even project transition was changing everything all the time…and there is no motivator
greater than fear…which was running rampant…
Semper fi,
JIm
Never had anyone frag our officers… though a few should have been…read one time that the reason we were out in the bush most of the time was that they kept the trouble makers on the hill away from the grunts that were dependable…didn’t want them influansing the other..wish I would have known that then..I would have been one trubble making fool…walked point and was a tunnel rat… B Co 1/7 quang Nam Provence 69/70… tried to get me to reup several times… but couldn’t guarantee me another year… mad E5 in 8 months ,, combat promotions…new if I was to be state side I would be busted back to privet in a few months…wasn’t a good spitshine Marine
Thanks Bill, for some of your won time over there. Funny how things could all change with
the unit, place and time of where we were. Appreciate hearing about some of your own and your contribution while there.
Semper fi,
Jim
Thank you Jim for your excellent story telling and sharing memories which no doubt are many times difficult to dredge up.
I’m amazed how “well” the company actually functioned, while you were always kept on the outside looking in. The veil was lifted just enough for you to be able to utilize your skills it seems.
I check my email every day, you have created a monster.
Thanks for being there all the time. I wish life did not so infringe on the writing process
but in order to have friends and family many times the writing must wait.
They do not understand, either most of the text I put down in the story
or the fact that writing it is so exclusionary and then coming down from it has strange effects too.
Thank you for wanting more and having patience…
Semper fi,
Jim
Must be difficult to go one place in your head to write this honest, emotional,compelling material and then go about your normal life without completely closing the first door. Can’t wait to read it all again in the book(s) but also enjoy the suspense as you release each chapter.
Yes, you hit it exactly. Thirteenth Day comes up tonight and I had a tough time with
that one as i attempt to stay factual and I didn’t do the greatest job on that 12th night.
Hard to configure that in the correct way and then not feel bad about the result all these years
later. be easier to write 100% fiction!
Thanks for caring and for this comment…
Semper fi,
Jim
Never feel guilty for being a survivor. You were not only fighting the North Vietnamese but trying to save all of the soldiers around you, some of which had become the enemy with in.
Nobody can escape that kind of guilt Nancy. I can say I have, as others before me.
No, I accept that I was a pretty inexperienced kid put into the face of hell and expected to
live and do something to help others live. I also know that I made a lot of mistakes and acted
more out of fear then out of a defined sense of just doing the right thing. I handle my guilt by
shooting for redemption, like Clarence in that It’s a Wonderful Life movie. Maybe I’ll get a bell rung for me
when I go! I’ll have given enough back to let the Good Lord gloss over those rough spots in the sixties.
Thanks for the intent of your comment and your writing it here.
Semper fi,
Jim
“One had to be for my maps. The second (was) for my (stationery), stamps(,) and envelopes. (Optional Oxford comma)
Floyd 91B4P
Thank you Floyd. So noted and corrected.
Always have had problems with the damn Oxford comma
Many times I write as I think and do not think grammar and punctuation
stationery
Stationary? That must be relevant somewhere but I can’ think where.
Help me out here Floyd.
Semper fi,
Jim
This is a great read…de’javu 68-69. The “ham and muthas”brought a taste back I thought I had forgotten. Thanks, I think. Semper Fi Brother!
You can’t buy and eat those old C-rations anymore.
You can still find some on Ebay but you’d probably die if you ate them now.
I thought about getting the ham and mothers and maybe the scrambled eggs.
Didn’t do it.
Thanks for the read and commenting about that on here…
Semper fi,
Jim
It strikes me as odd that 1. When I get the next chapter and read it that I am so far behind other guys writing to you.2. I immediately broke out laughing hard at “Captain Crunch” I could just see that helmet smashed in on one side with a big ” The rock was here” sign on it. 3. Rittenhouse is a dirt bag and a coward. Don’t know what will happen but I feel like Nyugen will take care of business. Casey’s rat in a trap.
Disloyal??? Well, it’s obvious that the men didn’t know what was happening and that any arty show was against them and their attitude. It does look like some of the main characters are starting to come around albeit slowly.
I find that I am thirsty for more at the end of each chapter and biting at the bit. Keep it coming Jim. It’s addicting for us
Thanks Jim, but actually you are early, in that I plan on continuing the series through the thirty days and then
on into recovery and re-integration back into the world of the time. Thanks or you conclusions, as I read them with
great interest and also a measure of satisfaction because it takes forever, if ever, to come to conclusion on some of
those things. Easier if a group of people who went through similar circumstance agree though.
Thank you,
Semper fi,
Jim
My heart relates to the letters you wrote your wife. My husband wrote me every chance he could from Vietnam and trying to read between the lines to figure out what he was going through was hard. The main thing that clued me in to his struggles was his penmanship which let me see the ups and downs of his emotions as he wrote. When he returned from Vietnam he was bound by Army Security Agency to not discuss anything. He died at age 47, three years shy of the end of that promise. He nevered discussed Vietnam with me or anyone. He somehow left it there and enjoyed every moment left of his short life. Thank you for stories that give me more insite into the struggles there for so many young men. You are a brillant writer and I am so thankful you are telling their story.
I am sorry about your losing your husband at such an early age and I’m really sorry that he
wasn’t able to share some of the ‘load’ he carried when he came home with you. Many times guys
coming back do not realize that, eerie as it may seem, women are perfectly set up to listen
and help with accommodating that stuff…and it is also relieving for them just to know what
really is eating away at you when you are up at night. It’s not leaving. It’s not another woman.
It’s not the relationship. It’s something darker to the man going through it but not darker to the
woman who might get to hear it. We all owe our wives and loved ones a level of confidence to make
the attempt. Thanks for writing on here and for reading the story. I hope you gain a measure of
understanding for why he remained silent. Many of the things your are reading are tough to talk about
at any time in any way.
Semper fi,
Jim
The capt seems to be finally realizing he is in combat but going with the lead squad he is putting himself in danger as you can bet the nva knows where you are headed and will ambush 1st squad on the way to the landing zone. Finally sugar daddy ls not on point and 1st squad may bear the brunt of the nva anger with all the death you have rained on them.
Well, there is the next segment and prices must be paid, and they were.
Thanks for working to figure out the rolling mysteries far easier to understand
today then back then. Appreciate the comment and the support…
Semper fi,
Jim
A case of whiplash for everyone.
Gunny never said it was Rittenhouse.
Gnny’s playing poker.
Alley-Ooped his chip into the pot. Asked for two more cards. Holding his Ace this time. Preparing for another hand. Over and over and over again.
Obsessed with this story.
Steve. You are quite the reader and analyst, if not detective.
Thanks for the effort and the rather terse but really good comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
Thank the lord for your “Nguyen”. We never had any “kit carson” or ruff-puffs that were worth the “powder”. I often wonder what became of them when the commies took over
Thanks for that comment. Nguyen became more and more and more important to me as the days wore
on. He was the only indigenous person attached to us while I was there.
And he was working for both sides, I believe to this day.
Thanks for the comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim,
The medal thing got to me. I was in the 101st in the first Gulf War. After the cease fire, word came down from Division that blanket awards were going to be given out – Bronze Stars for E-6’s and above, ArCom’s for E-5’s, and Army Achievement Medals for everybody else. It just violated my sense of justice. Why should anybody be given a Bronze Star for just being there, regardless if they did something to earn it or not, while other people, who earned it, didn’t? Still makes no sense to me.
The medal things was rampant up and down the Vietnam experience. Amazing how
many people back home got medals without even going into the theater. Thanks for the comment and
the support…
Semper fi,
Jim
Leaches were an ever-present annoyance. When out on Recon and DA’s we strived to follow shallow creek beds, when available, which were always heavily infested with the lovely lil’ ‘suckers’! In heavy infestation areas, we would actually take breaks to check and rid ourselves of the leeches… otherwise when you continued on… your leg movements would crush them inside your ‘trou’ which would then become soaked with your blood and could actually leave a light blood-trail when you rubbed up against the brush, etc. Most frequently, we used the mosquito repellent to help dislodge them…also sometimes removing them by taking a spent casing and heating it on the end of a twig and touching it to the leech so as to cause it to ‘put itself in reverse’ and dislodge so you could brush them off… a delightful way to spend ones evening!!! “God, HOW I MISS IT SO!!!” SemperFi!!!
Pro Deo et Patria…SemperFi
I am laughing in presuming that you do not want to receive any contributions of live leeches in the express mail!
The leeches were some of the worst living crap we had to put up with. Thanks for doing a great job of
telling us all about that…
Semper fi,
Jim
James: I was in the Army and in the “Valley” for about nine months (68-69), as a combat engineer, explosives specialist (12B40). Your story line is exactly to the dime as I recall those rather damp days and nights. We were somewhere north and way west of QuanTri. We had Montenyards(sp) who seemed to lurk in the dark everywhere and just seemed to be there when you knew things were going south quickly. Thanks for the penmanship, it brings back good and bad memories ( a great way to cleanse oneself) and hopefully for others to read and understand what the valley was really like day and night. The medal sequense is absolute and factual as can be. Waiting for the next write to read.
Thanks Steve, from one of those A Shau tourists to another! Yes, those ‘balmy’ days and nights
never leave our memories, even if we try real hard to make them.
I write about those days, nights and experiences being reality and therefore not memories that can be erased.
They happened. There is not dumping them with a medication,
unless it’s the medication that causes passing out.
You cannot deny that you were there and that shit happened,
just because some counselor back here, or loved one, tells you that you’ll be better off forgetting.
Of course you’d be better off forgetting.
Does a woman ever forget childbirth? Nope. Not gonna happen.
So, live with the memories we must but in telling this story I am
trying to get others to understand a bit better what reality
we are still trying to accommodate into our lives.
Thanks for the comment and company in the valley…
Semper fi,
Jim
Every time I hear about the Starlight scope being used I can still hear that damn electronic whine it made when switched on. I learned only to use it if there was enough background noise on moonless nights. To us the whine was unique and I knew a few that found out the hard way not to use it if it was dead quiet.
I bought one. Actually three on Ebay. Since I started writing this odyssey. I wanted to handle one and use it
outside to make sure my memories were intact. It took three purchases to put one together that finally worked. I turned it on. Holy shit.
That whine was forgotten. The physical nature of it. I was standing at
my work bench in the basement at that moment. I physically stepped away from the instrument, and the table. I turned back and shut it off. Shit. The sound, it’s all in there inside me, like the story. Just lurking and waiting beneath the surface. That was three months ago. It’s still sitting there with the switch turned off. I walk by it, every once and awhile, but I haven’t gone back to
take it out and look through it. I’ll be ready in time, I know, just not today….
Semper fi,
Jim
So many questions to be answered:
When and how will the NVA react to the latest move?
Will there be a supply chopper?
Will other officers be on it?
Will Casey and/or Rittenhouse make it on board?
Will the chopper make it out of the LZ?
What will Jurgens do after losing the source of his brown nose?
I can almost hear an announcer saying “Tune in again next time.”
PS: I would love to know how the Rittenhouse exit was arranged.
Rick. I cannot help you in your speculations without disturbing the ongoing thread of the story.
You will have to read the following segments, as yet not written (the latest is close). Thanks for the speculation
and the interest in the reading. Not to mention your effort in commenting here…
Semper fi,
Jim
Nor should you, James. Good serials always creates questions about what happens next and leaves the audience anxious for answers in the next installment.
Well, I suppose Rick. This is really my first real serial effort, other than the
chapters I put up on my local newspaper. Thanks for that and for the support here too.
Semper fi,
Jim
The reason I remember that whine of the Starlight so well is that I collect Bulova Accutron watches, the first model 214. If you forget and wear it to bed, you can hear that familiar whine, not near as loud but it’s there. We took fire from that whine more than once but as I said, you figured out real quick that it was as dangerous when used if it was quiet as standing up and waving to them.
Thanks Marcus. You couldn’t be more true and accurate in your comment.
The early scopes were problematic in a number of areas, including get them to work
with regularity after rough treatment and in the wet.
thanks for the comment and the support…
Semper fi,
Jim
Rittenhouse in my mind appears to be a Beady Eyed little Ass kissing Sumbitch! Met a few of them in Bootcamp & plenty of them in civilian world! Didn’t like em then& still don’t now!!!just saying!
Yes, the file makers and keepers can be outstanding nerds who do great or they can
be detail driven devils resenting all those who do note conform to their kind of expected behavior…
that they never conform to!
Thanks for the comment and the read,
Semper fi,
Jim
James, I continue to be mesmerized at the unfolding drama. In an earlier comment I had asked about boredom and it is becoming apparent that “boredom” will not happen on your adventure. In reference to your watch, did you wear it on the inside of your wrist to prevent the suns reflection giving away your position? We were warned about that on day one but since your in country training was rather abbreviated I was wondering if someone clued you in. I was infantry in I Corp from July69 to March 70 so we were neighbors:) The parallels of our experiences are truly uncanny except for the constant contact. I have recommended your book to my children and friends because you write about the experience in a way that I couldn’t possibly do. Thank you for reopening old wounds and helping e deal with them in a way that the VA counselors never could touch. Valium and elavil were not the answer but that was their answer. Keep it coming brother.
I wore my watch on the outside of my wrist, like I do this day. My first watch was a disaster and reflected nothing and
the Omega, even having mineral glass for its ‘crystal’ was scratched and battered to the point of being nearly as opaque.
In truth though, during my stay I never really thought about it. Other shit was coming at me in toilet bowl loads.
Before I went over I thought most combat time for infantry was spent in moving from one attack or defense position to another.
In Vietnam though, those movements were made through attacks and defensive actions, then getting set in to take incoming
in all of its weird gruesome forms…
Semper fi,
Jim
The officers always have all the medals, while the enlisted men walk the walk. Dont get me wrong, there are and were many good officers, but we all saw how the medals were handed out.And Rittenhouse.There are many like him.
Real life played out…a lot like real life back here but much more violently and in your face.
There were good men there too, it was just hard with all the fear to root them out and run with them.
Semper fi,
Jim
I hate doing anything in the rain, and my hat is off to all of those who had to endure that awful, muddy, bloody mess. Thank you for your services.
Wow, Rittenhouse. I would have never guessed the clerk. Yet, my mind wondered as I read this whether he was working alone or did someone order him or use him as an instrument of your, and possibly other officers’ demise? The possibilities are many. The Captain could have put a bug in his ear, a promise, were he to take you out. After all, the Capt. is getting your medal and he knows that you know he’s a cluster. Then there is Jurgen’s raging contempt of you. Rittenhouse and he have both been hanging our near one another. Perhaps Jurgen’s trying to use Rittenhouse the way you are using Nguyen. And let’s not forget Sugar Daddy. It will be interesting to see how this story unfolds in upcoming installments. One thing is for sure. The weather and the deadly inner workings of the company seem to have made the NVA peril seem distant.
The entire story is riveting, yet I find myself pulled time and again to the last three or so paragraphs. The NVA gun firing into the mud of the deserted hillside, while down below Nguyen ghosts in and you drop the name of your would-be murderer. Then, like a wrath in the night he’s gone, presumably to do your bidding. Very intense and dark. Love this, and can’t wait for future installments.
Finally, how did you get Nguyen to be so loyal?
Yes, I reread the last paragraphs of the recent segment when some guys on here commented.
I didn’t think much when I wrote them. But in rereading I sure get the intensity of the dark drama
unfolding…or almost unfolding. Thanks for the lengthy compliment and taking the time to write so much
about the story here. My reading needs are met by reading the comments! All so real and, well, real.
Semper fi,
Jim
Casey’s silver star,”don’t mean nuthin”! The reason a lot of veterans could care less about hardware. Another great read! In that situation in that place, Rittenhouse should know what’s coming. Thanks Jim! Semper Fi!
You are right about that. Decorations took on an entirely different meaning over there if you were really out in it.
So many acts not listed, written about or recorded in any way. Great acts of human bravery and endeavor…and the rewards
mostly dished out to the top. Real life, once again.
Thanks for the comment and the read…
Semper fi,
Jim
Vicki Lawrence, The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia. Nguyen vs. Rittenhouse, “and that’s one body that will never be found!” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vrQvOvu_eRc
Great! Thank you for that…
Semper fi,
Jim
While reading the conversation with Pilson and his saying that no one lasts very long that goes against you formed thoughts in my mind that they thought you were responsible for Casey’s two Lt’s demise. Or, perhaps he was referring to Sugar Daddy’s goons?
One small edit:
My position wouldn’t allow me to spring out of the clamshell hole, and my .45 was awkwardly trapped by Pilson (Pilson’s) left hip pressing in against it.
Please hurry with the next chapter(s)!!
I have had a problem with that every since the Nam. I don’t always want to lose
the people who oppose me, even when they oppose me in trying to get rid of me,
but things just seem to happen to them. God’s humor, I guess…
Semper fi,
Jim
Gripping and emotional. Best combat biography in forever. Keeper coming ya got us hooked bad.
Thank you most kindly Joseph. I am at it tonight on the next segment.
That was indeed a giant compliment. And it sustains me…
Semper fi,
Jim
Wow James keep at it sir enjoying every chapter
Thanks William, I am working to edit 13th right now.
Semper fi,
Jim
Superior read all throughout and the writing style puts the reader almost in your boots or damn near. Thought the Captain Crunch comment hilarious since I recall a lot of people calling Company Grunts “Crunchies”. The audio is a nice touch. Semper Fidelis
Thanks for the compliment and the reading of the story in such depth.
I sometimes forget that many of the readers, like you, are pouring over details that seem to
simply fly out from me and then are gone onto paper and I’m on to the next segment.
Someone commented on the Green Bay Packers who I cooked for in college and I had to
actually think for a few seconds to recall that I’d discussed that part of my life here, and then back there…
Semper fi,
Jim
Decided to look again there you are. More good storytelling, the heck with typos and memories of compass readings. All you guys were in the miserable middle of a feces sandwich trying to keep air moving in and out of some dog tired lungs. You are bringing it to life. Artillery lingo makes me miss my bud Buck Buchanan another good man lost too soon. And these days we have that 105 stuff raining down on what needs killing from a four engine airframe. May all you guys sleep like R&R in Sydney, Au.
Wow, what powerful succinct and moving paragraph you just wrote. I had to reread it a few times to really get the drift.
The new Puff you must mean with the 105s aboard. I’ve heard of those but didn’t have them back then, of course.
Thanks for the deep thought and equally deep meaning…
Semper fi,
Jim
Sorry James. Yes I mean the very efficient AC130 in various versions, but deadly all of them. I understand they have been able to see their targets in all weather and any terrain for a long time. 105, 40, and very rapid rate 30. Precision guided weapons as well. Plus their Commander is speaking of on board laser. And they enjoy being able to help the troop in contact. I look forward to the next installment and your finished work on this gut churning tale. Joe
Thanks for the compliment and for commenting like you have here.
Supporting air was wonderful over there and one of the rare bright spots in the whole thing.
Semper fi,
Jim
Rittenhouse….. should have known it was that little squirrel, but I didn’t think he had The cajones to attempt it, it’s gonna cost him in the end though…. something tells me Nguyen doesn’t miss his target often.
Excellent read, as usual LT. Looking forward to next chapter, as always
Thanks Joel, for being so in the story. The next segment is taking me a bit
to write because it’s delicate in its crude combat living way. I am up and at it though.
Semper fi, until the morrow…
Jim
You take your time to get it right, in your head AND on the screen.
I think we’re all so hooked on your story at this point, you couldn’t lose any of us. Even if you took a long break to TRY to cut us loose, I know I would be checking your site every day, just like I do now.
The story is addicting, and we are all obviously deep into the plot.
Well, Joel, I’d like to write that I’m doing my best, but in truth,
I don’t know how I’m doing until I read these comments! And then, sometimes I wonder if you
are not all about as whacked as I must be. Thanks for keeping me on track here and working away.
I hope I am done with the next segment tonight and then it will be up tomorrow.
The next segment is so easy with what happened but then so damned entwined
difficult with the detail in which it all took place…
and how to portray the agony of it and the justice which was just another form of twisted injustice.
But I am waxing on here.
Thanks Joel.
Back to work,
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim, I was a grunt with the 101 70,71 I like the way you move from thought to reality Im having one of those sleepless nights pick up I phone find your story. My dreams and my memories are like the way write.
Goody
Goody. Yes, those nights. I don’t have them all the time, although more lately than usual
because of the nature of rebuilding the story and working to work around the tough parts.
My own conduct not measuring up being the tough parts.
Thanks for the brotherhood and being up with me on those nights, so to speak…
Semper fi,
Jim
I saw the stamps to thanks for clearing it up. Today has been a bad day for me. Lost 15 good me on this day in 67. I like your book you tell it like it was . Thank you for that.
Fred. There they are, those fifteen, not standing, not staring,
there at death’s ravine…a place on your star, to be seen, not landing,
uncaring, gone seen but unseen. I know that load Fred and I know that
place on that rock wall where they remain as they were when they were,
not like you…here but also there too. Thank you for such depth of sharing
my kindred brother and friend all along…
Semper fi,
Jim
Holy shit LT my head is going off in many directions,to many memories are surfacing at the moment not sure how to sort them out. May the warriors bless you through all eternity,you got me till the 30 days had September. Semper Fi always and forever. Tucker 69-71
Thanks for that vote of confidence Tucker on this windy cold and winter night in Wisconsin.
I went out earlier just to make sure where I was. The night still calls me and I don’t know why
because I hated the nights over there…but then came home and flipped. Weird.
Thanks for the comment and the follow on the story.
Semper fi,
Jim
Keep it coming Jim, always on edge waiting for the next chapter.my dad was in WW2 and I had an older brother in the Nam. Thanks for your service and a great story! I never saw any combat but I was in the National Guard. 2/162 air mobile. Thanks again.
Thanks Brian for coming along for this E-ticket ride. I never thought of it that
way when I was inside the roller coaster car called the A-Shau. Appreciate the comment and wanting more…
Semper fi,
Jim
You had me laughing on this segment James ,funny now but not then. Keep them coming. Semper Fi
Very accurate analysis there Roger. Yes, funny….now…
Semper fi,
Jim
Intersting and very accurate analysis, Roger…and yes, it wasn’t funny then, but now…yes…
Semper fi,
Jim
I see I have you doing some deep thinking….. Yes, remember, There is righteous violence, and then there is violence……. A distinction too many cannot recognize….. It is part of being that magnificent bastard of the dark…. You are on the right side even if your didn’t recognize it then or now.
Yes, It would be interesting to sit down smoke some fine cigars, and sip some good liquor, and have a long philosophical discussion with you, I believe we both would learn much.
Semper fi Jim.
Thank you Robert and I could not agree more. Where are you located, anyway.
And thanks for the continuing support on here and in reading the story…
Semper fi,
Jim
A little place called Mosinee in Wisconsin…. little place I retired after working private security…..
Your up there just above Stevens Point. I have to get up there one day soon.
My friend owns a cabin on one of those lakes. Thanks Robert…I’m down here in Lake Geneva
Semper fi,
Jim
As always, I continue to look forward to more of your book with much anticipation.
I am glad he was discovered, and was gotten out of there quickly. However, he got off way too easy (not you fault…the military brass is famous for being too light on wrong-doers and blaming victims).
Thank you for sharing your experiences with us, and I am going to continue waiting for more! SEMPER FI!
The next chapter is still ahead of you Jim, and very few people walked away unscathed from
the hell hole of a valley….or that combat in that war…
Semper fi, and thanks for being aboard….
Jim
My guess is that the VC knew there was nowhere else for you all to go but the LZ. No doubt they had made arrangements to greet you at the LZ. One would also guess that the incoming choppers would have some support fire for you, to help hold off the planned slaughter that VC were ready to deliver.
Seems the Capt. had plans to take Rittenhouse with him, to testify against you and about the reports that you and Gunny were screening before he sent them in. No doubt he also knew about the comments made by the men, about you being unpredictable and disloyal. One would bet that if they both made it back to the rear, they planned to cook your goose. Lady luck needs to strike again, hey.
Well, I can’t say you are right on here…but you do have this convoluted mind.
And big intellect. Here it comes, the next segment, and you are something else J.
Semper fi,
Jim
I met a former Army machine gunner in Copenhagen, Denmark, in 1967. He was recently discharged from active duty and getting his head straightened out somewhat. He told me that whenever they killed a VC or an NVA soldier they would find on their bodies a bag of high-quality heroin. Perhaps the enemy soldiers were using it, or it was intended for the Americans to use it and become unfit for battle. Did you or anyone you know of encounter this? I know there was a fair amount of heroin use in Vietnam, but wonder if this was what started it.
Looking forward to the next installment!
T.O.
Thanks for the interesting comment Tore and yes, you will find some of this
going on in later chapters…thanks for your comment and your support…
Semper fi,
Jim
The only guy you can completely trust and who inexplicably is completely devoted only to you. Nguyen. It’s perfect, he’s a Choi Hoi I suppose, as good as a grenade , there’s no fingerprints, he’s untraceable, and not accountable in a real sense. Funny how the only person you can trust is Vietnamese.
Love the Capt Crunch, I busted a laugh with the dented dome. A great chapter.
Nguyen wasn’t Chieu Hoi. He was with us (admittedly at his own word) because he lost his family
to the NVA. He was the most ‘animal’ of my human counterparts, and as I came to discover traveling the world
in that other business, those cultures that have humans living out in tribal areas are more to be depended upon
for joint loyalty than those that pledge such things in closer social conditions…and then fail when the wind blows too hard.
Thanks for the depth of the comment and your continued support…
Semper fi,
Jim
Nguyen was not the only one who was loyal to you was he? Seems like Fusner and Stevens were pretty loyal and concerned for your well being. As one recalls, Fusner was always there to help you, hand you the radio or even pull the leeches off of you.
One never got the impression that Nguyen was a killer, more just a supporting roll in scouting and one who knew the jungle. One did work with some Cambodian soldiers who were trustworthy as well as some SV soldiers.
Read on and you will discover that you are indeed a bit prescient.
The very next segment, due out tonight has some of that in it.
Thanks for the comment and caring…
Semper fi,
Jim
And what would the Gunny do (it if) was Pilson, his own radio operator before Casey showed up?
Should be (if it)
Saw it my 2nd time through but had already added my comment and saw no one else had caught it yet. Find myself on pins and needles waiting on the next installment.I have been telling a few of my friends about this as well. Keep up the great work.
Yes, Pete, you somehow knew. A very few others did too. It was anything but obvious to me.
I was soaked in the blood of my fellow men and frightened to the core but still hoping against hope
that men would act like men with one another and not with cowardly abandon. But then, there was
my own cowardly abandon…and the facts were seldom black and white or filled with evidence truly dependable.
Thanks for the comment and the read..
Semper fi,
Jim
Thanks for yur story. The memories flood back to the front. In so doing, it opens me up. I have for several years been writing for my children and grandchildren my life so they know some of their family history. By reading your story I’ve been able to reach back to those years of 67-69 and remember events more vividly. To others who continue with you thru this month I would recommend that they too write down their story or tape record it for their families. It may help them clear the demons.
It may also help with the contagious demons we were perceived to have brought home to our
loved ones. That we’d seen reality and could not adjust to the phenomenal world back home…
and were not able in any way to let those around us understand the vast chasm between those two places,
hurt like hell. Them as well as us.
You are right. We need it and they need it.
By the way, only a very few of the people truly close to me want to read the story day by day,
week by week and month by month. Combat is done by men and women in tight clusters but not back here.
Everyone’s independence and obedience to a social order they see as reality overwhelms their ability to
really understand, or want to understand, what happened to us.
Semper fi,
Jim
It is very common for citizens of this country, to not want to deal with the bad and the ugly that they get involved in. They only want to deal with the things that they perceive to be good. Back when we were growing up, we were always advised not to talk about politics, religion or sex. All three of those topics were involved in the bad and the ugly and therefore, we were advised to not discuss any of them with our fellow citizens. We are all sinners, but hate to admit it, right?
Well, yes J, what else can be reported about the sinning thing.
I only know about me for the most part but I intuit the rest of humanity, of course.
The reality, I call it. The reality of life on a planet that is oxygen based (the most toxic of all elements except those
raised in its presence), on a planet where plate techtonics turn the continents under all the time,
and the place is 70% water-based.
This is a tough tough work and the reality of making it out there
on your own is damn near impossible…
Hence social tribalism and technological innovation. There you have it.
Semper fi,
Jim
My interest continues to grow with every new segment along with my admiration for all you combat vets reading this comment continue to write Lt.Strauss cause I believe you have everyone hooked I know I’m always eagerly awaiting the next installment and once again thank you so very much for your service and willingness to tell your story god bless you sir
Thanks Josh. Yes, the comments on here are intensely meaningful and sometimes, often times, I don’t know how to
take them. I do the best I can. I was on a radio talk show tonight trying to explain. I wanted to say that every active internet
site should respond to comments like I do here. But then I came back to my senses. I’m a writer. That’s what I do. I type 125 words
a minute or so. Most people not he Internet are not built that way. And I have a lot left of “Junior’s” memory.
So, I continue on, because the comments help me too…
Semper fi,
Jim
James, your writing, your recollections of our nasty, dirty war are probably the best ones written. If it (or they!) ever appear in print, count on me actually buying a copy, and bringing it to you for an autograph.
What you write makes me glad that I went over as an airdale squid, and not a mud Marine.
I get a few nightmares about Africa, but not of Vietnam. Lucky, I think.
Please continue – excellent story!
Mud Marine. I like that Craig. Hadn’t thought of that phrase but it’s a good one.
Th novel should be out on Amazon next week, finally. Thanks for the support and the comment…
Semper fi,
Jim
The para talking about Pilson, should read if it was Pilson. Still great story.
I didn’t understand that about Pilson Terry. Resend…
Thanks for commenting…
Semper fi,
Jim
First paragraph “what will the Gunny do if it was Pilson” if it was reversed. Keep cranking those chapters out.
Thanks for pointing that out. I am on it.
Writing the new segment too…and getting the book ready!
Semper fi,
Jim
As soon as Casey said Rittenhouse was going back with him, it struck me he was the one that threw the grenade. Another great chapter, I intend to purchase the full book when finished.
I do wish this could be made into a movie, the public needs to be informed about what we went thru. Keep up the great work.
Thanks John, I don’t know what is going to happen with this beast. The first book should come
out next week. We’ll see what happens then…meanwhile, I continue on into the night…
Semper fi,
Jim
Is it proper to ask if you are selling autographed copies of your book?
Here’s the rub. The answer is no. I am giving them away though with appropriate notation and response
inside if you comment along with sending me a copy of the book. I will ship it back at my expense to you
with the notation and the autograph. It will be my pleasure. The book should come out this coming week
as we finish the final final final final never-ending details. The first of the five. The First Ten Days,
the Second, the Third, the reassembly and finally, the integration back.
Thanks for asking and allowing me the opportunity to figure out just how I was going to handle
this issue…if it is an issue. Never know.
Semper fi,
JIm
The “CO” getting a Silver Star is bull shit. The “CO” I had in April ’70 that was from supply just wanted a CIB and we though that was bull shit… Keep them coming Jim. This was another great chapter.
Funny how a lot of decorations worked over there. Like the Johnson flying over in a plane
and getting a star too…
Semper fi,
Jim
Seems like the last two segments were really crisp. Drew me in tightly…
Thanks for the compliment Al. I’m working on it and hopefully getting better all the time.
Thanks for the comment and the read…
Semper fi,
Jim
“until he blinked. And then he was gone” WOW.
Thanks Bob. Life was quick and the actions governing life even quicker.
Thanks for the compliment. Semper fi,
Jim
Jim,
Rain, fricking rain Gunny was wrong you never love the rain. Doc helping you with that sleep problem? You still have a rusty bullet launcher. Must be tripping over the cast off equipment by now.
I pray 1st platoon isn’t walking trails, lot of letters home walking trails.
Wife said I’m a somber poop lately, she thanks you. Finally something I’m not in trouble for.
Keep bring the memories and dreams!!!
Butch
Did not touch drugs, except for the morphine I carried for others, while I was
in country. They were around but not for me. Don’t really know why. Apologize to your wife
for me…and I understand. It’s been a bit tense around here too..
Semper fi, brother…
Jim
Another great read!I am enthralled in your story and the details. My Uncle was over there, but never talks about it.
Thanks Darren, for being enthralled. Great word. I’ll have to figure out some way to steal it for the story!
Thanks for the read and the comment about it here…
Semper fi,
Jim
I quickly covered the ten kilometer course of our intended march using “as many” grid coordinates.I’m not sure what (as many) means? 10?
68, yes that means ten. Sorry I was not clear enough. Sometimes I see it in my head
and then think everyone else can too… I will edit for the book… thanks to you…
Semper fi, as usual,
Jim
Wow! Rittenhouse is the one. Makes sense because of some other things he did earlier in your mission. Now, the enemy must certainly know you guys are heading to the LZ? Hurry up and release the next episode, I can’t stand waiting.
Do you know if your mission is mentioned in the book “Ashau Valor?”
I have no idea if the mission has been mentioned anywhere or any of the other plans we had in the field. Company sized exercises didn’t really matter
much in the scheme of the overall war…as least I think. Not on the Internet, anyway that I’ve seen. The name Junior followed me to the hospital
in Oakland back here and that was not good but then I shed it when I got orders down to Pendleton, thank God…
Semper fi,
Jim
I am surprised you shed the nickname … my company commander in navy boot camp nicknamed me and it stuck for over 20 years ..I was always glad I wasn’t a grunt …this is the most intense description I have heard since my stay at Naval Hospital Corpus Christi ..in the ortho ward I had a marine sgt on one side and a lance corporal on the other side ..keep it up ..I cant wait for the next chapter and the book
Thank you Robert for the encouragement. I note you didn’t mention your nickname!
Thanks for the history. sounds like you’ve been on that trail of tears yourself…a bit.
Semper fi,
Jim
the first night we were in San Diego ..we were getting ready for lights out and he informed the recruit company that he would not be our father or mother, that if they needed either one to talk to me as the recruit CPO.. so after taps my right guide hollered that his mother always tucked him in so I jumped out of my rack tucked him and become Mother Mercer till the day I retired from the US Navy
Semper fi
And so life happens….Robert….or rather, mother. You don’t get to choose your own
nickname and if you get a macho one it’s because the others are making fun of you in
a different harsher way. Thanks for that short story and for writing it here…
Semper fi,
Jim
Another great read, James. Never expected Rittenhouse. I guess, expect the unexpected. If only Casey knew the frag that came his way was initiated by the guy heading to the rear with him. Like they say, You can’t make this shit up. Silver Star. FUBAR.
Yes, Casey was a piece of work but not so bad, if you really think about it. If I could have
I’d made up a story and taken a Silver Star to get to the rear
but I had not horsepower so it couldn’t happen…
not until after I was long out of it…
Semper fi,
Jim
Third paragraph down it states the unit would be heading south with the river on it’s left flank. I think this should be north and may be the reason Ken was a bit confused on direction as I was earlier in the story.
Supprised Rittenhouse didn’t stick out earlier as the culprit. After all he is scared to death of you from your tapping on the 45 when he was sitting next to Casey. Also he knows he has wronged you in the daily reports and he knows you know about it. A scared man is a dangerous man.
Great writing and I agree with the vet who wrote in earlier this story let’s a lot of ver knows lots of people went thru hell and they are not alone.
You are correct about direction and it is edited that way now. Thank you!
The company clerk was playing games and it was dangerous for everyone…including him
in the end…
Semper fi,
Jim
“Rittenhouse”. As much as at that moment you were probably wanting to return his favor I would hope you’ve found peace in the fact he left before you were able to. At least for the moment it appears that way. I’m sure that chopper can’t get there soon enough for him. Thank Jim for sharing the experience of you and your men. This (as I was fortunate enough at the time not to be shipped there) has helped me gain many more depths of respect for a couple great friends who were there who were never able to share the experience. Even though we remained great friends through life there seemed to be a distance between us once they returned. I always felt it was because I didn’t get assigned and they did. One, I know, was in that valley. Thanks again with the utmost “Respect”
Read on. What peace? There would be no peace at all for some time to come,
and that combat shit has a helluva ‘reach back.’ Thanks for that analysis and
the support, my friend…
Semper fi,
Jim
What peace? Something my friends Vance and Jose’ I fear never were able to regain once they returned. They came home but never came home, as was and still is for so many.Enough said. Semper Fi
That coming home but not having a ‘home’ to come home to thing.
Yes, the people back home were waiting for WWII veterans to come back,
most of whom had not seen what we’d seen or fought like we’d fought.
Catch 22 but who really believed that was true. MASH later, making it
all funny or being in the rear like they were actually at the front.
How could the public know? And the general public isn’t going to read
this story either. Isn’t in the cards. They go to LaLa Land and want
that to be real. Which is okay but doesn’t help a lot in the middle
of one of ‘those’ nights….
Semper fi,
Jim
I always wondered why ribbons & medals always seemed more numerous among the officers than us “common” enlisted men. I had my suspicions & this lends substance to my theory.
Who writes the after-action reports? And the daily reports? For the most part, it’s officers.
And what are they going to write about if it gets them out of the shit? Hmmmm. What would you write
when there is not one whit of evidence against whatever you write.
Witnesses are dying around you all the time when you are in the shit.
Thanks for the comment and the read…
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim – Spent time in the Au Shau myself. I was a radioman attached to 3/5. Mainly at Liberty Bridge. We also spent time at LZ Baldy, LZ Ross, LZ White, An Hoa etc. excellent reads here. Brings back waaaay too many memories and thoughts. Semper Fi! 68/69
Some places we shared Wes, as this moves right along. The A Shau remains
that strange place so remote but unremovable from our minds. I sometimes wonder if
the enemy then and civilians there now recall that valley as well and in such
agonizing detail. Thanks for the comment and your caring…and the reading in depth, of course.
Semper fi,
Jim
Jim, I check in, frequently, for updates. Your story allows me to sense what I missed. With a little regret. I visited The Wall back in the 80’s, ran out of excuses, saw where I would have been as I would have been there for Tet. Saw names of people I knew. Many friends who came back, some doing better than others. Sometimes we talk.
Nguyen has your back, he sees something in you. He intuits you. Gunny is more pragmatic, wants to get the job done and have things work. Gunny reads you. What a crew the three of you make! You have two men that bring to you what you need to survive. Your patrol fills in the logistics. Rittenhouse is dead man walking, a shame if he missed his flight. Like you said the Nam changed you, all of you. Who was it that said it is a good thing war is so horrible or we would like it too much?
Welcome home!
I don’t know who said that quote. I am thinking about that. I know there were some
in the rear that didn’t mind it so much, particularly since wars seem to attract so many lost
and lonely souls Thanks for the in depth analysis of what is going on and your own sort of predicting.
I am on it in revelations TDHS right now….
Semper fi,
Jim
Got it. Carry on.
No need to reply.
As you know, I always reply.
That’s part of me. Maybe one day I’ll get to old or infirm but for right now
I don’t have anything more motivational or important. The story’s important but the people
who comment are more important.
Semper fi, and thanks,
Jim
Robert E Lee commented to James Longstreet, ” It is well that war is so terrible, or we would grow too fond of it” at the Battle of Fredericksburg.
General Officers generally don’t participate much in the blood and guts shit so
I can understand Lee’s comment. I can find nothing about war that might cause me to
be fond of any part of it!
Semper fi,
Jim
Lee to Longstreet at the Battle of Fredricksburg, Dec. 11, 1862.
Yeah, so?
Semper fi,
Jim
When you entered the Ashau from the east, how far south were you? We flew into the eastern edge of the Ashau a couple of times.
Way south in the A Shau right down where it jogs to the east before disappearing into the cliffs
and then dissipating out toward the flats and then the sea….
Thanks for the read and staying right with it, and your comment here.
Semper fi,
Jim
I have a bro here that spent too much time in the A Shau from 65 to 67 with 5th SF. Bad times. Bad men in a bad situation. Got shot both times he was at a fire base there. He’s a hard headed man did 4 tours in all.
Wow. Shot twice and still doing four tours. That’s something.
His name must be right there in DSM V when you look up PTSD!
Thanks for that tidbit and your following this story…
Semper fi,
Jim
Rittenhause !! Didn’t realize he was around for the grenade tossing !! Casey knows by his lack of action l think !! Silver Star ?? I’ve seen a lot questionably presented !! What a strange set of circumcisions–eeer stances !! Keep on keeping on !!
After tossing your coffee ; next paragraph , going down the hill & turning south !! Maybe north ?? Not meaning to be critical !!
Yes, we turned north. Dammit! My aging brain…
Thank you so much for catching stuff like that…
Semper fi,
Jim
It’s night time in the Nam and crazy shit goes on in night time in a combat zone.
Everyone wants out, deeper down, away from immediate danger and everyone is afraid of
everyone and every thing else. So shit happened at night. I wonder what it is like today
with the plethora of third generation night vision for everyone. Thanks for the read and the comment here…
Semper fi,
Jim
I wouldn’t of guessed Rittenhouse. But now it makes sense.
Hard to make sense of it ahead of time in that stuff. People act out.
And everyone was so damned young. The punishments were maximal and one
wonders today if maybe lessor actions might have accomplished the same
end without death being the main training tool.
Thank you!
Semper fi,
Jim
I really enjoy your descriptive story telling ability. You bring the words to life. Even though I have never been there, I can visualize what you describe. Your talent is incredible to be able to remember all of the details and describe them the way you have in this story. I look forward to the next edition. Thank you for sharing what you went through as well as how it felt. You are truly an artist, you paint a picture with words.
Now that is a finely written compliment. Sometimes I wonder if I would be so generous
if I was reading someone else’s work that this was. If that makes any sense. Thank you for
allowing me to reach inside you. It is less my talent than your willingness to allow me to be talented for and with you.
Thank you most sincerely…
Semper fi,
Jim
Really been enjoying it, though it has stirred some “memories”. Maps – 1 to 25000 or 1 to 50000? Acetate covered, or the plastic ones like in escape and evasion kits?
The maps were paper Larry. They did supply us along the way with one side sticky
acetate that we could make them pretty much water proof. The problem with that
when I finally got some of the clear sheets was that they did not fold well and I needed
to carry more than one map to cover movement. All my maps were 1:25,000 and the good ones, only got those
once and awhile for lower areas, were satellite combo photo maps. The regular map was overlaid with
spy plane or satellite images. Those were the best.
Semper fi,
Jim
I have enjoyed reading about your time in Vietnam. Really super interesting and living the mud and the rain had to be hell. Thank you for your Service to America .
Thanks Jim, it is quite the experience to write the story, or to write and assemble it at the same
time. Thanks for caring and for reading, not to mention commenting here…
Semper fi,
Jim
One hell of a story, and superb rendering of it. I look forward to the book being released. I think it will be the definitive story of Marines in Viet Nam.
To be picky, and take it, or leave it, you said, “My batteries for the pin hole flashlight I’d assembled were going. I rushed to finish the letter. I only had three plastic bags. One had to be for my maps. The second for my stationary, stamps and envelopes.”. In ’66 and ’67 we didn’t need stamps. Mailing was free to us, probably to you, too.
Keep up the great work. an epic work.
S/F
Yes, covered that stamp issue in comments here already. I was a stamp collector as a kid and
so took stamps to send home to get the cancellations from a war. Little did I know. And then the
damned wetness made them all but useless anyway…and many of the envelopes I sent home could no longer be
sealed. They arrived home anyway, all of them intact. The USPS really took care of the kids sending stuff back from the war.
Semper fi,
Jim
Love the story LT. As some have already mentioned, your writing style puts the reader right there. After I read a chapter, keep looking several times a day for the next. Damn, Rittenhouse. I knew it. I wonder if your communication with the Yard will foretell one less person on the manifest when Cap’n Crunch goes to his shindig in the rear. Peace & Love. Jim
Thanks for thinking about all of that, and commenting so nicely here.
I am hard at work explaining what happened in the next segment.
Semper fi,
Jim
we didn’t need stamps. we just wrote ‘free’ on the envelope
I was a collector as a kid and wanted the cancellations from the war and Vietnam at times
so I carried stamps but didn’t end up using them much because they were lick on back then and
the moisture ruined everything, including many of the envelopes I sent home open!
Thanks for pointing that out though.
Semper fi,
Jim
I’m a wee bit slow sometimes.
It just dawned on me that they probably attribute the 82mm mortar attack that killed the hapless LT. Spurned by the foreknowledge you wacked Sugar Daddys night ninjas.
Hey this is working in your favor
It was back and forth like a game of Marco Polo in a pool.
Amazing how relationships switched and change along with behavior
until some of them set like concrete and there was no more question.
Time and actions for trust to build…and nothing else…
Semper fi,
Jim
And the Reaper left on his mission…….
Thank you Brad. Brevity is one of your talents. Nguyen was one of those extraordinary humans
I’ve been blessed to know at times of horrid terminal intention in the universe around me.
Thanks for the comment, as usual…
Semper fi,
Jim
Don’t think it’s
Rite houser,
Thanks for the comment, not that I understood it that well.
You are welcome here with the rest of us reprobates…
Semper fi John, and thanks for being here…
Jim
Lt., you’re stepping into a VERY deadly game,,, trust no one,, leave no evidence. the brown water navy
You have to trust…just like back in the real world. You are going to screw up in trusting back here, as I did
over there upon occasion. Here it’ll probably just cost you money…instead of a bit more. Thanks for chiming in
with the rest of us old road warriors here. I’d be a Harley guy but they’re too heavy for me anymore. Maybe put
some of those emblems on a Vespa! Thanks for being here and writing a comment…
Semper fi,
Jim
Captain crunch. Hahaha. Their creativity cracks me up.
And Rittenhouse! Didn’t see that coming at all.
Reading every issue two or three times to get it all.
Thanks Vern, means a lot to me to have so many of you guys following and gleaning from the
story so much detail I’m not always aware of when I’m remembering and writing away…usually deep in the night.
You know…those nights.
Thank you,
Semper fi,
Jim
Captain Crunch cracked me up also. I kept seeing the little guy on the cereal box in my mind. Really enjoying reading these, very addictive.
James- Another great read, always leaving me wanting more.
Thanks Josh, I am working at it. Nice compliment.
Glad you are here and reading.
Semper fi,
Jim
Going around in my mind, Gunny don’t need anyone, he’s good. The grunts in the squads have each other’s backs. The captain has everyone, he thinks. The RTO’s have their clique and everyone needs the radios. Rittenhouse has whatever blood vessel a leach can find. That puts you twisting in the wind with only your scout team. Maybe you got the best deal. No rush this time, I’ve been told it’s bad form to push your supplier. Still lovin it!
Working away at it Walt. Ticklish chapter coming up because there’s so much
shit going on inside the company and outside, as well…night, hostile rain, hostile enemy on many sides.
Shit. I wondered at the time whether there would ever be a break….and then it got tougher…
Semper fi,
Jim
Small thing we didn’t use or need stamps.
Great writing.
Paul, you are correct. However, those of us who collected stamps as a kid wanted
postmarks and cancellations form anywhere exotic. I thought it would be good to have those
from my mail home from Vietnam so used stamps when I could get them. I still believe today
that some of those cancellations my family kept will one day be valuable. Just an old stamp
collector…
Semper fi,
Jim
Got my dad’s letters from RVN with stamps on them.
Yes, there were some of us who were philatelic over there. I have a few that made it through to my wife too!
Semper fi,
Jim
What a twist in the tale. The little snake has a mongoose on his tail now. Casey still blissful in his ignorance and seems will stay that way for now anyway. LOL on the Captain Crunch, seems very fitting with his ego and smashed helmet. Seems the rest of the company has decided they need to keep you alive to aid in their survival now.
thanks for the in-depth analysis Peter and enjoying Casey’s lament.
The rest of the company was a long time deciding what in hell they wanted
because they were not homogeneous. The leadership is supposed to make them that way
and mold a team of them but, in truth, the company sure as hell did fight as team,
ever complaining about every other part of the unit’s lack of performance or
competence….Real life!
Semper fi,
Jim
Was in Americal arty in ’69 and thanked the Big Guy everyday for that. Read all the Nam books and leaned toward Dispatches by Kerr and Rumors of War by Caputo. You, sir, have kept me on the edge of my seat with your craftsmanship. Hats off to the Marines and Army grunts who fought in that nasty hell hole.
Thanks for the compliment Dan. Too bad the arty thing didn’t transfer well to home employment.
The Marine Corps recommended that I become a land surveyor but nobody was hiring those at the time.
Semper fi,
Jim
So I can imagine Rittenhouse is going to get a visit from Nguyen? Can’t imagine what will happen after if that is the case. Really spellbinding. Can’t wait for the next chapter.
Thanks a lot Peter, for your comment and your being attentive enough to know what’s going on in the story.
The next segment should say something indeed.
Semper fi,
Jim
Excellent writing again…I look forward to the next instalment…I was drafted in ’71 served til ’74…
Thanks for the comment and the read Mark, not to mention the compliment…
I am working on the next segment right this minute…
Semper fi,
Jim
“Nobody was going to be wearing heavy packs climbing down the hill, not unless the entire company was to risk crashing into the jungle below in one stuck-together muddy ball, as my team had been earlier.” they would drag the packs?
Yes Vince, and worse, as you will read in the coming chapter.
Thanks for the quote and commenting on here…and also reading the story that closely…
Semper fi,
Jim
WOW!! Talk about setting the hook with a cliff-hanger. I enjoyed it as always and will be driving up your web traffic looking for the next one. Either I was so engrossed in the story that my mind leapt over any typos, or there weren’t any in this chapter – high praise in either case.
Working on it like mad Stephen.
Hard to catch all the small stuff but thanks to people like you, eagle-eyed
and reading objectively, it’s a better story…
Thanks again,
Semper fi,
Jim
The power of a word, A Bronze Star, a Purple Heart, and a trip home……….. The Goddess Nemesis and Her sword of Retribution will have their due…………..
Now onward the play has been called, and the ball has sapped, Now let the team do what it does best, and do what you do best, Yes the long bomb………. Casey maybe the general manager, But you are the quarterback…… Semper fi/This We Defend, Bob
I think I was better at the down and out passes than the ‘long bomb’ Robert.
But what the hell. Thanks for the compliment, as usual,
and the quarterback thing…
Semper fi,
JIm
105’s at 12 klicks I think qualifies as a long bomb….
Well, okay, I was not thinking straight. I was stuck on semantics. Sorry Bob.
Semper fi,
Jim
Hmmm. Something makes me think Rittenhouse has……well, short time.
The times for a lot of us were short, and just how short many times
depended more upon fate than it did what we tried to arrange or plan.
We could have an effect but the earth turned and the world moved….
Semper fi,
JIm
I need a map. In my mind’s eye it all comes together, and then you add a right or left, and I find myself all turned around. Or maybe its the damn rain?
The A-Shau, with gentle long variations and sharp short ones, runs basically north and south.
Going north and saying left is to indicate west, while saying right indicates east. We were headed north
at this point of the story, having come down into the valley from the east, proceeding west down to the river.
At that point we were heading north toward the landing zone when we diverted back east to climb the hill.
Then we came west down the hill, turned right (north) and moved toward the landing zone.
Thanks for your attention to detail and if I got anything wrong in the story fiber than please let me
know. Recalling it all in my head, even with my maps here, can be a challenge indeed.
Semper fi,
Jim
I too noticed a direction problem, 3rd para, the company would head south after coming down the hill and the small enemy force on our northern flank, then 6 para from the end, the company turned North after coming down the hill. Great chapter, keep them coming. Didn’t figure Rittenhouse had the balls to frag anyone, but then it is easier than walking up to someone and sticking a blade in them. OORAH Lt.!
Yes, we headed north. Dammit. I am on it…
Semper fi, and thank you most sincerely…
Jim
Sir this is by far one of the top books I’ve ever read. You are not writing fast enough, now I would like you to hunker down and get that next chapter out. But seriously ,not old enough to go through the hell you guys went this gives me a greater appreciation of what some of my older friends have gone while being there. Thanks for the great read.
What can I say to that compliment Frank. One of the best books you’ve ever read. I don’t even know how to reply to
that. I would like to make believe I’m pouring over every segment to work and re-work it until it’s masterful.
Not. I just write the damn thing, taking a few breaks and then do an edit as thoroughly as I can. Then you get it.
Thanks for that wonderful comment!
Semper fi,
Jim
Another excellent read, and Thanks for posting. Just curious: Any idea how big of a force did the NVA have in your area? And was your mission just to get to an abandoned LZ or search and destroy? Again, thanks!
The mission was to take and hole the old landing zone as best we could for engineers and seabees to come in and build
an ARVN Artillery battery. Crazy as that sounds in that viciously brutal and enemy held environment. I can only approximate
NVA forces. It was thousands, however, in clumps here and there. At least two sapper regiments and several infantry.
They also had supply, medical, food prep and more…a lot of it in caves or underground. Thanks for the encouragement
and the attention to needing to know…
Semper fi,
JIm
I just got spooked.
why do I get he idea that you don’t ‘spook’ easily?
Semper fi,
Jim