MEETING THE ENEMY
1968
is a year that is unquestionably and perpetually locked into my memory,
overriding most every other competing stimulus. Events of the day before yesterday brought the horrors into crystal-sharp
focus, providing previously unknown details that are, in retrospect, possibly
better left undiscovered. Why
allow the risk of being subjected to revelations about such a horribly
traumatic, torturing, and life-altering event, the memory of which is enduringly haunting? I have no good answer.
During
the past week, I have been running hot and cold as to whether or not to meet
with an ex-NVA (North Vietnamese Army) officer who fought against my unit on
the DMZ in May 1968. The battle, forever etched in the minds of those soldiers
who fought it, has been chronicled in “Magnificent Bastards” (Keith Nolan) and appeared in “Vietnam
Magazine” as an article entitled “Nightmare Battle of Nhi Ha”. Some months ago, Cau, visiting
relatives at Nhi Ha, noticed an under-construction monument to a most
significant May 6 battle. He managed to obtain
the phone number of Mr. Tha, the officer who commanded the NVA force that
fateful day. Khanh, of Hearts for
Hue, called Mr. Tha, who expressed an interest in meeting me. The wheels were
turning and decision time had arrived. Apprehensive and scared, I nevertheless
elected to leap into that roiling cauldron. Although balking at the suggestion of a filming crew from
Vietnam National Defense Television, the OK was given for the presence of a
newspaper reporter.
It
was 0900 March 26 . Mr Tha, a fit 87 year-old gentlemen, met us with a warm
smile and firm handshake.
His grandson, most personable and quite fluent in English, was present
to serve as interpreter. With
Danny documenting
via video and camera, Captain Tha and I waded into discussion of that May 6
engagement, which involved 2nd and 3rd platoon from my company, A 3/21 196th
Light Infantry. 1st platoon had
been held in reserve.
Lacking
the stamina to dive too deeply in this writing, I’ll nevertheless provide
scattered details of this meeting with my former enemy and provide some
explanatory background. Figures
are tough to recall with precision, but should be accurate or very close
thereto.
The
NVA had mustered the largest force ever assembled for a battle during the
entire war with a goal of capturing the Marine base at Dong Ha. Rushed north to reinforce the Marines,
my unit arrived May 1. From then
until the subject engagement, of which Mr. Tha and I share commonality, it had
been four days of steady fighting. On the afternoon of May 6, Co. A’s 2nd
platoon, under Lt. Smith, and 3rd platoon, led by Lt. Kimball, began
their patrol northward from our hastily-dug entrenchments towards the DMZ. My
understanding is that the intended goal was recon with the idea of determining
the location the NVA force without locking into a sustained engagement. While setting up for the patrol, there
was what seemed at the time to be an insignificant “adjustment” within 2nd
platoon. In my recollection, the intention
was for my squad, led by Sgt. Haddock, to serve as our platoon’s point element. I was to be point man. However, as it turned out, my squad
ended up on the left flank. It was Bill Baird who then became point man for the
lead squad. The remaining rifle
squad set up on the right flank. With the flanking squads “dropped back” from
the lead squad, the result is a wedge formation. The machine gun squad and CP
would be in the center of this wedge. This is all from memory, so I beg for
accuracy. Regardless, it is safe
to say that confusion existed as to which squad would walk point. 3rd
platoon moved out in similar formation on our right with 1st platoon
behind in reserve.
OK,
having provided a brief overview, it’s time to get back to Mr. Tha’s house,
where we’re sitting side by side on a wicker sofa. Photos, newspaper articles, documents, the “Nightmare Battle
of Nhi Article”, and a
personalized “Magnificent Bastards” were presented as gifts. “To Mr. Tha, a
Brave Soldier; Respected Foe in 1968, Respected Friend Today”.
I
learned that on May 6 Captain Tha’s force of about 300 men had entrenched at a
point where he had anticipated our arrival. Moving north, as described above, the
approximately 70 men from my company could hardly imagine the meat grinder into
which they were walking. All
hell broke loose and, with an entrenched enemy outnumbering our exposed troops
about 4 to 1, it was a disaster that will not be detailed by me. Of significance, though, was the
“switch” that placed Bill Baird as point for the lead squad. That adjustment allowed my squad, now on the
platoon’s left flank, to scramble behind the bank of Jones Creek, the only
reasonable cover from the withering enemy fire. The chapter in “Magnificent Bastards” chronicling this
battle is accurately entitled “Alpha Annihilated”. Although nineteen wounded men were extracted during
withdrawal, fourteen comrades, one being Bill Baird, were left on the
battlefield as I and other survivors finally broke off the engagement and somehow
escaped the NVA's “kill zone”. It was an indescribably horrific ordeal. That
night, I was one of four men ordered to serve on an LP (listening post) far out
from our entrenchments. The
purpose was to spot and report enemy troop movement so as to alert our main force
of an impending attack. During the night, we heard the words, “help me” coming
from what seemed to be Jones Creek. With no established pass codes audible, we
considered this an NVA trick and called in artillery, which silenced the voice.
Surprisingly, the NVA did not attack that night. Following my LP’s
pre-dawn arrival back at the main force, a figure appeared in the distance
coming up from Jones Creek. It turned out to be Desmond, one of the men who had
been left on the field of battle. He said that he had been lying beside Bill
Baird, who was wounded and couldn’t move.
He indicated that he had remained concealed until near darkness, then
stood up and slowly walked away to the creek. He related that, en route to the
spot where he tried to get the attention of my LP, he killed two NVA before
losing his rifle. He had left the wounded Baird, who was surrounded by our dead
and dying comrades. Another of the
fourteen, Joe DeMare, made it back to our perimeter. As I recall, he said that
he had played dead when an NVA rolled him over, then crawled back all the way
to our unit’s position. His bloody knees served as evidence. It wasn’t
until May 8 that we managed to get
back to recover our bloated, maggot-riddled bodies, which had been in the hot
sun for two days. The condition of our soldiers’ corpses and the stench created
an unforgettably sickening situation. We loaded the bodies into Marine otters
and headed back to our entrenched position. I, along with one other survivor,
was asked to don gas masks, climb into the otter, and unload the bodies. It was
a gruesome and traumatic task. Of
the fourteen men left on the field of battle, Desmond and DeMare managed to
make it back on their own. Eleven bodies were recovered May 8. Helping identify and tag the dead, I
objected to one body being incorrectly tagged as Baird. Please understand that the condition of the bodies made ID
very difficult. When the process was completed, it was determined that Bill
Baird was missing….MIA. Bill
finally made it home in 1973, when the POW’s were released. Until the names of those returning
appeared in the newspaper, I had assumed that he was dead. I was shocked. Upon Baird’s arrival at
Valley Forge for debriefing, I managed to engage in a lengthy phone conversation
with him. The call was recorded by the government. I’ll just say that he was understandably
bitter and harbored extreme animosity for Desmond, the man who abandoned
him. And now reflect back to the
confusion in formation that caused Baird’s squad to be point, which afforded my
squad the cover of Jones Creek.
Now
we’re back to Mr. Tha to and I sitting side by side at his house. Reviewing his diagram of the battle, my
eyes immediately noticed the name of one man…..Bill Baird. Mr. Tha had marked
the spot where he found him. Back
and forth via the interpretive skills of his grandson, we talked about battle
particulars. His interest in a US soldier that he discovered as darkness neared
the eve of May 6 was most evident.
“Who was this man”, he queried repeatedly. I was admittedly somewhat
confused. Mr. Tha said that his
men had found a surviving soldier in the creek, trying to escape. They were
about to eliminate him with rifle fire when Captain Tha ordered them not to
shoot. When I asked why he would make such an order, his response was that the
man was unarmed (rifle assumed dropped in the creek) and trying to escape. He
felt letting him go to be the “right” thing to do. Then it hit me like a brick wall….Desmond.
After being spared by Captain Tha,
Desmond worked his way along the creek until near my LP. The story about walking
from the battlefield under cover of darkness and killing two NVA en route is
somewhat conflicting, though, with Mr. Tha’s account. He says that he has
always wanted to learn the identity of the US soldier that he had allowed to
escape and to someday meet him.
His detailed account of Bill Baird and the spared soldier, Desmond, was
mentally overwhelming.
Our
meeting continued with conversation regarding various aspects of the battle. Mr. Tha asked, at one point, if we had
trouble identifying our bodies. My response was that I recall it involving
difficulty, but we managed. He
then referenced metal ID tags that US soldiers wear. “Dog tag”, I
responded. Well, it seems that he
had ordered his men not to remove the tags from our bodies. He pulled out his helmet, worn during
the battle, and placed in on his head.
When he pulled out a safety razor, I had an idea what was coming
next. According to Mr. Tha, the
razor was taken from the body of one of our dead. It had belonged to Lt.
Kimball, 3rd platoon leader.
Mr Tha would like me to locate Kimball’s family, asking that they meet
with him in Vietnam to retrieve the razor. I
promised to try. My effort to secure the razor for transport to the US was
unsuccessful. Mr. Tha’s forces lost 56 killed May 6, all of whom were hastily
buried nearby. Following the war’s end in 1975, he took it upon himself to
locate and exhume the bodies of all of his May 6 dead for proper reburial of
the remains. In fact, he did so with all KIA’s that died under his command
during the war….570 soldiers in all.
Amazingly, this hardened warrior turned to a life of healing following
the war, acquiring an education in medicine and becoming a physician. From
there, he set to work helping those in need, never accepting pay.
Throughout
our three-hour meeting, Danny was dutifully tending to his volunteer
video/camera task. A uniformed
military man, the newspaper reporter, and another man of unknown significance
were also present. These three were aggressively jotting notes. Just before the meeting’s end, Mr. Tha’s
son, the mayor of Nha Trang (pop 200,0000) appeared with his wife. Following
group photos and Mr. Tha’s presentation of gifts to Danny and me, it was time
to part.
My
impression is that my former foe is a compassionate, principled, and caring
man. He expressed regret and
sympathy to families of the US soldiers killed May 6. Wading through the
memories was as tough for him as it was for me. Regardless of NVA or US allegiance, ground combat in Vietnam
was brutal.
TODAY
In about an hour, Danny and I are off for a long ride to visit The, Duong, and (hopefully) Thua. What we don't accomplish today, we'll tackle a later day. Thong, (guide from 2010 & 2011) and Khanh (Hearts for Hue) will be with us. This is shaping up to be another memorable day in Vietnam.
Neil
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