Talking Shadows

Talking Shadows

200720/CR

"Love Can Make You Happy", released in April 1969 by 'Mercy', reached over one million sales on July 15 of that year.  For this accomplishment they were awarded a gold record by the R.I.A.A.. and there is a story attached to this song.

In July of 1969, I was assigned a spotter mission in support of the  MACV (Military Assistance Command Viet Nam) and the 44th ARVN Regiment. We took off from LZ Betty (Landing Zone Betty) and headed North by North-East.  The basic mission was to locate  a group of Viet Cong. This reinforced platoon had hit 3 villages and taken between 20 to 30 young men as hostages, laborers and recruits. The village chiefs were killed but the number of friendly villagers KIA, WIA or MIA (killed, wounded or missing) was not known.  We were over the area in 15 minutes, looking very closely for this group of "Little People".  After scoping the area for about 10 minutes, the pilot flipped on the AFVN radio channel and "Love Can Make You Happy" was playing.  Calmed by the music, my gaze was intense, we weren't seeing anything but shadows and darkness.  We dropped down between tree-top and 200 feet doing a very serious "Where's Waldo".  At this time of day and at the usual plus or minus 500 foot altitude, I could not see the surface very well.  Even with binos (binoculars) there were dark spots and shadows in the suspect area.  At the lower altitude I could see under and around things and, to a degree, into the dark and shadows but still could not really make anything out. 

The pilot made a port slip, dropping down to 200 feet.  He leveled out and we continued down over the area.  As we flew across he pulled up and kicked right rudder making a semi-circle and we started back down.  This right hook allowed me to keep the suspected area in view.  The pilot and me had serious gut feelings that something was just not right down there.  As we came around and started down for our second run over the area, we crossed the "T" of our first flight path...

It was then the evil in the shadows spoke!

The plane began to quake and jump with loud "BAM's".  It didn't take two Rhodes Scholars to know we had been hit multiple times.  We were hit in the starboard wing and elevator.  Instead of pulling up, the pilot took a nose dive to clear the ground fire.  We flew straight out gradually increasing our altitude.  If the pilot had pulled up when we were hit, we would have climbed directly into their sights.  Nosing over as much as possible, using the terrain and vegetation to block our position, the enemy lost sight of our plane and we made a long, safe gain in altitude.  If he'd pulled up, this story would not have been written!

Climbing out and to about 800 feet, we began to fly a horse shoe pattern over the target.  I started my fire mission with the Navy DDG.  The ship was on station at Fire Support Station 'Puller'.  FSS Puller, was one of four FSS's we had set up in Fire Support Area, #1.  This was the most northern of the 4 FSA's we has established. The reason for bringing this up is that on the following Operation, we would have to send the DDG to FSS 'Chapman',  further down the coast but in the same FSA  The position of the Viet Cong kidnappers was just short of the maximum range of the '5 inch 54' naval gun.  Normally this would have been a big problem.  This particular DDG, however, was equipped with special 5 inch rounds. They were carrying Rocket Assisted Projectiles, or "RAP" rounds.  RAP increased the range from 25 Klicks (1 klick is 1000 meters) to 35 Klicks, plus or minus.

As our mission continued, the VC (Viet Cong) were steadily moving out of range for a 5 inch gun.  It was easy to track them because they kept shooting at us.  Realizing these VC would soon be out of range and that they had begun moving up onto an escarpment of about 500 to 1000 feet of elevation, I had to come up with something fast.  Advising the ship of the situation, I was reminded that they possessed RAP rounds.  Now things turned real serious.  These rounds would not only hit the target on flat terrain but could, in this instance, hit the target if it were to be on the escarpment.  Naval Gunfire is a flat trajectory, high velocity weapon and not a high angle firing Howitzer, such as the 105 mm and the 155 mm.

We continued to chase and observe.  The pilot called for Cobra gunships and LOH Cayuse's.  These aircraft were about 20 minutes out.  It was up to us to stop or slow these VC down.  The objective of our fire was not to hit the target, but to try and stop or turn their movement.  We did not want to hurt any of the abducted Vietnamese.  Once on top of the escarpment the "Little People" thought they were home free.  As the ship was adjusting the magazine for RAP ammunition, "Charlie" got sloppy and we spotted them.  There was no doubt, clearly they were hauling it and thought they were getting out of range and safe.

Based on my last plotted sighting, I called for the RAP and spotted it about 500 meters in front of their intended path.  We kept the rounds dropping in front of the group.  If they moved left, we fired about 500 meters from where I saw them.  Right movement was done the same way.

RAP rounds were new to us.  Its' use works this way:  the ship fires the RAP round; when the round gets to its highest point, its' 'maximum ordinate' (the highest point during the flight of the projectile)  the rocket is set to take over and push that round another number of meters in range.  We didn't see the Little People again during the mission.  By now the 'Snakes' and LOH's (nick name was pronounced 'loach') were working the area trying to get some info on where they were headed.

I terminated the fire support due to range and visibility.  It was getting darker by the minute and we headed back to LZ Betty (Landing Zone) and a debriefing.

As I walked in the TOC (Tactical Operations Center) my Lieutenant gave me a bit of news.  Tomorrow, at 0630, another member of our team and me would be going to the bush.  We would join up with a MACV (Military Assistance Command Viet Nam) team and units of the 44 ARVN regiment. Our operational mission was to seek out, close with them; rescue their abductees and then destroy through fire and maneuver the Viet Cong kidnappers.  Our permanent mission;  First, rescue the kidnapped young men;  Second; Do not hurt any friendlies.  And Third;  Insure we are successful.

The Impala

The Impala

Bounding with a grace seldom noticed
  lithe, all lines flowing as tho a comets trail
The stare not a stare but a melting caress
  warm, tender, yet intense, reaching with a touch so light
I felt I was bounding too
  not running, not escaping
Captured by the thoughts of being free to feel
  visceral in the thoughts of a warmth so deep  
Sensory in the nearness
  tingling with the scene and memories
In my bound of mind was a warning
  perceived on the breeze as danger
The flitting oneness lost to the unknown
  fears, aloneness and remorse at the thought
The bond, the enthralling joining of sense
  now broken by the unaccustomedness of rhythm

TRIPLE PLAY

Part 1.  Rendezvous at Midnight

The day had been long, hot and just plain miserable.  Getting back from a five day operation put a wild desire to get a shower and clean clothes.  We had been with Bravo Company of the 3d Battalion,  506th Regiment, of the 101st Airborne Division.  Our area of operation, A.O., for that operation was south and west of our L.Z., Landing Zone "Betty", about 20 klicks; 20,000 meters, out to the West.  Then we were to sweep South and East back toward L.Z. Betty.  We had some light activity.  For an FNG, freaking new guy it was basically a walk in the park, I thought, until the first round cracked over my gourd.  We made contact several times, but as was Charlie's habit, they were night probes and daylight harassment, nothing heavy.

Chuck, however, had a habit of nipping at you.  He would kind of lull us into a sense of; "Hey, there's nothing out here. Just a couple of VC out to mess with us".  Nothing big at all going on; then WHAM!  All hell would break loose!  Looking back, I think we had probably reached that point.  Then, after five days of boonie scooting, headquarters ordered us out.  We had C.A'd, Combat Assaulted, into the insert L.Z. in Hueys, UH-1 helicopters.  Now we were to pull a patrol back to LZ Betty.  That little stroll took another day, almost two.  So now we were back and ready for a kinda'-hot shower and some kinda'-hot chow.

As Mouse and me walked back from the shower point, we were feeling pretty good about our little op. Not on top of the world, but still pretty good.  We were still walking and talking.  On the way back to the hooch, a GP Medium Tent, our Lieutenant called us over and gave us the good news.  We were to go back to the hooch and put our dirty field gear back on and get ready to go back out.  Next, at 2300 hours, 11 P.M., we would meet up with our next unit.  Without saying much, we were not exactly happy about going back out so soon.  Little did we know.

Let me tell you about Mouse.  His name was Allen D. Owens and he was my Sergeant.  The cool thing about Mouse was his height.  He was the first Marine to be allowed to join under five feet.  He topped out at 4 feet and 11 inches, but that wasn't a handicap for sgt Owens.  He had a chest like a barrel, used to run sometimes and did exercise when he thought he needed it or just wanted to.  When he did the exercise and run thing, we, of course, would accompany him.  He used to tell us he was height challenged, not brain dead.  I was a Lance Corporal and had been in country since October. I'd been out on some support missions, seen some action but not real unit support.  We saw some action during Tet, the Vietnamese New Year at the end of January.  That was when two other members of the Nha Trang Team were sent to other teams. I was sent to Team 2-7 to really start pulling my weight.  Sgt. Owens had come over when the Marines landed at Danang back in'65.  This was April of '68.  Mouse, was just the guy to learn from; and I did.

We got to the chow hall a bit before 2300.  We looked around and didn't see anybody.  It was then we heard the voices coming from behind the chow hall in the area where we washed out eating trays and utensils.  We didn't always use a mess kit in the rear.  We went over and had just stepped into a very low light when their Sergeant First Class stopped us, asked what the hell we were doing there.  Mouse spoke up, with a command air and told them we were their Naval Gunfire Support.  I was a bit unnerved by our reception, but now we were somebody and human again.

After a short brief, Mouse came back over and relayed our duties.  We were attached to a LRRP Team.  A Long Range Reconnaissance Patrol Team.  Where we were going, there would be no support for at least 30 to 40 minutes.  We were the only support available from the time we went in until the next day about 1400.  We were all that stood between us and Charlie if, or when, the fecal matter intersected with the oscillating rotator.  In other words we were the last support and the only support until the next day.

The first thing Mouse told me to do was check for anything that rattled.  If it did, tape it up, down, sideways or any way I could to kill the noise.  That's when I got really curious and anxious.  I asked him what the mission was and he said we would be briefed with everyone at 0100.  I kept shaking and taping until Mouse told me to go over to the smoke pipe on the immersion heater and shove my hand and arm down in it as far as I could.  Following orders, like any young buck, I did exactly as he said.  I put my hand and arm down that smoke stack all the way up to my arm pit.  It was smelly, grimey, oily and full of soot.  I walked back over to Mouse and he grinned.  He actually had a pretty good since of humor, sometimes. I looked at him and asked, what now Sgt Owens.  Still smiling he said, now rub your hand and arm all over your face and other hand and arm.  Make sure you rub that stuff all over your neck and under your chin, no uncovered spots to stick out.  Doing as I was told, I was slimeing myself all over with that stinky crap.  I felt like a real prize winner for a hog calling.  We finished and we waited.  So often one hears the expression 'hurry up and wait'.  And that was what we did. 

For a while we felt like mushrooms... kept in the dark and fed on manure.

Part 2.  Boat Ride in the Dark

Sergeant Owens checked us over again for rattles and clanks... and again.  Sgt Owens, aren't we rattle-free yet?  Never hurts to double and triple check he said.  Sound travels a long way at night, especially if it's out of place.  Then we both proceeded to check out how our gear was wrapped and packed.  We still didn't know what time or where we were going.  We were basically making busy or anxious work.  I knew I was a completely blacked out Marine with all of that soot and greasy junk all over me.  Some might say camouflaged but there was no green, brown or other black colors being put on.  My brain started picturing and wandering.  Must be really important to do things the way we're doing them.  All of us were completely covered.  I didn't know why exactly, but I did know the mess sergeant was gonna be happy with his cleaned up immersion burners.  These immersion burners were set on the side of a 50 gallon garbage can.  The can was then filled with water about six inches from the top edge.  Then the burners were lit and the water was heated.  Usually there were three or four of the rigs in a row.  Here they had two rows of cans.  This let the troops go through and wash their mess kits, cups and trays quicker.  When my mind began to settle into mission mode, I really started checking everything waiting for 0100 to get there.

Mouse was just adding this as another mission to write about in his notebook.  We asked each other questions to recheck.  It would not do to get caught out where-ever without batteries for the radios; extra hand set, the flex antennae and the whip antennae with their kit bag attached to our packs.  I had one kit bag with all the radio gear and he had one.  I carried the radio and Mouse carried the extra batteries, 4 of them.

So far, so good.  I had four canteens on my ruck sack.  We were using ruck sacks procured from the Army supply system.  They were a lot bigger than a haversack and knapsack rig.  Four canteens and two half gallon bladders on my ruck, two on my cartridge belt;  4 magazine pouches with 2 taped grenades on two of the pouches. We had put a small piece of tape on the grenade spoon just in case it was dropped or got loose.  Sometimes, rarely, but still we err on the side of being safe, something might catch the grenade pin and pull it out.  Without that tape we would be up the fecal creek.  Each mag pouch had 4 magazines with 18 rounds.  We had not been blessed with the 30 round magazines yet.  Until that time, I carried a rig of 2 magazines taped together.  When the first mag ran dry, I dropped it, flipped it around and popped in the other magazine.  In our rucks we carried 2 or 3 bandoleers of extra ammo.  Each bandoleer had 4 or 6 pockets.  Each pocket held two stripper clips with 10 rounds.  Rats, C-rations, I stuffed in boot socks in the order I thought I'd eat them, enough for 5 days.  Poncho and a camy shelter half to use as a blanket or for a shelter.  T.P. was a necessity, and just a few other needed items.  We knew the general area we would be going in but had not been issued maps.  Those we would get at 0100.  We had masking tape and sheets of plastic we got from the 105 millimeter Howitzer ammo cases to water proof our maps.  We also had some for water proofing our rucks and gear.  Especially important was to make sure the radio and batteries were kept dry.  If it wasn't needed, we didn't haul it.

The Lurp (LRRP) SFC finally called us all together.  I had dozed a bit and kind of jumped when Mouse slapped my helmet.  The Sergeant gave out the maps.  Then he gave us a                      center point, grid "X", with an "N" number click radius and 10 navigation grids.  He also gave us the grid where we would be inserted.  He told us to orient our maps to that grid.  I plotted it, stared at it, looked at Mouse and he looked at me.  Point "X" was about 19 clicks from the point where we'd be inserted.  We figured they would brief us pretty soon.  We had reached 0100 and it was now 0100 + (plus) 20 mikes (minutes).  This op had started and we still had no word.  Mouse told me to start setting the map up with the center point, point "X", the insert grid and the navigation grids.  Navigation grids are points selected by the Operations Officer and the commanders who would be in the TAO (Tactical Area of Operations).  They're used to give locations over the radio without encrypting the actual grids.  The points are given names such as, in this case, makes of automobiles.  We had used a lot of these navigation points.  Some had been cities and some states, but they were always separate.  It was one group and never mixed with another group.  The "KISS" principle always applied.  If the center point was used, it was always, for this operation, referred to as "X".

Point "X" for us was the center of the TAO for posting an 'Air Hazard'.  Some places they called it a 'Save-A-Plane'.  What it did was make a big circle to tell choppers and planes that from point "X", there was a radius of "N" meters, there were missions being fired and to keep their aircraft out.  Resupply birds and gunships knew where we all were so they didn't have a problem.  When we fired a Naval Gunfire Mission the target coordinates, grid(s), were given in the open.  The navigation points named after makes of cars were never used.  Charlie could read a map, too.  To use a car make, say Cadillac, we would pass it this way:  "You this is me, over."   "Go you."  "My poz (position); from Cadillac: right, 4.2; up, 3.5; over." Put simply it meant that "me" was 4200 meters right , and 3500 meters up from point Cadillac.  Left and Right was West and East, respectively.  Up and Down, North and South, respectively.  These were for the maneuvering elements (in this case it was the companies of troops and the LRRP unit) using the navigation points.  We passed our positions to our NGF Officer and team members using these grids also.

About 0230 we were all ready and were called in with the LRRP unit for the final brief.  We were to be transported by 2 Vietnamese Navy Junks to the insertion point.   Next we would offload, walk, float or swim to the beach.  That was the first part of the initial mission.   The second part was to move those 19 clicks to secure and set up an LZ (landing zone).  An area large enough for Alpha and Bravo companies to do a CA (combat assault).  The LRRP's had members who were Pathfinders and would prepare the area for the assault.  This had to be done by 1500 hours.  After the CA, Sgt Owens and me would leave the LRRP's and join up with Bravo to support them during the operation.  This was the third part of the operation for us.

On Posers

On Posers

Taking a look at these "POSER" bozos and realizing how pathetic their lives must be, puts a new perspective in my mind as to the value of each and every American who has given service to these United States. No one is greater than the other; no one is lesser than the other; and each is owed an amount of respect and thanks for their service. In the services we did the jobs and assignments we were given. Some got signing bonuses, job guarantees, duty assignment, but still, in t...he final tally, we did the jobs and missions assigned to us. In this light, I am reminded of this Teddy Roosevelt quote: "The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat." We have all known the victories of our assignments, the defeats and failures, and the satisfactions; none of this is known by the "Posers", not a single one. There is also a saying about our jobs and missions in the service: "There are no small jobs, just small people". A bit of wisdom I learned at the elbow of a South Carolina NG Sergeant Major, veteran of WWII, Korea, and Viet Nam, was this; "It takes 5 people in the rear to support one on the line, therefore, if your job isn't infantry, your job is to support the infantry." I am sorry for the length of my comment... but I do not regret it. We should justifiably be proud of our service in all the many jobs we do. Of more importance, however, we should be proud of each other and the duties of each. I wonder, do I make my point. No one is more important, we carry the load assigned. Winning takes a team and a team effort. Semper Fidelis !







TRAUMA, A SIGNIFICANT EMOTIONAL EVENT

It is a beautiful starlit night. A peaceful place where danger doesn't exist; where an unnoticed quiet rolls through humid, listless air under a clouded tropical moon. Hardly a place to be described as emotionally significant or traumatic. The sounds of mosquitoes zizzing all about, a frog croaking it's love call, a bird flying to it's evening roost. This could be the front porch of a Carolina cabin in summer or a campsite on a lazy, murmuring Georgia creek.

Inside the hooch insects cast eerie shadows on the walls and ceiling as they frantically circle around the single light bulb. It is intriguing but not psychologically shocking. As fatigue makes the eyes grow heavy the brain begins to drift. Thoughts of the days events swirl with memories of the last stateside party; friends laughing, telling jokes, pouring beer over some wise guy's head, and the last intimate moment spent with a girlfriend.

Then, without warning, the wailing screams of enemy rockets shatter the night with pounding destruction. Banshees unleashed from hell to steal whatever souls they may. BOOM ! BOOM ! BOOM! The earth begins to explode as screams of "incoming" pierce the night. Buildings are ripped apart and mem cry out in pain and terror. Instantly you know this isn't a front porch; there is no lazy creek; and this could be your last party.

You are experiencing a significant emotional event. One of the most horrifying and traumatic a human could be expected to endure. An event that will stamp into your brain the realization that you might die. You are now a victim of trauma.

If you survive there are plans and stages for recovery to help arrest or prevent substantial and lasting psychological damage. Discussing these stages of recovery will help to better understand the emotional ordeals experienced by victims and survivors. This is with the hope of helping rather than cause further harm.

Trauma recovery is an ongoing process. What the eyes have seen, the ears heard, the nose smelled, the body felt and the taste experienced will never go away. With a program of stages a life may once again have quality and hope.

Recovery is a three stage process: shock and denial, anger and depression and understanding and acceptance. In any significant emotional event assessed as bad, the victim or survivor must progress through these stages if any degree of recovery is to be achieved or accomplished.

War is not the only cause of significant emotional events. Something as simple as moving to a new place, the loss of a loved one through death or divorce, a child going away to school or being fired from your job. Incidents which interrupt the natural flow of life and threaten the mental status quo can set in motion a series of catastrophic psychological reactions.

Whether a person loses a loved one, witnesses a friends death in war or gets fired, recovery depends on how quickly we act and how tactfully we deal with the victims and survivors. The "stiff upper lip" cliché is one of the worst attempts at encouragement we can do.

If traumatized or just caught short, the first stage, shock and denial, is the most critical. Shock can be caused by almost anything going beyond our normal daily happenings. Using a survivor of divorce as an example of shock; "I can't believe they left me !" In incidents relating to war or heinous violations of a person, the reactions of the victim are the same: shock, disbelief and denial.



OF WARRIORS

I can instruct you in the skills of war and how to be prepared

I can pass on to you our glorious history of courageous generals, great battles and selfless heroes
I cannot, however, teach you the urgency needed for you to do your best
That lesson must come from within
If it does not, it may be learned by looking into the cold dead eyes of a friend
September, 1985

 (C) R. Roughton

WINTERS WIND

When winters' wind comes howling
  with breath so bitter cold
  I think of all the summers
  and our hearts so happy and bold
...

We lived our lives to the fullest
  we laughed and cried and screamed
  we survived the fleeing seasons
  with their pains and broken dreams

We loved and lost and dared love again
  each time the last we swore
  but we gathered up our shattered hearts
  and went back out the door

I know our days are numbered
  as are the sands upon the beach
  they must be lived to their fullest
  significance given to each

When my life has ended
  and my final hour drawn near
  I'll look back over those seasons
  but I'll shed not a tear

Not because I'm angry
  or won't see another day
  but because the Creator loved me
  and through His love showed me the way

December, 1985
(C) R. Roughton