'68 Flashback Story

The events described in the poem "'68 Flashback" are taken from a battle that occurred sometime in 1968, somewhere in Viet Nam. The poem was written around 1983. The details aren't all clear, since I was a Lance Corporal (E-3) at the time of the event, and only informed on a need to know basis. I can, however, remember the highlights quite clearly.

I was the Logistics Man on an operation with Third Battalion, Fourth Marines. My job was to coordinate resupply; which, on this particular operation, was facilitated with helicopters. I would call in the requests on the radio and make sure that we had the necessary manpower and equipment on hand to get it off the choppers and to the units that requested it. This included the distribution of food, ammo, medical supplies, clothing and other resupply activities. I also worked with the Helicopter Support Team members to coordinate the evacuation of casualties, from walking wounded to body bags.

Things started off rough. We landed in a hot zone. A term that would also take on it's literal meaning, when an enemy tracer round set the elephant grass on fire where we were taking cover.

But let's start at the beginning. I remember the helicopter dropping us off in a field of high elephant grass several hundred yards from a tree line, from which we were receiving enemy small arms fire. Air strikes had already been called in. We were marking the enemy position with red smoke grenades, and the jets would drop 250 pound bombs on that area. We were so close that the planes were actually releasing the bombs so that they would go right over the top of our position and into the tree line. Well, as luck would have it, the elephant grass in which we were taking cover caught fire, and a red smoke grenade went off. The pilot sighted the red smoke and dropped three bombs on our position. Several of our troops were hurt, and had to be medevaced out, but no one was killed. To make a long story short, we got out of there with minimal casualties and moved to high ground for the night.

Our luck didn't get any better though. After we got dug in, we were sitting around talking, when one of our group picked up a rifle that had been damaged in the battle earlier. The receiver portion had been hit with shrapnel from a grenade. He said, "I wonder if this will still work?", and pulled the trigger, not thinking that the weapon had a round in the chamber. It went off, hitting one of the guys in the chest. He flew backwards and began gasping for breath. He had a collapsed lung. He lived, but was sent home as a result of the wound.

The first night at our new position, except for that one incident, went smooth. It turned out to be a pretty nice place. The next day we found a nearby stream which meant plenty of water and a nice swimming area as well. We were unaware, however, that this oasis was about to become hell.

I was asleep when the first contact was made. All of a sudden I woke up to the sounds of rifle fire and exploding grenades and mortars. We were under attack! The battle raged all night. In fact, our position was overrun that night. We called in artillery and air power, and finally regained control. Only to find out the next day that we were vastly outnumbered and had to get out of there. Which wasn't so easy, because our position was known and the enemy was calling in artillery fire. They could see the helicopters heading for our position and they were ready to call in artillery strikes when they tried to land.

When we finally had everything ready to go, an incoming round set the grass on fire around the clearing that we had made for the helicopter landing zone. Our gear, as well as our dead friends, were now threatened by this inferno. Our first thought was to get the bodies away, but as we were doing that, our ammunition net caught fire. There were boxes of rifle rounds (small arms), as well as boxes of grenades, in that net. By the time we realized it was burning, the small arms rounds had already started to explode. This wasn't as dangerous as it may seem however, because the brass casings simply exploded and the projectiles didn't fly any significant distance. The concern was the boxes of grenades that had also started to burn. When I saw that my heart went into my boots, because I knew we weren't going to be able to land a helicopter in this area with grenades exploding. Frankly, I didn't know what to do.

Then the Colonel came over. He was one of the most cool headed persons I knew. He went right over to the burning net and started pulling the burning boxes away from the rest of the ammunition. When we saw him over there, myself and a couple others went over to help. Fortunately the grenades were packed in heavier crates than the small arms ammo. We put the fire out on the boxes and opened them up. The grenades themselves are individually packed inside of heavy cardboard canisters. The Colonel said that we could throw too much ammo away because he wasn't sure we'd be able to get out that day. So we just felt the canisters and just threw the hottest ones off the side of the hill.

As you can imagine, there's a lot more that could be told, but I think everyone should be able to get a pretty good picture of the flashback of which I write in the poem.

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Definitions

Hot Zone A hot zone is an area in which there is some type of enemy engagement. In this case ground contact. In some cases, however this could also mean a zone that is under artillery or mortar attack. Return to story

Tracer Round A tracer round is a bullet with a special coating that makes it glow so you can see its path. Usually red, but North Vietnamese troops also used green. Return to story

Elephant Grass Tall, thick stalks of bamboo like grass. It was very dry, and caught fire easily. Return to story

Small Arms - Rifles, pistols, and other hand held weapons. Return to story

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