CONSOLIDATION OF 1ST SQUADRON, 4TH CAVALRY AS A FIGHTING UNIT

In response to a query from one of our former troopers, here is an overview
of my attempt to draw the 1/4 Cav together as a fighting unit in early 1969.

After I assumed command on 5 Jan 69 and thereafter to mid-March, I attempted
to convince MG Talbott, CG 1st Division, to let me have the scattered
platoons and ground troops A, B, and C of 1/4 Cav placed under my control,
as well as D Troop (the organic air cav troop), and to use this squadron in
a manner I considered more fitted to its intended role.  1/4 Cav in its
entirety was by TO&E the most powerful maneuver force in the division, with
over 100 armored vehicles (M48 tanks and ACAVs), plus an awesome air cav
troop with observation, airstrike, and airlift capabilities.  In support we
had over 100 wheeled vehicles.

When I took command, the 1/4 Cav's mission for some time basically had been
pacification of Di An district.  Pacification and Vietnamization, I felt,
were the two most important roles for the Army in Vietnam.  I committed
myself fully to the local task in Di An, and immensely enjoyed working with
Major Chau, District Chief of Di An District and his forces and advisors.  I
have extensively recorded my experiences with them, and the satisfaction I
got out of seeing the progress the district was making.  However, I felt
that these missions were not the most productive ones for such an awesome
fighting force as 1/4 Cav, and they could be better handled by either
straight leg or mech infantry battalions.  Our terrific firepower and
mobility, I knew, could be put to better use.  After perhaps a week or two
on the job, when I felt I more fully knew what was involved in Di An
district, I began talking with General Talbott, General Smith (ADC) and the
division G-3 about missions and roles.  I gave General Talbott a written
detailed plan on how I believed we could make better use of the cav
squadron, employing it throughout the division area.  This plan would return
the air cav troop to squadron control.   The troop, in coordination with all
other division intelligence-gathering sources, would concentrate on locating
NVA main force units which were known to exist on the periphery of the more
secure areas within the division AO.  These enemy units were the major
threat to the pacification and Vietnamization effort.  The three 1/4 Cav
ground troops, cross reinforced with straight leg infantry and mechanized
infantry, would be strategically positioned, individually located in the
north, center, and south.  Upon location of the enemy by whatever means, the
closest troop would be able to move within its sector of the division AO in
a relatively short time to make or reinforce initial ground contact.  If a
contact as it developed was deemed to have potential, other cav troops or
available infantry units would be moved rapidly to join in the fight.  One
place I did not want my armor to go was into the jungle.  Based on my
experience in the 11th Armored Cavalry Regiment in 1st Division AO, I
believed that except in special circumstances, "jungle-busting" was not a
proper mission for an armored unit.  I felt the same about areas known to be
heavily-mined or booby-trapped.  Maneuver was stifled, and friendly
casualties relative to enemy killed were always high.  Other than in such
areas, plenty of good opportunities within the division AO existed for less
restricted employment of armor, such as in rubber plantations, cleared
agricultural areas, and along the sides of highways in counter-ambush
operations.  The enemy occupied those areas in strength, and we could more
easily get at them.

I have gone through my original materials (journals, letters, audiotapes)
and extracted some of my attempts to transform 1/4 Cav from scattered units
and a fixed pacification force to a concentrated, mobile armored cavalry
force.  My efforts in the first two and a half months were largely
unsuccessful.  Finally in mid-March 1969 Operation Atlas Wedge was thrust
upon division, and, to locate and engage main force NVA units, it needed us
to operate truly as an armored cavalry task force.  We were never to get D
Troop (Air Cav) under our control, but on 18 March squadron headquarters and
organic and attached units moved out of the gates of Di An, headed north.
Our operations from mid-March through mid July (the end of my tour), are a
story for later.  For now, here are excerpts, beginning in September 1968
when I was S-3 of the 11th Armored Cav, up to March 1969 when 1/4 Cav moved
to combat:


Audiotape to my wife, 8 Sep 1968, with 11th Cav.  The people that we work
with are really quite congenial.  I have met very few that I would dislike
or think that I couldn't get along with.  The officers in the Regiment, at
least around headquarters, seem to be quite competent, and of course that's
to be expected since it is the only armored cavalry regiment operation that
we have going.  The only thing that comes close to it is the cav squadron
type operation with the infantry divisions, and of course in many cases the
infantry divisions fragment the squadrons so that the poor cav squadron
commander has maybe a platoon or two directly under his control.

[In the summer of 1999 I began looking at my Vietnam material for the first
time in 30 years. When I transcribed the above tape I made the following
comment:]  I smile again as I read my comparison of a cav squadron in the
11th Armored Cavalry Regiment with one in an infantry division.  I was
feeling sorry for the poor cav commander in the infantry division who had to
fight division headquarters to keep them from piecemealing his troops out
until he had virtually nothing left of his own unit to command.  Little did
I know that in four months, as commander of First Infantry Division's
cavalry squadron, I would be fighting precisely this battle against the
generals of the division.  At great cost to my relationship, apparently,
with these generals, I seem to have prevailed in most respects.   Major
General Talbott, division commander, soon formed Task Force Haponski, my
squadron reinforced, to find and fight North Vietnamese main force units in
the Iron Triangle and Michelin Plantation.  For the duration of Operation
Atlas Wedge in March-May 1969, and after, Task Force Haponski was the most
potent division unit, with the greatest firepower and mobility.  I never did
succeed, incidentally, in gaining control of my air cavalry troop.  It
remained detached from me and operated (piecemeal) directly under division
control.

Journal,1 Dec 1968.  At peace tonight, I watched the moon silver the night
sky.  Death had its day, but now the night is still.  Music sounds from
across the line of tents, and a radio on a jeep competes with it sounds
of beauty and sounds of war.

Journal, 5 Dec 68.  Two days ago I was told that I would command a squadron
in January.

Journal, 10 Dec 68.  Today I went again to Di An, this time first to a
ceremony in which the 1st Inf. Div. was given the Vietnamese Cross of
Gallantry.  Again my soul stirred at the music, martial on the field,
causing my pride to well up in me.  I was proud of being a soldier, proud to
see the gallant national flags flying in the brisk wind, proud to be
associated with those who have been tested and survived.

Journal, 1 Jan 1969.  The New Year!  I have described my luncheon with Maj.
Chau, district chief of Di An, in a tape.  I have renewed faith in the
rightness of what we are doing, talking to him.  Many times wounded,
crippled, with a wife and six children, he is a marvellous man, dedicated to
his people and a better Viet Nam.

Audiotape to my wife, 9 Jan 69.  I took command on the fifth, having come
over from Bien Hoa on the fourth, staying that night, looking around and
being briefed.  And at 1400 on the fifth we had a nice ceremony out on the
parade field in front of brigade headquarters with division band and my
troops lined up, with the division commander present.  And the procedure is
that one passes the colors around, from the sergeant major to the old
squadron commander to the commanding general to the new squadron commander
and back to the sergeant major.  So we did that, and Colonel Faith was
decorated at that time.  And then we returned to the reviewing stand and
addressed the troops, first the old squadron commander, then General
Talbott, and then I had about, oh, maybe, a dozen sentences, basically on
the history of the division and the squadron and its impact on me, the pride
that I took in joining the division and the squadron, the Big Red One  of
course being probably the most famous infantry division in our history.

Letter to my wife, 13 Jan 69.  The last several days have been very busy
ones and I've been too tired to write often.  I've gotten little sleep
several nights, although last night I went to bed at 10 and slept until 5:45
without interruption.  So far things have gone well; I've received
commendation for some actions from the CG and the 2d Brigade CO, to whom I'm
OPCON (under operational control).  I'm a bit aggravated at the
over-supervision in the division but I have to remember that it's the
infantry way.   They have little concept of the mission-type order, and
they're constantly telling you what to do and how to do it.  But in general,
I have a satisfactory relationship with the infantry types.

Audiotape to my wife, 18 Jan 69.  I've taken some good pictures I think in
the last few days of my troops as they are moving here and there in various
activities, and the sound of the machinery the tanks, the armored cavalry
vehicles the dust, the early morning hours, the sun coming up, the
vehicles silhouetted against the sky and the same as they come in at night
(when they come in at night), is inspiring.  To think that you own all this
is ----- is quite awesome.  It's a big responsibility.  I have over two
hundred vehicles -- around, I forget exactly, ninety some odd tracked
vehicles, er, no, that's not right.  No no no, there are many more tracked
vehicles than that a hundred and twenty, a hundred and thirty, I don't
remember.  I'd have to look at the figures -- because I have seventy-five AC
AVs -- that is the armored personnel carrier mounted with machine guns on
the side and one in the front.  I have seventy-five of those alone, and I
have twenty-seven tanks, and then there are many other miscellaneous tracked
vehicles the headquarters vehicles and so on, so at any rate, there are
well over two hundred vehicles, twenty-six aircraft, although I at this time
don't have the air cav troop under my wing they're operating independently
for division.  I'm making an attempt to get them back.  And over nine
hundred men.  And again, at this time I don't have two of my own cav troops
under me.  Isn't that ridiculous?  The infantry has parceled out two of my
cav troops and given me two infantry companies instead.  So this is going to
be a struggle in the next few weeks to try to get to operate as a cav
squadron should operate.  Damned infantry, they can't think in terms of
anything except by ones and twos.  Whatever little job comes up that cavalry
can fill, they parcel a little bit here and a little bit there instead of
just doing without that job or going without in one spot so you can
concentrate in another.  But they don't understand that.

Journal, 17 Mar 69.  Tomorrow we go into the dense jungle in search of the
enemy.  It will be difficult, crashing through with tanks.  Supposedly the
7th NVA Division and the 34th Artillery Group are in there.  Today as we
flew low over the area I could see some evidence of heavy traffic.  It will
be no picnic.  I trust that I will bring out as many as I take in.

From my journal, 10 Feb 69

His face glistened in the late afternoon sun as I pinned on his medal.  I
did not know him, only of him.  Officers and men had spoken of him, and I
had read the story in The Stars and Stripes.  It told how he had performed
in battle, how he was a conscientious objector who chose to be a medic
through love of man.  Sgt. Mims had wanted to slip quietly away and carry
the medal with him.  But he was proud to be decorated, and I was proud to
decorate him.

I addressed the men, telling them that though I did not know him well, I had
heard of him from the unit.  Some men and women, I told them, like Sgt.
Mims, object to violence.  But many object and resort to violence.  They
destroy while Sgt. Mims preserves.  Sgt. Mims demonstrates courage and love
for his fellows on the field of battle while they merely demonstrate.

He stood beside me as I spoke.  It was one of my better speeches.  He seemed
to appreciate it as I stepped again in front of him and shook his hand,
wishing him well.  We saluted one another, and I walked away, the radiance
and goodness of the man going with me.


WHAT'S IN A NAME?

[Note: I named Fire Support Base Lussi, pronounced "Lucy," after Gustav
Lussi, my daughter's figure skating coach.  We built the FSB I think in
April 1969, somewhere near the Michelin, or it might have been up Route 13
north of Lai Khe (maybe one of you remembers).  We operated out of it for a
short time, then turned it over to another unit which naturally thought its
name was spelled "Lucy."  And that's the way it showed on division maps
until it was torn down.  Lussi became just an empty ring of dirt like the
others I used to fly over, all that was left of old FSBs, leaving no trace
of the blood and anguish.]

>From my journal, 2 June 1969:

War has a way of breeding strange names.  Some are born from shapes on a
map, such as The Catcher's Mitt, The Trapezoid, The Iron Triangle, The
Mushroom, The Onion, The Coliseum, and so on.  Some are born from terrible
or common events, such as Claymore Corners where one could expect to get
claymored as likely as not.  Some are born from history, such as is
reflected in the current fad for naming fire support bases after past
battles: Harper's Ferry, Gafsa, Gela, Little Big Horn.  (I resisted the
obvious and named one "Lussi.")  Some spring from the irony of those who
occupy them and result in such exotic names as Holiday Inn, Pagoda Inn,
Miami Beach.  The mud and/or dust of these places, to say nothing of
incoming rounds, rats, or stale damp bunkers, makes a neat contrast with the
atmosphere of the places after which they are named.

I have been in most of those places I described, and many more like them.
To die in such a place is surely a bad joke of fate.  The Testicles, so
named because of the obvious pictorial resemblance, has drunk lives with an
insatiable thirst.  There are names from the past which we who fight today
recognize only as history.  The Iron Triangle no longer drinks as much blood
as it once did.  Fashions in war change, and no one seems much interested in
the place anymore.  Consequently its scarred surface is visited only
occasionally these days, and though some fights occur, most casualties
during these forays come from the relentless past: a mine planted years ago
is still effective in blasting to bits today's intruder.

So what's in a name?  Blood, fear, death, courage, humor.

D-DAY VIETNAM STYLE



[Note: In my journal in 1969 I called our battle on 6 June, anniversary of
D-Day, "a dirty little fight."  The irony of our battle as compared to the
Crusade In Europe apparently was too rich for me to ignore, so I recorded my
impressions the next day.  On D-Day, June 6, 1944 the world had its ear to
the radio.  But no one paid any attention to our fight on June 6, 1969, or
ever would.

This ambush between Lai Khe and Quan Loi was the largest one I saw or even
heard of in Vietnam.  An NVA regiment was dug in along Route 13 south of An
Loc for a mile.  The bulk of their force was on the west side of the
highway, but at the head of the ambush (most northern point) they were also
on the east side.  My helicopter flew parallel to the highway, and every
time we would go over this northern choke point my pilot would put the ship
into a violent evasive maneuver, avoiding machine gun fire.  After a while
we were able to silence it with artillery and air strikes.  Although my
chopper had been a target for small arms several times before, and hit once,
RPGs had never been fired up at us.  It was quite a sight seeing them whoosh
up, go past, arc, and fall back to earth.

Our mission for several days had been to keep the highway open and protect
large convoys.  Since we had several miles of highway to secure from Lai Khe
to Quan Loi and could not do a ground sweep the whole way, I asked for and
received D Troop (Air) to sweep from the air, beginning at daylight,
reconning the sides of the road by fire and searching for enemy.  On 6 June
we found them before they had a chance to get at the convoy.  I do not
recall our task organization except that a tank company of 11th Armored
Cavalry Regiment was placed opcon to us on the move as it left Lai Khe,
leading the large convoy.  The company had either two or three tank platoons
(I forget which) reinforced by an infantry platoon mounted on the tanks.  As
soon as we discovered the enemy and engaged from the air I told the company
commander to get off the road and put a platoon on each side of it to sweep
north on line.  He was just south of the southernmost part of the ambush
site and the convoy was in no immediate danger.  For some reason which I'm
not sure I ever did discover, the tanks stopped and sat still.  There was a
delay -- and a delay -- and a delay.  I was never one to swear, but Colonel
Bob Haldane, the 1st Infantry Division brigade commander to whom we were
opcon, was listening on our command net, and he later told me he couldn't
believe what I had said to that company commander   he didn't know I knew
those words.  Basically my instructions amounted to move that company or I
will land, put you to driving the first truck in the convoy, and put one of
your lieutenants in charge of the tanks.  With that, the company got off the
road, began moving north and thereafter did a good job.  I reinforced them
as quickly as possible but cannot recall with what unit(s).  (Hopefully some
of you can help me out here.)  Our parallel sweep north on both sides of the
road caught the enemy in pits facing the road, so we were coming up on their
flanks and they could not fire effectively at us.  The enemy dead certainly
totaled many more than the 49 confirmed.  Although some groups finally were
able to break ground contact and get back into the tree line where pursuit
was difficult, as they fled northwest they tried to cross clearings, and I
was able to direct gunships, artillery, and air strikes on them.

Not only would the world ever know anything about this "dirty little fight,"
which in fact was large by Vietnam standards, but our own division does not
record it in anything I have seen.  For example, the June 1969 issue of
Danger Forward: the Magazine of the Big Red One, Vietnam, covers Battle # 50
of the division's named battles, An Loc II, of which our fight was a
significant part.  The article begins, "Several days of bitter fighting,
centered on the An Loc and Quan Loi areas, raged June 6 through 9 in one of
the largest enemy contacts for the Big Red One since the Loc Ninh offensive
of 1968.  Action at the end of the fighting accounted for the deaths of
nearly 500 VC and NVA."  The article goes on to mention fights which
resulted in as many as 115 and as few as 3 enemy killed, but not our fight.
We kept the road open for resupply of other units, June 6-9, and in so doing
accounted for a good portion of the division's total of enemy casualties.
Well done, troopers.]

>From my journal, 6 June 1969:

Yesterday was the 25th anniversary of D-Day, a day I remember well, though I
was only twelve.  A quarter of a century has passed.  In those days men were
engaged in a gigantic cooperative enterprise, designed to make decent living
possible for everyone.  Yesterday we fought a large battle, from noon until
dark, killing 49, capturing 2, this time with light casualties  3 wounded.
But this battle was not the first step in liberation of a continent, and it
will never be cheered, a measure of the difference in times and
circumstances.  It was a dirty little fight in which we confused the enemy
hunched all night long beside the road, waiting for our convoy.  His first
rounds were hardly out before I rolled my chopper in and laced down the
sides of the road, and followed it with gunships and artillery.  I was shot
at many times by RPGs  a new experience  51 cal antiaircraft machine gun,
and AK's.  They were merely bothersome, an annoyance, and the fire seemed
nonlethal.  Such is the case in a fight  one forgets the danger and gets on
with the job.

This little fight was costly to the enemy.  Had he been better organized and
disciplined, things would have gone much worse for us.  Intelligence
indicates that there were 400 of them, a figure entirely possible in view of
the large numbers of scattered groups we saw fleeing.  I feel no sorrow at
this battle, content to take the praises for a "good job."  So what does
this mean in reference to my character?  How can I kill 49 people and be
indifferent?  Strange.  Quite strange.

Troopers, Rob Ferguson responded to one of the stories I posted, this one
involving Thunder Road (Route 13 north of Lai Khe).   Here was the sequence
of messages between us:

Rob:  Thunder Road was a helluva place I well remember.

Bill:  Rob, you're right, Thunder Road was a wonderful place.  I especially
enjoyed my RONs in the Thunder FSBs with the rain, mud, and rats jumping
from me to the next guy, trying to keep dry in the night.  I didn't even
wake up so long as they kept moving.

Rob:  Bill, you should have tried our technique in the FSB Bunkers.  One guy
had a flashlight & one a club, then we'd jacklight and whup the rats -
worked pretty good - although I remember one night up there one of our
people reported movement in the wire so I checked it with the starlight
scope and it was rats coming in - that side of the line was allowed to have
a late night weapons test which took care of the infiltration.
***************************
I should have asked Rob what the body count was.

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