Return to Vietnam Vol 3.

LZ Loon (Hill 672)

Dear Sgt. Grit:

On June 6-8, 1968, Charlie and Delta Companies of the 1st Battalion 4th Marines fought a battle for LZ Loon (Hill 672) in the Khe Sanh TAOR on Operation Scotland South, a mission tasked with interdicting and destroying the NVA and the roads entering South Vietnam from Laos and the Ho Chi Minh trail. Your readers may be interested in the website constructed by the author of Loon, A Marine Story, here. Photographs, a tribute and links to the book are included.


My wife designed and had the attached Loon patch manufactured for the survivors. The flag picture with the Marines carrying the body bags of their brothers KIA at the battle site ran on the front page of the New York Times.

Semper Fi

Dan Burton
Charlie 1/4 3RDMARDIV
RVN '67-'68

Marine brothers

Howdy Sgt Grit/SgtMaj Bock; I was initially assigned to ReconBn Apr 22, 1969 and transferred to 1stForReconCo, May 1969. Lt Champe was our PltLdr. My older brother was in ReconBn out of Chu Lai...that was in 65-66. Here's a picture of my brother.

Semper Fi, Don Griffith

Amtracs; LVTP-5's

Meeting the enemy

I'm drinking a beer with my neighbors and find out the retired Ha Noi policeman was also NVA in the Da Nang area the same time I was here.

My darling wife tells them I still have my cammies upstairs in a suite case and invites them to come up and watch me put them on.

After I get my cover squared away, Mr. Oh gets really emotional and tells me he's really happy to have me in the neighborhood. Then he gives me this Russian bear hug that crushes my glasses.

Do you think this could ever happen where you live?

I didn't think so either.

Greetings from Da Nang.

db

The Vandergrift Ice Run- April 1969

The following article is a true story, the names have not been changed to protect the innocent. We were all innocent.

In my Vietnam experience, there was no scarcer commodity 'in country' than ice. Staff Sergeant Harold Riensche (Navy Cross Recipient and Maintenance Chief, B Co., 3rd Tanks, 1968/1969) and I agreed that when and if we returned to the 'world', we would get together, buy a block of ice, get two lawn chairs, set the ice block on the sidewalk, sit there and just slowly watch it melt, while savoring several ice cold brews.

In Vietnam, we got used to drinking every consumable liquid, water, beer (Falstaff, Miller & Black label, soft drinks, etc.,- all of it warm to boot.

In our area of operation, I Core, there was no ice cubes, blocks of ice, shaved ice, ice sculptures, ice storms. None, nada, zip, zero. The coolest thing was a hot tank. There was only one occasion that our fantasies came true: I call it, the Vandergrift Ice Run.

In April 1969. 3rd Platoon, Bravo Co., 3rd Tanks was assigned to provide security for about twenty-five 25 Seabee bulldozers clearing land between Cam Lo and Con Thien, just below the DMZ. Our operation was part of what became known as the McNamara Line. It was a land clearing and sensor installing effort designed to slow down the NVA troop movements across the DMZ into Quang Tri Province and points south. The bulldozers would clear football field size sections of terrain of all brush and foliage and leave it looking like freshly tilled farm land. Early one afternoon, we got a radio message to head back to our base camp near Cam Lo for a hot meal, courtesy of the Seabee's. It was great working with the Seabee's as they had the perks that we didn't; real chow, spare parts and beer. The rest of the afternoon was to be spent doing maintenance on the tanks and dozers and chowing down.

We enjoyed their mystery meat and fresh vegetables, which was a significant upgrade from our usual C Rations. As we finished eating, Staff Sergeant Jim Jewell, Bravo 3 Platoon Sergeant, approached me and said, "Lieutenant, let's take a ride". As I learned early on to do whatever my senior NCO suggested, I followed him to a nearby Jeep, threw on my flak jacket and pistol, and jumped in, It wasn't until we had gone a click or so west on Route 9, near the Rock Pile, that I asked Sergeant Jewell about the ten insulated chow containers bouncing around in the back seat. Jewell said, "We're making an ice run." I yelled back, "It's a long way to DaNang." Jewell said, "We're going to Vandergrift, there is an ice plant there."

So there we were, armed only with our 45 caliber pistols- no grunts, no tanks, no security, in the middle of "Indian Country", racing down Route 9, looking for ice!

As the sentry waved us in the gate to Vandergrift Combat Base, a siren went off, not in honor of our arrival, but signaling "In Coming". Everyone started diving into bunkers and Jewell kept heading toward the ice factory. There were approximately fifty vehicles lined up waiting for ice when we arrived. However, everyone had abandoned their vehicle and was hunkered down in the nearest bunker. Jewell accelerated to the front of the line, said., " Grab the chow containers and follow me". Inside the ice plant there was no one around. Even the ice plant workers had headed for the bunkers. We filled the containers with ice, loaded up the jeep and headed out. As we passed through the gate to Route 9, the all clear siren sounded.

We arrived back at our base camp near Cam Lo and iced down the cases of beer supplied by the Seabee's. Once appropriately chilled, we issued two beers (our daily allotment) to every Tanker, Seabee and Grunt. Not just two beers but two ICE COLD BEERS!

3rd Platoon, Bravo Company, 3rd Tanks, sat around our sandbagged hooch and each man was asked to describe the last time he had had a cold beer. To a man, it had been a long time.

That was the one and only time that I had experienced ice during my 13 months in Vietnam. To this day I cannot look at, much less drink a Falstaff, Miller or Black Label beer.

by Pete Ritch, B Co., 3rd Tank Battalion, 3rd Marine Division, Vietnam 1968/1969

3rd Motors, 3rd Marines Vietnam

L/CPL Jerry Burden, Alpha Company, 3rd Motors, 3rd Marines Vietnam 1966 -1968. 1st photo L/CPL Jerry Burden on 50 cal - ambushed during mine swiping operation south of Phu Bia, 2nd photo L/CPL Jerry Burden during operation to relocation of Vietnamese at the DMZ, 3rd photo L/CPL Jerry Burden and un-known Marine going on patrol outside of 3rd motors, 3rd tanks and 3rd am tracks Battalion area in Da Nang late 1966 just before Christmas. Area was over run a few days later. Hope you can use these.

Anyone that wants to contact me can at Jerryburden [at] msn.com.

Mike 3/4

Me & my fire team 1961 My BAR
PFC D.Brown 60-64

Trip to the Vietnam Memorial Wall

Sgt. Grit,

After 40 years I finally got the opportunity to visit the Vietnam Memorial Wall along with other Memorials. I along with members and thier families of Marine Corps League, Table Rock Detachment #1197 from Morganton, NC went on a trip to Quantico, VA and to Washington, DC in the summer of 2007. It was quite an experience. Initially I had some emotional moments but then I felt a calming peace come over me. It is hard for me to put the feeling into words. One of my pictures that I took of the wall came out, as I'm sure many others have experienced, with a reflection of me as if I were in the wall with my fellow "Band of Brothers". I felt as if I were among fellow warriors at a place somewhere in history. So many years have passed yet every moment of those years are captured forever in my mind. Every Vietnam Veteran should try at least once to visit the Vietnam Memorials. I am sorry that I waited so long. I have attached a few "then and now" photographs.

Semper Fi,
Bob Mauney

Air Support and the Rockpile

Sgt Grit, It is incomprehensible to me how any Marine could not understand the importance of the Air Wing, be it fixed wing or Helicopters. The attached photo is a typical resupply run to the hand full of us who have the privilege of being called B.O.T.’s (Been On Top) The Rockpile was manned by small 3-4 man Marine teams from Recon, Forward Observers and Radio Communications units. While the Rockpile was the most photographed piece of real estate in Vietnam, there are very few of us who were B.O.T.’s, and without the Air Wing we could not have survived up there. Getting a CH-34 up there was a feat in itself in good weather, but these crews were there when we needed them, and put their lives and aircraft at risk every time they set one wheel down on our LZ. To us, they were our lifeline and our hero’s, and we are here today because of their efforts to support us. Anyone who questions their role in any operation, must have sat behind a desk for the whole war.

S/Sgt. T.B. Dudley RVN 1963-1966-1967

The West Coast Wall is for all who served during the Conflict.

Sgt. Grit

This wall is for all Veterans who served during the Vietnam Conflict not only the Fallen. It also honors the Veterans who supported the troops in Nam from other overseas and stateside locations. This is an entirely a different approach. Check out the flyer. Semper Fi-----------Sgt.Michael James Smith USMC (Ret.)

3/11 1967

SGT. Grit.

This is a picture of myself L/cpl Grover Hunt in I Battery 3/11 in 1967 in Viet Nam. By the way Sgt Grit what battery were you in. I would like to get in touch with some of the other I Bat 3/11 cannon cockers. I have more pictures to post at a later date.

My New Tattoo

Sgt Grit,
I served in the Marines from 1/10/69 to 15/11/71 and was in country in Vietnam in April 8, 1970. I was attached to guns squad with Echo 2/7 and was known as Rat. My name is Gus Guillen and live in Winston, Oregon since 1972. On September 26, 1970 Echo Co was patrolling above Dodge City I believe in the Que Son mountains when I stepped on a booby trap and lost both legs below the knees. I am looking for Melton M. Johnson from Baltimore and others from Echo, Fox, Golf, and Hotel Companies in 1970. I have attached a picture of myself and Melton at FSB Baldy. I need to let him and all of Echo Co. that I made it home and am still alive and proud of being a Marine. I need to show them my new tattoo.

Semper Fi Sgt Grit and welcome home.
Augustine R. Guillen, USMC Retired.

Vietnam (1967) G-3-11

III Marine Amphibious Force

Sgt Grit,

I was 18 years-old in September, 1966 when our 3rd Marine Division MP unit was assigned to a POW compound the Seabees had built on the south flank of Hill 327 in Danang, Vietnam. A North Korean PT boat had attacked a US Navy destroyer in the South China Sea. 19 survivors of the attack were turned over to our unit for protection and ostensibly for bargaining the release of downed American pilots in North Vietnam.

The photos show the camp built as a defense buffer on the southwest approach into the city. The entire camp was constructed according to the Geneva Convention. Individual bunkers (bunkers.jpg) on the outside perimeter of the camp housed each of the prisoners and contained a small sandbag bunker. There was a mess hall and a courtyard where they played volleyball and soccer. Three isolated interrogation booths (interrogation.jpg) were used by civilians whom I later surmised to be CIA operatives.

The POWs were treated humanely; indeed, many of us befriended them. I believe it was the Captain who taught me to play chess. We were often visited by the Red Cross and Swiss doctors.

I have no idea what became of them as our unit was transferred to Dong Ha the following month.

Jack Stanfill

My Alive Day

Sgt. USMC

OK, those who have been there know that the craziest crap happens at the worst possible time. Sometimes it’s your fault and sometimes somebody else does something so stupid it defies the imagination. No matter whose fault it is, you are left holding the crappy end of the stick.

Hopefully, no one except the enemy gets killed because of it.

January 6, 2010 will be the 40th Anniversary of my Alive Day. The Alive Day concept came to my attention while reading about some wounded Marine Warriors at Bethesda Naval Hospital. They came up with the idea to celebrate the day they were WIA and survived, calling it their “Alive Day”. Beats “Dead Day” all to hell.

Forty years ago I was coming up on my 14th month in country with 11th Marines. I was NCOIC of a ten man Counter Mortar Radar (CMR) team at LZ Ross, a rundown former US Army artillery support base located in the Que Son Valley about thirty five miles southwest of DaNang, Vietnam.

Our Korean war vintage MPQ-10 radar system was situated about a hundred yards in from the perimeter and we scanned the skies nightly for incoming mortar rounds. This cranky piece of vacuum-tubed garbage looked impressive enough wagging back and forth, but to my mind it was a big shit magnet – hard to maintain, difficult to run and a hell of a target for the NVA. Oh, well. In the Marine Corps you work with what you got, right?

My CMR unit was attached to 1st Battalion, 7th Marines and as a Team Chief I got to sit in on daily briefings at the Battalion Combat Operations Center (COC). In December of 1969, we were briefed 1st Mar Div Intelligence had tracked elements of the 409th Local Force VC Battalion from their usual area of operation in Quang Tin Province and were now believed headed in our direction.

I got back to my team and told them we needed to better prepare in case we got hit. During heavy monsoon rains and cold windy weather at the end of the month we reinforced our position and dug deeper fighting holes next to the radar. Everybody was bitching about the work and nobody was happy about filling sandbags in the rain, but tough titty. I was the Sergeant and that’s the way it was going to be. Little did I know it at the time, but the extra effort and all that rain wound up saving our asses big time.

I had a buddy over in 7th Marines from boot camp who scammed a couple of extra cases of M26 grenades and ammo for us. At the time, M16 ammo came in bandoliers with each pouch containing 20 rounds packaged in a paper box with stripper clips for easier magazine loading. The grenades came in a wooden ammo crate inside round cardboard and tin containers. To get the grenade out, you had to remove the tightly packed container by twisting the top off. This took time and I didn’t want to waste any if I needed a grenade in a hurry.

While up north on the DMZ earlier in my first tour, I’d seen a neat trick to insure frags were readily available in case the doo doo hit the revolving mechanism. After taking the pre-packaged ammo out of the cloth bandolier, you could slip several M26 fragmentation grenades into the empty bandolier pouches. When needed, grab the bandolier and off to war you go. I told one of my Lance Corporals to load up four bandoliers with frags and place one at each end of the two tents we were using.

Here’s where the story gets interesting. This particular Lance Corporal, who will remain nameless to protect the guilty, told me he thought it was crazy to put live grenades into bandoliers. “What if a grenade falls out and hits the ground”, he whined. “The pin could jar out and explode. It would be safer to keep them in the cardboard containers.”

The answer was, “No, do what I tell you, Marine”. This guy was probably my biggest complainer and he had an irritating way of flinching every time the arty battery next to us fired. Not the sharpest knife in the drawer, either.

What happened next is chronicled in the US Marine Corps History and Museums publication U.S. Marines in Vietnam - Vietnamization and Redeployment, 1970-1971 by Graham A. Cosmas and Lieutenant Colonel Terrence R Murray, USMC.

“On 6 January 1970, sappers of the 409th Local Force VC Battalion, supported by a mortar detachment from an unidentified VC or NVA unit, came out of the southern hills to attack LZ Ross.

During heavy monsoon rains which masked their approach, between 20 and 30 NVA and VC regulars in five-man teams crept up to the outer perimeter wire and quietly cut their way through at several points. Dressed in black or green shorts and bandannas, barefooted, and laden with grenades and satchel charges, they entered the perimeter without alerting the defenders. At 0130, the first rounds of a supporting mortar barrage exploded on the base and sappers outside the perimeter opened fire with RPGs and small arms. The infiltrators went into action, hurling explosives into bunkers, Southeast Asia huts, offices, and vehicles. They concentrated on the countermortar radar, the battalion combat operations center, and the artillery positions.”

I was rudely awakened at 0130 by a stupendous blast which collapsed the small CP tent I lived in with Sgt. Jim Bailey, a good friend and a great radar technician. A bookshelf between our two cots built out of artillery ammo crates by Bailey shielded me from most of the explosion. Bailey, unfortunately, took the brunt of it. Later, I found out the NVA had thrown satchel charges into both our tents and was the opening salvo of their attack on LZ Ross.

Crawling out from under the collapsed tent canvas into a drizzling rain, I could not believe my eyes. Our generator was on fire, my beautiful wing tank shower was blown up, and mortar rounds were impacting the immediate area.

I rolled into one of our two sandbagged fighting holes and landed on top of two of my enlisted team members. Both had been on radar watch, but abandoned the scope and jumped into the bunker on hearing the first explosions. I had dragged my rifle and .45 with me, but saw no one else had any weapons. Six Marines occupied our other bunker and had no weapons either. I was not happy.

Read the rest of Jim's story...

I yelled at the other bunker to get back to their blown up tent and retrieve rifles, ammo and grenades. I low crawled back to mine and grabbed two bandoliers of grenades and a weapon, then made it back to the bunker with Sgt. Bailey who was seriously wounded and missing part of his right hand. I gave Bailey’s rifle to another Marine and hastily bandaged his hand which was bleeding profusely. As I wrapped the bandage, Bailey asked me for a favor. “Please, he said, point that .45 somewhere else”. I realized while I was wrapping the bandage with one hand, I had my pistol in my other hand cocked and off safety aimed right at his head. I still have nightmares about that!

By now, the enemy had passed through our radar site and was in the process of attacking the battalion CP and a section of Seabees further inside the base. Friendly fire was impacting our position. Somebody started firing a recoilless rifle at enemy to our rear adding to the confusion. I about crapped my pants when a rocket-propelled recoilless round passed by me at shoulder level.

About this time I heard a strange hissing sound and saw a small flash of light in front of our bunker. I peeped over the sandbags and saw three NVA walking around like they owned the place. They were half naked and had large canvas bags slung over their bare chests. In the bags were explosive charges, which they were tossing at the radar and our bunkers.

I brought my rifle up and put a full magazine downrange (every time I see that Sgt. Grit T shirt saying, “When in Doubt, Empty the Magazine”, I have to laugh).

All three dropped to the ground as soon as I started firing. I’m pretty sure I missed all of them because they continued to hurl more stuff at us from a ditch about fifteen yards to our front. Oddly, none of the stuff they were throwing exploded. One or two of them hissed and fizzled, but no bang, thank God.

I snatched up one of the grenade bandoliers with the idea to return the favor. I yanked the first one out of the pouch and went through the mental drill all of us were taught. Pull pin, throw grenade. Yell “Grenade”. Count to five. Wait for it to go off. And wait, and wait. What the F? Must be a dud. Grab another grenade, Chuck it. No explosion. Double what the F? Throw another one. Then another. Nothing!

The nameless Lance Corporal whom I had instructed to prep the grenade bandoliers was in the bunker with me. He said something like, “Sergeant, I know what the problem is. Take the tape off the grenade before you throw it.” I looked down at the grenade in my hand just pulled out of the bandolier. There was a band of electrical tape wound around the body of the grenade and the spoon. TRIPLE WHAT THE F!

The Lance Corporal said, “I was afraid they would go off in the bandoliers, so I taped all of them up for safety”.

I had just thrown four grenades at the enemy with spoons taped up. It’s raining and it’s wet. The grenades are wet. The tape will loosen and the grenades will eventually go off. But they ain’t gonna go off any fricking time soon! I wanted to strangle this guy.

The other Marines frantically un-wrapped the remaining grenades and handed them to me. I threw three more and this time they went off. We had no more activity to our front after that. The rest of the night into the next day went by in a blur, but I do remember praying for dawn.

I also remember sitting in that bunker, seething mad at myself for everything that went wrong. We had gotten our asses kicked in a very bad way and I was responsible for the actions of my team. They were trained as radar operators and had very little in the way of infantry training prior to going to Viet-Nam. All they had was an abbreviated two week ITR and a one week orientation at Pendleton before deployment. Also, this incident happened at a very bad time for the Marine Corps. The war had lost all support at home (sound familiar?) and we had discipline problems, drugs, racial issues and fraggings going on. I had considered making the Marine Corps my career, but it was after my less than stellar performance as leader of this motley crew, I decided not to re-up.

Back to the more humorous aspect of this story. In the morning, I looked around and there was a lot of strange looking stuff strewn about our area. Interspersed with my taped up grenades were several unexploded ChiComs and what looked to be hastily improvised explosive devices. Some were made of discarded soda and beer cans. There were also a couple of long pipes, later identified as un-exploded Bangalore torpedoes, shoved under our tents and equipment

Fearing the taped up M26’s with the pins pulled lying on wet ground might go off, I got on the horn and requested EOD respond. When they got there, the Gunny in charge asked me if I knew anything about the taped up grenades. I can’t remember what I told him, but I know I had a red face while doing it.

I think his comments to me after his people cleaned up the explosive devices kind of summed up the whole episode. He told me we were damn lucky to be alive. The enemy had attacked under the cover of heavy rain and much of their explosives were rendered useless by moisture. Our Counter Mortar Radar was the primary target and bore the brunt of the initial assault. The enemy timing was screwed up as well. The sappers hit us at the same time their mortar barrage landed. Several were killed by their own fire.

Bottom line, if it weren’t for the rain, a disorganized enemy and forcing my guys to build bunkers and fill sandbags, my writing career would have been over long ago.

Sadly, thirteen Marines lost their lives that night and we had over thirty wounded. Enemy casualties were estimated at forty KIA. Sgt. Bailey was med-evac’d at first light and that was the last I ever saw of him. I’ve tried over the years to look him up on various websites and buddy locators, but no luck. Jim, if you are reading this, get in touch, will ya?

I’m attaching a picture of some of the unexploded ordinance EOD gathered together to blow in place. One of those taped up M26 Fragmentation Grenades is visible in the center of the picture. Also pictured - our sandbagged Radar (before getting nuked) and our personnel tent at LZ Ross, blown to hell by mortars and satchel charges on my Alive Day, January 6, 1970.

Moral of the story, check your weapons and ammo every day. Dig deep holes. Trust no one to do a critical job without supervision. Say your prayers and God Bless the Marine Corps!

Semper Fi
Jim Hackett

Cannoncockers

Some Christmas photos on Hill 300 overlooking the coal mine in 1967. Whiskey 3/11, pictures taken by J.Kisly

Maybe someone can id the others.

Christmas 1966 RVN

G'day Sgt. Grit,

In spite of being a Corpsman in that bad place, a sense of humor was one of my most important tools I used for my Marines. This picture was taken Christmas week 1966 near An Hoa. We were using a partially destroyed cement building for some shelter from the rains.

Given a bit of orthopedic stockinette, cotton wool, merthiolate and adhesive tape... Father Christmas with his white beard and red hat made a call handing out REAL ground coffee and a few hoarded cigarettes. It has remained my favorite of the very few photographs we were able to take.

I'd be proud if you could publish it this Christmas season.

Semper Fi!
Doc 'Chopper John' Patrick HM3

Christmas 1968-On My Way!

Corporal Mulcare, Brian 2329098== MOS=2333/8651=
Home on Leave Prior to shipping out=To Viet NAM=
Just Back from a Year in the MEDITERRANIAN!
Transferred from Alfa Co. 2nd RECON BN to 3rd. FORCE RECON CO.-Quang Tri.
Rel.A.D. Dec 1969! Summer of '69 I went to SCUBA School in Subic Bay. I missed out on the Music at Wood Stock, so I bought the TEE shirt and Plaque. I'm assembling two Wall Hangers to go with the WOOD STOCK '69 Plaque. Crossed Rifles, M-1 Garand & M-14.

With the Window Banner , Eagle / Globe & Anchor.
OOoHHH! RAH!

Semper Fi, and Adeste Fidelis.
Before & After, 2 MED. Cruises and "Headed SOUTH" to WesPac.
Welcome Home-40 years later !

Hope you can use this Flick on your Wall of Fame!
Brian Oh'Brian

Vietnam Photo

November 30.2009

I am enclosing a photograph taken around July, 1965 in Nam, of some members of supply plt. H & S Co., 3rd tank bn. It's been 44 years since I've seen these fellow Marines, a few of their names have escaped my mind. If anyone out there recognizes any of these marines could you please send me an email at maryjoe1967 [at] yahoo [dot] com. This old man would greatly appreciate it.

Semper Fi
Sgt. Joe Mastrangelo

Marine And His Helmet Message Some 40 years Ago

Just recently I received a few photos from my former platoon Sgt. Billy Johnson of Conn.

In the photo was a group of Marines from the 11th Engineer Bn - Charlie Co. out on route # 1 and involved in road sweeps for the day - the year was 1968 and the area was the DMZ.

Listed on on Marine L/Cpl. Danny L. Jones' helmet was the message of " Painsville Ohio".

So with our big reunion coming up next Oct 2010 in DC I called for information. Nothing.

Then on the 2nd day - we found him!

Marine L/Cpl. Danny L. Jones of Charlie co 11th Engr Bn completed his tour and went home to his family after being separated at Treasure Island, Ca.

Danny went to work, raised his kids and lives today still in Painsville, Ohio.

He's also now planning to attend his first reunion and visit DC plus the Vietnam Wall for the very first time.

The Marines that served with the 11th Engineer Bn 3rd Marine Division from 1966 to 1969 [on pullout] can be proud of their hard work that was achieved under combat conditions and it times of uncertainty.

Approx 200 purple hearts were earned during those times to also include a few silver and bronze stars too.

Keeping the major roads open that included routes one and nine - helped keep the fire support bases up and resupplied as well when the choppers could get in or were on other major operations.

Welcome home Danny and to all who served in that area once called the "DMZ" .

Gene T.Spanos
Sgt. USMC 66-71
11th Engr Bn 2/68-2/69 [ Sqd Ldr Cpl ]
Vietnam - DMZ

James H. Temple

To whom it my concern,

My father gave me this picture, I'm so proud to say he served this country prouldly as a US Marine, I thank God every day that he came back from Vietnam so maney men gave their lives, and paid the ultament price. My father Staff Sargent James H. Temple of Warren, AR is still living, and loves being a Marine I just thought you would like to publish this picture thank you for everything you do for the men and women that serve our Country I'm studing to be an Assembly of God Minister and I pray for our men and women of the armed services on a daily bases

Sincerley,
James D. Temple
GOD BLESS

SEA Hut/Hardback

When the Marines of 3/9 arrived at An Hoa after leaving the Water Point near Marble Mountain in April 1966, there was nothing but shelter-halves for personal sleeping quarters. Hardbacks were finally built during the summer BUT, we were out in the field all of the time. The one night India Company got to sleep in a hardback the VC mortared us killing two of our brothers and wounding many including yours truly.

Fast forward to 1967 and 3/9 is now all along the DMZ. During the summer we (India) was the "Sparrow Hawk" force working out of Dong Ha. On a rare day that we actually had off, some officers arrived in our area requesting our assistance in moving something. That "something" just happened to be a full size hardback built in the wrong place. Marines improvise, right? Here is a photo that ended up in SEA TIGER of how we did it!

On a serious note, our Corpsman from Getlin's Corner, Doc Chuck Dockery who lost both his legs to numerous gunshot and mortars/rockets wounds, is in the University of Washington Hospital ICU. He had surgery to repair 2 of 3 aneurysms to his aorta. His heart and part of a lung that survived lung cancer now with pneumonia plus he has only one kidney having lost one during the battle. Doc is in critical condition! Please pray for him and his wife and two kids. Doc is our rock! When we dragged him into our last stand position at Getlin's Corner with more wounds than any of us who survived he said, "lay me next to a Marine that needs my help!"

Please pray for Doc! God bless you and God bless our troops at war!

Semper Fidelis,
Jack Riley I/3/9 1966-1967

DaNang Pics

Sgt,

I thought I sent these in a couple of weeks ago, but maybe not, or maybe you couldn't read them, or elected not to publish. whatever the reason I am sending again, some might remember or enjoy I got to Danang in July 1970. I labeled the pics 40 years ago, so I hope I was accurate back then.
Mag 11 main gate to air field
Mag 11 PX in housing area
shrapnel holes in the hangar wall
enjoy the memories of been there done that

Semper Fi
Choo Choo
sgt of Marines (NLA)
68-74
RVN 70-71

The Old Corps

Who (or what) is “The Old Corps?” There is no doubt that each and every one of us who have served has heard or used the phrase “The Old Corps” at one time or another. No matter when they served or how long they served, there is always someone referring to “The Old Corps.” For example, WWII veterans might refer to themselves as “The Old Corps” when talking to veterans who served after them. Vietnam War veterans, like myself, may refer to ourselves as “Old Corps” when talking to veterans of more recent times of service. Veterans who served in any given era almost always refer to themselves as “Old Corps” when in conversation with veterans who served in a later era. The Corps is always changing.

In my opinion, this leaves only one conclusion as to who “The Old Corps” is: The day you graduated from recruit training, YOU became “The Old Corps.”

Once a Marine – Always a Marine
Former Cpl Bob Mauney
2nd , 3rd, and 5th Shore Party Battalions
(Red Patchers)
USMC 1966-1968
Vietnam 1966-1967

ASP 1 - April 27th, 1969

Sgt Grit,

I'm sending pictures that were taken from Hill 34 while the ammo dump was exploding. I had sent some of these before but I can't remember which ones, so I'll send all of them. Semper Fi, Jim Herbst Sgt 7th Comm Bn - Co. A 1st ATs', 1st Tank Bn ( 3 Fingers C.O.P.) & 5th Comm Bn - Sept 68 to April 70

Cpl Pat Padilla RVN 1969

The unit is Fifth Marines the location is An Hoa about 26 miles south of Dange (spelling)
I really didn't think Sgt Grit would be interested, glad to see you are.
Semper Fi
Cpl Padilla

Washington DC 2009

I served eight years FMF....I did three tours in Vietnam as a Recon Corpsman but time in combat ended up taking their toll on me...seeing to much combat and to much death put me in a private Hell that only other Combat Veterans, could ever nderstand...you learn what the word "Frightened" is all about....you learn how to walk away from your brothers when they are laying there dead in a shelter half, waiting for the Chopper to come in and take them home. To survive, you know that you have to shut down all feelings and just do your job. A lot of veterans coming out of combat have already lost their ability to "restart" their emotions and live a normal life. They will carry the memories of combat for their entire life. The civilian Dr's have attached many names to our demons...from "survivor guilt" to the catch all "PTSD". But they will never truly know what we are feeling.

For over 40 years now, I have dreaded a journey that I knew that I someday had to take. It involved me going to Washington DC to see the Vietnam wall. I asked my daughter to go to the wall with me because she was as impacted by the war as I was....I lost my mind in Nam, and she lost her dad. My daughter flew from Kansas and I flew from Florida to DC.....we planned to go to the wall in the morning. I woke up early the next morning and prepared for the trip to the wall...I honestly didn't have the slightest idea of how I would react to being there. I put my service ribbons on my Jungle Utility shirt that said "Russell".... "U.S.Marine". and we left for the Memorial. The wall wasn't as cold and frightening as I had thought it would be. I walked slowly by each panel of names...reading them....wondering if I would see names that I knew....while all along hoping that I wouldn't. By the time I reached the end I was crying....The sight of all my combat brothers names on the Granite Wall as a lasting tribute to "Americas finest children" gave me a different view of Nam....the war is over...

Now this is the Corpsman speaking: If you are a Nam Vet and having trouble with PTSD....DOC says go to the wall.....it won't cure you, but it makes you feel like you were also "One of Americas finest children" in answering your countries call, and doing your best........somehow you'll walk away knowing that your life mattered, and that you will always be a part of history,

My Daughter took this picture of me reflected in the Granite Wall.......sort of "the ancient worrier visiting his fallen brothers".

DaNang Ammo Dump

Sgt. Grit,

I just finished reading the story from Carl Baker about his experience on April 27,1969 when the DaNang Ammo Dump exploded and I thought this picture might be of interest.

I was assigned to HQ. Bn. 3rd MAR. DIV. and we had a compound located on Freedom Hill right next to the main PX. The picture, taken the day after the ammo dump exploded, shows me holding my prize possession. I had just pulled the locker out of what was left of the hootch that we had built ourselves just weeks before the dump went up. The pile of rubble in the back round is the main PX on Freedom Hill. Luckily, I had stored the tape deck in the locker before we were evacuated and it survived the blast.

J.R. Inganamort

USMC / Cpl. / 0331

Major Jack Ruffer

After reading Major Ruffers storey I had to add a tid bit of my own. Major Ruffer and I basically started our careers together, he was in Plt 264 and I was in plt 164 in Aug 1959. I graduated on Nov 17th and went to ITR, after ITR we got leave to go home for Christmas. Jack and I hooked up when we were both assigned to B Co, 1st Bn, 7th Marines at Las Pulgas, he was in Weapons Plt and I was in 2nd Plt. We deployed to Okinawa on April 1st (April Fools) in 1960. We became friends (Buddies). After returning from overseas in May 1961 we were assigned to B Co, 1st Bn, 5th Marines at Camp Margarita, 33 Area. We remained close and would go on liberty together. Since his Dad was in the Air Force and was at Norton Air Force Base in San Bernardino which wasn't too far from Camp Pen. My Dad and Mon were in Coronado, CA so I would go home when I could. I do not think we had cars at that time since base pay was low. My Dad was career Navy and after 30 years retired in Nov of 61. I had an Uncle who was in the Air Force also At Norton AFB, so we would go to San Berdo after my Dad retired and went back to Annapolis, MD since they owned a house there. Jack meet a girl in San Berdo and one thing led to another. Before you know it they were getting married. The wedding was held in San Berdo he asked me to be his Best Man ( the best man was getting married and I was his witness) see picture. I talked to him about Mexico but he did not go for it ( I was glad he didn't) Pat was a great catch and an outstanding person. She was good for Jack. We both went back to Camp Pen. Later in 62 we both were transferred to Marine Barracks, he to Alameda and me to San Diego Naval Station at 32nd St.

I then went to Drill Instructors school in July of 1964. After graduation I was assigned to my 1st Recruit Plt, 164 the same number Platoon I was in as a recruit. I finally made Sgt with a cutting score of 165 in Jan of 1966(spent 4 yrs as a Cpl). In 1966 I became a WSI and transferred to the Special Instructors section as a Drownproofing instructor at the MCRD pool. In 1967 I was so water logged I was assigned to teach Code of Conduct, some History and UCMJ. In Oct 1967 I received orders to Vietnam. Arrived in DaNang in late Nov in time for Thanksgiving and my first in-country birthday #27. I was assigned to Hq Co 2nd Bn 5th Marines in An Hoa, about 25 miles So West of DaNang. The beginning of Jan 68 the Bn moved to Phu Bai. Well we had not been there long when the TET offensive began. I ended up being a replacement assigned to Capt Christmas Hotel Co for about 30 days and went into Hue City. Getting back to Major Ruffer, we had seen each other on the Drill field. He had been selected to the Meritorious NCO program. The next time we ran into each other was in Phu Bai or DaNang, he was a Capt and been awarded a Silver Star and Purple Heart in Operation Medina. (The Book is called The Lions of Medina by Doyle D. Glass) I recommed it to all.

We kept running into each other over the years. Jack retired as a Major, I got out when I got back from Nam and went on LAPD. My Dad and some LAPD officers who were Marine Reservist talked me into joining the Reserves which I did. Jack and I reconnected through Together We Served, all of our stuff is on their web and FaceBook.

I have written enough. Picture of me attached.

Semper Fi Sgt Grit and keep up the Great Work.

Norman W. Honadle
CWO-5 Retired
Las Vegas, NV

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