It was 1965 when I took the boat ride over with the 1st Div as a Battalion Liason Officer. Later, I took over the 2nd platoon of Bravo 2/28 probably in Nov., '66. Sergeants Ness and Baldwin were two of the squad leaders. [does anyone know how to get in touch with Baldwin?] Anyway, we did have the most together platoon in the whole battalion and did typically take point on any battalion size operation. It was a great group of guys and we really did rely on each other when the going got heavy. I was there when Col Eyster was killed on the "bloody mile" (Peter Arnetts term), and in fact, went after the sniper with several of my platoon. We got separated in the tall grass, but I came upon what looked like a bomb shelter and I threw in a grenade. Hind sight tells me that it was a very unusual place for a bomb shelter out in the middle of the boonies, and it probably was an entrance to an underground tunnel. Anyway, our noses were bloodied that day for sure. Bob Hibbs [Congressional Medal of Honor winner from Bravo Company] was an OCS classmate and a good friend. His loss was also terrible but that day the NVA paid heavily with over 300 killed.

George Dailey was a wonderful company commander and also a good friend. On that terrible day that he was killed my platoon led the operation with the task of securing the landing zone. When we were dropped off, seeing that it was not a hot LZ, I threw out a purple smoke grenade and radioed the second group of helicopters, which included our headquarters element (George and the 1st Sergeant) and I think the 1st platoon. I was still deploying the platoon (just seconds after the second group of helicopters lifted off) when I heard the jet and looked up to see the cluster bombs ( it looked like a swarm of bees). I yelled to hit the ground, and did so just as they hit. I don't know how much has ever been said about that day, but when I looked around there were dead and dying everywhere. I happened to land between two guys in my platoon and they were both killed. There were only 15 or 16 in my platoon that were not hit. I was told that they evacuated George almost immediately and the 1st Sergeant thought that he would be OK. I can't imagine today how we got through all of that, but the next day we set out again to complete that operation and 2nd platoon was at point. Things were never the same.

I have lots of memories of the operations and it seems that we were in the boonies almost all of the time. As I said most of the memories are bad and I am haunted to this day by the deaths of those I knew, and particularly the members of my platoon. To be honest, after the death of Captain Daily and that whole fiasco I am drawing blanks on a lot of what happened. I have trouble even remembering most of the names. I was wounded, along with Lt. Fish by a mine (not positive about his name but he was the platoon leader I replaced in 2nd platoon when he was previously wounded). Also I think that it was November when I replaced him. My first major operation was in Cu Chi in January. I don't recall much of what happened after I came out of the hospital until I came home.

When we were on that operation near Cu Chi in January 1966 our platoon (or maybe company), was on patrol in the boondocks and came across a VC compound of sorts (six or eight hooches), as well as perimeter fox holes. It was obviously VC as I stepped into a bungi pit but luckily landed on my feet between the stakes. There were also paper VC flags all over, as well as about five hundred pounds of rice from the good old USA. They were in bags of about 100 pounds each and they had a "hands across the sea" label from the United States. Any way, my point! We burned the hootches and threw the rice into a river. A few of the guys found a cooking pot, liberated a couple of chickens and started cooking them with rice and hot peppers (a standard condiment for C rations and every thing else). Mid way through cooking this delicacy we got orders to move out. I wish that I could remember his name, but the instigator of this cooking class was our usual point guy. Rather than give up his special dish he carried that pot for the rest of the day (several hours) including some time at point. That was a sight that you would probably not see in the newsreals. It might give one the idea that we were mighty tired of C rations.

I might describe a couple of incidents on a fairly light side. Shortly after taking over the platoon we were out north of Lai Kai on a patrol. There is a patch of jungle there that kind of surrounds an old French estate of sorts. I sent two squads around to the north of that patch and took the remainder of the platoon to set up an ambush at a trail on the other side, with the hope of the first two squads driving some VC to us. Shortly after setting up, I was looking up the trail and see some uniformed troops coming carefully toward us. They were maybe 30 yards away and I thought they were our people. We were all laying on the ground and I reached out and waved to them so that they would know where we were. The lead guy stopped and looked at me at amazement, yelled something and they all disbursed off to the side. I jumped to my feet yelling, shooting, and throwing a grenade and we all took off after them. We didn't accomplish anything except one of them dropped his cloth tube of rice and his nylon hammock. I used that hammock the whole rest of the time that I was there. These guys were obviously NVA as we were accustomed to seeing VC dressed in black pajamas.

We were on a Battalion size operation somewhere in deep jungle (high tree canopies etc.). I recall that we were with an ARVN size unit of about the same size. It was a very inconsequential operation. As a side note we learned how to fish ARVN style. There was a fairly large river there and they were able to get all the fish they wanted by simply throwing grenades in to stun the fish. Any way, out of the blue, Ann Margaret and Johnny Rivers were flown in to provide aid and comfort to us troops. I remember that Rivers had a very tiny pistol attached to his belt which may have been put to some use if he were attacked by a monkey. George took it upon himself to take them around to meet the guys and as he was walking by her side he was trying to motion to me to take his picture with her. He had his hand behind her as if he was patting her bottom and had the appropriate grin on his face. She, of course, didn't know what he was doing. Unfortunately, I did not have a camera with me. Anyone who knew George would know that this was typical of him. He had a great sense of humor. I've really thought often of him over the years.

On another occasion we were on a heavy operation in Loc Ninh, which was a hot bed for NVA being close to the Cambodian border. Our Battalion recon platoon was wiped out in an ambush there. One interesting day early on while we were there I stepped out of the perimeter to check on our outposts and conduct a little personal business. As I was standing there with my weapon slung I noticed an NVA soldier picking bananas from a tree. He also noticed me but we both went about our business and when he was finished he gave me a wave and I waved back. Later that morning our platoon went on a joint patrol with an ARVN company and that was really an experience. It had to be at least 20 miles. They were leading and they went straight down a trail with absolutely no security to the front or side. We were going so fast I doubt that an ambush could be set up against us. Anyway, about 2 or 3 in the afternoon we were getting back close to our perimeter and they all set down beside a road. I asked the American advisor what they were doing. He said that the ARVN tried to walk us into the ground but could'nt. They were not anxious to get back so they were going to rest there for a couple of hours. Now we were in the mood to show them up a bit so we told them we were going to continue the patrol by ourselves. I thought that it would be good to go into the area where my former NVA buddy was headed and that is what we did. We patrolled that area until dusk and were just heading back when Sgt Ness said that someone was shooting at us. He noticed a piece of bark coming from a tree. No one heard a shot but we finally saw them way across the banana plantation. They just happened to be right at the corner of the plantation according to the map. I called in an artillery strike on the absolute exact coordinates and it hit right in the middle of them. It was getting to dark to follow up that night and we intended to the next day. But that is another story. Anyway, I've often thought that I probably shared greetings with the same guy twice in the same day.

I was rotated out of Viet Nam in Sept. 1966 and was assigned to Fort Ord, which was nice because I was born and raised in Yreka, Ca. My final year in the service was as a basic trainee company commander, and a brief time as a coordinater of an armed forces celebration at Fort Ord. I went into banking and am just now in the process of retiring. My wife and I were married right after OCS and we had the first of four children while I was in Viet Nam. And, of all things, we are still married.

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