Fragments of Memory
1st Lieutenant Le Van Canh
1. The departure line was our own trench. The enemy was presumably on the other side of the road. The group on the right, led by Sergeant Ky, was composed of six men who had been divided into two sub groups. Corporal Bieu was in charge of the group on the left, in which there were also six men, who again were divided into two sub groups.
Corporal Qui's machine gun group was positioned in the middle. To the right was the 3rd platoon, which would provide support but not attack directly. The men were armed lightly, but carried the maximum possible number of grenades. I, as the Platoon leader addressed the men: “It is 5:24am now. We have six minutes to prepare and ten minutes to move from here to the closest side of the road, about 40m away. Are we clear?”. “Yes sir”. they responded.
There was another four minutes before my unit was scheduled to commence the assault. Time seemed to stand still, hovering in the fog out there. I lit the third cigarette of the day, and stared out in front, not really focussing on anything. Certainly not at the road which I had looked at countless times since yesterday afternoon after joining this new unit - the 1st Company of the 9th Marine Battalion. This company had recovered the military and civilian hospital in Quang Tri two days previously.
2. Eleven 3rd Lieutenants, fresh from Thu Duc Military School, stood in a row to present themselves for duty to the Battalion Commander, Lieutenant Colonel Nguyen Kim De, a man who at first glance had the look of a gangster. Suddenly he barked at them. “If you don't run now when do you plan on doing it?” The new graduates looked at each other stunned, and it took a few more seconds for them to comprehend, whereupon they scattered seeking shelter. Not a second too soon as 70mm mortars exploded right were they had been lined up neatly before. Minutes later, as the noise of the explosions died away they heard the Battalion Commander's voice rise up before the dust and sand had settled. “Where are all the new 3rd Lieutenants?” They gathered again, and numbered off one to ten. But no eleven. The chief of the group ordered a recount and they numbered off again, once again stopping after ten. One person was definitely missing. At that moment a soldier reported that a 3rd Lieutenant had just been killed. After checks it was confirmed to be Nguyen Manh Bao. Lieutenant Colonel De ordered the men into three groups. “Four of you to the 1st Company. Two to the 2nd Company. And four to the 4th Company. Execute immediately”.
My group was composed of four 3rd Lieutenants (Tuan, Ngan, Thinh, Canh), four under officers and twenty one privates - all new, and all of whom were assigned to the 1st Company. Pham Gia Tuan was to remain at Battalion Headquarters near the Long Hung T-junction. The other three climbed into a jeep somewhat anxiously, and were driven painfully slowly and bumpily over the mounds of bricks, timber, tiles and stones. By then, after so much bombing and shelling, the city of Quang Tri was little more than piles of rubble and debris. Further in the distance, and in fact where they were now headed, the communists were still shelling. Black columns of smoke billowed sky high. There was a booming sound, which only days later would they come to recognise to be the sound of the enemy's departing mortars. Booms and then the howling of the released mortar followed by an explosion. Motherfuckers. What a way to greet new soldiers!
I thought of his close friend Bao. We had bunked together, one on the top and one on the bottom bunk bed back at Thu Duc Military School. Only yesterday on the flight from Tan Son Nhut to Phu Bai, Bao was crassly boasting about his many sexual encounters with his girlfriend before he had had to leave to join the unit. Now he was already dead and packed in a poncho with a stainless steel dog tag bearing his identity wrapped around the outside. His poor girlfriend who was most certainly still unaware of the tragedy. At least it was a fast exit. No pain, no drawn out excruciating suffering. It was a pretty rough but accurate lesson about the realities of war for the new arrivals. Like me, you weren't even twenty yet! Vale Bao.
3. In the dim light, everything took on a slightly surreal atmosphere. Yesterday was 12 August 1972; barely twenty four hours had passed and yet the events of the day before seemed a lifetime ago. 3rd Lieutenant Nguyen Manh Bao had barely finished presenting himself for duty to the Commander when he became a post humous 2nd Lieutenant. A mortar had landed on him with deadly results. The remaining ten classmates stood shell shocked. Twenty eyes stared in horror at the remains. His two upper limbs were curved upwards where his head had been; his two lower limbs were stretched apart and still contracting spasmodically. The headless body, the lay of the legs... I was reminded of the frogs which my mother used to prepare and cook for me. I shuddered at the thought.
Hiep, my orderly, brought me a cup of coffee. “2nd Lieutenant. Gulp this down to warm your stomach”.
“You've promoted me to 2nd Lieutenant!”
“Second or Third. It's all the same”. Said Hiep laughing.
I held the cup and took a swallow. “It's nice.”
1st Sergeant Rang, the deputy platoon leader, reported to me. “3rd Lieutenant. Everything's ready”. Sergeant Ky's squad has moved.
“It's our turn now.”ê I said. “Let's go.”
Hiep left the cup of coffee and walked with me out of the trench. It was 5:30am on 13th August 1972.
4. While the sky overhead was relatively dark we had to crawl along very slowly. Had we walked crouched forward, we risked being spotted by the VC who might have been lying flat on their stomachs observing. Even if they could not see the marine clearly, they would easily be able to make out their moving shadows against the sky which was gradually bearing the red streaks of dawn. And then the element of surprise to the attack would be gone.
On my right, closer to where the enemy were, was Sergeant Ky's squad also advancing quietly. Just another 15m and they would reach the near side of National Highway One. On my left, a little bit behind, was Corporal Bieu's squad who were also crawling forwards. Under the dark sky, the fog hovered about our heads. Despite the cold temperature in Quang Tri, we were all sweating heavily. No memories occupied our minds. No lingering thoughts of parents, friends, girlfriends, traditions or customs. The memories seeped out with the sweat. We were completely focussed on the present which occupied an ever expanding space in our heads. The future was the road lying before us, and the only thing that mattered was the eighteen lives on the line, including my own. By hook or by crook we were going to cross that road. Everything was left behind. Now it was just us and our mortal bodies. Though we had just met the day before, the common fate created immediate bonds of trust and love.
By the time the last soldier in Corporal Bieu's squad had crawled to the designated point, we were evenly spread out along a 50m stretch of National Highway One. We were five minutes behind the scheduled time, but it was not too late for the games to begin. I gave a signal and grenades were in hand. On my count of three, we all lobbed our grenades to the other side of the highway. The sound of eighteen grenades simultaneously exploding shattered the suffocating stillness of the battlefield, and signalled the start to a day full of deadly challenges.
Our audacity was rewarded with twenty enemy grenades being hurled back at them from the other side of the highway. The sky was becoming brighter by the moment. “Don't worry Sir” said Hiep. “These buggers are easy to deal with”. He leapt up and grabbed the grenades and lobbed them back to the enemy's side. The enemy's grenades were made in China and had a longer fuse time. Hiep kept up this backward and forward volley of grenades. After the sixth time (of having their own grenades hurled back at them just in time for the grenades to detonate), the enemy ceased the deadly game. It was time to cross the highway.
5. The width of the highway was about six metres. The enemy, a unit of the NVA's 48th Regiment, Division 320 was presumably waiting. Their goal was to recapture the hospital in Quang Tri. Had my men not capitalised on the element of surprise and lobbed the first eighteen grenades this enemy unit would have made mincemeat out of us had we attempted to cross the highway without the grenade prelude. I had spent all afternoon the day before assessing the lay of the land. My men were positioned lower. The enemy were higher up on the incline of the Le Huan Hill.
6. I looked at Sergeant Ky then pointed to the other side and nodded. Sergeant Ky understood and sent three soldiers to dart across the highway. Ky himself and two other also tried to dash across but were gunned down on the road.
“This is Cao Tan calling Phuong Quang.” Phuong Quang was the radio code name of the M48 tanks.
“This is Phuong Quang. Stay there. I saw the target.” The enemy's machine gun position was blasted by three consecutive 90mm rounds fired from the tanks. The friendly fire provided effective support. Hiep crawled towards me.
“Sir”, he said. “Make sure you run like this.” And made a zig-zagging motion with his hand. I nooded, and turned to Qui and Bieu, signalling for them to cross the highway. Six metres, I thought. Six metres to run the dividing line between this life or the next. It was over in a flash. And the next instant they were on top of what had been the enemy's position on the other side of the highway. There were twenty one foxholes, and a corresponding twenty one communists dead. “Advance forward.” I ordered “earch 20m across. Then stay in your places.”
To the left, a little way away, the nose of the enemy's machine gun barrel pointed skywards. Behind me three metres away to the right lay Sergeant Ky and two others on the highway. They were immobile and the splatter of blood and brain formed a gruesome red and white marbling on the road surface. They had fallen on the wrong side of the six metres separating life and death. My thoughts were interrupted as Corporal Bieu reported to me. “Sir, the three communist machine gunners have been killed. Their feet had been bound together to the position by chains.”
It was far from a happy introduction to the battlefield. I wanted to offer up my respect for the soldiers who had sacrificed their lives. If it wasn't you, it would have been me. That was the way it worked. There will always be those who don't get up after a battle. Vale Sergeant Thi Dac Ky, Private Nguyen Van Thanh, and Private Tran Van Phu.
The fighting continued well into the next day. At some points in the night, the enemy breached our defensive line; other times we broke through theirs. Both sides battled desperately to hold their defensive lines. It was fighting in close quarters with guns and bayonets. Sometimes resulting to brute force with the aid of shovels. Soldiers wrestled desperately with each other rolling over the tops of bunkers, into bunkers, throwing kicks and punches and curses.
But the final target was still there: the Thach Han Bridge and the chosen logistical pathway to the Old Citadel.
Major Pham Cang, the Executive Officer of the 9th Battalion was in direct Command of Bravo Group, consisting of the 1st and the 4th Company. The three platoons of each of the three new 3rd Lieutenants were assigned a very important mission. There were three M48 tanks and two M113 APC. The Captain, the Commanding Officer of the 1st Company was in one of them. No matter how intense the NVA shelling or mortars were, the 1st Company was to cross National Highway One and proceed until it reached the southern end of the Thach Han Bridge. Back at Marine Headquarters, Brigadier General Bui The Lan had chosen the exact target and specified precisely which unit was to perform this duty. This time, the 9th Marine Battalion would not form the rear guard like on previous occasions like Operation Lam Son 719 or in the retreat out of Quang Tri at the beginning of the Easter Offensive. This time, it would spearhead the assault on a well prepared enemy.
Under the direction and planning of its talented and highly intelligent Commanding Officer, Lieutenant Colonel Nguyen Kim De, and its XO, Major Pham Cang, the 9th Battalion duly completed its mission to everyone's satisfaction. They put in place everything necessary to enable the 3rd and the 8th Marine Battalions of Brigade 147 (from the north east) together with the 6th and the 2nd Marine Battalions of Brigade 258 (from the south west) to overrun the final target - the most difficult but the proudest target for all the Marines.
On 16 September 1972, the national flag with its three red horizontal stripes against a yellow background was raised by the marines over the ruins of the Old Citadel of Dinh Cong Trang.
1st Lieutenant Le Van Canh
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