I served with "B" 1/12 1st Brg. (Airborne) 1st Cav 1965-1966. I did some sniping with a 30.6 hunting rifle. I went after enemy snipers and killed 2. I fought in Happy Valley 10/1965, Ia Drang valley 11/1965, Bon son 2/1966 and several firefights in the central highlands of Vietnam. Today I suffer from PTSD. When I went to war I thought it would be like a John Wayne movie. Most of my army friends died in Nam. Most of my high school friends died in Nam. Today I hope that your worst experience is training. Today I spend alot of time fighting the VA for benefits and also help other vets fight the VA. I can tell you how to kill I learned OJT. The army had no sniper school or sniper rifle in 1965.
I would like to share my PTSD story with you. There are many who do not believe that post traumatic stress disorder is the price paid for battlefield courage. I suffered from sleepless nights, terrible dreams and inability to make friends and stay focused in the workplace. I felt guilty for being alive. My first self treatment was alcohol. For me to prove I was suffering from being a courageous combatant I had to have a history of job loss, family loss and alcoholism.
We were in happy valley on a platoon size combat patrol. Intelligence reported that there was no enemy in the area and we were out tromping in the bush getting acclimated to the environment. Each man had 100 rounds of ammunition and only squad leaders and officers had hand grenades. We stumbled across a huge occupied North Vietnamese army bunker system. Those 100 rounds were barely warm up for an M16. We were in big trouble with barley enough ammo to protect ourselves. Bill Romanio was in the point squad and took a round in the arm and he was lying in an open position. I started out to get him and my Platoon leader Lt. Baker went with me. There were bullets hitting all around us it sounded like a 4th of July fireworks grand finally. I saw an enemy soldier pointing his rifle at me he was standing next to a big rock about 30 feet right in front of me. I fired 1 shot that hit him in the head and his head just exploded. That was my first kill. When we got to Romanio he was trying to put a tunicate on his nearly amputated arm, it looked like he got hit with a bullet the size of your fist. He looked at me and he was pale as a ghost he said I’m fucked. I applied the tunicate and started to cut the tendon that kept his arm attached he said please don’t. I put Romanio over my shoulder and took off back up the hill. Bill carried his arm in his mouth.
That was October 12 1965 a day from hell. Most the wounded died because there was no medical evacuation. We took more casualties from artillery called to within 25 meters of our position and helicopters tossing boxes of ammo through the canopy. That night Charlie took off. My best friend in Vietnam was Terry Wright and he was from Fort Wayne, Indiana and the first 17 year old killed in the war. The next day we cleared the bunker system and there was blood and bodies every where. We stayed in the bush a few more weeks and got back to base camp in early November. I was awarded the bronze star for going after Romanio. The stars and stripes said because of Terry Wright’s death you had to be 18 to get killed in combat.
My platoon was now down to just over a couple squads. The 7th battalion was going to Idrang valley for a search and destroys. So they sent us to join them because we were battle hardened and they were short on troopers and there was going to be a fight. We were paratroopers and they were legs. They considered us to be some real bad asses because of all the Charlie’s killed in happy valley. They stuck me and Hernandez with a short infantry squad that had a squad leader who saw action in the Korean War. I had now modified my combat gear to be useful in the bush. I passed on information that saved lives in the battle to come. What I am about to write is what I revisit in one of my nightmares. I will tell you what happened to me and us. We loaded choppers and as we were ridding our chopper horse to history the soldiers I joined seemed and acted like kids, I felt much older although I was the same age. I somehow felt responsible for their well being.
We landed on the LZ and things were quiet after we quit shooting. There was no incoming and we moved out to set up a listing post a few hundred yards up the hill. The terrain leveled out with very steep high ground on one side. The front and opposite side sloped down slightly and was filled with patchy thick brush. The rear was the steeper grade we just climbed. We decided to see if we could set up on the steep ground and started moving forward to find away up. I was on point and I felt very uneasy. I had a feeling that I was being watched. My gut feeling was we were in a bad place. I wanted to quietly look around. I gave a hand motion to get down and spread out. The team leaded was a spec 4 no it all who marched toward me yelling to get my ass in gear. All hell broke loose and he was standing in the open and was most likely the first man killed in Idrang valley. There were Charlie’s every where. They were in full assault and I could not shoot them fast enough. There was panic with the rest of the squad. We grouped in bunches looking for cover. The wounded were screaming in pain and yelling for the medic that was dead. I was with 2 wounded men still trying to fight when enemy solders charged at me with those long slender bayonets on the end of their rifles. I fixed my bayonet when I took point and I am alive today because I followed point procedure. I shot one and went to shoot the closest to me and my rifle was empty. I jumped up screaming as I lunged toward him and he was screaming as he lunged at me. The rifles hit first and I kept my bayonet pointed at his neck and his rifle slid down mine and away from my body as my bayonet made contact with his neck. His eyes crossed and he had a look of surprise as my bayonet ripped through his neck. The blood squirted out of his neck and hit me in the face with almost slapping force. The blood stung my eyes and went in my mouth. It tasted salty hot and human. I wiped my face with my arm which was also covered with blood. My guts were rebelling with a cramp of revulsion. I was almost blinded and filled with terror trying to see while holding in the puke. I cleared my vision. Tears were running down my face from the stinging. I got my rifle reloaded and started killing more cong. When I first got home I would wake up vomiting and I almost did as I relived what I wrote. We beat the enemy back and hold up in a thick bush area. Hernandez and I were in one piece, the second fire team of 5 was dead and our team had 1 dead and 2 wounded which died during the night. I did not know them and do not remember their names. The action I just described lasted about 15 minutes.
We collected all the ammo from the dead we could reach and loaded all the rifles and fixed bayonets on the m16’s. I puked until my guts were empty.
There was heavy fire going on back at the landing zone and we made radio contact with the platoon leader. He said for us to stay put and he would get to us. That night we lay awake all night. The next morning we booby trapped the friendly bodies with a claymore mine and worked our way back to the main force. We fought all day and we were clearly loosing many people. The artillery is the only thing that saved us from being overrun. That night I moved to the high ground looking down over the dry stony creek bed. I had no sleep in 2 days and was running on gut instinct. I looked for a place to make a stand and grabbed as much ammo as I could find, a couple guys joined me and we held our ground that night. The next morning Charlie hit us from everywhere and we were overrun. I think every fighter in Vietnam showed up and dropped bombs in front and behind us. Artillery exploded all around us and hundreds on both sides died. I saw Americans burned alive and I am not going to describe that sight or feeling. That is part of my story. I still taste the blood and smell the death. My therapist says I always will. When I came home I could not talk of such things. The war was bad and if one fought he was labeled a baby killer. Only cowards ask for help was the militaries point of view after all I was a paratrooper the tough of the toughest. Today I am unemployable because I am 56 and have PTSD along with 2 heart attacks and a recovering alcoholic. I did not lay down and die in Vietnam and I am not going away now. I would like to campaign for the rights of those of us who gave and continue to give. That night I lay with the bodies of solders that died horrible deaths I ask God why I was spared. Today I work with alcoholics who want recovery and that is what God wants me to do. Today I am unemployed, broke and doing something important with my life.