On the night of December 20th 1968, the First platoon was sent on an overnight top-secret mission in the village of Loc An, that was the brainchild of military intelligence. After returning from a visit in Chu Lai with my brother Ed, instead of my "dud soldier" being transferred, I was assigned as 1st squad leader of the 1st platoon. The Captain thought that maybe I had become too close to my men and now I was given another group of men to see if I could make a better transition to NCO. My platoon Sgt. Was Edward Burke, a tried and tested was veteran of many fire fights . I had only been with 1st platoon about a week when we were given this mission based out of the bridge #4 security detail.

Two hours before dark, squad leaders were issued Starlite scopes that mounted as night sights above the barrel of our M-16s. they were infrared scopes that showed green images of silhouettes. They were awkward and bulky. It felt like your weapon was trying to constantly flip upside down on you. We were briefed about the mission and the necessary cooperation we would have to give the Kit Carson scouts assigned within our squads. I didn't want anything to do with Kit Carson scouts. Kit Carson scouts were former VC or NVA regulars that turned in their weapons for cash in the Chieu Hoi program.
The U.S. Army then trained them as scouts to lead American fighting units back into their old AO (Area of Operation) to seek out the enemy. Many of the units were led into ambushes by former NVA, now "trusted scouts".

I didn't tell anyone about my fears, but I was having bad thoughts about this "top secret" mission.
I did tell other squad leaders to know where your KC is at all times. SFC. Burke reaffirmed that these gooks were thoroughly screened, tested and true to their vows. Trust the army. Fortunately,
I wasn’t yet a "lifer" and didn't trust everything that the army told me. My KC would walk to my immediate front in the column. The order of my squad would be; Point man, Slackman,  Kit Carson,   Myself,   Herb-M-60,   Asst. gunner,  Ammo bearer, M79, a Cherry, Doc. Word, and 3 other men on Rear Security. The hell of it was… where are the other squads' KC's?  What are they doing? I trusted those proven squad leaders that their KC would be accounted for at all times.

The intelligence told us that the local population had confirmed to them, only after a captured VC interrogation, that the NVA were coming in from the mountains to raid their grain bins. If the didn't cooperate, they would all be slaughtered. We were to saddle up a platoon in broad daylight at the bridge and move north along Highway 1 toward Phu Bai. We were to make a good showing to the South Vietnamese people that we were moving north. After force-marching with the appearance that we had a definite destination, we met with combat engineers that had laid a minefield just off the highway. Every South Vietnamese in the area knew of the minefield and so did the enemy. The engineers were to lead the column safely across the field. The enemy would think this approach highly unlikely, near impossible because of the length of time the minefield had been there.

We headed west from the coastal plain toward the mountainous region. The first obstacle was the minefield. We moved across the minefield just as dark began to settle upon us with the sun already receded below the western mountains. We moved very slowly stepping exactly where the man in front of us stepped. We made a couple of turns in the middle of the array of mine, that was the key; knowing where to turn and which way, how many paces then turn again, and finally a slow moving beeline out of there. It took discipline. I had the thought occur to me that we put our lives in the hands of two combat engineers that had the knowledge of our safety in their hands. Out ravel time across the minefield was probably about 30 minutes, but it sure felt lie 4 hours to me.

The 1st squad, my men brought up the rear of the platoon. When my last man crossed the field, all were across and it was about total darkness. The unit turned back south toward the village to try and intercept the VC. The walk back was in total darkness on the blackest of the nights. SFC Burke's Kit Carson scout led the way along the rice paddy dikes and at one point I heard someone splash into the putrid smelling water. The South Vietnamese just piss and shit right along with the water buffalo in the paddies. What a hell of a place to die.

We came back into the village of Loc An, to the first major trail that ran east and west, and parallel to the river that was spanned by bridge #4. We turned right or west toward high ground. This is where we would look for VC. We moved quietly and ever so slowly , one step every ten seconds, looking into the black of night, but mostly listening. Up toward the head of the column, I heard Vietnamese voices whispering. Those damn Kit Carsons, tell 'em to shut up Burke, I thought. They don't need that many words to point the way for us. And then the unexpected happened. Our column was still and listening.
A little guy walked right up into me. I could see the oriental eyes through the darkness as I pushed him off my chest. Damn Kit Carson! NO! the word came out simultaneously with the safety of my weapon moving to rock 'n roll and the squeezing of the trigger. My gunner, Ralph Herb opened up in unison with me. I changed two magazines before I hit the ground. The night sky was lit up boldly with red and green tracers as I saw he first of three Viet Cong topple like bowling pins. The muzzle flash from herb's M-60 seemed a foot long and six inches wide in diameter. I wondered what it looked like from the other end. The VC got a good show. To my left I caught one of my guys firing his weapon into the air, straight up into the sky. That sorry, son of a bitch! He may go home and tell mom that he didn't kill anyone. Another may die because he wanted to remain unscarred by war. I could tell by counting the muzzle flashes in my column exactly who it was.

The initial contact had tapered off to  sporadic firing of M-16s. I heard not the special crack of an AK-47.
I ordered my men to hold their fire unless fired upon. I had my gunner and his AG, Stinnett, crawl up close to me while I assessed the damage with the starlite scope. There was loud screaming going on from out in front of us, toward the river. I looked through the starlite and saw three dead figures, the first not ten feet from where I lay. The fourth was lying on it's back, arms flopping and screaming. It seemed that it would go on forever. I squeezed off a three round burst from my M-16 aimed right at the armpit and just below. The screaming continued. I did it again. The screaming continued. Damn scope… piece a shit!

Then Burke, "what the hell's going on down there, you got wounded?" The entire rest of the platoon was on m right and I as at the trail intersection. That's how the gook walked into me. I replied, "No wounded, I got bodies in the killing zone". And then, "Burke, I'm gonna have my gunner lay out a couple of hundred rounds to stop that screaming". Burke followed up with, "do what ya gotta do over there. I'm calling in illumination". Then remembering that Herb had not seen what I had seen through the scope, I said, "Herb follow my tracers". I opened up for a few short bursts and my gunner followed.
The screaming continued. It was only forty feet away. I wanted to crawl up the trail and shove a bayonet into this flopping on the trail. I also had common sense and I wanted to live. I lay behind the gun and gave my 16 to Ralph so he could see through the starlite. He told me to fire off a burst if I knew where the "body" was. I opened up with a hundred round burst and moved it back and forth left to right, and from ten feet in front of me to where I thought the horizon should be. The screaming stopped. It took about ten minutes for this human being to die.

We then heard the sound of a prop job, propeller driven aircraft. Then small parachutes of illumination flares filled the sky. We had been using the cover of darkness, now we were very vulnerable to a counterattack. "Take Cover!" Why couldn't they drop them one half kilometer away? Why right above us? Burke crawled down to me and said that we were going to secure the enemy's weapons. The rest of the platoon was under orders to hold their fire, friendlies out front. I was in the process of carefully establishing a secure perimeter around our kill, when I saw one of the men collecting souvenirs. It was the one who fired up into the air. I ordered him out front where I had already been. He continued to do what he was doing as if I wasn't there. I would deal with him later.

Burke said for me to keep everything secure, that he was going to put a grenade into the hootch where VC had emerged. That is the hootch where the Vietnamese voices had come from, and the Kit Carson scouts had told Sgt. Burke what they had said, that most likely there were more VC sympathizers in the hootch. I told burke not to become a John Wayne with his grenade heroism. Lets just get back on line and fire it up until it disintegrates. Burke said that there were possibly innocent women and children in there. I said, let the VC have them, then we'll kill the VC when they leave. Burke agreed. Then I asked Burke to tell the bastards in the rear to stop the illumination. We were sitting ducks, but we knew that the rest of the VC had hauled ass.
Now we collected the six weapons, an RPG (rocket propelled grenade launcher) an M-2 Carbine, an SKS with a screwdriver bayonet (Soviet made) and three AK-47s (Soviet). We moved out in the pitch-blackness again, only it seemed blacker than before.

The game plan now was to setup a blocking force at the edge of the village. The rest of our company assisted by Bravo Company of our battalion, would sweep the village on our side of the river.
Alpha Company would sweep the other side of the river. Delta was somewhere along the base of those mountains. This is how the STRIE FORCE operated. Like a fine tuned banjo.
We walked cautiously and quietly in the dark. Though the VC ran from our huge volley of automatic weapons fire, we had the feeling that they hadn't run very far. The may be laid up licking their wounds. Knowing they were going to die, there was nothing for them to lose, they would run at you with everything they had, and all for Buddha and that great white rice paddy in the sky. The column stopped suddenly and we were listening for a long period of time. The feeling grew intense as I anticipated that impending movement that would cause my reflexes to go into action. I looked through the starlite scope. I was looking at a silhouette behind a log but very close to the column. I could see that he had a weapon. I was wondering… could one of our men have gotten down behind athe log? The column began to move, I ordered it to stop. The whole platoon stopped. Out loud I said, "Whoever is down behind that log better give me a good reason not to kill them". Before I finished that last two words, he was up and ran out of my view. To open up with a burst would have revealed my position. The VC could not see any better than I could on this night. I would protect myself, and my position.

That concluded any contact we had with the enemy on that night. We set up our position until the crack of dawn, as the sweeping forces moved through the village. I collected the souvenirs from the pillager and redistributed them to the brave men who fought, I let him keep an NVA belt with a Chinese Star and a manufactured date of 1965. In my book he was looting the spoils of war from the victors. He was a thief. I wanted to court martial him for ignoring my order to help secure the area. I didn't want to die because of another's greed and lack of support.

We approached the killing zone of the night before. There was weeping so loud that it was unbearable to listen to. It was coming from the hootch that Burke wanted to stuff a grenade into. At first I saw the four bodies lying on the trail exactly where I saw them last night. The fourth was the one that wouldn't die. It was a woman, she was beautiful and she carried the M-2 Carbine. She screamed for ten minutes that night. I was furious; I kicked one of the other bodies. My Kit Carson scout lightly placed his hand on my chest and said, "No, Booby-trap". I learned to respect him after that. The weeping seemed to get so much louder as Burke said, "Airwyke… come over here". I the saw drag marks where the body had been pulled into the hootch. I walked up cautiously and gazed into see before me, a VC with his intestines trailing behind him. He was obviously dead. Just then a woman rushed me and began to beat on my chest and say, "NO VC… NOVC" She beat harder. I pushed her off and leveled my M-16 on her. Burke said, "No! Somehow I was able to hold my fire; there were tears in her eyes.

We left there after surveying the damage, but not admiring our work. It was an ugly thing. I began to feel that some payback was due. That feeling eluded me as the radio was barking continuously about an after action report. The tracers we were shooting, every fourth round could be seen clear back to Camp Eagle in Phu Bai. Sgt. Burke informed me that the division commander, General Zais was coming out to decorate us. He told me that I would be decorated, and any of my men that I chose to list, for their bravery. I listed the entire gun team.

We got back to bridge #4 and there was brass all over the place. Majors and Colonels walked everywhere. I never saw so many jeeps in one place. I tool another guy and we turned in the six captured weapons at the company CP (command post). As I stepped off of the porch I ran into my old platoon Sgt.   Fletcher. He said, "It's about time you got your sit together". He went to Echo Company ReCon. He was collecting volunteers for six man patrols. I thought he was hinting for me to go with him. I had four months left in country and the thought just hit me tat I was beginning to get short.

We were given clean fatigues, actually brand new fatigues. I had not seen new fatigues since coming
to Camp Eagle and turning my issue in to supply for the guys in the rear area to wear.
There was an awards and decorations ceremony held in the center of the old Vietnamese
schoolyard near the CP. Two-Star General Melvin Zais would pin decorations on us.
The Starts and Stripes newspaper reporters were even there.