SONG BE 1968

Song Be, was the ultimate of major screw ups. On C-141's direct from Ft. Campbell, IN JUMP SEATS and in full combat gear, the 1/506 Inf. (3rd Bde.) came in -country in Dec 67 (combined 2nd & 3rd Brigades of the 101st) while the 1st Bde was separate in Phu Bai. The Base Camp for the 2nd and 3rd was Phouc Vin, between, Bien Hoa and Hue, but not equidistant. You never have seen so much metal in the air at once. It looked like O'hare in Olive Drab and Red webbing. I came in with D-1/506 in HQ. Co. with responsibility of all TO&E weapons not carried by the troops. This included all 45's, M-60's, unassigned 16's, 79' etc etc. It was four conex’s full of shit. Well, when we arrived, we were short one footlocker of 45's... guess who was the PFC they wanted to hang. You got it. I had no clue where they were, but they did turn-up later.

    While accused, they made myself and another guy who was accused of losing commo gear, go and re-supply the entire 2 brigades' bunkers with heavy weapons ammo. This included, 50 cal., 90mm, M-79, claymores and God knows what else. After two days straight of this horseshit, with no sleep, the other guy (Ed from the somewhere in the northeast) and  I decided to park the front-line ambulance they gave us to distribute the ammo, and catch some ZZZZZ's. Whoa and behold, the XO (2nd in command) who did all the accusing came in my hooch and woke me, very abruptly, and was pissed, and stupid, saying " who told you to stop moving ammo???”  Well, for his trouble, I punched this 2nd Leut. smack on the button and he was out for about 10 min.. When he awoke, he proceeded to give the  same crap to Eddie, who responded with the butt of an M-14. Mind you, this was not planned. About an hour later the MP's showed up at the beer hall, where Ed and I retreated to, (nothing to lose) with this beat-up and highly pissed shithead. They would not arrest us and we denied everything. The MP's said it was a matter for the C. O. to handle. Here is where it got pretty interesting.    The Battalion (1/506th) was in Song Be, with the C. O., providing flank security for Americal Division, who were knee deep in an NVA battalion. Casualties were running 75 % for the past three days.

 Our divine XO, was so pissed, he called for a chopper to insert us into the fray. What he didn't tell them, other than to see if they could put us where we were sure to get killed, was what unit we were to be inserted to. They kicked us out in the middle of Americal's action. The chopper got hit, but not downed. There was an enormous amount of 50 cal. fire everywhere ( big red tracers and even more green ones). Ed and I looked at each other in fright. There was nowhere to go, literarily. . We started crawling toward the OD quad-50, thinking it was ours, until we saw all the gooks on and around it. Surprise, we were going in the wrong direction. We laid there for about 15 minutes, in shock, until we figured out that the gooks had captured the quad 50 and turned it on our guys an another 50 cal position. There was a lot of bodies and equipment everywhere, what a bullshit tip (aka BST), kind of like a humbug, but worse sometimes, because you live through it.

    There were two bunkers ahead of us that had all the sand bag cloth ripped off them from enemy fire and that was it for safety. There was not a tree for 100 yards. It took an hour of very careful low crawling before we made it to the first bunker, it was a mess. One guy had a head wound and the other had already died of wounds. The head wound guy was incoherent. We tore the inside of the bunker apart looking for a radio or land line, but found nothing. Another 15 minutes of shit flying over our heads at a furious rate, before moving on to the second bunker, where we found a land line. Ed kept calling, calling, calling for about 30 hellified minutes, it seemed like hours, trying to get an air strike called in on the captured 50 cal. Machine gun. I provided some very discreet cover fire and then moved back to check on the head wound guy. Ed thought I was shooting at him because of the low trajectory to the quad. He was screaming at me" Bradley, are you trying to kill me", these were words of infamy, that still ring out in my head. The 30 minutes of routing had finally passed before the quad was "naped" (Napalm), HE'd (High Explosive) and raked with 20mm (Auto-Grenage Launcher) by a "Sandy", a propeller aircraft that was so close, I thought was going to land on my bunker. The explosion was so great that the bunker jumped three feet and the fireball smoked everything around us including some of my hair. This was truly my first experience with packing a helmet with my butt, arms and legs. While the strike hit hard and fast, it seemed even faster that all the firing stopped dead. I don't recall hearing one round after that, but I'm sure there was. When the quads stopped, it was like peace on earth. I probably couldn't hear anything for a while, due to the bomb explosions and intense noise.

    It didn't take long before you could hear voices and start to see the Americal Division guys coming back to reclaim their  former positions and unfortunately  many former friends. I never did find out who or what happened to the head wound guy after the medics got to him. (He's always been a prayer of mine) Ed and I were beat-up, but not wounded except for a cut over my eye, probably self-inflicted.

    That night, we were called to the Americal's Command Post and were asked to stay for the next day. Ed and I hung out with the other grunts and talked about home, dew, beer, women and anything but what had just happened. Don't ask me why, I really don't why...nobody said shit about the battle.

    The following day we were taken by a jeep to the 101st area for extraction back to Phuc Vin. Nothing said yet, but Ed and I knew we were in deep shit with the XO and now the CO, as we were sure he had been told about the punches and buttstrokes. Actually we talked about whether or not we would go to jail in Levenworth. We were so new in-country that Long Binh (am Army Prison) had not become part of or dialog. The chopper ride back was hell due to anticipation. As expected, the second Lieutenant was waiting for us on the chopper pad. When we stepped off the bird, all he could say was "I'll deal with you later", but he had more than dealing on his mind. Whew. We went back to our hooches.

    The next bird in had the C. O. and some of the walking wounded on it. It seems that the 1/506th got their cherries broken at Song Be too. There were 5 KIA's and 30 wounded, mostly from the captured 50 cal. Machine gun. It was the first we heard of the 101st Causalities, it was the first we had seen of our own guys.

    The Leut. was at the door after lunch chow and called the two of us off to the back of the barracks to pour down hell and piss upon us and tell us what he was going to do to us for the rest of our miserable lives. This took all of an hour in the very hot sun. I recall almost passing out. But, after the hour the C. O. walked up, Whispered in his ear something sweet, and we were dismissed. Hmmm No Jail, No M.P.'s. Actually this was scarier.

    We were told of a mandatory formation, first thing in the morning. At this formation were the helmets, boots and jump wings of the dead. I knew them all. It really tore me up. That was followed by a dissertation by the C. O. and platoon leaders, if available. Lt. Fox was KIA, one hell of a nice guy, not too much older than myself. All I could think about was that why could it not have been the other asshole, the XO, instead of Fox. The C.O. came back to center to discuss one more item of business.

I figured this was it, two court martials....

    Instead, He read two commendations verbatim, from a Full Bird Col. at the Americal Division, first for Ed for a Silver Star, and then me for a Bronze with the "V" device. It seems they had seen us get inserted, thought we were medics, then thought we were dead. But mostly, they thought we were insane for calling in an air strike so close to our (and formerly their position). The comments about the courage of the 101st were spine tingling, they really had a lot of respect for the Screaming Eagles, but the comments about the proximity of the air strike made me feel very stupid, especially with all the hair burned off my arms. Believe it, that when Ed and I did talk about the air strike, neither of us believed that it would be so big and furious. We both said " My God was that stupid, it could have been our boots out there". But then again, if we were killed, there would have been a party in certain circles, no doubt thrown by the shithead XO. Boy did us two grunts stuff it up his butt.

    After the formation broke, the C.O. shook our hands again and said how proud he was to read the commendations and that he fully supported them and metals were to follow, but not at 1/506th. This was apparently because the XO vowed retaliation and the CO was not sure he could protect us from this asshole. Therefore, we learned a new word beside Long Binh that week, it was called "infusion". It seems the 1st Bde was really hitting the shit, way up North, and that I would be needed to take a slot in a rifle company. I'm sure, but I think the XO had something to do with the MOS change and the assignment.

    In retaliation for his retaliation, I took 6 quarter sticks of TNT and put it with a M1A1 fuse igniter and 30 seconds of fuse and blew the Officers shithouse into matchbook sized particles. It happened to be the closest building to the XO's quarters. When leaving the very next morning, I could not help myself from laughing all the way to the chopper pad after seeing the volume of shit and toilet paper all over the XO's hut. I think he got the message, so did I. Rumor has it that he got pushed into S-4 right after we left.

    I've never found Ed or talked to him again, as we were sent far and wide because of our "infectious attitudes".    That's about it, you pretty much experienced or saw the outcome of my "infusion". It was all up-hill from there.
This incident certainly does not reflect the best traditions of the Army, the 101st, nor of the attitudes of it's men during a major conflict. It’s just the way things happened in a combat zone. Where emotions are high and reactions are not thought out.

Note: The officers names are left out intentionally because this war story is extremely verifiable and would be embarrassing for some involved
Used with permission of the Author, whose name is omitted by request