It was early March 1969 and Charlie Company, 1/501 IN was operating south of Phu Bai and well to the west of QL1, in an area of rolling foothills. Just a few clicks (kilometers) due west, the hills rose sharply and were covered with heavy, green jungle canopy but where we were, the terrain was open, sun blasted and almost bare of vegetation. Visibility extended for miles in all directions; it was good terrain for small unit infantry operations.
We seldom knew except in the vaguest terms, why we were sent to any given location, what we were looking for and how long we would stay. The Lunar New Year, Tet, had come and gone without the feared repeat of the major North Vietnamese Army (NVA) offensive of 1968. But there were lingering concerns about a possible major attack from the western mountains on Hue'/northern I Corps and I think that ours was a tripwire mission; we were to provide early warning if the NVA came out of the mountains again.
We patrolled by day and ambushed at night, each platoon sending out a squad sized ambush team of 10 men, two nights out of three. On the third night we would get a break of sorts, remaining at the company command post location and pulling security. The open terrain, long range visibility and fields of fire and the availability of artillery, gunships and TAC air support made our job relatively safe, easy and low stress.
One afternoon, I took a patrol well north of where we had been operating. We came to an unusual looking area with terrain very different from what we had seen to this point. Some ancient earthquake along an east-west fault line caused the ground to rise up 70-80m on the south side and even higher north of the line. The natural gap it created caught water from the mountains to the west, which flowed along the fault line toward the South China Sea. The heavy flow eventually carved out the long, narrow valley we were now looking down into.
At the west end of the valley was a large herd of water buffalo being tended as usual, by a couple of small boys. We knew this meant there was a village not far away but it was not marked on our maps and it was most likely VC. The scene was both peaceful and suspicious. The cliffs went for several clicks in both directions, were steep and we saw no sign of trails into the valley from either side. We stayed on top of the south cliff, got into concealed positions and we watched. It was such an interesting location that 6 (Capt Gibson) told me to ambush from it that night.
Across the valley to the north, we could see three successive ranges of hills/mountains, each one higher than the one before it. Above the valley, to the west, south and east of our location we had very defensible terrain with good cover and concealment. If the NVA came through the valley below, we could put heavy fire on them with little chance of them getting up the cliffs to attack our position directly and we could either call for fire support or if necessary, pull back. The weather was clear and comfortable, visibility was excellent, 500 meters plus in all directions and much further, to the north. We settled into our ambush as darkness came.
Several hours quietly passed, when we suddenly saw a small, open flame across the valley to the northeast. It was moving and as we watched more flames, this time stationary, began to appear. By this time I was deep into a series of radio conversations with 6, describing what we were seeing and getting artillery and helicopter gunships cranked up and ready to provide fire support, if needed. As we watched, a series of perhaps 10-12 small, individual fires were lit, running in a straight line to the northeast. Then at the east end, more fires were lit to form a large, inverted V, the head of an arrow.
This was a legitimate target. It would have be verified before any fire support was provided but we knew that it was the enemy. There was a problem however; the lack of depth perception at night made it impossible to tell how far away this fire arrow was from our location. I took got an azimuth reading on it but without knowing the approximate range, there was no way we were going to get artillery support and justifiably so.
The only solution was to get helicopter gunships involved. Pilots could eyeball the flames and home in on the target. But there was a long, unexplained and inexcusable delay in getting gunships off the ground. After 20+ minutes of watching this eerie fire show, still calling for gunships and checking all around for signs of the enemy, the fires began to burn out. Just as the last of the fires were dying, the call came that gunships were on the way to our location. But once on scene, the pilots couldn't see any signs of the fires and had no way to pick up heat signatures.
They flew around for a bit, made us feel good and then went back to their beds.The rest of the night passed without incident. We pulled back to the CP at first light and did the usual; cleaned weapons, ate breakfast, got some sleep and prepared to do the same thing, all over again. Nothing further was ever said by higher HQ about this incident, we forgot about it and within a few days left the area, going west into the triple canopy jungle of the Ruong Ruong Valley.
Donald F. Gourley
1LT (2-6); C Co, 1/501 INF
101st Airborne Division
RVN 1969
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