More about he October flood.
by Larry Kirby
A Field REMFs' Good Day
W
e were not getting across this time. The same six foot wide, ankle deep
stream at the bottom of the grass lined gully was now filled with rapidly
moving water eight to ten feet deep and almost 20 feet wide. Monsoon rain
will do this. I've been told that over 50 inches of rain fell on us in under
48 hours. It was like working under a waterfall.
Joe Robinson our CO, knew we'd never reach the place the battalion expected
us at by nightfall so we looked to plan B. Back up the steep hillside in
search an NDP we could defend for the night. The terrain was thick with fan
palms, wait-a-minute vines and sharp grasses. All of it had to be hacked
through. The rain was constant and chilling. As we chopped away a clearing
for our gear and threw up shelters, darkness took hold.
I pulled my radio close and began to monitor the traffic in the AO and run
commo tests with battalion. The old man was already on the horn and just
hearing his side of it made me wonder who back in the TOC had a brain. "No
it's not a stream any more". "No, we cannot get there. And yes, you will
have to report this to others".
I settled in with the handset and heard a crackling voice calling in a
problem and not being answered. I could hear them and the TOC and knew that
they could not reach each other. I called the voice and asked for a sit rep
to pass on. What I heard shocked me.
"We have a platoon trapped on a hill that's surrounded by rising water. They
have water 360 too deep to cross. Let someone know, they are in real
trouble".
I called this into battalion and after five full minutes got a voice that
told me to tell the unit in question to move to higher ground. I didn't
bother passing that back to them and replied to the rear echelon voice that
"higher ground was not an option" and the clock was ticking. "I'll be back
to you," he said. I told the guys in what I now know was B company, that I'd
made contact and that I'd keep them updated.
Another voice from the TOC "Tell them to head for higher ground, over".
"There is no FUCKING higher ground, over" I replied.
Silence, for another five minutes. I reported back to B company that I was
trying to make clear to the TOC that higher ground was not an option. I
asked how things were doing and was told that the guys were now standing in
water, the ground was gone.
This went on for over two hours, like a film loop. I'd tell the story and
some slack ass would get back to me with same sorry reply about higher
ground as if we were all morons tramping through the woods waiting for the
bright minds in the rear to instruct us in how to get in out of the rain
Wakely, the CO's RTO crawled over to tell me I was on watch, and I told him
to put me last, I was busy. Wakely's idea of a perfect world was having
enough people to divide the watch so he could get more sleep. Enough guys to
have a 15 minute watch while he relieved himself was his goal. He did this
favor for me and went on to the next guy.
I called the TOC again and asked who I could talk to with authority. I told
them that 30 grunts were going to drown if someone didn't get on the stick
and the next guy who said move to higher ground was going to be in real
jeopardy. I was going to kill him.
These guys know every RTO in the system. There was only one guy per company
who had a radio to handle this commo. We were all known to each other. None
of us abuse the network or we find ourselves replaced and soon. I had now
abused the protocols of civil speech twice. I was going to do it all night
if they didn't get a bird in the air and I swear I would have shot the place
up if even one more REMF with dry socks said "Move to higher ground". It had
now been over three hours from the time I first heard the call from Bravo.
It was still raining and cold. All I could think of was 30 guys banded
together somewhere out there in the dark surrounded by rising water while
some idiots under a roof with hot coffee didn't give a shit.
I finally got a guy whose voice I knew well. He handled the commo with
medivac missions. I told him the whole story for what seemed the 100th time.
He asked for an update and details. Finally, a working brain on the other
end. Within the next 15 minutes I took three more calls from bravo pleading
for these guys who were now in real danger of drowning. I passed the reports
on the guy who cared and he popped back on with a message that choppers were
called and should be on the way soon. I sent that message to Bravo and
stayed on the lines until I could hear the traffic between the chopper and B
company.
I didn't fire a shot, or climb a hill of do a damn thing that taxed me
physically, I just stayed on a radio telephone and became a squeaky wheel
that had to be listened to. It was my best day in Vietnam.
Larry Kirby
Charlie Company, 1st 501st
More about he October flood.
Mark Regan and I became acquainted on this site when we both knew about the
flood and the stranded platoon that was so well described by Dave Pfeifer in
his story. Mark was one of the B company RTO's that night and I was with C
company not too far way. We were both glad that Dave posted his version, we
were beginning to doubt it ever happened. The curse of age.
LK