I am a former U.S. Air Force Security Police NCO who served in Vietnam from December 16, 1967, to December 16, 1968...
The following is a brief introduction and initial incident that forced me to grow up very, very quickly...
The commercial jet that was chartered by the U.S. government to fly us over the "pond" (the Pacific Ocean) landed at Cam Ranh Bay during the daylight hours...
After processing in-country, my brothers and I boarded a C-130 troop carrier bound for my first assigned base at Tuy Hoa (pronounced: two-e-wa)... Riding in the "30" was not like flying in a passenger jet. The seats were all lined-up on each side -- in other words, we all faced each other across the isle. We had to sit in an almost reclining position with a belt to hold us half-way securely...
By the time the "30" hit the tarmac at Tuy Hoa, it was pitch black. The flight-line was crazy noisy, and smelly from all the plane and jet exhaust.
What caught my attention though, was the sight of huge, red tracer rounds flying through the thick, humid air, and ricocheting off the rocks and boulders of the foothills off to the west air base. This was nothing new, I was to find out later, but the usual "harassment fire" to disrupt any nighttime movement of the enemy (the VC and NVA) attempting to reinforce and resupply their comrades. The big .50 caliber heavy machine-guns were being fired from an army base two short miles to our south, housing a brigade of the 173rd Airborne Division.
Those .50 caliber tracer rounds shocked me into a reality: "...well, I'm really here in Vietnam!"
I was no longer reading about the war in some stateside newspaper, or hearing about it from the "6 o'clock news." I was really in the thick of it, and I would be for an entire year. What I didn't know is whether or not I would make it back home the following December; or, would the American Red Cross knock on the door of my parents' home in New Jersey relaying the news of my death?
After I, and my fellow cops settled in, the next couple of days were completely occupied with additional weapons training, including the LAW anti-tank shoulder-fired rocket, the M-60 machine-gun, more paper-work, as well as getting assigned to our respective units...
Mid-December quickly morphed into January (1968), things were pretty quiet at Tuy Hoa except for periodic reports coming over our radio of other air and army bases being "hit" -- attacked -- either by mortar, rocket, or ground assault by Charlie (VC) -- or all three!
It was common enough while on the perimeter during the night, to see battles being waged in the distance, between Army Special Forces and the VC or even the more organized NVA (North Vietnamese Army). Tracer rounds flying at each other, and "Spooky" the gunship putting and end to the commotion by spraying the ground with thousands of rounds of machine-gun fire from his Gatling guns firing up to 6,000 rounds per minute. A sight that I would never forget, especially when confrontations got just a little bit closer to the air base...
That's just what happened in the wee hours of January 30 into the 31st -- the Vietnamese New Year...
I was in an observation tower (Oscar Six) with a "short timer" -- who had less than 30 days until he was scheduled to return to the "world" -- the U.S.
Things seemed usual as the Vietnamese were celebrating the new year with "fireworks" -- tracer rounds flying upward into the night sky; green and red flares for additional fun, about four or five miles directly in front of our big tower.
As we were watching the festivities, those red tracer rounds stopped going up into the air, and now were fired at each other!
There were no longer any green flares (all clear), only red flares -- which meant enemy contact!
From this point on, things went downhill at break-neck speed.
The tracers and flares, along with explosions started creeping closer to our position...
The South Koreans were directed to start "walking in rounds" (105 Howitzer cannon rounds) toward the air base in an attempt to force the enemy into a trap -- a pincer strategy -- between the South Vietnamese Army, the U.S. Army helicopter gun-ships, and the air base.
As the battle raged, the prospect of being directly involved, grew more probable with each passing minute...
I set up my M-60 machine-gun with an extra belt of 100 rounds; locked and loaded; said and extra Hail Mary, and waited... My short-timer tower-mate turned to me and said: "DeLalla, I sure am glad you brought that "60" up here." "Me too," I replied...
At first, we could see and hear the damage being done to the real estate, as dirt, grass and old rice paddies were being blown to smithereens several miles out from the tower, but as the 105 rounds -- and the enemy force -- drew closer to QL1 (the main north/south highway in central Vietnam), the entire base readied for what seemed to be an inescapable battle heading our way...
In no time at all, the 105 rounds were exploding on our side of the highway, so close that we could feel the heavy shock wave hit the tower -- and us. The massive artillery barrage continued unabated and the prospect of us getting through the night unscathed seemed to fade from our thoughts...
To be continued...
Viva Cristo Rey! Fr. Miguel Pro, pray for us...
Gene DeLalla
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