What do you think?
Rate this book
480 pages, Paperback
First published October 20, 1991
This is about what we did, what we saw, what we suffered in a thirty-four-day campaign in the Ia Drang Valley of the Central Highlands of South Vietnam in November 1965, when we were young and confident and patriotic and our countrymen knew little and cared less about our sacrifices.
The hairiest part of any operation was always the air assault. We had to time the flight and the artillery so close. When the choppers were one minute out the last artillery rounds had to be on the way or you get Hueys landing with the shells. We always sweated because if you shut down the artillery too soon the enemy could be up and waiting when the choppers came in. This one was precisely on time.
Throughout, there was the constant close-in noise of rifles, machine guns, and exploding grenades and mortar shells.
The enemy on the mountain started moving down rapidly in somewhat uncoordinated attacks. They streamed down the hill and down the creekbed. The enemy knew the area. They came down the best-covered route.
Suddenly the M-60 jammed. … Debris from the ground had caught in the ammo belt when Adams was hit. I flipped it right side up, slapped the ammo belt back in, slammed the feed cover closed and began firing again. It seemed like a lifetime, but it wasn’t more than five or ten seconds.
…
I don’t know what the hell’s happening. I’m out there by myself. I’m only a twenty year old kid. I don’t know what’s going on. I followed Russell Adams; I’m his assistant gunner so I go where he goes. That’s how I got up there.
…
While Doc Nall was there working on Russell, fear, real fear, hit me. Fear like I had never known before. Fear comes and once your recognize it and accept it, it passes just as fast as it comes, and you don’t really think about it anymore. You just do what you have to do, but you learn the real meaning of fear and life and death.
The Huey crews performed magnificently, running an enemy gantlet of enemy fire time and time again. They never refused to come when called. In turn, we did our best to call them only when fire was lightest, and we tried to have teams standing by to unload supplies and load the wounded in record time, to reduce the aircraft’s exposure on the ground.
As I looked down on the battle-scarred earth and shattered trees below, I felt pride in what we had done, grief at our losses, and guilt that I was still alive.
Diduryk, then twenty-seven, had commanded this company since May. He was eager and aggressive and yet totally professional; over the next three days and nights he would emerge as the finest battlefield company commander I had ever seen, bar none. He operated on the basic principle of maximum damage with minimum loss.