Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Fire-FIGHT...or Fire-FLIES?!


Inspection of river traffic was only a part of the PBR's role in the Vietnam War. Although it's an ARDUOS job, I also consider it the SAFEST. The OTHER parts are the ones that give you "goose-pimples" just by thinking about it. These are the NIGHT PATROLS, PSYCHOLOGICAL WARFARE, INSERTION of the ARMY LRRP's, INSERTION of the NAVY S.E.A.L.'s, special operations and NIGHT AMBUSHES.


Any of these were a GUARANTEE for a firefight. However, in some bizarre twist of events, these operations become a COMEDY of errors and laughter.


It was one of those November nights with overcast skies and intermittent rain. PBR -139 and PBR-142 were to rendevouz with two (2) other PBR's in order to set up an ambush at the upper CU DAI for an expected VC crossing. All the details were already discussed in the evening briefing, and it was only a matter of time to put the plan into action. The crews of PBR's 139 and 142 had been through several of these ambushes, as well as BEING AMBUSHED, before. These experiences were NOT GUARANTEE's that the operation would go smoothly.


In War, EXPERIENCE only CALMS the SENSES. It's not a SHIELD from the enemy's bullets. I can say that all of us were TENSE and JITTERY.


It's hypocritical to say that I wasn't SCARED. I felt like PEEING IN MY PANTS everytime we were in this type of operation. However, being the Boat Captain, I could not let my crew see or feel that from me. I learned to CONTROL my fear. Our lives depended on how I handled our boat in any tight situation.


Waiting for the signal to take our positions at the river bank was like ETERNITY. In altruism, we are all wishing for any type of intervention, even a DIVINE intervention, for the signal NOT to come. When it came, all I've heard from my crew was deep sigh of "...Oh, shit..."


EN2 Davis with PBR-139 went into ambush position first. PBR -142 followed and took position approximately 30 yards to her port. The third PBR soon took her position on the OTHER side of the canal approximately 50 yards to PBR-139's STARBOARD. I'm not too sure of the boat captain's name. All I can think of was SMI KUHN.


Now it was the fouth PBR's turn to take position. The Boat Captain was SMI MILES. Both SMI Kuhn and SMI Miles were NEW to the country and a bit COCKY. As soon as SMI Miles' boat hit the river bank, the area LIT UP and ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE. "Tracers" were ALL OVER the place. PBR-139 and PBR-142 instantly got out from their ambush position and was about to make a firing run to support the two PBR's, when commands of "Cease Fire! Cease Fire!" echoed in our radioes.


When all the shooting STOPPED, to our surprise, the area was STILL LIT UP. However, the lights were FLYING back and forth to and from the SAME bushy spot. Only then did we realize that it was bush full of FIREFLIES. This is what SMI NILES' boat hit on the river bank, and mistook those for gunfire. All of us sped to the middle of Cu Dai, came alongside and assessed the situation. We couldn't help but LAUGH. The patrol officers decided that it was better off to return to our respective patrol areas for the rest of the night.


It was a night of laughter because in all the memories of WAR, we were the ONLY ONES who could say that we had a FIREFIGHT WITH FIREFLIES. Only then had I realized that I had pee'd in my pants.


For the VIETCONGS? Well, I'm sure that the sounds of the forward .50's coming from SMI NILES' gunboat sent them a clear message of what was waiting for them had they tried to cross the river. They were no fools. Since then, no more A-I reports have been reported. This was GOOD NEWS for all of us.


For SMI NILES? Well, I'm sure that his EGO took a hit and his PRIDE was HURT. But he was man enough to take the JOKES with a SMILE. He laughed each time the incident came up in a conversation.


For ME? I just chalked it all up to EXPERIENCE. I knew this "cat-and-mouse" game between us and the VIETCONGS was still FAR from being OVER. They would still transport troops, ammunitions, medicines, etc... across the river anyway that they could. It was just a matter of time. However, I was DAMN SURE that each time that they tried, they would CROSS THE VOLLEY OF FIRE from the PBR's!!! It didn't matter WHICH PBR, as long as the VIETCONGS did NOT make it across the river.


About the FIREFLIES...? Well, I know that this incident could only happen once. To dwell on it and become complacent is an invitaion to disaster. However, I'll be a HYPOCRITE to say that I didn't leave my hopes open to see those wonderful critters of the night AGAIN!!!


NEXT: PISTOL PACKIN' MAMA!!!

The COMICAL side of WAR

The word "WAR" is a connotation of KILLINGS, DEVASTATION, VIOLATION of HUMAN RIGHTS, SADNESS and pretty much anything that causes fear and anxiety in the human heart and mind. So far, nothing GOOD can be said about War. However, War has ANOTHER side to it - the COMICAL or FUNNY side.


The stories or the theme of War is often set on life and death situations, however, for SOME UNEXPLAINABLE REASON or twists of events, these life or death situations become as COMICAL and AS FUNNY as it can be. Needless to say, these events are caused by UNITENTIONAL doings or UNCONTOLLABLE human reflexes.


Anxiety, fear and panic often play games with the human mind, and when these emotions set in, action and reasoning CONFLICT with each other. I am fortunate that in my early days in War, I was able to set it's precedence. That is - ACTION takes precedence over REASON. My mind and body became IN SYNCH and I made DAMN SURE that it stayed that way. I'd already seen so many dead bodies and I am truly sorry for them, for THEY NO LONGER HAVE A STORY TO TELL.


The names to be mentioned in these FUNNY STORIES are REAL. I have no intention to DEMEAN nor cause any sort of EMBARASSMENT to these persons or their families. These events and situations were part of my life in Vietnam, and these persons are truly a part of it. These persons are members of the RIVER RATS and I have the utmost respect to each and every one of them.


All of us shared these SAME STORIES with LAUGHTER, and I hope that the SPIRIT is still within them, and that they experience the same FUN and LAUGHTER upon reading these stories. Here they are...


NEXT: Fire-FIGHT...or Fire-FLIES?!

How To IDENTIFY The ENEMY


"CIVILIANS KILLED IN FIREFIGHT!"


These headlines, whether true or not, create a BLACK MARK for the military, and places it between a rock and a hard place. And soon enough, fingers start pointing. To save face, an investigation takes place and usually ends with a COURT MARTIAL, with one or more military servicemen convicted. Guilty or not, their military career is FINISHED. Their lives are reduced to SHAMBLES, and they will be haunted by these turn of events for the rest of their lives. That's such a waste.


A "CAN CUOC" or identification card is not a guarantee. I've checked HUNDREDS of "CAN CUOC"'s every day during our patrols ands I STILL COULD NOT DISTINGUISH a CIVILIAN from the ENEMY. As hours passed by, all of them started to look ALIKE, and I'm as confused as when I started. It seems ALL their names were "NGUYEN".


It was a rainy November afternoon. The "poncho" was never enough to keep us dry. The weather was humid, and the FLAK JACKET issued to us didn't give an ounce of comfort at all. We had inspected enough SAMPANS, cargo and passenger boats for the day, so I decided to take a break. I swung my boat, PBR-142, towards the middle of the river, shut the engines off, and just drifted with the current.


The CU DAI is the WIDER side of the MEKONG RIVER. The middle part is a long distance from the North and Southern banks, well out of a SNIPER's range. Nevertheless, vigilance cannot be taken for granted. Being the Boat Captain, it was my prerogative to allow some brief RELAXATION for the crew, with that being a QUICK DIP in the waters of the Mekong River. Often times, it's the MEDIOCRE swimmer that takes this break. The forward twin .50 Cal. remains manned. With a ROPE tied to his waist, the swimmer treads water at the STERN of the boat with one crew membertending the rope.


In the midst of WAR, anything that could erase or soothe a warrior's worries and pain are a blessing. This brief swimming event gave us joy and moments of laughter.


Within a few minutes, however, we heard full blast on the boat's radio a message coming from My Tho HQ: "RVN's OUTPOST AT MOUTH OF CUDAI UNDER ATTACK! PBR's IN AREA PROVIDE SUPPORT!!!" This was within our patrol area and within seconds, the patrol aboard PBR-139 was sending coded messages to proceed and meet at the vicinity of the outpost.


Ah, well. It was good while it lasted.


All guns were manned and PBR-142 was underway. PBR-139 was closer to the area under attack, and as soon as she was in sight, her GUNS were LOUD and sounded like an invitation for PBR-142 to join in the firefight. And join in we did! We made several FIRING runs and these were ENOUGH to supress the enemy's fire. When the firing had ceased and all was calm and clear, the Patrol Officer radioed the outpost Commander and requested permission to set foot on his outpost. The request was granted and both PBR-139 and 142 started our approach towards the wooden pier at the mouth of the outpost. As soon as we tied up, we were met by the outpost Commander, our friend DAI WI BU or CAPTAIN BU.


We made occassional stops at this outpost before. At times, our stop was for an update briefings of VC's activities in the area. Needless to say, some of our stops was to simply shoot the breeze with Dai Wi Bu and his troops. And, these visits often ended with my FAVORITE "Vietnamese Coffee". That is, coffee with ICE.


As we set foot on the pier, it was obvious and quite EERIE to see LIFELESS BODIES lined up on the pier. Nonchalantly, I asked Dai Wi Bu "Who are these people?" With a puzzled look on his face he looked at me and said "They are VIETCONGS." I fired back "How did you KNOW?" HIS FACE TURNED GRIM and said "They're DEAD, aint they?"


All I could say was a simple "Oh." I didn't DARE to ask anymore after that.


Being RUDE as those words sounded, I can honestly say that THAT was the BEST LESSON I learned on how to DIFFERENTIATE a CIVILIAN from the ENEMY. A BULLET has no name written on it. A firefight isn't TARGET PRACTICE where all the firings are for effect and are towards a stationary target.


When the ENEMY socializes and mix with CIVILIANS, there's just no apparatus that can tell them apart. They're from the SAME FLOCK, AND SHARE THE SAME COLORS.


In these situations, is there ANY ALTERNATIVE left for AMERICAN G.I.'s? My answer is YES, and that is..."If they're in the SAME flock and have the SAME colors, then, they're the SAME BIRDS." THIS is the TRAVESTY of WAR.


In all it's technicalities, the words of Dai Wi Bu connotes the BASIC mechanism of WAR: Killings come first, NEGOTIATIONS come later. How I wish that American fighting men and women can candidly say those VERY words without HESITATION nor FEAR of a backlash...


Inside a body bag, you become merely a NUMBER or STATISTIC which denotes LOSS rather than VICTORY. I never liked this idea at all.


NEXT: The COMICAL side of WAR...

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

The BOND with PBR-139








Before the firefight at the GUIAO HOA canal, my communication with EN2 Roy K. Davis (the Boat Captain of PBR-139) was the casual "Hi", "Good Morning", and "Good Luck" during the briefings prior to our patrols. And besides the radio calls during our patrols, all our communications were BLUNT and STOIC. This didn't bother me because I'm USED to being TAKEN FOR GRANTED. Now that the VC's had givern me my first taste of a firefight, my worries were to STAY ALIVE and keep my crew out of harm's way. "Friendship" was NO LONGER my concern.


The crews of PBR-139 and PBR-142 were given a few days off after our encounter at the Guiao Hoa canal. This was to "cool down" the situation. Chances were, with the AMBUSH turning into an EMBARASSMENT for the Vietcongs, they could retaliate in any way or even in a SUICIDAL attempt to get back at both crews. Command HQ did not want to take this chance. Thank God for that.


Normally, our days off were spent doing necessary maintenance work on our boats, particularly on the ENGINES and GUNS. A WELL-CONDITIONED ENGINE is a PBR's main ASSET, giving us the edge over the Vietcongs and their ambushes. It's for this very reason that the engines were THE MAIN TARGET in any encounter with the enemy. If they manage to put the engine out of commission, it greatly DIMINISHES the speed, thus also GREATLY lessens our chances of getting out of the KILLZONE as fast as possible. Every PBR sailor knew that if their engine goes, they would be a "Turkey Shoot" for the enemy.


In lieu of this, I instructed my crew not to OVER CARRY ammunitions. The HEAVIER the LOAD, the SLOWER the boat. Some Boat Captains tended to think otherwise, and more often than not it was TOO LATE for them to realize this fact.


It was almost 5:00 P.M., and with everyone satisfied, the maintenance check was done. The crew of PBR-139 were no longer in the BOAT POOL, so we decided to call it a day. My crew hopped in the service vehicle and headed back to HQ for a hot meal and some rest. I, however, had my mind set for a nice DINNER at the CU LONG restaurant, and "Roasted Young Pigeon" was the order of the day. This restaurant was also walking distance from the BAR STRIP, so, after an enjoyable dinner, I decided the Vietnamese cuties a visit.


There were several "bars" in the strip. For some reason, there was a BAR at the EDGE of the WATERFRONT that became a favorite hang-out particularly for PBR sailors, while other bars were FULL of RVN soldiers and their U.S. Army counterparts. It was PRUDENT and GOOD PRACTICE not to mingle with that group, ESPECIALLY when drinking the potent "Ba Muy Ba". Any misunderstanding could end up in a confrontation, and considering ALL of us carried a SIDEARM, a gunfight was inevitable. So, I decided "...the Bar at The Waterfront it is."


As I entered the bar, I noticed the crew of PBR-139 at the corner table with already a FEW (33!) empty bottles of the famous "Ba Muy Ba", and each member having a Vietnamese cutie at their side. I was about to order my beer, when I heard: "Hey HUK! Come over here and JOIN us!"
I looked over at the direction where the voice was coming from, and I saw EN2 Roy K. Davis, Boat Captain of PBR-139, waving at me.


This time he stood up and waved at me saying: "Come HERE, Huk! Sit with us!" I REALLY wasn't sure what I was feeling at that instant. I was somewhat OFFENDED by what he called me. "HUK" is an acronym or SLANG term for the PHILIPPINE COMMUNIST GUERILLAS. But I thought "What the hell..." He (Davis) most likely had a few beers in him, and I figured that it was the BEER that gave him the urge to invite me over. This wasn't the time for an EGO TRIP, but rather to relax and unwind and have a good time.


As I stood by their table, I could feel the closeness within that crew. EN2 Davis placed his arm on my across my back with his hand on my shoulder and introduced me to the Vietnamese cutie by his side. "Huk, meet Guen. Guen, this is Huk. Huk is my PARTNER!" Everyone around the table LAUGHED upon hearing this, so I asked Davis WHY he called me "Huk".


His reply was: "George...you're no fucking STEWARD. You're a FIGHTER, and I LOVE fighters!" What could I say? I took it as a COMPLIMENT and could only utter "Okay". After a few more Ba Muy Ba's and sea stories, we were all feeling MELLOW and our table was filled with laughter. MORE laughter came when I turned to Davis and said "Davis, you're a fucking REPTILE!" With a puzzled look, his reply was a simple "Why?" And I answered "Well, you chew TOBACCO all day long, and you keep on spitting that SLIMY saliva like a COBRA. So you're no ANIMAL, you're a REPTILE!"


Bursts of laughter came from everyone around the table, and all Davis could say was "GODDAMN YOU, Huk!"


It was getting late in the evening and all of us knew that being DRUNK out of our unit was DANGEROUS. This was WAR, and in addition to that, it was very difficult to distinguish the civilians from the enemy. And being rowdy and out of control and having our guard down would leave us open for a possible ambush. Unlike the other wars, this one had no SPECIFIC BATTLEZONES, with any place having the possibility of being one.


After reminding each other that it was getting late, we paid heed to our own advice and paid our BAR BILLS, kissed our Vietnamese cuties goodbye and started our walk towards our "home-away-from-home", Hotel My Tho, which was only a few blocks away. The light coming from the bars windows and the LAUGHTER and giggles from the GI's, RVN's and their lady friends served as our "background music" on our walk towards home.


"CHICKEN MAAAAAAAAAAANNN! He's everywhere, HE'S EVERYWHERE!!!" This radio program was our "reville" or wake up call every morning.


With a slight HANG-OVER, I woke up my crew to get ready for the morning muster. At ground level, I was surprised to see EN2 Roy K. Davis and his crew, standing at the hotel's gate. I could see the smiles on their faces and heard the words "COME ON, Huk! LET'S HEAD FOR MUSTER!" This never happened before, and hearing these words ignited my spirit with JOY and ASSURANCE that the question of TRUST finally had it's answer. The Guiao Hoa incident had earned me not only FRIENDS, but BROTHERS.


With this, our patrols became more INSPIRED and PRODUCTIVE. Large amounts of CONTRABAND medicines and ammunitions were seized from the enemy. Firefights were a plenty, but through it all, PBR'S 139 and 142 came out with flying colors. The Vietcongs became more aggressive and HOT after out butts. However, the BOND forged between us elevated our FIGHTING SPIRIT and VIGILANCE to a much HIGHER degree. This overcame every trap or ambush, leaving the enemy BEWILDERED and DISGUSTED. Each firefight only STRENGHTENED this bond. I often said to myself "Watch out, VC's! The Huk and the Reptile have BONDED!"

NEXT: How to Identify the Enemy...

Thursday, March 12, 2009

My first FIRE-FIGHT



A warrior on the battlefield without a battle is like a lawyer without a case. It is honest to say that there were some servicemen in Vietnam that preferred to STAY this way, while others were in for the FIGHT. This goes with the saying " Different FOLKS have different STROKES." However, in the type of warfare that I was in, I had no choice.


In my daily exposure in the river, I was sure that word had already spread, and had reached the Vietcongs' ears. And the word was that "there was a new PBR Boat Captain in the river". I was also sure that there were eyes watching every move that I made while making my traffic inspections, as well as how I was handling my boat. Those eyes could have been on the RIVER BOATS that I was inspecting, or at the RIVER BANKS where ambushes often take place. With these intuitions or "gut feelings", I became more vigilant which in turn transformed my way of thinking. It became SIMILAR to that of the ENEMY.


However, in war, sometimes being careful is NEVER ENOUGH. The enemy studies your moves day in and day out. Sooner or later the enemy will see your slightest flaw and when he DOES, pray to God that he MISSES his first shot (usually a B-40 ROCKET), and that you have sufficient firepower to suppress the enemy's fire. Get your boat OUT of the KILL ZONE by any means as FAST as you can. I've accepted this fact of war, however the "sooner or later" part happened quicker than I expected.


It was almost a MONTH since I took command of PBR 142 and I was starting to feel COMFORTABLE with my new position. Inspecting and controlling the river traffics of "sampans", cargo and passenger boats takes a lot of your patrol time. I knew that was one of the Vietcongs' tactic: To DIVERT the PBR's from their mission, as well as to pinpoint your exact location at any time in the river.


I'm DAMN sure that at least one (1) of the passengers on these passenger boats was a VC "sympathizer", and that they relayed messages to the Vietcongs. These were the number of PBR's on patrol, and which of the PBR's were patrolling a certain area.


And MOST IMPORTANT of all - "WHO is the Boat Captain?"


With this information, the VC got all the vital details they needed to set up for an ambush. I found this out 11 OCTOBER 1967.


PBR 142 and PBR 139 were out on patrol on the CU TIEU (the narrow side of the mouth of the MEKONG DELTA), almost 10 miles southeast of the Mytho. The river traffics were busy and the weather was humid with occasional rain. My FLAK JACKET and JOCK STRAP were getting to be irritable. It got wet and dry, causing an ITCHING sensation. However, having the possibility of "SNIPERS" at the river banks, I was reluctant to take them off in order to scratch.


To take my mind off thIS DAMN itching enigma, I started the engine, made a swing to PORT and made a run along the northern banks of CU TIEU. Watching the banks, all our eyes focused towards the GUIAO HOA canal. Through the binoculars, we spotted several unusual persons running on the river bank. "Sampans" (river boats) were going in all directions, with a lot of COMMONTION on the banks. I swung to port towards the middle of the river and put the engine on IDLE, radioed the Patrol Officer onboard PBR 139. Within minutes, PBR 139 was alongside.


LTJG. CRAGG, the Patrol Officer, made the assession and decided to check on the situation. PBR 139 led the way, with PBR 142 at her stern for cover. I sensed TROUBLE as we approached the canal. Something unusual was happening, we could NO LONGER SEE a single soul on the banks, but sampans were STILL frantically scurrying out of the canal. This was DEFINITELY trouble and I radioed PBR 139. LTJG CRAGG acknowledged my call, HOWEVER, CONTINUED to enter the GUIAO Canal.


Seeing this, I ordered my crew to get ready for a FIGHT. My Front Gunner to port, and my After Gunner and Engineman with the .60 Cal to starboard. Both PBR's were within more or less 50 yards inside the canal, when a HOOTCH on my starboard side EXPLODED, followed by gunfire on BOTH sides of the canal. Both PBR's opened fire and gunned the throttle FULL SPEED AHEAD, but going in the WRONG direction. We were going DEEPER inside the canal!


My radio was in full blast and I heard "DON'T LEAVE ME!" I didn't know who this was, nontheless I answered "Keep FIRING! I'm at your back!" This was followed by "TURN AROUND! TURN AROUND! WE'LL FIGHT OUR WAY OUT!!!"


This was a NARROW canal, and to make a 180 degree turn would be DISASTROUS. My months of training TOOK OVER my mind. I put the THROTTLE on IDLE, then FULL ASTERN, turned my wheel to PORT and "goosed" that starboard engine to FULL SPEED AHEAD. Within seconds PBR 142 was facing the way we came in. I'm DEAD SURE that this was the same manuever that EN2 Donald Davis, the Boat Commander of PBR 139, did. NOW were READY to FIGHT our way out of the GUIAO HOA canal. And FIGHT we did!


The VC elements were atill waiting, however in a SURPRISING way: Their shots were AIMLESS. Our's were for the KILL. Our EXIT was a lot easier than our ENTRY. As I cleared the entrance, I looked back and saw PBR 139 riding my wake and doing some HEAVY FIRING. As I reached the middle of the CUA TIEU, and all guns still HOT and READY, I put the engine on idle and waited for PBR 139 to come alongside. This gave us time to make a quick personnel and damge check.


I was almost in TEARS knowing neither boat had any damage. After radioing headquarters for further advice, LTJG Cragg calmly said "Let's head home." That was the BEST sound I'd heard on that day of 11 October 1967.


Back at My Tho, we assessed the situation and this is what we came up with: the commotions at the entrance of the Guiao Hoa canal was done ON PURPOSE to lure PBR's that were on patrol close to the river bank, thereby making them EASY TARGETS for a B-40 rocket shot. However, our actions somewhat puzzled the Vietcong. The PBR's entry to the canal was unusual, and with the sampans scurrying away in different directions contributed to that missed B-40 rocket.


I was sure that that missed shot was meant for PBR-142. Being the "cover boat" , my boat was at the REAR, and taking out my boat first would BLOCK the ENTRANCE to the canal. If that happened, both PBR's would be a "TURKEY SHOOT" for the Vietcongs positioned on both banks of kthe canal. WORST of all, had both PBR's continued to go DEEPER into the canal, ANOTHER ambush squad would MOST DEFINITELY be waiting to deliver the COUP DE GRACE.


We finished our assessment with a few bottles of "Ba Muy Ba", and with our hearts full of joy to see each other unscathed. We were now MORE DETERMINED to inflict heavy damage and unleash HELL towards the enemy. On my way back to "Hotel My Tho" (hotel converted into barracks), I stopped and paused for a while. I looked up at the sky. I didn't say much, but simply uttered "Thanks".


In retrospect, had I decided to STAY idle by the entrance of the GUIAO HOA canal, I wouldn't even be here to tell this story.


Days later, our assessments turned out to be TRUE...it was confirmed by the JACKSTAFF (a military newspaper) with the headline reading: "The Vietcongs SPOILED their OWN ambush!"


NEXT: The Bond with PBR-139

TRUST

TRUST is something a person must EARN, particularly in a WAR ZONE. This is not automatically given because of RANK, GRADE or POSITION. This is not written nor AWARDED by any authority, nor it's beginning and end be predictable.


However, when ignited and built within a man's HEART, it creates an UNBREAKABLE BOND of BROTHERHOOD amongst men. This bond, in the midst of battle, transforms into a FIGHTING SPIRIT so STRONG, that it can DEFY all ODDS. It becomes as powerful as THUNDER and as deadly as BOLTS of LIGHTNING that can only mean destruction and death to the enemy.


In my line of work, unquestionably, I've already earned the trust of the United States Navy. I've navigated almost the ENTIRE Pacific and Antarctic Oceans. I've advanced to pay grade E-6 (Qm') within five (5) years of enlistment without any benefits of QUARTERMASTER and NAVIGATION schools. I am a believer in learning the HARD WAY, and now, in Vietnam, again I can see that it is the only way. Furthermore, placing my past experiences into the equation, I am more convinced that fate will be the determining factor. I am in WAR, and the MEKONG RIVER and it's tributaries will be my battlefield. In these rivers, if time permits, the question of TRUST will soon have it's answer...


NEXT: My First Fire-Fight...

My First Patrol


My first few patrols were merely indoctrinations. I did nothing but observe the actions of the boat captain and crew in regards to the RIVER TRAFFICS during daytime as well as at night. I made my first contact with the RIVER PEOPLE of South Vietnam, and I found them to be a very COMPLEX but INTERESTING people. Besides these observations and the inhospitable weather caused by the monsoon rains, I truly didn't learn much.


At the same time, I could feel the boat captain's DISDAIN, in making these extra patrols. I couldn't really blame him for having this attitude. Enduring these long and risky patrols, in these abominable weather conditions for a year would INEVITABLY take it's TOLL on the human body as well as the SOUL. I can no longer recall the boat captain's name, nontheless, I admired him for keeping his senses INTACT. In lieu of this, after all these day and night patrols, I told Lt. Fuscaldo that I was READY and TOOK COMMAND of PBR 142.


Each patrol is composed of two (2) PBR's. Each boat has four (4) CREW MEMBERS. These are:


BOAT CAPTAIN


GUNNERS MATE


ENGINEMAN


SEAMAN


A PATROL OFFICER (O-2, E-6 or E-7) rides in one of these gunboats and DESIGNATES which is the COVER or LEAD boat. Briefings are done before each patrol, and these are given by either the CO (Commanding Officer) or members of his staff. These briefings include intelligence and information reports in regards to the enemy's (VIETCONGS) movements or activities in the PBR's "patrol zones".


"CALL SIGNS" are designated and "KRYPTO" codes are issued to the Boat Captains. These call signs and codes are vitally important PARTICULARLY on NIGHT PATROLS. The "color codes" at night differentiates the "FRIENDLY from the FOE". Fatal consequences are inevitable, if by any chance, a unit of any friendly force ACCIDENTALLY enter a PBR patrol zone with the WRONG combination of COLOR CODE lights on a dark night.


To be a new member of the crew is quite like a PUZZLE. Although I am the Boat Captain, finding the spot to fit in takes a lot of trial and tact. Unlike my previous sea duties wherein my expertise counts and takes precedence, this new position has nothing to do with it. This time, it calls for the SOUNDNESS of my PHYSICAL and MENTAL capabilities, particularly my wits UNDER FIRE. In lieu of this, I avoided any issue that could lead to an argument, however, in subtle ways, I let them know that I am the one who CALLS THE SHOTS.


I've been through this type of situation over and over again during my previous duties onboard ships. Being a FIL-AM (FILIPINO-AMERICAN) in my particular rating (QUARTERMASTER) often created this enigma. This was due to the fact that most FILIPINOS in the U.S. NAVY are recruited as STEWARDS. Undoubtedly, this was the same perception that my crew had for me.


With this, I knew exactly what they were looking for..."TRUST". Can they TRUST this FIL-AM Boat Captain? They would soon find out...


NEXT: TRUST...

Saturday, March 7, 2009

September 6, 1967


It was a very muggy and humid day when I stepped down from a military transport plane at TAN SON NHUT AIRPORT in Saigon, South Vietnam. It was Sept. 3, 1967, and the rainy season was at it it's peak.


Brown puddles of water covered most of the streets and mud was all over my well-shined combat boots. Our group was taken to the TRANSIENT BARRACKS, the berthing accommodations are bare essentials and the meals are nothing to look forward to. I already started to miss the berthing and meals onboard my old ships.


Our American dollars were substituted with MILITARY PAYMENT CERTIFICATES (MPC) which I called "Mickey Mouse" money. The following day, our group was taken to the U.S. Army Headquarters for briefing and to update our personal records, PARTICULARLY our emergency or NEXT OF KIN records. This, at first hand, gave me an idea of what I was in for. This was no longer an IDEA of BEING in war, this was now a REALITY of war.


Each one of us were given our assigned RIVER SECTION for duty. I was assigned to RIVER SECTION 532, homebased at Mytho, South Vietnam. There were no scheduled or military transport going to Mytho, so I had to wait for a convoy from Mytho to arrive in Saigon, and ride this convoy back to Mytho. With this break, I had a chance to look around Saigon, PARTICULARLY the BARS, CLUBS, and the pretty Vietnamese girls in their "audai". This didn't last long, because the following morning I was called to the TRANSIENT OFFICE, and was given my orders to ride with a convoy going to Mytho.


An M-14 rifle was issued to me, and as I held it, all my doubts about being in war were erased. It was a long and tense ride to Mytho. Sitting EXPOSED on top of an OPEN 6 x 6 truck with military cargo is NOT in any way a COMFORTABLE ride. An enemy AMBUSH was imminent at any time. I was truly doing some HEAVY PRAYING as well as calling all the guardian angels and saints I knew to give me a safe passage to Mytho. And it did. After numerous check points, our convoy FINALLY arrived in Mytho safely in the late afternoon of SEPT. 6, 1967. I submitted my orders to the office of River Section 532, and thus began my venture in VIETNAM.


In the office, I was met by LT. FUSCALDO, Commanding Officer of River Section 532. I was given a briefing about our "patrol areas" and the DO's and DONT's of RIVER WARFARE. I really didn't give too much concern about all of these. My mind was focused on only one thing: to RIDE and FEEL my BOAT, PBR (Patrol Boat, River) 142.


The boat was out on patrol at that time, so I had to wait until the following day to meet the boat captain that I will relieve, as well as the crew that will be under my command. The long convoy ride took it's toll on me and as soon as I laid on my back I was asleep. It was the ROOSTER's crowing that woke me up the following morning. I dressed up and walked to the office for the morning briefing. I was introduced to the crew of PBR-142, and soon after we were on our way to the BOAT POOL where the PBR's are berthed.


As I stepped onto the deck of PBR-142, a feeling of warmth ignited within me. It was not FEAR nor JOY, but rather of PRIDE, because I knew that I was now fighting for my country.

NEXT: My First Patrol...

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

The River Rats of Vietnam: THE BRAVEST MEN IN THE WORLD

This is a tribute to the SPECIAL BREED of sailors that served in the United States Navy in her participation in the Vietam War. These are the men of the Brown Water Navy, The RIVER RATS OF VIETNAM.


Unquestionably, the United State Navy's role in all major wars were done in the high seas. However, this role was somewhat changed during the VIETNAM WAR. Instead of the high seas, all the naval battles were in the murky and brown waters of the MEKONG DELTA.


In these brown waters were spilled the blood, sweat and tears of these sailors who, up to this present time, remains un-noticed and un-recognized. The exploits of these sailors never hugged the limelight nor made any headlines in any major news nor newscast.


The ARMY, MARINES and AIRFORCE went into patrols with newscasters in tow and any incident that happened made instant headlines around the world, particularly in the United States. But NONE of those newscasters DARED to go out on patrol with us "River Rats" because there was NO GUARANTEE of safety or amenities in our missions except danger and arduos conditions.


Our patrols were in the enemy's "COMFORT ZONES" which made them very UNCOMFORTABLE , and needless to say us River Rats lived on a "day-to-day" basis due to our being labeled as "Enemy Number One" of the Vietcong. Every time we went on patrol aboard our gunboats (PBR's), there was no guarantee any of us would make it back because we were all MARKED FOR DEATH. I recall General Abrams giving the PBR's the nickname "Floating Coffins".


So you see, the only reason the world knows of our exploits is from the stories, photos and memories of the brave sailors who have fortunately lived through this experience.


I am VERY PROUD to say that I am one of this special breed of sailors. I am GEORGE H. TRONO, QmC USN (Retired) and I am the Boat Commander of PBR 142, one of the units of River Division 532. I am writing on this blog to pay tribute to my fellow comrades GmG3 LUCKET, ENFN FEDE, EN3 BLAIS and others whose names I've already forgotten, but whose memories stay forever in my heart.


To my very special and best friend and Boat Commander of my cover boat, PBR 139, EN2 ROY K. DAVIS, my special Gunner GmG2 DAVID MESHAKO, my engineman LARRY LAFONTAINE and GMSNG GERKEN with whom I shared so many gun battles during the TET OFFENSIVES of 1968 and 1969. And to all the Brown Water sailors or the "River Rats", to whom all the stories that I can still recall, this is a tribute to you all.

A tribute to my father, George Herman Trono, QMC/USN Retired


This blog is a tribute to my father, GEORGE HERMAN TRONO QMC/USN Retired. He served in the United States Navy for 25 years. Growing up, he told me lots of stories of his adventures, and some of the his best stories are from when he served in the Vietnam War from 1967-1969. Despite the circumstances at that time, from the way he told those stories those were clearly some of the best times of his life. Everything you will read succeeding this post are accounts of events in HIS OWN WORDS.


This blog's for you, Dad. You're my HERO, and I love you.