PART VII

THE TURNING POINT

While the supporting arms continued to whittle away at the enemy's

strength, the defensive posture of the 26th Marines grew more

formidable with each passing day. By the end of February, the

Americans and South Vietnamese had erected some 510 bunkers, dug

miles of trenchline, and laid hundreds of minefields and trip flares.

Each sector was guarded by a maze of double-apron, tanglefoot, and

concertina barbed wire obstacles.[60] The Marines also had sophisticated

anti-infiltration equipment such as the Night Observation Device, the

PPS-6 ground-surveillance radar, and the Starlight Scope; all of which

could detect infiltrators along the wire during night-time and other

periods of reduced visibility.(165) Wherever these apparatus were

employed, the number of enemy killed along the perimeters increased and

the number of probes decreased.

In addition to the standard issue, the men improvised many of their

own jerry-rigged gadgets. Drawing from his childhood experiences on

the farm, Colonel Lownds devised a type of electric fence which was

employed along some of the company fronts in the main perimeter. The

plan was simple; the Marines figured out which strands of barbed wire

the enemy would more than likely cut to penetrate those obstacles and

they attached trip wire in a circuit. Flashlight batteries were the

power source and the network of wires tied into a central switchboard

located in each company CP. When a North Vietnamese soldier clipped

the barbed wire, he short-circuited the system and one of the warning

lights on at the switchboard went out. A few grenades in the right

place or a broadside from a Claymore mine and the snooper usually

became another grim statistic.

On the hill outposts, the =fougasse= was used extensively. The Marines

dug holes along the slopes which faced the enemy and embedded barrels

or cans of mixed gasoline and diesel fuel. The detonator for this

volatile concoction was usually a grenade, a blasting cap, or a pound

of C-4 plastic explosive taped to the container. The triggering device

was a wire leading back up the hill to the Marine positions. When

attacked, the defender simply jerked the wire and detonated the lethal

munitions.(166)

The Scout Sniper Platoon attached to the 26th Marines provided

another kind of deterrent. At least one team of these hand-picked,

specially-trained sharpshooters was assigned to each company. Using

commercial, bolt-action rifles with high-powered scopes, the snipers

preyed on individual NVA soldiers who carelessly exposed themselves

around the fringes of the perimeter. Patience was a must in this

business and the marksmen often waited for days until their quarry

appeared. When the snipers finally got a chance to practice their

deadly art, the results were almost unbelievable. As though they

were firing for record on a rifle range, they calculated the wind,

adjusted their slings, took steady positions, and slowly squeezed

off their shots. Many North Vietnamese who felt safe beyond 1,000

meters of the Marine positions never received a chance to ponder their

mistake. The psychological impact was also a factor. One can imagine

the eerie feeling experienced by an NVA soldier who had just seen a

comrade "zapped" and never heard the report of the rifle that did the

trick.(167)

[Illustration: Sniper attached to Company E, 2/26 on Hill 861A waits

for a target. (Photo courtesy David D. Duncan)]

[Illustration: Men of 1/26 lay wire along Blue Sector. Dong Tri

Mountain is in the background. (Photo courtesy David D. Duncan)]

By no stretch of the imagination did the 26th Marines have a monopoly

on good snipers. The NVA marksmen, armed with rifles and scopes which

were comparable to those of their American counterparts, lurked

around the edges of the perimeters--especially the hill outposts--and

waited for a target. Although none of this deadly business could be

categorized as humorous, there was one sniper incident on Hill 881S

which could not help but evoke a chuckle. The men of Company I had

been cursed with the presence of a particularly accurate sniper who

was located in the brush to the south of their perimeter. The rifleman

scored frequently and had wounded 10 Marines in the period of about a

week, all of whom were medevaced. In addition to being a hazard, the

sniper was also a general nuisance. A man moving from one place to

another within the perimeter was always hurried on his way by slugs

which kicked up dirt at his heels or buzzed past his head like angry

hornets. Thus, the Marines were constantly waiting for the culprit to

expose himself and one day a glint off the telescopic sight proved

to be his undoing. The Marines marked his position and, on Captain

Dabney's order, lugged a 106mm recoilless rifle from the northern

side of the hill, sighted in, and blew the sniper away--tree and all.

The victory was short lived because his successor proved equally as

effective. More Marines were hit. The second rifleman lasted about as

long as the first before he suffered the same fate at the hands of the

106mm gunners.

His replacement, however, was a complete wash-out. Expending between 20

and 30 rounds a day, the misfit flailed away for over a week without

hitting anyone. In the process, he too gave himself away. After the

Marines had manhandled the 106 into position for the third time, and

were sighting in, one private, after deep thought, approached the

company commander with a proposition: "Skipper, if we get him, they'll

just replace him with someone who might be able to shoot. He hasn't hit

anyone so why not leave him there until he does." It was so ordered.

The sniper's ineptitude had saved his life and he blasted away for the

rest of the battle and never touched a soul.[61](168)

The incident with the snipers pointed out the advantage of having 106mm

recoilless rifles on the hills. Unlike the artillery pieces at Khe

Sanh, the 106mms were used in a direct fire role and because of their

extremely flat trajectory, they could be employed when attack aircraft

were in the target area. Another feature which endeared these weapons

to the Marines was their extraordinary accuracy. The recoilless rifles

were used with great finesse, especially against the well-camouflaged

enemy gun positions which ringed the outposts. In most cases, it

required minute adjustments to put a round squarely on target and knock

out these emplacements. This was evident in one instance when a 106mm

on 881S was used to silence an NVA 12.7mm machine gun which had been

spraying Marine helicopters.

The automatic weapon was situated inside the mouth of a small tunnel

which had been cut deep into the side of a hill located north of the

Company I, 3/26, perimeter. The tiny aperture, which faced south,

restricted the gunner's fields of fire but that was no drawback because

he only concentrated on the resupply choppers as they hovered over

the Marine positions. On the other hand, the small opening prevented

the gun from being knocked out by anything except a direct hit from

the front. Once the men on 881S had pinpointed the heavily camouflaged

site, they went to work with their 106mm. Out of necessity, their

firing routine was erratic; the gunners cranked off a round, dived for

cover when enemy mortars responded, jumped up, adjusted the weapon, and

fired again. While spotters guided them with such unorthodox jargon as

"Right a tad," or "Up a hair," the gunners repeated the process and

slowly closed in on the enemy position. Finally, one glowing round

disappeared completely into the side of the hill and a split second

later there was a muffled explosion from deep within. Smoke belched

out the mouth of the tunnel and the NVA machine gun was no more. This

performance was repeated several times during the battle with the same

results.(169)

The three 105mm howitzers on 881S were also used extensively in

the direct fire role and were especially useful against targets of

opportunity. The ever-present fog around the hill reduced the number

of such targets but on one occasion a momentary break in the weather

yielded an extremely lucrative prize. When the fog suddenly lifted,

an alert Company I machine gunner spotted a 20-man column of North

Vietnamese slowly climbing Hill 758 which was due south of 881S. They

were carrying what appeared to be several mortar tubes. The Marine

immediately opened fire and even though the range was 1,200 meters he

managed to hit several of the enemy soldiers. Instead of scattering,

the remaining NVA troopers clustered around their fallen comrades and

this proved to be a fatal error. The C/1/13 gunners attached to Company

I sprang to the 105mm howitzer on the south side of the hill, quickly

knocked aside the parapet, and depressed the tube for a downhill shot.

Using a combination of point detonating and VT fuzes which were set to

explode 50 feet above the ground, the gunners slammed a dozen rounds

of direct fire into the midst of the tightly packed enemy soldiers.

By the time the fog closed in again, there was no sign of life on the

opposite slope. The action was so brief, that the first report received

at the 3/26 CP was a laconic message from Captain Dabney that 20 North

Vietnamese had been sighted, engaged, and killed.

There were also innovations inside the compound. Ever since 21 January,

the NVA gunners had concentrated their fire on the base ammunition

dumps. Originally there were two large caches but the main one was

totally destroyed on the opening day of the battle. After that,

Colonel Lownds decentralized his stores in several widely-scattered

berms which were large, 12-foot-deep trenches, gouged out of the

ground by bulldozers. One end of the berm was sloping so that 2-1/2

ton trucks could be driven down a corridor between two flanking stacks

of ammunition which lined the sides of the trench. This arrangement

greatly facilitated loading because the Marines could stand on top of

the stacks and pass rounds onto the bed of the truck which was at their

level. The driver then backed out of the berm and took the ammunition

to the distribution points of the various units. The ammunition was not

only dispersed, it was also segregated according to type. This way,

if a berm of artillery high-explosive shells was hit, fire fighters

were not hampered by tear gas or white phosphorous fumes. On three

occasions, ammunition stores were hit but the resulting devastation

never reached the proportion of that on the 21st.(170)

Although the berms were prime targets, the ASRT, MATCU, FDC, 26th

Marines communications center, and other units which depended on

sophisticated and delicate equipment suffered from the heavy shelling.

Consequently, they all had one common problem--maintenance. The normal

difficulties associated with keeping the various radars, radios,

antennae, generators, and cooling components in an "up" status were

complicated by the constant incoming, the dust, and the limited supply

of replacement items. The vans and bunkers were heavily sandbagged

but antennae and some communication lines were exposed and frequently

knocked out by enemy rounds.[62](171) The speed with which the vital

installations were returned to operation served as a tribute to the

technicians who maintained the equipment under the most adverse

conditions imaginable. In one instance, a 122mm rocket exploded a scant

seven meters from the ASRT-B van and sheared off most of the radio

antennae. Thanks to several trouble shooters who braved the intense

barrage and repaired the damage, the station was back on the air within

20 minutes.[63] Such performances were routine. The ASRT normally

operated 23 hours a day and shut down one hour for maintenance.

The MATCU, which was essential for ground-controlled approaches and

paradrops, was kept operable 95 percent of the time.(172)

Major John A. Shepherd, Communications Officer of the 26th Marines, was

responsible for the vast network which enabled the ground commanders to

keep abreast of the situation and in touch with their units. The major

praised the accomplishments of his men, stating that they "provided

support in winning every battle, firing every round of artillery,

controlling every air strike, and providing the means to receive every

bean and bullet." There were six radio relay teams which kept open 52

channels between Khe Sanh and the outside world. In addition, there

were five external teletype nets in operation 24-hours a day. Radio

relay provided voice and teletype links to agencies at Dong Ha and Da

Nang. For classified information, there were two secure voice circuits

operating full time. One net linked the Combat Operations Center of the

26th Marines to that of the 3d Marine Division at Dong Ha. The other,

the Regimental Tactical Net, enabled Colonel Lownds to disseminate hot

information to his battalion commanders.

To protect it against the artillery, mortar, and rocket attacks,

all communication equipment was either underground or heavily

sandbagged. Major Shepherd moved his communications center into a

shelter which was made from 4 conex boxes, 16 feet underground.[64]

This nerve center housed the teletype equipment and switchboards

which provided service for 65 on-base subscribers and 40 external

radio relay voice circuits. In spite of the protective measures, the

antenna and internal wire system sustained damage on a daily basis.

Following every barrage, wiremen tracked down cuts and spliced them

and repaired damaged antennae so that the various nets were back in

operation within minutes. The maintenance and repair of the electronic

devices used for perimeter security placed an additional burden on the

communicators.(173)

While trucks and forklifts were not exactly delicate equipment, the

base motor transport personnel had their share of problems. These

vehicles were used constantly. During the summer and fall of 1967,

they were used to haul rock for the repair of the runway. Throughout

the siege, the drivers carried ammunition from the berms to the

distribution points and supplies from the drop zone to the combat

base. Many of the trucks were in bad shape and mechanics worked around

the clock to keep them rolling. The biggest headache was caused by

flat tires, of which the constant shelling produced an abundance; the

drivers became paste and patch experts of the highest order. More often

than not, these men were caught out in the open when the enemy decided

to pound the base. Since their cargo usually contained high explosives,

the drivers had good reason to be apprehensive. Some simply bailed out

of the cabs during the attacks and dived for cover; others, performing

a wild imitation of the Grand Prix, raced for revetments. Needless

to say, the base speed limit of five miles per hour was frequently

violated.(174)

When there wasn't any work to do, many Marines created some and the

threat of enemy tunnels provided a powerful motivation. When the word

spread that the enemy might try to dig under the base, the tunnel

ferrets went to work. Many of the defenders became fascinated with the

prospects of uncovering a "mole" and their antics were near comical. It

was not uncommon to see a man crawling around in front of his position,

patting the ground with the flat side of a shovel, and listening for

hollow spots. Others drove metal stakes into the ground and listened

with stethoscopes by the hour for tell-tale signs of digging. If they

heard something, the next step was to dig a large hole in front of the

enemy so that he would tunnel himself into a trap. Some self-appointed

water witches walked around with divining rods and waited for the

downward tug which meant that they had discovered a subterranean

intruder. When the news media got into the act and publicized the

possibility of tunnels, the regimental commander began receiving scores

of letters from around the world with "If I were you" themes. One

American planter who lived in Sao Paulo, Brazil, wrote and suggested

that the Marines purchase commercial sensors like the ones he used to

detect bugs which fed on the roots of his trees. Another suggested that

the defenders strap hand grenades onto rats and turn them loose in the

tunnels.(175)

Unknown to the Marines at the time, the enemy never tried to tunnel

under the base. The KSCB sat atop a plateau, and the slopes were

wrinkled with deep ravines. Colonel Lownds later surmised that the

enemy would have had to go so deep to keep from breaking the surface

that such excavations were impractical. The men of Company K, 3/26 did,

however, discover one tunnel leading toward Hill 861 and called in air

strikes against it; at the base itself, the North Vietnamese limited

their digging to trenches.(176)

Unlike the phantom tunnels, the trenches were very real and served as

a constant reminder of the enemy's intentions. These networks were

quite understandably a source of concern to the defenders who watched

with fascination and no small apprehension as the trenchlines drew

closer and closer each day. Working at night or under the cover of

fog, the North Vietnamese often moved their lines forward as much as

200-300 meters at a time. There were several methods used to counter

the trenches with artillery and tactical air strikes being the most

prevalent. Lieutenant Colonel Hennelly's batteries provided constant

fires during the night especially to the east and southeast where the

heaviest enemy siegeworks were concentrated. The VT-fuzed ammunition

with its deadly airbursts no doubt hampered the enemy efforts

considerably. During the day, attack aircraft hit the trenches with

every type of aerial ordnance from 20mm cannon fire to 2,000-pound

bombs. At night, TPQs were run to within about 250 meters of the

wire while Mini and Micro Arc Lights were targeted from 500 to 1,500

meters.(177)

In addition, the Marines along the perimeters concocted their own

schemes which added to the displeasure of the enemy. During the day,

Lieutenant Colonel Wilkinson's men registered on the close-in trenches

with their M-79 grenade launchers; these shotgun-like weapons fired a

40mm projectile to a maximum range of about 375 meters and produced a

frag pattern approximately 5 to 10 meters in diameter. At night when

the North Vietnamese were digging, the Marines periodically lobbed

these rounds into the trenches and disrupted the sappers.(178)

In spite of the harassment, the NVA launched several attacks against

the base from the trenchlines during the last 10 days in February.

At 1245, 21 February, the North Vietnamese fired 350 mortar, rocket,

recoilless rifle, and artillery rounds into the eastern sector and

followed up with a company-sized probe against the 37th ARVN Ranger

Battalion. The enemy troops, however, did not attempt to close with the

South Vietnamese and, after a distant fire fight, withdrew at about

1500. Although no body count was ascertained, the Rangers estimated

that 1/13 artillery and their own defensive fires had claimed from 20

to 25 of the enemy. Six Marines from 1/26 and 18 Rangers were wounded

during the encounter.(179)

On 23 February, the base received the worse shellacking of the

siege. In one eight-hour period, the installation was rocked by 1,307

rounds--a total which surpassed the daily high received at Con Thien in

1967. Many of the rounds came from the 130mm and 152mm artillery pieces

in Laos. The runway took several hits but the Seabee and Marine working

parties filled the craters and quickly replaced the damaged strips

of runway matting. At 1600, the barrage touched off a fire at one of

the supply points and 1,620 rounds of 90mm and 106mm ammunition were

destroyed. Cumulative friendly casualties for the day were 10 killed,

21 medevaced, and 30 wounded but returned to duty.(180)

Two days later the Marines suffered one of their most serious setbacks.

On the morning of the 25th, the 1st and 3d Squads, 3d Platoon, B/1/26

departed Grey Sector on a patrol to the south of the base; the patrol

leader was a second lieutenant. The two squads were reinforced by an

81mm mortar FO, an S-2 representative, a Kit Carson Scout, one rocket

team, and a machine gun section (two guns).[65] Each man carried 500

rounds of ammunition and six grenades; each machine gun team had 1,800

rounds. Their mission was to sweep to the south along a well-defined

route and attempt to locate an enemy mortar which had been harassing

the Marines. The patrol leader was assigned three checkpoints from

which he was to radio his position and progress to the company

commander, Captain Pipes. The lieutenant was under strict orders to

follow the planned route and keep within sight of the base as much as

possible.(181)

Around 0900, the two squads reached their first checkpoint; the

lieutenant made the required radio report and the Marines started on

the second leg of their trek. Unknown to Captain Pipes, the patrol had

deviated from course and was actually about 600 meters south of its

scheduled route. Shortly after his first transmission, the lieutenant

spotted three NVA soldiers walking along a road which branched off

Route 9 and ran northwest into the FOB-3 compound. The North Vietnamese

were apparently trying to suck the Americans into a trap--a trick as

old as war itself. In spite of warnings from the Kit Carson Scout,

the young patrol leader took the bait and pursued the three men; the

decision was to cost him his life.(182)

The Marines moved south across the road, chased the North Vietnamese

and ran head-on into an ambush. A heavily reinforced NVA company

was entrenched just south of the road in a crescent-shaped bunker

complex, the tips of which curved to the north. When the trap was

sprung, the patrol was caught squarely in the center and, in essence,

was double-enveloped by stationary positions. At first the Marines

opened up and gained the advantage but the enemy fire gradually built

to an overwhelming crescendo and the patrol became pinned down. When

the lieutenant realized the full implications of his predicament, he

dispatched the 1st Squad to flank the NVA emplacements from the west.

The maneuver might have worked but the squad leader did not hook out

far enough to the west before turning back in on the enemy positions.

Instead of hitting the tender flank, the 1st Squad walked into more

blistering, frontal fire. When the lieutenant was unable to raise

the squad leader on the radio, he sent one of his few unwounded men,

Hospitalman 3d Class Frank V. Calzia, a U. S. Navy corpsman, to find

out what had happened. The corpsman returned later and reported that

every man in the 1st Squad, except one, was dead.(183)

Captain Pipes immediately realized that his men were in trouble

and, upon direction of higher authority, sent the 2d Platoon to the

aid of the patrol. The cunning North Vietnamese anticipated such a

move, however, and positioned a blocking force in the path of the

relief column. The two separated Marine units were engaged in heavy

fighting for about four hours before the remnants of the patrol could

break contact and withdraw through the positions of the 2d Platoon.

Marine tanks rumbled into the southern portion of the compound but

supporting fires were restricted by ground fog and the proximity of

the combatants. As he pulled back, the patrol leader was hit in both

femoral arteries and bled to death before reaching the perimeter.

His radioman, Corporal Rolland R. Ball, a full-blooded Sioux Indian,

carried the lieutenant's body back to the base. Friendly casualties

during the day were 1 killed, 25 missing and presumed dead, 13

medevacs, and 8 wounded but returned to duty; the bodies of the missing

men were all recovered. Enemy losses were undetermined. The action on

the 25th sobered the men of Company B and there was one predominant

thought in their minds. Captain Pipes probably understated the feelings

of his men when he said: "We are anxious to repay the loss." Before the

siege ended, Company B did just that.(184)

The flurry of activity to the east and south of the base led General

Tompkins and Colonel Lownds to believe that the major enemy thrust was

imminent. Recalling the accuracy of the North Vietnamese lieutenant's

previous predictions, they felt sure that the attack would come from

the east. From various other reports, they knew that large NVA units

were massing around a deserted plantation to the south and an old

French fort near the junction of Route 9 and the two roads which tied

in with the KSCB. Although the North Vietnamese had not secured the

hill outposts according to the first phase of their plan, time was

running out. Each day, the skies over Khe Sanh cleared a little more

as one of the enemy's greatest allies, the monsoons, slowly abandoned

him. If American airpower, unhindered by the weather, were ever fully

brought into play, the enemy's task would have been next to impossible.

The NVA launched a heavy attack against the base on 29 February;

whether it was in fact the main prong of the Communist offensive,

historians may never know for sure.(185)

Largely because of the quick response by the FSCC and the overwhelming

firepower at its disposal, the enemy attack never got up a full head

of steam. Early in the evening of 29 February, current intelligence

showed that the enemy was on the move. Each succeeding report indicated

that the North Vietnamese were heading toward the eastern perimeter.

The FSCC sprang into action and called on all assets to saturate the

enemy's route of march. Massed artillery, TPQs, as well as Mini and

Micro Arc Lights were targeted in blocks to the east, southeast, and

south. Flights of B-52s, diverted from other targets, arrived overhead

in two and a half hours and added to the carnage before the enemy

troops had moved completely through the killing zone.(186)

At 2130, a battalion from the =304th NVA Division= launched the first

attack against the 37th ARVN Ranger Battalion. The South Vietnamese

responded with their final protective fires; 1/13 contributed

thousands of conventional and special artillery rounds while strike

aircraft streaked in and raked the attacking force. The enemy pulled

back without even breaching the outer defenses. The first assault

was followed by one at 2330 and another at 0315 (1 March); both were

similarly stifled short of the wire. The North Vietnamese finally

called it quits and withdrew with those bodies which they could

retrieve. When the Rangers investigated the next morning, they found 78

dead NVA soldiers huddled in three successive assault trenches a few

hundred meters from the perimeter. Some were in a kneeling position

as if they had been killed just before going over the top. Many had

been peppered by the artillery airbursts and were covered with small

holes. Crude devices made from bamboo strips and laced with blocks of

TNT lay beside many of the bodies. These were obviously to be used as

bangalore torpedoes but the sappers never had the chance. The slaughter

along the perimeter, however, was nothing compared to the losses

sustained by the NVA reserves.(187)

While the S-2 personnel could never ascertain the exact number of

enemy killed, they felt reasonably certain that an entire NVA regiment

had been virtually wiped out. The eastern approach was saturated with

tons of high explosives; the road junction, the plantation, the old

French Fort, and all bottlenecks along the enemy's route were heavily

hit. Montagnard tribesmen, who inhabit the surrounding hills, later

reported finding from 200 to 500 North Vietnamese bodies at a time

stacked in rows along the trails and roads leading to the base. It was

obvious that they had been caught while on the march and mangled by

air raids and piston-like artillery concentrations. While many of the

defenders at the KSCB never fired a shot, what was believed to be the

long-awaited enemy onslaught came and passed with a whimper instead of

a roar.(188)

Even though the North Vietnamese continued to probe throughout March,

it was obvious that they had shot their bolt on the night of 29

February/1 March. The NVA never mustered another large ground attack

against the base; the battle had reached a turning point. Having had

their fingers burned too often, the North Vietnamese settled into a

wait-and-see strategy. They continued to pound the base with artillery

but exerted no major ground effort; instead they lurked in the hills

and waited for patrols which ventured too far from the perimeter.(189)

The waiting game proved to be just as disastrous for the enemy as had

his previous strategy. The month of March was marked by clear skies

over Khe Sanh and there were only five days during which weather

hampered flight operations. While the overcast had never interfered

with Arc Light strikes or TPQs, the retreat of the monsoons was a

blessing for the attack pilots and fighter/bombers swarmed into the

valley like locusts. The number of close air support sorties in March

almost doubled the amount flown the previous month. Any enemy movement

within the TAOR during the day invariably drew a flight of sleek jets,

prop-driven A-1 Skyraiders, or helicopter gunships within minutes. The

trenches and bunker complexes inside the B-52 line were also worked

over daily to insure that the NVA stayed at arm's length. What's more,

the unrestricted visibility enabled the TAC(A)s and airborne observers

to ferret out and call in artillery on the enemy gun positions which

had been hammering the base. For the most part, 1/13 had been limited

to intelligence-generated concentrations during February, but the

good weather in March provided Lieutenant Colonel Hennelly's men with

something they could sink their teeth into--observed targets. Enemy

gunners no longer enjoyed a reprieve and each round they fired was an

invitation to instant retaliation. With Birddogs or Hueys overhead, the

enemy seldom even fired and this was no small consolation to the men at

the base. The clear skies and accurate supporting fires were a potent

combination and the number of confirmed enemy dead recorded in March

increased approximately 80 percent over February.(190)

The enemy's plight at Khe Sanh was echoed, albeit in veiled terms by

his propaganda broadcasts. The Radio Hanoi, English-speaking announcer,

Hanoi Hanna--the Communist's anemic version of Tokyo Rose--gradually

shifted her theme from, "We will crush Khe Sanh" to "Ho Chi Minh would

be unhappy if we wasted our time on only 6,000 Marines." The Communists

also attempted to sell the line that 20,000 North Vietnamese had "tied

down" the 26th Marines. Such rationale smacked of sour grapes. This

illogical reasoning would be similar to a defeated football coach

saying that he didn't really want to win the game, only keep the other

team "tied down" for an hour or so. At the KSCB itself, there were a

few feeble attempts to sway the defenders. On 10 March, an incoming

mortar round released about 200 propaganda leaflets. The following

day, an NVA loudspeaker blared a message to the 37th ARVN Ranger

Battalion which invited the South Vietnamese to "join their brothers

from the North in driving out the Americans." There were no takers. The

psychological effort was just one more indication that the enemy was

hurting.(191)

About mid-March, the 26th Marines S-2 began noting an exodus of major

NVA units from the Khe Sanh TAOR. Most of these reports came from

mountain tribesmen who provided valuable information on enemy troop

dispositions throughout the siege. The =325C NVA Division Headquarters=

was one of the first to pull out toward Laos, followed by elements of

the =95C= and =101D Regiments= which also relocated to the west. About

the same time, the =304th NVA Division= withdrew several thousand

meters to the southwest. The enemy still retained enough troops

around the base to maintain pressure and thus the shelling and probes

continued.(192)

Closely correlated with the enemy's retrograde movement was another

large influx of refugees into the KSCB. Most were Montagnards who had

inhabited the smaller villages surrounding the base and unfortunately

had become the pawns of war. When the fighting first broke out, the

Allies advised them to evacuate their homes and move overland to Cam

Lo or else they would be exposed to fire from both sides. During

the period 23-28 January, 1,050 Vietnamese and tribesmen with their

families were air evacuated to Da Nang and then on to Quang Tri City.

About the same time, some 1,800 tribesmen completed an overland trek

from Khe Sanh to Cam Lo by way of the the Ba Long Valley. Later an

additional 3,000 or more attempted to reach Cam Lo, but during the

journey, the North Vietnamese intercepted this group and directed them

back into the Khe Sanh area. Presumably, the NVA used the Montagnards

to screen troop movements and confuse American intelligence. The next

surge of refugees into the combat base occurred in early February

following the attack on Lang Vei. On 7 March, the tribesmen again

started to filter into the base. They were screened, interrogated, and

processed for evacuation in the FOB-3 compound. As many as 661 were

airlifted to eastern Quang Tri Province in a single day and the total

for March was 1,432.(193)

Although the enemy had scaled down his forces, the heavy incoming

continued to plague the Marines. On the average, the base received

about 150 rounds a day during March. During the course of a normal

day, the preponderance of fire was from the 82mm mortars but on peak

days the greatest number of rounds was from the heavier artillery.

On 23 March, the KSCB received its heaviest daily saturation of the

month--1,109 rounds. Of these, over 30 percent were from the enemy's

big guns in Laos. In addition to the indirect fire, the Marines took a

sprinkling of recoilless rifle shells; but these weapons were easy to

spot because of their large back blast and thus were vulnerable to air

attack and counterbattery fire.(194)

During March, the defenders, on order of General Cushman, began to push

out from the perimeter. On 8 March, the ARVN Rangers conducted a series

of sweeps east of the runway. The first patrol made no contact but the

next two became heavily engaged with an NVA force of unknown size. The

Rangers attacked and poured into the enemy trenches, got eye-ball to

eye-ball with "their brothers from the North" and killed 26. On the

24th, a patrol from Company A, 1/9, made contact with two NVA platoons

which were dug in approximately 1,500 meters northwest of Lieutenant

Colonel Mitchell's main perimeter. The Marines attacked the enemy

emplacements and in a four-hour battle killed 31 North Vietnamese.

During the fighting, a UH-1E helicopter of VMO-6 was shot down while

supporting the Marines but the crewmen were rescued.[66] Friendly

casualties were five killed, four medevaced, and two with minor wounds.

The largest encounter, however, came on 30 March when Company B, 1/26,

received a chance to settle an old score. The target area was the same

complex, approximately 850 meters south of the perimeter, where the

B/1/26 patrol had been ambushed on 25 February.(195)

The attack had been planned by the battalion commander, Lieutenant

Colonel Frederick J. McEwan (who relieved Lieutenant Colonel Wilkinson

on 1 March) and his operations officer, Major Charles E. Davis III,

with careful attention to every detail. In fact, the 1/26 staff had

been working on this attack for a month. The sweep was also closely

coordinated with the FSCC to ensure that the maximum supporting arms

were available. To support Company B, Lieutenant Colonel Hennelly's

staff worked out a variation of the defensive fire plan with nine

batteries participating. Marine artillery (1/13) formed the primary

box and rolling barrage while the Army 175mms and TPQ-10 controlled

aircraft were responsible for the sides of the secondary box. The

latter fell on the high ground adjacent to the objective which might

influence the battle. The plan called for Captain Pipes to move his

unit into the primary box and follow approximately 75 meters in trace

of the rolling barrage. As the company advanced, the entire cylinder

also advanced. Outside the primary box, the sides of the secondary

would open and close over the terrain like a giant accordion. One

extremely important factor was that the artillery fire would not

necessarily alert the enemy of the impending attack because the same

technique had been used so frequently in that area. The element of

surprise still belonged to the Marines.

At 0800, Captain Pipes' men swept out of a draw and, under the cover of

heavy fog, crossed the access road which ran from the Route 9 junction

to the FOB-3 compound. This jumping off point had been secured by one

platoon during the night. To their front and flanks, waves of exploding

artillery shells churned up the terrain. At the same time, four 106mm

recoilless rifles and six .50 caliber and M-60 machine guns provided

overhead fire; a type of support "which would have warmed the heart of

'Manila John' Basilone."[67] The crescent-shaped defenses, manned by

an NVA battalion, were roughly 100 meters southeast of the road and

extended along a 700 meter front. The enemy troops occupied heavily

fortified bunkers, trenches, and fighting holes. Although the objective

was indeed formidable, Company B was not to be denied that day.(196)

After about 10 minutes of continuous supporting fire, Company B moved

swiftly into final assault positions and Captain Pipes directed the

FSCC to collapse the two artillery boxes. The fire was shifted to

cut off any enemy reinforcements from reaching the battle area and

to suppress NVA artillery and mortars. As if on cue, the dense fog

suddenly lifted; the last thing that many enemy soldiers saw that

morning was two Marine assault platoons with fixed bayonets only a few

yards in front of their positions. The surprise was complete. Pipes'

men poured into the trenches and swarmed over the startled defenders

before they could react. While one element laid down a base of fire

with small arms and machine guns, Marines armed with flame-throwers,

grenades, and satchel charges rushed through the trenches to sear and

blast enemy emplacements. The men of Company B carried out their grisly

work for over three hours and, by noon, the trenchworks had become a

smoking tomb for 115 North Vietnamese.

The only effective resistance during the battle was enemy mortar fire.

Eventually, the NVA placed about 100 rounds on the attacking force. One

of these scored a direct hit on the company CP and killed the radio

man, the artillery FO, and the 81mm mortar FO. The company commander

was also hit. A mortar fragment passed through Captain Pipes' arm and

lodged in the side of his chest about two inches from his heart. Pipes

not only survived, he continued to direct the attack.

With the loss of his two forward observers, the captain had to

handle the coordination of supporting arms by himself. Fortunately,

Lieutenant Colonel McEwan and Major Davis had made allowances for such

a possibility. During the planning phase, they plotted general fire

zones in the objective area and assigned each one a call sign (e.g.

Apples, Oranges, Grapes, etc.) Captain Pipes knew where these zones

were located and whenever he wanted to hit a target he simply told the

FSCC, "Fire Apples" or "Fire Oranges." In short order, the designated

zone was saturated with mortar and artillery rounds. Pipes utilized

this technique throughout the rest of the battle.(197)

Once the Marines had consolidated the objective, they collected their

casualties which included nine dead and returned to the perimeter.

As Company B retired, the primary and secondary boxes closed back

in around the Marines and walked them home. During the battle, the

raiding force was shielded by some 2,600 artillery shells and 1,000

mortar rounds. On the return trip, NVA artillery tracked the column;

ironically, one casualty during the withdrawal was an NVA prisoner who

was killed by his own fire. Lieutenant Colonel McEwan later described

the operation as a "classic raid." He attributed the success to the

detailed planning, the coordination with the FSCC, and Captain Pipes'

precise execution which "adhered to the tactical fundamentals and

principles of war."[68] For his part, the captain was later awarded

the Silver Star and the entire company received a warm congratulatory

message from General Westmoreland. The debt had been paid in full.(198)

This purge to the south of the base marked the last significant

encounter of SCOTLAND and, at 0800 on 31 March, the operation was

officially terminated. The operational control of the 26th Marines was

passed to the U. S. Army 1st Air Cavalry Division (1st ACD), commanded

by Major General John J. Tolson, III, and Operation PEGASUS commenced.

The Army division, along with the 1st Marines and the 3d ARVN Airborne

Task Force started the push from Ca Lu to reopen Route 9, relieve the

pressure on the KSCB, and destroy remnants of the NVA units in the

Khe Sanh TAOR. In effect, the siege was over. Cumulative friendly

casualties for SCOTLAND, which began on 1 November 1967 were 205

friendly KIA, 852 medevaced, and 816 minor wounded. The extent of NVA

losses was never determined and more than likely never will be. The

Marines counted 1,602 enemy bodies along the perimeters but the total

number of North Vietnamese dead was probably between 10,000 and 15,000.

The enemy always carried off his dead when possible and many others

undoubtedly died in the surrounding hills and were not found by anyone.

There was little doubt that the heart of two crack NVA divisions had

been ripped out at Khe Sanh. The full impact of the suffering endured

by the enemy, however, did not become evident until the Marine, Army,

and ARVN troops began mopping up operations around the base.[69](199)

FOOTNOTES:

[48] Marine control of air support within the Khe Sanh TAOR resulted

from negotiations between CG, III MAF and the Seventh Air Force.

General Cushman was delegated authority for Colonel Lownds to

control, through his FSCC, all supporting fire, including air strikes

within a circle which encompassed the range of the regiment's 155mm

howitzers. During the period 22 January-13 February, operational

difficulties caused ComUSMACV to give Commander, Seventh Air Force full

responsibility for the overall NIAGARA air effort through the ABCCC.

[49] Close air support in Vietnam includes all air attacks that are

coordinated with the supported force. Radar-controlled bombing and B-52

strikes, in this context, can be called close air support but, for

the purposes of this study, the three above mentioned categories will

be considered separately. Although the delivery method is technically

not a criteria, close air support in this text will refer to those

missions where fixed-wing pilots, under the direction of an airborne or

ground controller, visually acquire and attack a target in proximity to

friendly forces.

[50] High and dry meant that all ordnance had been expended. Another

frequently used term was "ammo minus."

[51] Both crews suffered sore backs from the ejection but no other

injury. Lieutenant Colonel Hagaman became the third CO in a row from

VMFA-323 to leave an F-4B via the ejection route. Captain Brandon

returned to action and eventually compiled 400 combat missions--a first

for Marine Radar Intercept Officers.

[52] To catch stunned survivors above ground, the 1/13 batteries

frequently put massed artillery fire into the target area 10 to 15

minutes after the bombers departed.

[53] General Westmoreland gave his constant personal attention to the

targeting of these strikes and while most of the targets were generated

by the 26th Marines Headquarters, General Westmoreland personally

approved the requests. Based on intelligence he also directed or

diverted B-52 raids from Saigon. To keep right on top of this aspect of

the battle, the general slept at night in his Combat Operations Center

during the siege.

[54] The 26th Marines Command Chronology does not list sorties but

strikes which were made up of several aircraft and 430 strikes were

recorded.

[55] The van, as well as crew living quarters, was emplaced underground

and was heavily sandbagged. The sturdiness of the bunker was an

important factor because of the heavy shelling. One enemy round scored

a direct hit on top of the bunker with no damage to the fragile

equipment. The computer van remained operational throughout the siege.

[56] The term "pickled" is slang used by pilots which means to drop

their ordnance.

[57] When a TPQ-10 broke lock, the radar beam strayed from the aircraft

and inputs to the computer were interrupted. The operator also lost

visual contact on the radar screen.

[58] One 105mm howitzer on 881S was also destroyed.

[59] Not every artillery round that left Khe Sanh was high explosive.

During March, Lieutenant Colonel Hennelly's battalion had accumulated

more ammunition than it could safely store. Since the ammo would not

fit in the berms and presented a hazard above ground, the decision was

made to fire it all. This excess included some 90-odd rounds of green

smoke. On 17 March--St. Patrick's Day--the Marines fired all the green

smoke rounds on known enemy positions to honor the patron saint of the

Fighting Irish.

[60] Tanglefoot, as the name implies, is a barbed wire entanglement

that is stretched low to the ground and is usually used between larger

barriers. Concertina comes in rolls which are laid side by side or on

top of each other. Double-apron obstacles are simply barbed wire fences

in depth.

[61] To rub salt into the wound, the Marines devised a red

flag--Maggie's Drawers--like the ones used on rifle ranges to signal

that the shooter had missed the entire target, and waved it every time

the sniper fired.

[62] To keep the North Vietnamese from zeroing in on his communication

bunkers, Colonel Lownds ordered that fake antennae be placed on every

structure at Khe Sanh--including the four-holers.

[63] The ASRT-B radar antennae sustained over 200 hits from shell

fragments but continued to function near maximum efficiency throughout

the siege.

[64] A conex box is a large metal container primarily used to sea-lift

cargo.

[65] Kit Carson Scouts were enemy ralliers who scouted for the Allies.

[66] The pilot was badly burned in the crash and died that night.

[67] Gunnery Sergeant John Basilone was a Medal of Honor winner in

World War II. During an action at Edson's Ridge on Guadalcanal,

Basilone's machine gun section fired over 26,000 rounds in one night

and helped break up a fanatical Japanese attack. Manila John was later

killed on Iwo Jima.

[68] Another interesting point was that the attack was largely carried

out by inexperienced troops. During the siege, Company B suffered

considerable casualties and most of the replacements were fresh from

the States. Major Davis later commented that the conduct of these

Marines during the operation spoke highly of the type of training that

they received before arriving in Vietnam. This ability to adapt quickly

plus the high quality of small unit leadership was, in Davis' opinion,

a key factor in the Marine victory.

[69] The breakdown of fixed-wing tactical sorties under Operation

NIAGARA follows: Marine-7,078, Seventh Air Force-9,684, and U.

S. Navy-5,167. These figures were derived from 1st MAW Command

Chronologies and Project CHECO, Southeast Asia Report. The two sources

do not agree on Marine sorties (Project CHECO credits USMC aircraft

with 6,385); 1st MAW records in this case have been cited. Statistics

for B-52 strikes and Marine helicopter operations have been previously

incorporated in the text.

The Battle for Khe Sanh · 第 7 / 9 章