21 Days In The Bush,
Alone.
by former LLDB Sgt. Cu’Van
Nguyen
with Tony Spletstoser
05-01-96
Tony
O^Ng CO.p: One
day Cu’ Van and I were looking at aerial
photos of the forests in the mountains if Vietnam's central
highlands. He
was telling me about how these had been
the kinds of places that he had jumped into on his recon
missions. To me
they looked vast. I
asked Cu’ if he had ever been lost when had
been dropped in the bush like that. Cu Van said, "No, in our
Special
Forces training we study very hard how to navigate in our
land. You put
me down anywhere in that picture and
I know where I'm at and can find my way out.
But all things are not perfect, I remember one time
when I was like your
Daniel Boone, I never get lost, but for a while I was pretty
confused."
According
to Cu’ Van, that mission should
have been a normal recon into an area of the extreme western
DMZ, near
Laos. Unfortunately
everything went
wrong from the team insertion on.
Cu’
Van: In late 1972 my unit move to new
base. It is not near any town.
It had
been an American Army base for the 101st Airmobile troops,
called "LZ
Sally". It was
about 17 km north of
Hue. At this
camp we are not allowed to
go outside except for missions.
We are
a team of only four men this
time. That
morning we take off for a
recon to a area that we never check out much before. It is all
mountains and heavy forest and we
have been given a two square section of the map to search
out to find what is
going on there. In
my team is my very
best friend, Cuong. We
have been through
a lot together and have been close like brothers since our
training days. We
are looking forward to a easy job and no
problems.
Our
`Slick' (UH-1H) pilots have found a
B-52 bomb crater on the top of a hill near the map
coordinates of our target
area. The
pilots like these bomb craters
because they make good LZs.
This crater
is about 30 meters across, maybe 10 meters deep, and half
filled with
water. Flying
over the top, we can see
nothing out of the way.
The 100 meter
tall trees have been blown away and down the hillside.
(mountain?)
As
usual, on a Special Forces mission like
this, we are accompanied by two Huey gun-ships[1]
armed with rockets and mini-guns, in case anything unusual
comes up.
What
our leaders did not realize, was that
the NVA had figured out that our pilots liked these Bomb
craters for LZ's.
and
this one, because it was
on top of the mountain, was one of the few around that could
have been used for
that. So they
had set a very good ambush
by building a camouflaged watch tower on the bomb crater's
edge. They used
the broken off trees left from the
B-52 bomb for the legs and had covered the roof with the
same clay and mud as
the crater. From
the air it was
invisible, everything look natural.
That is the situation our pilot run into when he
dropped our Slick into
that bombed out clearing.
The pilot had
just rocked the aircraft around setting the left skid on the
inside crater
edge, I jumped off, and my friend Cuong, we sit together,
was about to follow
me, when the NVA gunners hidden in the tower opened fire on
the chopper. I
am on the ground; I hear the AK-47s firing
and the noise from the helicopter get louder as our pilot
immediately pulled
pitch. I looked
up, I could see that
somehow, my friend was still hanging there on the skid with
blood pumping out
of his mouth. I
can't tell you how come
he didn't fall out. You
know, at that
moment, I don't have time to study something like that. Our
Slick is climbing
away and the gun-ships roll in to do a job on the enemy
shooters. (This
is the last time I see my friend.)
I have
to get out of there as fast as I
can. I have to take care of myself and the pilot takes care
of his
business. Because
I am dressed just like
the enemy, if the gun-ships see me, they will shoot at me
too, so I run,
tumble, fall, slide, any way that I can, to get down the
side of the crater and
the hill into the valley to get away from their mini-guns. When I get down
into the trees and bush at
the bottom, I find a good place to hide and stay there. I expect at any
time for the communists to be
out looking for me. Because
they on the
other side of the bomb crater and I know that they see me
already on the
ground. I can
hear the gun-ships up
there tearing the place up for some time even after I find a
place to
hide. Boy! They
really do a job on
them! I never
go back and check because
I'm not sure what else may be there, maybe another
check-point tower on the
hill across? The
way things are for me,
I have no mission now, except to save myself for when my
leaders can find me
and pull me out.
Where I am
at, where I hide, the undergrowth
is heavy and most of the time there is thick fog. I have
good cover and no one
could find me. It
may have been because
the gun-ships did such a good job, that there was nobody up
there left to
report that one of us had gotten off the chopper, but I had
no way of knowing
that. Our training is for us to always take care no matter
where we are and
take nothing for granted.
We have to take
enough chances without giving anything away.
I stay
there two days, never move, I listen
and try to hear what is going on. I have
to try to find out if the communist soldiers are looking for
me or not. I never
hear nothing, but I'll tell you I got one big problem on
there - the fog, it's
wet.
When I
think it is safe, I made my way down
into the valley, following the creek downstream. At least I always
have enough fresh running
water, but also there is even heavier undergrowth. On the
other side of the creek,
the mountain starts going up again. The ground is steep on
both sides.
I
begin moving downstream, using the bush
cover, stopping to listen, and then moving on.
Most of the time there is fog so thick it is like a
mist. For the
next twenty-one days I stay wet from
my feet to the hair on my head. The
going is very hard, ruff (rough).
In the
beginning when I still have food, I
carry my pack and everything. The jungle is thick and the
ground uneven. Rocks
and pits all along the way.
When you wear all that stuff it makes every
move hard to do. If you want walk here in America,
20 miles to the next
town, even if you go through the woods and across the
fields, it only take you
maybe 5 to 7 hours. Where
I'm at, it
will take you a month, if you can make it at all.
As
I move downstream, I have to stop and
listen many times, because most of the time I can't see more
than a few meters
around me.
If I'm
lucky, maybe around 11 to 12 o'clock
noon, the fog thins out sometime, and I can see the sun, but
I still can not
see the sky because of the interwoven branches of the tall
trees that grow
along the valley walls. But the fog is still there. The trees in here
are all old, some up to 100
meters tall. No man ever touch them before, except maybe the
American B-52's
bombs in some places. I
try to stay away
from all them open places and stay undercover.
I
walk like this for 5 or 6 days. I move
slowly, away from that bad place. I
don't go very far and I use my emergency radio to try to
contact my leader, but
he never answer back. I know that they are up there in the
air but I can't hear
the airplane or see it because of the fog and tree branches. (It maybe because
of being in the deep valley
of the mountains, that the UHF radio can't get a signal
out.)
In the
Special Forces, we have a rule if we
are down: the first seven days, they search for us 24 hours
a day. If they
can't find you, they cut in half, 12 hours a day for about a
month. If they
still can't find you, they cut it off; you are lost then for
sure.
After
nine days I run out of food and
water, so I take off my back pack. I hide it, cover it up. I don't need it
anymore, because all that it
is for is to carry food.
I save one
canteen to carry water; I got plenty fresh water in the
creek. The water come
out of the ground in the mountain, it's clear and clean.
I
never have any problem
about water on this mission, except maybe too much water. I keep my survival
vest[2],
survival radio, spare ammo, AK47 rifle and the grenades. I
need to travel as light
as I can, but I never give up my weapons.
After I run
out of food, I get hungry. In
our training we learn about how to live off the land. Usually there are
many things in the jungle
that we can eat to help us to stay alive and in good shape,
but here, it is a
different kind of jungle.
All that I can
find to eat down there is wild bananas.
There are a bunch of banana trees in that jungle. They are kind of
green tasting and have
seeds. I have to be careful and not eat too much at one
time, because they can
make you sick. At
first you have to just
eat a little bit, because the food is strange and your
stomach not used to
it. If you eat
too much, you get a
bellyache.
That's
the way they teach us in survival
school. If your
belly get along with
that, then you eat some more.
I know
that if I eat too much it will make me sick; if that
happens, I'm through! My
stomach get a little uneasy, but I don't
get sick. The
rest of the time to
survive, I eat some bananas and also I find the young banana
tree that grow up
maybe a foot high. I cut the top off, then spread out the
inside the trunk;
it's young and tender like a cabbage. I eat that too; it
taste pretty good. But
you know, when you hungry, everything taste pretty good. So I switch
around. One
time I eat banana, the next time the
inside of the young tree.
I move on
like this. Every day I try to call my leader on the radio,
but I never get a
answer. I never
hear the airplane fly
over either. All
those days I am alone.
Then,the
20th day. That's
my lucky day. I had been laying down
there by the creek under a rock shelf and I heard that noise
the first
time. The sound
of my leader's L-19[3]
Bird Dog is the most beautiful that I ever hear. It's about 10:30,
I pick up the radio and I
call my leader. He answer, "Where you at?" I say, "I'm here,
but I don't think that
you can see me." But
I tell him
that I am almost to the end of that leaf (map) that they had
gave to me. (My
piece of map is four km square, inside of
it I have two km square that I was supposed to search)
I'm
always supposed to stay inside my map
squares, no matter what, even if the communists are chasing
you, you have to
stay in there. I
look at that map and my
compass and I see where I am at. We
never know about maybe another SF team operate in the next
square, and they
don't know who we are and we don't know who they are. It's
hard, but that's the
only way that we can be safe not to have a mixup.
I tell my
leader where I am located, but I
have to tell it in a kind of code. I say, "Open your leaf
(map) and that
corner of the leaf got a spot there, I'm
right the in that spot."
We have to
talk like that using `code' words, anything to confuse the
enemy if they are
listening. I
say something like that,
maybe you don't know, but he know.
Then
he answer me. He say, "Yes, I
see that pretty spot there on the leaf, but really I can't
see you. I'm
very glad to hear you today. I thought
you lost, we almost give up."
I can
understand that easy, too much fog. I never see him either. "Well", I tell
him, "I not
lost, I know exactly where I'm at."
My
leader laugh; next he ask for my Code
name. He say, "As long as I can hear you, give me your code.
I'm ready to
try to get you out any time that we can."
This is like our "password."
Each of us have code word, secret. We promise even if
the NVA ketching
(catching) us, no mater what they do, we never give it up.
If the NVA make you
say something, you tell them wrong. Like if they hold your
wife neck with a
gun, you tell them something, but not the right thing.
I
tell my leader my code name. It's a
number. He say,
"OK, I let you go.
I waiting for you. If there is any news, let me know. Right now it is
too foggy to see where I'm at
and he wants me to tell him if I see the fog conditions
improve.
During
all that time, I never hear or see
any NVA, but we still are being careful.
I had never gone up the hill at all, I am all the
time walking along
down by that creek. I got good cover there but hard to walk. You know how the
trees try to grow besides
the water more than anywhere, so it's thick there. Good cover but
hard to walk. I'm
all wet, my boots are wet. Some times I
can't go any further; I have to just lay down and rest. When I go in
there, almost the next day, I am
wet all over. It's
cold and there's no
sunshine; it's miserable.
But now my
leader has found me and he knows were I'm at and now I know
that all that I
have to do is keep hanging on, hanging on, hanging on and he
will get me
out.
Before
that, I don't know if they are still
looking for me or not looking for me. I
just think about how I'm going to survive in order to get
myself out. It's over
100 km to the sea and many NVA soldiers in between. I know that it's
impossible, but I have to
think about that anyway.
I'd never give
up.
My
leader, he still there flying
overhead. I
think that he is trying to
find a place nearby that he can see the ground.
A
little later, maybe about
12 o'clock noon, I been talking to him, and he say, "Look at
your 9
o'clock maybe a couple of steps, you see that pretty white
marble
there?" (He
means by the compass
to the west 200 meters. Maybe look for a big rock?) Everything around
me is up in almost
every direction. I
tell my leader,
"I don't see it yet, but give me a little time, I'll look
for
it." He
is in the air and he can
see a spot where there is no foggy, but on the ground where
I'm at, I can't see
nothing.
I
say, "Yes Sir, I go there. I try to
get there as soon as I can."
My
leader say, "OK, I'll see you in the morning."
He
have to give me that much time because
he say "a couple of steps", he knows that 200 meters, and
it's going
to take me awhile to get there. Now at
12 o'clock in the day, I know that I will have to move all
that day and most of
the night to get to that place.
I am
still in the thick fog and can see
nothing ahead of me more than two or three meters. I set the map down
and I put the compass on
my spot to get a line on the way that I have to go. Then I head that
way. I don't know what he
see there. Maybe a open place, maybe a B-52 bomb crater. (I
hope so, it's easy
to get me out.)
I
begin to climb the side of the hill in
the direction that he tell me to go. I
walk until about 5 or 6 o'clock. It get dark. It's always
kind of dark in there
even in the daytime, but after 6 o'clock it really get dark,
and it's cold
too. I find me
a place that is almost
dry. I lay down, eat a little bit (them bananas). I set up
my camp one more
time with the string run around for the trip.
This is my last night, I hope. I can't take any
chances now. In
the dark and fog, I can't do any good
looking now for the pick-up place. So I
lay down and try to take a nap.
I wake
up in the morning, still dark, cold.
I try to put my mind to concentrate on hope and keep
walking, moving that
way.
When I start I'm cold and
chilly then walk maybe 15-20 minutes and I'm sweating. From
one thing to the
other. You know
walking in that kind of
country is hard work. I'm
climbing up
the side of the hill to the left.
Pretty
soon it is getting daylight and I
think that can hear my leader's airplane over me. It's about
8 o'clock. I call
my leader, but no answer.
He can't call
me. With that
"Brick" kind of
radio, the man on the ground have to open the channel make
the radio
operate. That
is so the radio don't
squawk, and make noise if someone try to call at a wrong
time, like when VC
close by.
Then
I remember how my officers do most of
the time. They
go to where someone cook,
get a cup of coffee and a bowl of noodles, then to our
operations room to check
out orders, etc. It
don't do any good to
get out here early anyway, too much fog.
After
I walk some more, I check the map and
see that I'm almost there.
When I get to
the point that my leader told me, I see a rock, a big rock
that stick out of
the side of the hill. I
think probably
this is what my leader mean when he say "pretty marble". There are trees
around there too, but this is
big rock. I'm
standing under the rock,
it's maybe 25 feet over me.
Now it is
around 10 o'clock. I call him again, no answer.
Then I
walk a little further in the same
direction, past that rock to see if there is anything else
that he might have
meant. Just in case. Although
really,
when I get to the rock, I think that he going to pick me up
from there. I
walk a little further, but I never see
anything that look any better. Just thick woods and bush.
The
reason that I am wondering, is that I
still can't see the sky, it's so thick foggy.
About 11:30 I call him again, and he answers me this
time. He say,
"Where you at? Did you come to the place, the spot that I
told you
yesterday?" I
say, "Yes Sir,
I'm there." He
say, "You see
that little white thing there?" (He mean that rock right
there.) I said,
"Yes Sir, I met that
"marble", but I didn't know for sure if you meant that
"white marble", so I been looking on a little further." He answer, " No,
that's what I'm
meaning. That little marble there. That's where we will pull
you out, we get
you from there."
I tell
him that I'm going to slide back
down to the rock. I have gotten a little further up the
mountain when I was
searching. Then
my leader ask, "Are
you ready to get out?"
He
laugh. I tell
him, "Yes Sir, I'm
ready to get out, I get back down there quick and be waiting
for you. Then he
ask, "How you doing?. I
say,
"I'm OK I guess? But
you have to
get me a cable to hook up to, I'm wore out." He say, "OK , we
get you a cable. We be
ready when it clears. I
say, "I
appreciate it, and one more thing, I'm very glad to hear
your voice." Then
he say, "I try to get you out any
time if I have a chance. All the Band are ready."
He
means that it is still too foggy but
the "Band", the Slick and the gun-ships are ready as soon as
it opens
up. I ask him,
"Where you
at?" He say,
"I'm on top of
your head but you can't see because it's too foggy."
Things
have changed from yesterday. Then he
could see the rock; today it has closed up.
We have to wait until it opens again. At least he was
lucky yesterday just to be
able to find that rock place without the trees. Today, he
would have never seen
it.
So
we're OK, just have to wait a little
more. Then my
leader say, "OK, just
been around there, don't move, if you have to stay there a
few more days or a
week, it don't matter. We know where you at and that's the
only spot that I can
get you out." I said, "Yes Sir. I be around. I'm going to
watch. Any
time it clear up, I let you know."
Then he said, "Just stay there and turn your radio on
so that I can
call in. I want keep in touch with you every 30 minutes."
I
lay there by that rock. I turn the
`Brick' on and put the radio by the back of my neck so that
anytime it talk, I
can feel the voice from the speaker. I
have to be ready in one second, a very short time when they
ready.
I
stay by the foot of that rock. Maybe
they like for me to get on top of the rock, but I can not
get over that rock,
it is too steep and high and I'm wore out too.
Even if I could get up there, the wind from the
helicopter can blow me
off. So I tell my leader that I will hook up at the bottom
of the rock.
They
have a ring on the end of the cable
that I can hook a (carbiner)[4]"D"
ring to. If
I was in better shape,
they could drop a ladder and I could climb up.
Maybe
about 12:30 the fog open up.
My leader say, "You ready?" I say, "I'm
ready, just give me the
cable." A
few moments later I
hear the vroom-vroom, wrop-wrop of the Slick and the
gun-ships fly over. I
look up and the Slick is there hovering
down and dropping the cable to me. I hook the cable up to a
"D" ring
on the shoulder of my survival vest and they lift me out of
there. Boy, am
I happy! The
Slick pilot lift me clear of the trees
and haul-ass back home. (LZ Sally)
Between
where we have been and back to the
base, there is no safe place to set down to take me on
board. The
chopper flys at almost 100 miles per
hour. That makes me swing out at the end of the cable, full
length, trailing
behind the Slick. I'm hanging like that the whole time back.
I have to hold my
neck down and cover my face with my arms and elbows so that
I am still able to
breathe. Otherwise
the wind blow by too
fast and I never get my breath. When
they slow down to land, I swing back down underneath. I know that I'm
home when I can look up and
see the Slick above me.
If
they find a safe place to set down to
pull me in before that base, we got the minigun-ships flying
beside us ready
for anything. If anything look wrong, they blow it up. It make us feel
good to know that they give
us that kind of protection. But this time there can be no
place, there are NVA
all over.
At
that time, the main thing for me, is to
get out of there, I don't care about anything else. Anything else is
easy.
We
got a small clinic at out
base with nurses (medics). When they let me down, my fellows
on the ground
unhook me and take me there. It hurt me too much to walk.
When I
get there on the table, they take my
boots off and my clothes. I look at my feet. They are all
white, they look like
the meat all dead, skin coming off. The nurses keep me there
for three weeks
before my feet are fit for duty again.
One of
the first thing that I did when I
get back, I ask about my friend Cuong.
They tell me that he didn't make it.
They
get him back to the base
alright, but he dead. They
send him back
to his family and village in the Mekong Delta.
It's too far away, I'm in the service and the war
never stop, so I have
to follow orders and I can never have time to visit his
grave or family.
Later,
after I marry when my first son is
born, I name my son, "Cuong".
The
reason that I remember all of this is
not because I did anything special, it is because I lose my
best friend that
time. My friend been gone a long time now, but even this
day, I still think
about him.
FINI
PS: When
it seemed that all of Cu’ Van’s stories produced only one
survivor, I asked Cu’
tell me about a mission that had been successful and where everyone
on
the Team made it back alive.
He
laughed, and answered, "Oh, there
were many of that kind, but it's hard to remember much about
the `smooth' ones.
It's the `ruff' ones that stick in my mind!" Tony (Con
Cop) Spletstoser
[1]VNAF, Vietnamese Air
Force used the Bell
UH-1D as gun-ships. They were armed with a 7.62 m/m mini
gun on each side, it's
barrels just below and to the rear each pilot's seat. The
mount and ammo boxs
were attached midway of the cargo deck.
Also there was a 7 hole rocket pod on each side,
hung on a system, the
XM-158 serving as an improved M-60 door-gunner's mount
positioning them and
outboard of the mini-gun.
[2]The Vietnamese
survival vest was of local
fabrication. The
Vn's built it into
their `Harris Rig' harness. It had the usual pockets for
AK/M16 mags, first-aid
kits, pencil flares, mirror, wire saw, fishing kit, field
dressings, PRC-90
radio, etc. (All of the things that came with the standard
aviators survival
pack.) As far
as I know it wasn't an issue
item for US forces, although, some of our men may have
copied it.
[3]L-19, 0-1, "Bird
Dog", a single
engined Cessna fixed-wing observation aircraft.
American Spec. Ops. had the luxury of having Army
helicopters available
for support and Team `CnC'.
The
Vietnamese
Special Forces had to make do with the VNAF's
L-19. Which really
worked out quite well, with less
expense.