An end of the war would be good, not bad, for business.

War is, as we would say in business, a low-yield operation.

—Louis B. Lundberg, Chairman, Bank of America

Then hurrah for our brave commanders!

Who led us into the fight.

We’ll do or die in our country’s cause,

And battle for the right.

And when the war is o’er,

And to our home we’re goin’

Just watch your step, with our heads erect,

When our band plays Garry Owen.

—“Garry Owen”

26

Combat Assault

July 14–19, 1970

Despite meticulous planning, combat assaults, once launched, become a dangerous flood of frantic activity, seldom proceeding according to plans. Infantrymen sit on the floor of helicopters with legs hanging out, wind in their faces, noise of rotors whopping in their ears, and accompanying gunships firing into the LZ. On final approach, door gunners on board open fire with machine guns. The small world of an infantryman is transformed into noise, turbulence, and confusion—then swallowed by the ominous silence of the jungle.

Our combat assault was launched from the helipad at Camp Gorvad on July 14, a steamy Southeast Asian afternoon. The company was well rehearsed in loading the helicopters—unlike the Vietnamese soldiers I had led. As we got under way, I was anxious yet confident.

Our operational area was fifteen kilometers south of Camp Gorvad. Defoliated brush had been reforested with young trees about twelve feet high. Heavy underbrush made foot travel off the trails difficult, and the trees had not yet re-formed a canopy for shade.

Our LZ was covered by low brush, secondary growth, over defoliated jungle. An easily discerned trail ran through the zone; it was actually a footpath on an overgrown dirt road. I spotted the trail from the air and could see that it had been heavily used. It was probably a hamlet-to-market trail. From the map, I knew the road followed a distract boundary. Viet Cong forced used heavily trafficked routes to cover their own tracks. The well-used trail became the center of our attention.

As each chopper landed, troopers jumped off and formed a close perimeter around the chopper. As the helicopters flew away, soldiers pushed out to expand the perimeter. I was impressed with how effortlessly they conducted this phase of the operation.

We needed to investigate the trail, but I didn’t want to disturb it by walking on it. I ordered the lead platoon to chop through thick brush as it moved east on a line a hundred meters south of the trail and parallel to it. I knew our movement would be quieter on the road, but another plan was forming.

Thick brush hindered our movement, slowed us, and created unwanted noise as we cut a new trail with machetes. I believed that VC might use the dirt trail during the night. By leaving it undisturbed, we might surprise an unwary enemy. I hoped our thrashing in the brush south of the main trail would create a diversion and allow us to establish an ambush undetected.

I consulted First Sergeant Royas. “Top, I’m thinking about leaving half the company here. They could set up an ambush on the trail at dark. We’ll just keep whacking through this stuff. What do you think?”