The following is an excerpt from an article in this month's Marine Corps Gazette. It is the recollection of a Marine infantry platoon leader who, because of casualties, became the company commander during this "melee".
This is the "lead-in to the main article:
"Imagine yourself as an infantry battalion commander with less than 700 Marines going toe to toe against a battle-hardened enemy division of over 7,000. Fair odds-- right? But what if you got no reinforcements? What then? Fasten your seat belts as the battalion commander takes us on a wild ride near the Cua Viet River in early 1968..."
It is the account of LtCol Vic Taylor, USMC (Ret) and is copyrighted by the Marine Corps Gazette. The article deals with the battle of Dai Do in Vietnam in the spring of 1968 (I was in country at that time, but with a different battalion, in a different area (Hue and north).
The following is an "additive" to the main article, the account given by one of the platoon leaders.
"... a little before noon on 2 May, Company H stepped out of the clump of woods that was our attack position and moved to assault Dinh To. There were about 75 of us by then. Two days earlier, we had lost our wounded company commander, along with our forward observer, most of our staff noncommissioned officers, and a lot of leaders and other Marines.
As we crossed the dry rice fields, our mortars and artillery began working the objective. The NVA fired first -- single shots but accurate-- and our Marines began falling-- including my radio operator. We broke into a run, closing the gap. The enemy protective fires opened up as we got into their intitial defenses. The fortifications were unbelievable, and the NVA soldiers were popping in and out, up and down, shooting from all the holes. Fields of fire overlapped. To get at one bunker, you had to take the fire from another. By teams and pairs the Marines would throw grenades, then flank the bunker, and fire up the trench. It was not our first time out. As usual, the enemy was almost invisible until we got right on top of them. Some broke and ran-- most died in place. We took hits but got the rythm and kept moving. After about an hour, our acting CO ordered the reserve platoon into the line to fill our losses.
We were still moving but losing our frontage when the NVA counterattacked. We had never had one before, and it took a minute to realize what was going on. There were no charging troops at firsst-- just a tremendous surge of incoming rifle, machinegun, and rocket propelled grenade (RPG) fire. All at once we took a dozen casualties up front and were stalled.
Then there were NVA shouting and shooting on our right and left. Our outside squads automatically refused the flanks and returned fire. By that time, most of the M16s were carboned up or had jammed due to the sandy, gritty soil. Our Marines were using AK-47s and other enemy weapons within reach. Ammunition was getting low. There were too many casualties to move. The midday heat was stifling, and our water was gone. We were holding our own but had lost the momentum. Everybody there knew we were in a bad spot, and thing were about to get worse. The NVA had reinforced, regrouped, and they were reaching for our belt. We braced for another attack.
I heard somebody yell, "Echo!". I looked around and saw the Echo company commander and 20 or 30 Marines coming toward us through the smoke. I could have kissed them. Our CO was hit then and went down. He yelled to me, "You got it!".
The Marines of Companies E and H mixed together, miserable and mad at everything. They literally jumped into another assault. We rolled over the NVA in front and shot, blasted, and stabbed for another 100 yards.
When the second counterattack came it sounded like the NVA were using every weapon they had. Incoming ground fire shredded vegetation from knee-high on up. Leaves, twigs, and branches were falling all around. Masonry walls disintegrated. RPGs came in volleys. Enemy grenades and ours passed each other in the air. Rockets, artillery rounds, mortar rounds-- somebody's -- were landing in front and in back of us. A section of NVA heavy machineguns out in the field to our right poured grazing 12.7mm fire into our flank.
The NVA riflemen came right behind their supporting fires. This time they were easy to see-- trotting shapes, shooting on the move. I remember leafy camouflage, brown faces, and spike bayonets. They were to our front, left and somehow in the rear. They were everywhere.
At that point there were probably about 60 of us left from both companies. Command became irrelevant. We were all in the fight, and the outcome was in the hands of individual Marines-- Marines like PFC Tony Scafiti-- standing in the open, M60 machinegun braced on his hop, mowing down a column of NVA-- tracer light-sticks going through two at a time. Or 2dLt Gregory Boyle-- just 2 weeks in country-- upright among his men, pointing out targets with a walking stick. Or Corporals Ruiz and Rank-- my radio operators-- sending situation reports cool as ice-- handset in one hand, .45 caliber pistol in the other. Or another Marine-- no weapon-- deliberately pitching grenades like he was back home playing ball.
On his own initiative, our sniper, LCpl O'Neill, and his assistant, PFC Griese, crawled out into the open field to our right and found the murderous NVA machineguns. O'Neill killed 24 gunners and assistant gunners--one after the other.
Ironically, in the middle of all this, the regimental commander's voice came over a squawky radio speaker on the battalion tactical net. He was needlessly advising the battalion commander to be aggressive. There were curses and jeers from troops within earshot. The battalion commander yelled back, "Six-- I've got two companies in the attack now, and they're killing all these little bastards they can!" (Cheers from the Marines.) That was exactly what we were doing!
At the moment the 2/4 Marines and the 320th NVA Division were toe to toe. Ranges were between 60 feet and grappling distance. Our Marines stood their ground and never gave an inch. I saw one of them club an NVA infantryman to the ground, snatch his AK-47, then kill that soldier and two more with the seized weapon.
The enemy had the odds in numbers and guns, but they gave way first. Their counterattack melted. Any NVA who didn't withdraw died there. We regrouped, relocated, dug in, and waited. The battalion commander led Companies F and G through and continued the attack. That night of 2 May, Company H's line were thin. Half of our weapons were NVA, and almost every Marine was wearing a bandage or battle dressing. We looked like a beat up bunch, and nobody knew if it was over or who had won. But we stood on NVA positions, stepping over their dead bodies. We were there, and they were not. That was good enough for us."
Please take special note that I have tried to type this accurately from the April 2004 issue of the Marine Corps Gazette -- Since 1916 the Professional Journal of U.S. Marines. The article is copyrighted but can probably be read online at www.mca-marines.org. Semper Fi