Phu Loi Excerpts from Hiroshi's Story
It began on 10 March 1968 when I led a perimeter patrol out of Phu Loi Base Camp's main gate. None of us liked that particular assignment; it was usually a long, hot, boring walk, looking for any sign of recent enemy activity. Typically, one squad made a three-quarter circuit examining the terrain for any changes in appearance. There were two ways to circle the base camp, clockwise or counter-clockwise. Either option made us targets for infrequent sniper fire, and provided plenty of opportunities for well-laid booby-traps and mines to injure someone. Our only variants were a wide sweep, searching for footprints, tunneling, and markers, or a close-in patrol that looked for evidence of tampering with the minefields or the barbed wire entanglements which were a part of the perimeter defense system.
We went wide that morning and chance brought Hiroshi and me closer to our encounter.
I rested on a dike and took out my canteen for a drink when I noticed four short bamboo rods sticking out of the earth nearby. I stood and casually walked over to the spot. When I saw that the ends were freshly-cut, I became suspicious and strolled a few feet further until the bamboo was between me and the perimeter. I squatted and took a rough sighting across the top of the sticks, noting that a bunker was centered between the two rows. These were aiming stakes, and I knew there had to be more.
By the time I completed my circuit I found nine more sets of markers and recorded the locations in my mind. Then, I shouted for the men to move out and continue the patrol. There were two more sets of aiming stakes near our route that morning, but nothing else for the next eight thousand yards.
I didn’t give the perimeter patrol much thought until 2230 hours when I was awakened by the distant sound of enemy mortars firing rounds at the base camp. Before the first rounds hit the runway, six loud blasts erupted on the east side of the perimeter, followed by machine gun fire and the boom of recoilless rifles.
The enemy ground attack on Phu Loi Base Camp was doomed. When the shooting stopped around 0030, I crawled into my bed and went to sleep.
Our lieutenant came to the barracks just after sun-up and ordered us to form ranks in front of the building, in preparation for our next operation, policing the battlefield.
A few badly-wounded enemy soldiers remained, left behind by their comrades in the retreat that followed defeat. As my squad approached one of these unfortunate fellows with a bloody gash in his thigh, the man gestured with scarred hands, indicating his intent to surrender.
When I reached the corpse I began searching for intelligence data. I found a letter in the breast pocket of his uniform, and two leather-bound books inside a knapsack which lay nearby. I tucked the items in the cargo pocket of my trousers, took the dead man’s rifle and ammunition, and checked on the medic’s progress.
Two minutes later, another enemy soldier pretended to surrender before opening fire with his rifle. Fortunately, his aim was off, and my machine gunner suffered only a minor wound.
Hiroshi Watanabe’s story sat in a box with my other military mementoes for exactly fifty years, the anniversary of my induction into the U.S. Army. I studied the first page for a very long time, allowing the words to sink in. This was indeed extraordinary; it was one of the Viet Nam War's greatest stories, and it needed to be told. After a few days of careful review, I began converting Master Sergeant Tachibana's literal translation to a more readable writing style.
As Xo Bang led our unit on the path from our encampment, I noticed a heavy dew on the foliage. An hour into our march Xo Bang called a halt for rest. While we sat on the damp ground perspiring, heavy drops struck the topmost leaves and began dripping downward through the triple-canopy jungle. The uncomfortable feeling of impending danger emerged inside of me, sending a chill into my bones and prompting unpleasant memories of events which included both combat and rain. I recalled shivering for a week waiting for a French Army convoy in 1946, and working to fortify a hilltop a few months earlier. In the former event, I was seriously injured by explosive shells which shattered my machine gun emplacement. In the course of the second
operation, malaria attacked my body, bringing me within days of a terrible death. I dreaded the outcome when Xo Bang told us to move forward to our blocking position south of Phu Loi.
operation, malaria attacked my body, bringing me within days of a terrible death. I dreaded the outcome when Xo Bang told us to move forward to our blocking position south of Phu Loi.
Unfortunately, Captain Vien had not finished speaking. He continued, explaining that attacks conducted by the engineer unit and 4TH Company were components of a large offensive against French forces. While we were marching toward our objectives, Pham's 1ST Company would take up positions in the rice fields facing Thu Da Mot Airbase's northern perimeter, and send ten thousand rounds of rifle and machine gun fire into the installation, concentrating their fire on aircraft parking areas. 2ND Company's tasks included a nighttime assault on the old barracks complex near Phu Loi, and intermittent sniping at Thu Da Mot's main gate.
Six hours after the truck had stopped in front of his home, Pham was pushed through the gate of Phu Loi Prison.
A few days later, a shocking event occurred at the Phu Loi Prison. Unfortunately, there were so many rumors concerning this, it became difficult to determine the truth. According to Nguyen Sang Quan, the trouble began when the Saigon Government confined too many political prisoners in the barracks complex the Imperial Japanese Army had constructed in the closing months of the late World War. After the Saigon Government converted the installation to house
opponents of President Diem’s regime, the inmates were frequently beaten by cruel guards, given inadequate rations, and forced to sleep on narrow planks set close together.
opponents of President Diem’s regime, the inmates were frequently beaten by cruel guards, given inadequate rations, and forced to sleep on narrow planks set close together.
The infantrymen quickly surrounded the compound, using the threat of bayonets to end the uprising. Left with no other choice, the unfortunate
prisoners obeyed an order to return to the undamaged buildings. Nguyen continued his account, telling us a man who lived in Phu Loi Village claimed two hundred fifty men were poisoned by the food, and two hundred twenty-three had been shot or burned to death.
prisoners obeyed an order to return to the undamaged buildings. Nguyen continued his account, telling us a man who lived in Phu Loi Village claimed two hundred fifty men were poisoned by the food, and two hundred twenty-three had been shot or burned to death.
As he said this, the last army cargo truck passed through the road junction and the soldiers guarding the highway returned to their trucks and left, driving southward toward Saigon. We paused in Phu Loi for a short while, watching workers build a new cinema, the first in our district. An announcement,pasted to the partially-completed wall, declared the initial film would be shown on the seventh day of the Lunar New Year.
On the last day of the month we received a surprise: Nguyen Sang Quan brought our former Battalion Commander to the garden plot. Pham had been arrested by the National Police in the Year of the Dog and sentenced to three years in Phu Loi Prison for anti-government activities. Sadly, his prison term was unjust; he had merely voted for candidates not approved by President Diem's regime.
On 1 June Sergeant Dai Thien brought the soldier-farmer's pay and told us about a foolish government plan which would ruin many farmers in the district. According to the Sergeant, the generals in Saigon had become desperate and begged the United States to send thousands more infantrymen. The Americans agreed, and the Revolutionary Council developed a plan to seize large tracts of land for headquarters, barracks and airbases. Unfortunately, three hundred fifty
hectares near Phu Loi were selected for a single installation.
hectares near Phu Loi were selected for a single installation.
As the rice grew and matured, I watched three hundred fifty hectares of the citizen's land be transformed into a huge American encampment.
The Americans were disciplined and efficient in their effort to build a huge military installation.
The abandoned villages presented another obstacle to the project. As the Americans began destroying the houses, a hidden grenade exploded, wounding two soldiers.
The Americans treated the village cemeteries with respect. During one of our observation walks past the new installation, Matome and I watched as a group of about thirty soldiers worked at this project. Four men dug up each grave, carefully placed the remains in a simple wooden
coffin, and put it in a truck along with the marker stone.
coffin, and put it in a truck along with the marker stone.
Improving the interior of the new installation required more time and effort. Matome and I were certain the flooded rice fields would hamper the Americans. We were mistaken. Their military engineers were clever.
After a nine-week period, the hill no longer existed and the new encampment had a flat surface, which was one meter above the surrounding terrain. A sign posted at the entry road from Highway 313 marked the end of the three-month development. The soldier-farmers were unable to understand the words and asked Nguyen Sang Quan to interpret the unfamiliar language. He told us the sign read: Welcome to Phu Loi Base Camp, Home of the 1ST Infantry
Division Artillery.
Division Artillery.
More than one thousand American servicemen arrived during the next two weeks, and each day many truckloads of building materials passed through Tan Phuoc Khanh on their way to the new American installation. At the same time, Republic of Vietnam airmen and soldiers conducted an orderly withdrawal from Thu Da Mot Airbase, ceding control to the foreigners. The Americans worked quickly, building a hard surface runway nearly one thousand meters long.
They also constructed hundreds of offices, barracks, workshops, warehouses, and maintenance facilities. Most of these were simple structures with wooden walls topped by screens, and roofs of corrugated metal. In September, four batteries of artillerymen emplaced twenty-four howitzers at the corners of Phu Loi Base Camp. By late October, American helicopters, reconnaissance planes, fighter-bombers, and infantrymen were conducting operations. Curiously, the Saigon Army kept a small portion of the encampment at the southwest angle for its engineer and communications units. It was called Lam Son.
They also constructed hundreds of offices, barracks, workshops, warehouses, and maintenance facilities. Most of these were simple structures with wooden walls topped by screens, and roofs of corrugated metal. In September, four batteries of artillerymen emplaced twenty-four howitzers at the corners of Phu Loi Base Camp. By late October, American helicopters, reconnaissance planes, fighter-bombers, and infantrymen were conducting operations. Curiously, the Saigon Army kept a small portion of the encampment at the southwest angle for its engineer and communications units. It was called Lam Son.
On a moonlit night in early May, two mortar teams brought their weapons to an oxcart trail between Xom Lo Ren and An My. After assembling the components, the soldiers fired one hundred twelve 82mm rounds into Phu Loi Base Camp, setting fires near the runway. The attack lasted less than three minutes, then the teams quickly disassembled the base plates, bi pods, and tubes, and fled.
One week after this incident, a People's Army rocket artillery unit fired ten 122mm rockets into Phu Loi Base Camp, killing six more soldiers and wrecking four helicopters. Three more farmers saw their fields damaged by American howitzer shells. As I recorded the attacks in my journal a few nights later, I hoped the National Liberation Front would not order mortar or rocket units to fire from locations near Tan Phuoc Khanh; one battery of the American guns was only three kilometers from my home.
From my home in Tan Phuoc Khanh I could hear People's Army artillery units attacking Phu Loi Base Camp. The Northerners sent shells into the American installation on eleven nights in late November and early December. When Matome, Masanori, and I were awakened by the distinctive sound of mortar rounds leaving the tubes, we often went outside and watched the events. The heaviest exchange began at 2300 hours on 10 December, when a mortar team located in the rice fields northwest of the camp fired sixty rounds at the runway and nearby maintenance areas. These caused two fires and a secondary explosion. American howitzers responded with eighty-four 105mm rounds. As the guns fell silent, another People's Army mortar placed south of Phu Huu fired fifty more shells into the camp. Once again, the American gun crews sent 105mm rounds toward their opponent's site. At 2330 hours the Northerners, located approximately eight kilometers north of the perimeter, launched four 122mm rockets at Phu Loi Base Camp. Matome, Masanori, and I watched these move through the sky in a long arc, which ended in explosions near the runway. There were no flames or other indications of a successful strike, but American
artillery set fire to a woodland near Chanh Long.
artillery set fire to a woodland near Chanh Long.
Two days later, Xo Bang told the garden workers a neighbor heard that four Americans were killed and eighteen others wounded by People's Army shells. The man also claimed three helicopters were destroyed and eleven damaged.
Then Lieutenant Boi stepped forward and asked if any soldier had questions. Sergeant Quoc Van Bao wondered how the heavy weapons teams would aim in darkness. The Lieutenant told him that sappers who had been given special training, would use a night vision instrument to aid in placing sets of stakes in the ground. When a machine gun was centered between the four pieces of bamboo, it could only fire in a very narrow arc. This assured each target would be hit
with accurate fire. Sergeant Bo's inquiry concerned the assembly areas, which he thought were rather small. He said concentrating troops presented an opportunity for a single artillery round to cause many casualties. Lieutenant Boi replied, telling him the General Staff had considered this but determined the American artillery would likely fire at the mortars first, giving the attacking force sufficient time to rush toward the breaks in the barbed wire. This caused Sergeant Vu to ask what might happen if a certain unit's paths through the perimeter were not opened. The Lieutenant was unable to answer, and after a short while, Captain Tran spoke, saying the sapper units were always successful. Corporal Van Than Cao wondered about the final stage of the attack, withdrawing from Phu Loi Base Camp after the objectives were destroyed. Lieutenant Boi told him everyone would return to the rice fields using the same routes, then each section would disperse into small groups and make their way back to their own encampment. It was unlikely the Americans would try to pursue, as two teams of sappers had been ordered to use a secret tunnel to enter the installation. Once inside, they would detonate explosive charges in barracks near the western edge of the perimeter, causing more damage, and creating additional confusion among the defenders. Sergeant Ngo Quoc Khanh asked the most important question, inquiring about casualties. Our Company Commander replied, saying he expected every soldier to perform in an exceptional manner. This would reduce the number of dead and wounded to a moderate level. With that, Captain Tran announced four hundred eight men of the 208TH Independent Battalion and forty-six men of the 9TH Sapper Company would commence the attack at 2230 hours on the night of 10 March.
with accurate fire. Sergeant Bo's inquiry concerned the assembly areas, which he thought were rather small. He said concentrating troops presented an opportunity for a single artillery round to cause many casualties. Lieutenant Boi replied, telling him the General Staff had considered this but determined the American artillery would likely fire at the mortars first, giving the attacking force sufficient time to rush toward the breaks in the barbed wire. This caused Sergeant Vu to ask what might happen if a certain unit's paths through the perimeter were not opened. The Lieutenant was unable to answer, and after a short while, Captain Tran spoke, saying the sapper units were always successful. Corporal Van Than Cao wondered about the final stage of the attack, withdrawing from Phu Loi Base Camp after the objectives were destroyed. Lieutenant Boi told him everyone would return to the rice fields using the same routes, then each section would disperse into small groups and make their way back to their own encampment. It was unlikely the Americans would try to pursue, as two teams of sappers had been ordered to use a secret tunnel to enter the installation. Once inside, they would detonate explosive charges in barracks near the western edge of the perimeter, causing more damage, and creating additional confusion among the defenders. Sergeant Ngo Quoc Khanh asked the most important question, inquiring about casualties. Our Company Commander replied, saying he expected every soldier to perform in an exceptional manner. This would reduce the number of dead and wounded to a moderate level. With that, Captain Tran announced four hundred eight men of the 208TH Independent Battalion and forty-six men of the 9TH Sapper Company would commence the attack at 2230 hours on the night of 10 March.
Two naive Japanese farm boys join the army hoping to achieve glory in Japan's long-running war with China. They are bound by their homeland's ancient traditions and pledge two things: loyalty to the Emperor, and to always be honorable soldiers. Despite the fact that their military service is prolonged, they keep those promises for twenty-eight years, nine months, and four days.
The author who was a squad leader found the journals for this book on a dead Japanese soldier outside the perimeter of Phu Loi Base Camp.
Two naive Japanese farm boys join the army hoping to achieve glory in Japan's long-running war with China. They are bound by their homeland's ancient traditions and pledge two things: loyalty to the Emperor, and to always be honorable soldiers. Despite the fact that their military service is prolonged, they keep those promises for twenty-eight years, nine months, and four days.
The author who was a squad leader found the journals for this book on a dead Japanese soldier outside the perimeter of Phu Loi Base Camp.