hist2004
04-18-2004, 04:24 PM
Rod Macon served three tours with Military Assistance Command, Vietnam
Special Operations Group, and was wounded three times.
“Getting to Nam was no express trip for this soldier. Before I got the order for
my trans-Pacific excursion, I’d worked my way through over two-and-a-half
years in training. From Basic and Advanced Infantry Training at Fort Jackson,
South Carolina, through the NCO Academy, jump school and Ranger School
at Fort Benning, I’d sweated up to the JFK Special Warfare School, Fort Bragg.
At Bragg I qualified in guerrilla warfare, small arms and counter-intelligence
operations.
I finally made it to Vietnam, in November 1971. From there I was sent to Da Nang,
where I was attached to G Company rangers for my preliminary in-country
training on reconnaissance ops. Then it was a step up to MACV Special Operations
Group CNN (Command and Control North), which ran all clandestine ops in I
Corps, Northern Laos and North Vietnam.
Most of our external missions were quick in-and-out recons to locate enemy
concentrations and set up standard airstrikes or B-52 Arc Light raids. We were
also tasked with assassinating high-level Viet Cong or NVA officials or officers.
We inherited this after the demise of the CIA’s Phoenix Program. The Agency
still had excellent on-the-ground assets in the North Vietnamese local govern-
ments, as well as in Laos and South Vietnamese villages. If the Agency guys got
word, for example, that a couple of NVA colonels were coming down near the
border for an inspection or planning session, we’d go in and try to get them.
Although I was on two ops into the Parrot’s Beak area in Cambodia, as well as
a few into North Vietnam, most of my external operations were in Laos. My
deepest penetration was about 20 klicks into Laos for an assassination mission,
which turned into a complete screw-up. We’d hit a heavy contact and were
trying to get away when I stopped to give covering fire and was overrun by the
NVA. This NVA actually took me out with the butt of his AK-47. He laid me
out cold but must have decided I was dead, because he left me there. If it hadn’t
been for one of our Nungs who came back for me, I probably wouldn’t be here
today.
We used the Nungs a lot. They were definitely some bad dudes you didn’t want
to mess with. Real pros. They were also unbelievably loyal and trust-worthy-
there were a number of occasions when they went back into serious Indian
country to rescue wounded Americans.
Not long before the Vietnamese Tet holiday in 1971, we received intelligence
that NVA and local Viet Cong forces were building up strength at a place less
than 10 klicks inside Laos. My team- Recon Team “Python”-was tasked with
going in to check things out. The afternoon before, we received a briefing from
one of the Agency people assigned to us. He told us that there was an obvious
build-up of forces, but no-one knew why. Our job was to determine whether
the NVA were there to supply the Viet Cong, or to assist them on ops. As with
most missions of this kind, it was emphasized that it was strictly a recon; we were
not-repeat not- to make contact.
After the briefing, we pulled our equipment and went over the operation in detail.
Even though we would make every effort to avoid contact, we still went in loaded
for bear. My personal weapons included a Swedish K sub-machine gun, a sawn-
off 12-gauge pump shot-gun shoved down the top of my rucksack with 24 rounds
of OO buckshot and 10 “flechette” rounds, a Browning High Power and my Gerber
fighting knife. I also carried two Claymores, two pounds of C4 plastic explosive,
six frag and two concussion grenades, two white phos grenades and two smoke
grenades, plus a bundle of canteens.
We each had our personal first aid kits and seven packs of freeze-dried LURP rations-
one pack per day-and underneath the rucks we wore STABO extraction harnesses.
This all came to about 120 pounds. At the time, I only weighed 148 pounds soaking
wet!
Each team was basically divided into two. If our mission was compromised by a contact
or had been spotted, one half would take off for the extraction point while the other half
would try to disappear and continue the mission. It was a tactic that worked pretty well
on occasion.
We boarded our slicks and departed around 0330 the next morning and flew to our
Forward Operating Base (FOB) near the Cau Viet River, northwest of Khe Sanh. There
were four slicks and two gunships riding shot-gun. Another slick-and-gunship team broke
off before we reached the border and flew to another location a few klicks the other side
of where the Viet Cong-NVA force was reported to be. Without being too obvious about
it, they tried to get themselves spotted. The idea was that they’d be our decoys and direct
any unwanted attention away from us.
The insertion went smooth as honey. We were on the ground and already setting up a
perimeter before the pilots were pulling collective to get out of there. It was still 30
minutes before sunrise and as soon as the slicks were gone and we decided there was
no-one waiting for us, we checked our equipment and maps and moved out.
For the next four or five hours, everything was still going smooth. I was working trail
behind my half of the team when we hit an old French logging road. The forward half
of the team moved in ones and twos across the road. As soon as they got across, the
whole world opened up on us.
We hit the ground and returned fire with everything we had. From the volume of fire
coming at us, we knew we’d hit something big and that there was no percentage in
hanging around.
When they sprang the ambush, all our training and experience went into the automatic
mode. My half of the team laid down maximum covering fire so the first half could get
back across the road. As soon as they across, they went through our position and set
up covering fire behind us. We’d then withdraw back through their position and lay
down covering fire for them. This way, we could keep the enemy under constant fire
while we put some distance between us and them.
The team leader was already on the radio to our FOB radio relay team, to advise that
we needed immediate air support and extraction. By this time, we had two Nungs KIA
plus two Nungs and two Americas wounded. We were withdrawing as fast as possible,
having already dumped our rucks and any other non-essential equipment.
The trail half of the team would set Claymores, running the tripwires across our tracks.
As soon as the enemy tripped one, we’d lay into them hard and start running again.
I suppose the one thing in the back of our minds was getting captured. Capture by the
NVA wouldn’t be pleasant, but if the Viet Cong got us….they had very special treat-
ment for any SOG team member. We once found two of our people they’d captured.
They’d been strung up by their ankles, gutted and their genitals had been cut off and
stuck in their mouths. We had no intention of letting them get their hands on us.
Soon our radio relay team called back to say that not only were the extraction slicks
en route, but that it was “no sweat” on the air support-we had two F4s in-bound at
that time. We called them, using our callsign “Dirty Trick”. The flight leader’s voice
coming back at us was pure heaven.
We were still moving as fast as we could, and the bad guys were right on our butts.
We hit an open area and as soon as we were across it, stopped and laid everything
we had into the other side. About that time we saw the two F4’s.
The first F4 came in fast and low, releasing his entire load of Delta twos-500 pounders-
a little west of where we wanted. About 10 seconds later, the second F4 put half his
load right on target. Before the smoke had cleared, we were running again, beating
feet through the woods as fast we could go. By now, we had been running and fighting
for over two hours. We went straight past our primary extraction point, hoping to give
the people behind us a false indication, and humped hard for the second.
At the second extraction point, the slicks came in hot and our people were diving on
board before the skids even touched the ground. Heavy fire was already coming from
the treeline to our left and one of the slicks was hit hard and went in, the pilot and crew-
chief both dead. Some of us got to the Huey-which was already starting to burn-and
got the co-pilot and door gunner out while the four gunships riding shot-gun for the
extraction opened up on the treeline.
I was the last man on the last slick and I was hollering GO! GO! GO! As I dived through
the door. As the pilot was getting us out of there, we could feel and hear rounds going
through the fuselage and tail. He kept the nose down, dragging the skids through the
tree tops and going balls to the wall until we were out of range. Only then could we
take stock of our losses. Incredibly, we had no more wounded.
Intelligence later learned that instead of being inserted the planned eight to 10 klicks
from the suspected Viet Con-NVA concentration, we’d actually landed about one-
and-a-half klicks from two reinforced NVA battalions. The only things that saved
us were experience, a lot of hard fighting and lady luck”.
Regards,
Hist2004
Special Operations Group, and was wounded three times.
“Getting to Nam was no express trip for this soldier. Before I got the order for
my trans-Pacific excursion, I’d worked my way through over two-and-a-half
years in training. From Basic and Advanced Infantry Training at Fort Jackson,
South Carolina, through the NCO Academy, jump school and Ranger School
at Fort Benning, I’d sweated up to the JFK Special Warfare School, Fort Bragg.
At Bragg I qualified in guerrilla warfare, small arms and counter-intelligence
operations.
I finally made it to Vietnam, in November 1971. From there I was sent to Da Nang,
where I was attached to G Company rangers for my preliminary in-country
training on reconnaissance ops. Then it was a step up to MACV Special Operations
Group CNN (Command and Control North), which ran all clandestine ops in I
Corps, Northern Laos and North Vietnam.
Most of our external missions were quick in-and-out recons to locate enemy
concentrations and set up standard airstrikes or B-52 Arc Light raids. We were
also tasked with assassinating high-level Viet Cong or NVA officials or officers.
We inherited this after the demise of the CIA’s Phoenix Program. The Agency
still had excellent on-the-ground assets in the North Vietnamese local govern-
ments, as well as in Laos and South Vietnamese villages. If the Agency guys got
word, for example, that a couple of NVA colonels were coming down near the
border for an inspection or planning session, we’d go in and try to get them.
Although I was on two ops into the Parrot’s Beak area in Cambodia, as well as
a few into North Vietnam, most of my external operations were in Laos. My
deepest penetration was about 20 klicks into Laos for an assassination mission,
which turned into a complete screw-up. We’d hit a heavy contact and were
trying to get away when I stopped to give covering fire and was overrun by the
NVA. This NVA actually took me out with the butt of his AK-47. He laid me
out cold but must have decided I was dead, because he left me there. If it hadn’t
been for one of our Nungs who came back for me, I probably wouldn’t be here
today.
We used the Nungs a lot. They were definitely some bad dudes you didn’t want
to mess with. Real pros. They were also unbelievably loyal and trust-worthy-
there were a number of occasions when they went back into serious Indian
country to rescue wounded Americans.
Not long before the Vietnamese Tet holiday in 1971, we received intelligence
that NVA and local Viet Cong forces were building up strength at a place less
than 10 klicks inside Laos. My team- Recon Team “Python”-was tasked with
going in to check things out. The afternoon before, we received a briefing from
one of the Agency people assigned to us. He told us that there was an obvious
build-up of forces, but no-one knew why. Our job was to determine whether
the NVA were there to supply the Viet Cong, or to assist them on ops. As with
most missions of this kind, it was emphasized that it was strictly a recon; we were
not-repeat not- to make contact.
After the briefing, we pulled our equipment and went over the operation in detail.
Even though we would make every effort to avoid contact, we still went in loaded
for bear. My personal weapons included a Swedish K sub-machine gun, a sawn-
off 12-gauge pump shot-gun shoved down the top of my rucksack with 24 rounds
of OO buckshot and 10 “flechette” rounds, a Browning High Power and my Gerber
fighting knife. I also carried two Claymores, two pounds of C4 plastic explosive,
six frag and two concussion grenades, two white phos grenades and two smoke
grenades, plus a bundle of canteens.
We each had our personal first aid kits and seven packs of freeze-dried LURP rations-
one pack per day-and underneath the rucks we wore STABO extraction harnesses.
This all came to about 120 pounds. At the time, I only weighed 148 pounds soaking
wet!
Each team was basically divided into two. If our mission was compromised by a contact
or had been spotted, one half would take off for the extraction point while the other half
would try to disappear and continue the mission. It was a tactic that worked pretty well
on occasion.
We boarded our slicks and departed around 0330 the next morning and flew to our
Forward Operating Base (FOB) near the Cau Viet River, northwest of Khe Sanh. There
were four slicks and two gunships riding shot-gun. Another slick-and-gunship team broke
off before we reached the border and flew to another location a few klicks the other side
of where the Viet Cong-NVA force was reported to be. Without being too obvious about
it, they tried to get themselves spotted. The idea was that they’d be our decoys and direct
any unwanted attention away from us.
The insertion went smooth as honey. We were on the ground and already setting up a
perimeter before the pilots were pulling collective to get out of there. It was still 30
minutes before sunrise and as soon as the slicks were gone and we decided there was
no-one waiting for us, we checked our equipment and maps and moved out.
For the next four or five hours, everything was still going smooth. I was working trail
behind my half of the team when we hit an old French logging road. The forward half
of the team moved in ones and twos across the road. As soon as they got across, the
whole world opened up on us.
We hit the ground and returned fire with everything we had. From the volume of fire
coming at us, we knew we’d hit something big and that there was no percentage in
hanging around.
When they sprang the ambush, all our training and experience went into the automatic
mode. My half of the team laid down maximum covering fire so the first half could get
back across the road. As soon as they across, they went through our position and set
up covering fire behind us. We’d then withdraw back through their position and lay
down covering fire for them. This way, we could keep the enemy under constant fire
while we put some distance between us and them.
The team leader was already on the radio to our FOB radio relay team, to advise that
we needed immediate air support and extraction. By this time, we had two Nungs KIA
plus two Nungs and two Americas wounded. We were withdrawing as fast as possible,
having already dumped our rucks and any other non-essential equipment.
The trail half of the team would set Claymores, running the tripwires across our tracks.
As soon as the enemy tripped one, we’d lay into them hard and start running again.
I suppose the one thing in the back of our minds was getting captured. Capture by the
NVA wouldn’t be pleasant, but if the Viet Cong got us….they had very special treat-
ment for any SOG team member. We once found two of our people they’d captured.
They’d been strung up by their ankles, gutted and their genitals had been cut off and
stuck in their mouths. We had no intention of letting them get their hands on us.
Soon our radio relay team called back to say that not only were the extraction slicks
en route, but that it was “no sweat” on the air support-we had two F4s in-bound at
that time. We called them, using our callsign “Dirty Trick”. The flight leader’s voice
coming back at us was pure heaven.
We were still moving as fast as we could, and the bad guys were right on our butts.
We hit an open area and as soon as we were across it, stopped and laid everything
we had into the other side. About that time we saw the two F4’s.
The first F4 came in fast and low, releasing his entire load of Delta twos-500 pounders-
a little west of where we wanted. About 10 seconds later, the second F4 put half his
load right on target. Before the smoke had cleared, we were running again, beating
feet through the woods as fast we could go. By now, we had been running and fighting
for over two hours. We went straight past our primary extraction point, hoping to give
the people behind us a false indication, and humped hard for the second.
At the second extraction point, the slicks came in hot and our people were diving on
board before the skids even touched the ground. Heavy fire was already coming from
the treeline to our left and one of the slicks was hit hard and went in, the pilot and crew-
chief both dead. Some of us got to the Huey-which was already starting to burn-and
got the co-pilot and door gunner out while the four gunships riding shot-gun for the
extraction opened up on the treeline.
I was the last man on the last slick and I was hollering GO! GO! GO! As I dived through
the door. As the pilot was getting us out of there, we could feel and hear rounds going
through the fuselage and tail. He kept the nose down, dragging the skids through the
tree tops and going balls to the wall until we were out of range. Only then could we
take stock of our losses. Incredibly, we had no more wounded.
Intelligence later learned that instead of being inserted the planned eight to 10 klicks
from the suspected Viet Con-NVA concentration, we’d actually landed about one-
and-a-half klicks from two reinforced NVA battalions. The only things that saved
us were experience, a lot of hard fighting and lady luck”.
Regards,
Hist2004