Death Valley_ The Summer Offensive, I Corps, August 1969 - Keith Nolan [36]
From the Hot Dog, Lieutenant Colonel Dowd had a panoramic view of the fight; no NVA could be seen retreating from the tree line. They had found their attackers all right, and they too wanted another solid confrontation. Artillery from An Hoa was up again shortly, and the C/1/7 FO adjusted it into the wood line. Several sorties of Phantoms roared in, napalm canisters wobbling down in their wake. But the AKs kept firing, and the NVA lobbed a few mortar rounds onto Charlie Company and the Battalion CP. Lieutenant Hord and his group stayed pinned to the dusty ground and pinned to their radios. He ordered his two lead platoons to unpack the E8 gas launchers they’d been humping around for months without using; the wind was perfect and they fired the gas right into the trees. The NVA fire became disoriented for a moment, and the lead squads were able to advance a quick jog to the next series of dikes. That was the pattern for the afternoon.
When Charlie pushed off, Lieutenant Colonel Dowd radioed Captain Fagan to be prepared to assault south, then east, if Charlie Company bogged down.
Fagan sat down with his headquarters group, going over the maps. They planned to attack in a standard skirmish line, two up and one back, and they would split the CP element between the two lead platoons. Captain Fagan would accompany one platoon, GySgt C. C. Richards the other. The gunny was Fagan’s unflappable alter ego in running the company; he was a hard taskmaster and looked like a Marine NCO down to the shaved head, stocky build, and snarls. During that April foray when Lieutenant Peters’s platoon had been pinned down with two dead, his stalwart, Cpl R. L. Gibson, had run back for help. Gunny Richards had rounded up a group and, with Gibson, led a wild charge that allowed Peters to drag their casualties back. Such casual bravery had its price. Gunny Richards’s tour ended during a November operation in the Que Sons, when he charged a 12.7mm machine gun that had pinned down a platoon; he was shot in the face, his cheek and lower jawbone splintered.
Captain Fagan would join the other platoon with 1stLt Bob Allan, his FO, and with his three radiomen. They were his constant shadows. Corporal Brundage, chief radioman, was a savvy guy who kept Fagan abreast of the mood among the grunts. Lance Corporal Nelson, backup radioman, was a friendly guy known as the Lurch; he was tall, wiry, and always so loaded with extra batteries and C rations, in addition to his pack and radio, that each step looked like it would be his last. PFC Frenchy Paris, battalion net radioman, was a quiet young draftee with a wife back home. Fate had not treated him well, from draft board to Marine grunts, but he simply and quietly did the best job he could.
They were a good team. The company had a lot of heart, and Fagan’s instructions to them were simple. They already knew their jobs; he just let them know when it was time to go.
About two hours into Charlie Company’s slow advance, Frenchy handed the handset to Captain Fagan. Major Alexander was on the other end; he was quick and blunt, “Hey, Charlie’s not moving. How fast can you go?”
“We can move out in ten minutes.”
“You’re sure of that?”
“Yeah, I’m positive.”
A bit later, battalion called again: Delta Company was to come in on Charlie Company’s right flank and assault into the tree line. Captain Fagan had already been on the horn orienting his platoon leaders, and in short order they moved out as planned. First downhill to the south—over the area where Cashman had died—then up a small rise. With Fagan and Richards constantly on the radio to keep them spread out and on line, the platoon crested the hill which was blanketed by elephant grass, then pivoted left (east) and swept down the gentle slope.
At five hundred meters, they could see the tree line island; at three hundred meters, the AK47 and RPG fire began raining down on them.
Corporal Cominos unconsciously threw himself into the dirt. He found himself in a shallow depression, pressing, pressing down, his back so exposed