Into Cambodia - Keith Nolan [103]
Coffman assumed command from Brookshire during the second week of June, but lost it during the second week of July after the squadron had moved from Cambodia to Di An. From his C&C, Coffman spotted several figures that lay down when they realized they'd been seen. Since this was a populated area, the C&C skimmed low to check the identity before firing, but the figures were indeed NVA, and one rolled over to fire his AK47 skyward. The burst wounded Lieutenant Colonel Coffman in the arm, and killed Master Sergeant Bolan.
PART FIVE: IF IT COULD GO WRONG, IT WOULD GO WRONG
On the heels of the Fishhook attack, three new operations were launched across the border in quick succession, with the 4th Division initiating the northernmost of the incursions on 5 May; the 25th Division in the middle on 6 May; and the 3d Brigade (Separate), 9th Division, the southernmost, on 7 May 1970. The Cambodian operation of the 4th Division, known officially as the Ivy Division and unofficially as the Funky Fourth, was considered the least successful of the incursions, and was blasted by one noted historian for its “lack of divisional aggressiveness…. The division… seemed to be suffering from almost total combat paralysis.” The officers of the 4th Division bristled under such commentary, and one young rifle platoon leader rejoined, “… if putting an entire battalion in a hot LZ is being aggressive, then doing so with the lack of air support is just downright stupidity. Some people may call it murder. My battalion commander may not have been 'aggressive' but his common sense in all probability saved my life.”
Chapter 19: HOT LZs
Returning from the isolation of a two-week operation, Capt. Rellius J. Boudreaux of B Company, 3d Battalion, 8th Infantry, had the uneasy feeling that something was not right even before the battalion commander called his company commanders to the TOC and told them that the 4th Division was going into Cambodia. Captain Boudreaux had been waiting in the command bunker before the briefing and, completely cut off from the news during the previous two weeks, had been catching up with a new issue of the Pacific Stars and Stripes. There was a story about a unit standing down prior to going home, but also stories about the ARVN crossing into the Parrot's Beak. Another clue was the abrupt way in which his typically miserable, typically quiet two-week mission had just been cancelled:
The rains began two days after we were inserted. Since we only traveled with three days of rations, we would only eat when really hungry, thereby rationing our food in case of emergency. It rained almost steadily for about seven days and when it wasn't raining, we were socked in with fog, and helicopters don't fly in fog. The day came when the food ran out. Believe me when I say that it's extremely difficult to convince someone who is dry and well fed that someone in a foxhole half full of water is hungry, cold, and miserable. When I explained our status on the radio to the battalion supply officer, his response was, “War is hell.” Needless to say, upon hearing his response, I made life for this officer in the Republic of Vietnam a little rough. My first act was to notify the battalion commander of our status; we requested a tactical emergency and received an okay. When a ground commander asks for a declaration of Tac E, the pressure is placed on the direct support officer–in this case our battalion supply officer–to meet the requirements at all costs. It was within forty-eight hours of my request that I was awakened at dawn by the popping sound of rotor blades and the shaky voice of a helicopter pilot asking us to pop smoke. When he landed we had a