Into Cambodia - Keith Nolan [153]
With the invasion timetable breathing down his neck, Captain Schulcz finally called in his two minesweepers. He had to be in position before dusk. The risk of mines was less in the roadside thickets, so C Troop left Highway 22 and began busting bush as they continued north. They circled their wagons in an open area that had good fields of fire into the surrounding tree lines. Checking his map, Schulcz thought that the border ran right through the middle of his camp. He immediately sent one of his platoons on a reconnaissance to a stream that lay deeper in Cambodia, which the whole squadron would have to cross come morning's light. The only intelligence Schulcz had on Cambodia was his rudimentary map. It indicated a marsh along the stream, and a second platoon recon was dispatched to check that area for trafficability in case the enemy would take the primary crossing site under fire. Meanwhile, the 155mm self-propelled howitzers from corps artillery arrived. Noting the fifty-five-gallon oil drums on the ends of their gun tubes, Schulcz thought, well, that's a pretty easy way to carry your trash cans around. Actually, the artillery commander explained, the oil drums were supposed to be camouflage. Higher command was concerned that the artillery might telegraph their punch. If NVA scouts saw them, they could guess the outer limit of the advance by calculating the maximum range of the guns, so it had been suggested that the empty drums be put at the ends of the gun tubes so the enemy would think the SPs were only tanks. Schulcz dismissed that idea as completely ridiculous and was talking with the artillery captain about how to get the 155mm Hogs across the marshy stream when one of his recon platoons returned.
The acting platoon leader, a sergeant, walked up to the huddle as Schulcz discussed putting the A VLB across the stream. “Well,” the sergeant said, “why don't you walk across?”
“What do you mean–'walk across'?”
“The bridge is down but it's only about knee deep and it's a rock bottom.”
That became the plan. In the morning C Troop would clear the road to the stream, then send a few APCs across to cover the minesweepers. The streambed seemed a likely place to be mined. After the mines weeps, one platoon would secure the crossing site while the rest crossed over and, lastly, the A VLB would be dropped into place. Schulcz wanted the A VLB at the rear of his column. If anything would screw them up, he knew it would be that piece of machinery, for he knew nothing about its maintenance or the capabilities of the crew.
In the meantime, the command and control apparatus of the 2d Brigade, 25th Division, was moving into Thien Ngon. The Fire Brigade had previously been headquartered at FSB Colorado on the road to Vung Tau, and a sergeant described their new accommodations in the division newspaper:
The 25th Division's new forward supply point at Thien Ngon is a hot, ugly, depressing place. It is depressing because it is such a large, sore pimple on the face of a once-beautiful landscape. It is a treeless patch of flat, sandy, beaten-down grassy ground, surrounded by a stark-naked hedge of defoliated trees. All the limbs are intact, whitened by rain and sun. The view is one of barren emptiness. The air is full of dust and cinders from hovering Chinooks…. The sun beats down–pounding down–a hundred and ten degrees….
From Thien Ngon, the brigade commander, Whitehead, helicoptered into the adjacent assembly area of the Three-Quarter Horse. Squadron commander Knotts was delighted to see him. New to the unit, Knotts had not even known that Whitehead was with the 25th Division, but they had served together before and, seeing him now, many of Knotts's apprehensions about Cambodia evaporated. Colonel Whitehead knew what he was doing.1 So did the brigade's supervising ADC, Thurman, who appeared almost flamboyant in the company of