Into Cambodia - Keith Nolan [159]
The GIs of the Triple Deuce tossed C rations from their APCs as they passed Cambodian families on the roads, and taut smiles–the Cambodians thought it best to constantly wave and smile at the foreigners– eventually gave ways to looks of relief. The American GI, who generally considered the Vietnamese a manipulative and corrupt people, looked upon the Cambodians as innocent and gentle. The Cambodians' safe passage in Krek was insured not only by this attitude but by the precise rules of engagement governing the Tropic Lightning in Cambodia. In a letter to his son dictated in his CP (dated 15 May 1970), Brigadier General Greene, ADC, 25th Division, explained:
We are bending over backward to avoid causing Cambodian casualties or destruction of Cambodian property…. I have personally gone to each battalionsized unit to explain and to make certain all soldiers under-stand the critical importance of closely controlled firing. I have insisted that weapons firing on our part must be against an identified target and of the minimum caliber necessary. There have been isolated cases, accidents, wherein Cambodians (probably only ten or less) have been killed or wounded due to gross errors by artillery forward observers and “trigger-happy” or, more appropriately, terrified soldiers reacting instinctively. Personally, I think it is incredible that we have had so very, very few casualties among the Cambodian population. You just cannot begin to comprehend the extreme difficulty of controlling weapons firing in this environment.1
When the 25th Division set up positions near Cambodian hamlets, battalion surgeons and medics conducted medcaps for the villagers. When villagers were wounded, they were medevacked aboard military helicopters. When hamlets were damaged or destroyed in the crossfire, trucks arrived with civil affairs teams and Chinooks set down sheets of tin roofing and other building materials. The U.S. Army was very consciously trying to project the image that they were not “invading” Cambodia, that their quarrel was with the North Vietnamese Army that had seized Cambodian turf as their own. But, as General Greene continued in his field letter, the matter was complicated:
We are making a determined effort to hold down the Cambodians turning to us for assistance. This is because we know we cannot stay in Cambodia very much longer and we do not want them to begin to rely on us. In this regard, I know that they must have considerable fear for their future, when we withdraw back into South Vietnam and the VC/NVA come back into their base areas. I have reason to believe there will be very serious reprisals against the local Cambodian officials if the VC/NVA think there has been the slightest cooperation with the Americans. This is a very, very delicate problem for which I do not have a ready solution.
By late morning on 11 May 1970, Alpha Company of the Triple Deuce had cleared the hamlets around Krek and, moving north through the beautifully untamed and lush hills near Treak, assumed positions on a clear, grassy hill that sloped into the bombed woods. Waiting, Private Ross, hot, hungry, miserable, irritable from the incessant ringing in his head from the mine explosion, and slapping at the mosquitoes buzzing his ears, dug through a carton of C rations for the least disgusting meals. As he did so, a GI from another track stood up, pointing, screaming at the top of his lungs, “There's a gook! There's a goddamn gook! Look, a fucking gook!”
Heads spun toward the tree line behind their hill and there, a hundred and fifty meters away, an NVA soldier with an AK47 walked from the cover of the trees. Within seconds, half a dozen .50-caliber machine guns blasted all around the man. He ran through the high brush, weaving, falling, jumping back up. He finally went down and stayed down. The firing petered out. Then the NVA was up again in a ball of motion. Ross stared stunned as the .50-cals opened up again, joined by M16s this time and a pair of M79 grenade launchers, all of which blew up dust all around the NVA without