Into Cambodia - Keith Nolan [214]
Under Captain Lodoen, Bravo Company no longer gave battalion any headaches.1 Since graduating from West Point in 1963, Lodoen, who was thirty-three, had spent most of his career as a company commander, including a 1967-68 tour with the 9th Division. The fundamentals were second nature to him, and he was an immensely confident, personable soul who walked with the point squad when things looked hairy and who talked with his young, inexperienced grunts when things were on their minds. The troops were, in fact, nervous about the new colonel's change to platoon-sized patrols, “…what about this new concept, sir. I don't know about going out with thirty-five people like that.”
“Hey, we're close at hand.” Lodoen let them know he wasn't going to send them out on a string that he couldn't pull back in if things got too hot. “You're only going out four to five hundred meters, then you're going to circle or cloverleaf back to us. It's not like you're going out overnight and you're sixteen miles away.”
The whole tempo of operations had increased under Lieutenant Colonel Crancer. His predecessor had been a polished gentleman most cautious in his tactics: He had conducted mostly company-sized patrols, quietly ignoring brigade policy to risk platoon-sized patrols so as to cover more ground. Although Crancer was only the stopgap CO of the 5th of the 12th Warriors, his instructions were to push hard: As much damage as possible had to be wracked on the NVA supply network before politics dictated the withdrawal of U.S. ground forces from Cambodia in only four more weeks. Working in the sweltering, rolling, rain-swept, jungle-carpeted hills around FSB Myron, Crancer covered more ground by working the standard “company line,” each platoon conducting recons five hundred to two thousand meters apart, with the company command group humping along with one of the platoons. Each platoon was delivered extra machine guns and a backup radio, a necessity, Crancer said, “if you're going to put those guys out on their weenies by themselves.”
At ground level, the pucker factor shot up.
On 8 June 1970, another ceremony was conducted in the mud at Firebase Myron. General Casey pinned a Bronze Star, and Colonel Selton an Air Medal with V device, to Crancer's pocket flap, then Selton passed on the command standard to Lt. Col. Wood R. DeLeuil. Woody DeLeuil, a youthful-looking energetic man with a master's degree in nuclear physics, had pulled a 1965-66 tour as an ARVN adviser, and had ended 1969 as a battalion operations officer in the 101st Airborne until his helicopter was shot down. After mending for four months in Japan, he finished his recuperation as the G-3, XXIV Corps, Da Nang, before being reassigned to the 5-12 Infantry in Cambodia to complete his tour.
Crancer was hard-core; DeLeuil was equally capable but more like a hometown executive. The outgoing commander, USMA 1955, spent a few moments with the incoming commander, USMA 1956, sketching in the strengths and weaknesses of the battalion's line officers. Major Blumhardt, the S-3, was a West Point football player and Screaming Eagles company commander on his first tour. His imposing physique and sleepy-voiced growl masked an efficient, easygoing disposition. Captain Hess of A Company was tough and smart. Captain Lodoen of B Company was, said Crancer, “…a damn rebel, but he's aggressive as hell and can flat fight. Shit, I think the world of him, but he's one of these guys that if you take him literally you'll get all pissed off because he always has something to say about the hierarchy or the way things are going. Actually, a lot of the things he has to say are very astute observations. He'll tell you the honest, unvarnished truth, where a lot of guys would try to put it in the best light.”
Captain Thursam of C Company was dependable and well liked by his troops. Captain Miller of D Company was a subdued man. He'd joined the battalion in a blaze of glory,