TBS 2-67 Cruisebook_Updated_7Jan23

A Tour of Duty in Vietnam
FDC bunker in a very short time. It required the dozer to dig a bladewide
ditch about eight feet deep. It was then covered by a roof of
interlocking runway aluminum air mat and then covered with multiple
layers of sand bags.
On January 22, with a company of infantry for security, we went to
Co Ca Va leapfrogging all the batteries, the FDC of 2nd Battalion 12th
Marines, as well as the COC of the 9th Marines commanded by future
Commandant Col. Robert Barrow, and the op’s name was changed to
Dewey Canyon. The enemy had little time to react with the infantry
spread around the north end of the valley. We were able to get every
unit in place and covered on the ridge before taking a single round of
enemy incoming.
Soon after we became fully operational, I had the distinct honor of
being visited by the commanding general of the whole operation,
LtGen Richard Stilwell. He actually had his helicopter shut down, then
walked down the ridge to the battery and talked to me, one on one, for
about an hour. He was quite chagrined that the airborne had been held
up. Actually, I don’t think the Army ever showed up.
But once we Marines were all in, things went downhill in a hurry.
The monsoon season set in causing us to live inside perpetual clouds
that engulfed the mountain and restricted our aerial resupply. The area
was replete with NVA, and the infantry was sending us plenty of
requests for fire missions to use up our ammunition. Within less than
two weeks, we were down to emergency ammo and being able to issue
only one C­ration a day per person. In spite of the constant clouds, it
rained on top of the mountain relatively little, and we had no adequate
way to collect rain water when it did rain. Consequently, we ran out of
potable water. I tried to send a patrol down the mountain burdened
with empty jugs and containers to fill at the first stream source, but the
patrol ran into NVA soldiers and had to abort empty­handed. Luckily,
all returned unscathed.
The other development was even worse. The enemy had finally
“gotten their feces cohesive” and started shelling us from their Laotian
gun positions. As we were to discover later, they had the equivalent of
two batteries (12 guns) of Russian made 122mm field guns ensconced
in about six hidden locations and operated by Russian mercenaries (a
stunning fact that was highly classified for many years). Because 1st
Prov’s howitzers were the only threat to the enemy’s artillery due to
their range, the enemy rounds were usually directed at our battery.
They could fire at will because the monsoon clouds protected them
from being seen by our air assets.
The barrage started the evening of February 2, 1969, while my
battery was involved in a high­angle fire mission. I was standing on
the left side of a howitzer admiring the efficiency of the cannon crew
as they loaded, fired, and reloaded their weapon. With no warning
sounds, an explosion occurred a couple hundred yards west of us
down the slope. I wasn’t sure what caused it. At first, I thought it was
something our infantry had done, like maybe blowing up a dud round.
After thinking about it for too many moments, I realized it was
probably incoming and maybe an adjusting round at that. The next one
could be right on us. I gave an order for everyone to take cover and
turned to follow the section chief out of the gun pit. I had not even
crossed the trail pit when a 122 round impacted immediately behind
me. It blew me right out of the gun pit. When I regained my senses, I
was prone on the ground just outside the pit with the unconscious
section chief in front of me, and I was looking at a new gaping wound
A‐77