Today, 41 years ago, i.e., 7-17-70, at 0700, I breakfasted with Greg Unzicker while in the jungle of South Vietnam. Our unit was 2nd platoon, D Company, 1st Battalion., 12th Cav Reg, 1st Cavalry Div. We had been inserted the day before in in a helicopter combat assault for a two-week mission to patrol a segment of the Ho Chi Minh Trail after a B-52 bomb strike which left craters 20ft deep. We usually operated in platoon size, 15 men, rather than company size, 45 men as on this particular mission. Greg was one of our two gunners (men who carried the M-60 machine gun). Anyway, during breakfast, Greg told me that his wife was pregnant with his daughter and due to deliver in September. Greg said that he was taking a two-week leave to be with his wife in Hawaii. Hawaii was an R&R station exclusively for married soldiers. Greg also told me a little bit about his background. He sounded like a family man which surprised me because like me, he was so young.
After breakfast, we policed up our trip flares and claymores (anti-personnel mines) which we had set up around our NDP (night defensive position) to protect us from a night assault by the enemy. The captain sent 3rd platoon out on a patrol to recon the area, because two of our anti-personnel mines had been set off during the night. Greg told me that was a risky mission, because the gooks could still be alive and lying in wait for the men who would be reconnoitering the area. The patrol discovered two gooks dead on the trail where during the night two of the mines had been detonated by the enemy's walking into the trip wires. The night before, Terry Van Ochten and I had seen two gooks when we were setting up trip-flares and mines. I was not carrying my weapon, because I had to carry the mines and trips, while Terry would cover for me. We were unable to shoot at the gooks, because they suddenly disappeared from view. So, we knew there were gooks in the area. We alerted our platoon leader, but he shined us on. This was Terry's second day with us, he had arrived in Vietnam one month prior.
At 0900, the captain ordered the full company to begin a patrol down a trail, instead of cutting through the bush as we normally did to be more secure, i.e., prevent the enemy from discerning our patrol plan. I had been in country 1.5 months. As the second backup with 2nd platoon, I had been patrolling up and down hills cutting through the bush, and so I was glad to walk the trail because it was easier. Today, it was 2nd platoon's turn to walk point, and I had transitioned to being Don's AG (assistant gunner).
For some reason Terry wanted my job, he wanted to be the AG for Don. We argued and finally our lieutenant allowed the change; I became a rifleman walking drag, i.e., last man of 2nd platoon, and Terry and Don were the third and fourth men behind the point and backup men. We moved out quietly and slowly. It was very quiet, and so our pace quickened. At 0930, suddenly, bang! I heard one shot. A split second later, the gooks opened up with AKs, all of which sounded like 10 rifles firing. The bullets whistling by me were like a wind. My platoon had been ambushed and we were right in the middle of the ambush kill-zone. All men hit the deck, except me. I just froze standing. I could not believe the sound of gunfire. Shorty (a Puerto Rican guy) told me "get down." I dropped to the ground. The trail in the kill-zone of the ambush was a bit crooked; I took cover behind a rock which to this day I believe God put for me there; the rock was large enough to protect me. One gook was shooting at me, I figured that he could see my helmet just above the rock, as he kept missing me. Pieces of rock were hitting my helmet. I was scared and my teeth were chattering.
We began returning the fire, and immediately called for artillery support which began coming in after our artillery battery sighted our location. We also got aircraft support, but none of that did any good, because the gooks were right upon us. I rolled onto my back, unpinned a grenade and Snake saw me and yelled "frag out" just as I threw it to where I thought the gooks were. The firing stopped. I unpinned another, and again lobbed it at at the gooks. I and Snowbird (Larry Hansen) and Pete Badger secured the area. I began to move up. Wounded men began walking from the point to the rear. Greg was not one of those men. Don had taken three rounds on his right arm which he showed me; as I patched him up, Don told me that Terry and Greg were dead.
When Andy Miller got up to take the gun from Don, Andy took three rounds into his back and his right lower leg was broken by one AK round; he was screaming for a medic. As I moved forward to cover Andy, I saw two bodies, one was Greg, the other was a kid who was a newby just like Terry. I was completely exposed as I comforted Andy by placing his head on my leg, but he kept on screaming with pain. I was afraid Andy's screaming would eveal my posture.
When we tried to evacuate the dead and wounded, the gooks began shooting at the Med-Evac. Eventually, the gooks left and the wounded were evacuated. We bagged up our casualties and kept them overnight; the next morning, they were lifted out for their ride back home. I learned afterward, that our point man had spotted the ambush and fired first; that was the single shot that I had heard. The point-man had taken one round through his underarm, I patched him up; he survived. The medic's legs were shot up so he could not care for anyone. We took his medic's bag and quickly used up all of his bandages. We used our sweat towels to patch up wounds. When we got back to the firebase, I told the barber that the firefight had lasted two hours; he told me no more than five minutes and that he had been listening on a battalion radio. I believed him.
To this day, I believe that it was a mistake to order a company of 75 men to walk a trail after a night when its mines had killed two gooks. For the first 10 years after 7-17-70, I thought about my buddies at least once per week, specially Greg whom I had gotten to know in the weeks preceding 7-17-70. I still think about them today, with less frequency. July 17 is a special Memorial Day for me.
Frank de la Puente, 7-17-11"
