The Scrapbook: Khe Sanh
The following article is reprinted from the very first issue of Red Clay (Issue No. 1, Spring, 1991.
The Red Clay editor pointed out that several Khe Sanh veterans were serving in Operation Desert Storm.
KHE SANH — A Marine crawled out of his bunker during a lull in an artillery bombardment and turned to his friend, “I think the NVA are getting ready to go home,” he said. “They’re trying to unload all their ammo on us before they leave, so they won’t have to carry it.” These are words spoken by Marines defending Khe Sanh.
Life is dreary, dirty and hard, but on the Marine combat base at Khe Sanh flashes of wit survive. This veneer of humor often masks a modified form of constant terror where every hour, minute and second could bring death.
It is a type of battle known only to those warriors of history who have experienced a siege. It is a battle that could be likened to Troy, the Alamo, Stalingrad, and more recently, Dien Bien Phu. The Marines defending Khe Sanh have withstood daily enemy artillery, rocket and mortar barrages. They have also survived several ground attacks.
On one clear afternoon an NVA battalion tried a probing attack and failed to get within 50 meters of the perimeter wire. The Marines had expected probing attacks, but they wondered at the NVA’s audacity in attempting it on such a clear day. The attack was beaten off with heavy NVA losses.
But the biggest story at Khe Sanh is found in the men who defend the valley fortress. Where all supplies must be brought in by air, it is natural that the niceties of life are missing. Home is a hole dug out of the turf and reinforced with sandbags. In the most part, it is an underground existence. The once sprawling complex of tropical huts and supporting buildings have long since been reduced to a common denominator-ground level.
One of the niceties missed by the Marines is abundance of water. Plenty to drink is the rule, but little for washing and shaving. The beard has come into its own. As voiced by one Marine quoting a musical refrain from another era, “We are dirty and we smell, but we fight like hell.”
The hum of activity at Khe Sanh grinds on endlessly. Acts of uncommon valor are commonplace . . . just part of the job. An artillery round hits on the airstrip. Four or five men are seen running out into the open to assess the damage even before the artillery barrage is lifted. They then rush back for materials and return to repair the damage on the airfield. This is just one of the innumerable jobs being done by the Seabees.
For the Marine, Army and Air Force pilots who resupply the Marine combat base the risks are great as enemy machine gun, rocket and artillery fire rakes the airstrip. In a normal cargo haul they touch their front wheels to the runway, a cargo release switch is pushed and a parachute floats out the open plane ramp, it inflates and the cargo is yanked off the plane as the pilot guns its engines and is off into the air again. Others air drop or land hurriedly to bring in reinforcements and extract the dead and the wounded.
When the cargo hits the airstrip, another group of courageous men go into action. These are members of Marine Shore Party Detachment. The exposed supplies must be moved at once to protect them from enemy fire and the strip must be cleared so other aircraft can land. Regardless of exploding shells, these men drive their forklifts onto the wide-open strip to pick up the cargo and then dart to protective embankments.
The gallantry of the crews manning the mortars and artillery pieces would be hard for anyone to envision who hasn’t witnessed them in action. It is their job, even in the middle of an enemy artillery barrage, to send their own projectiles against the enemy. Over the course of months, they have developed extreme skill that augments their high morale. It isn’t unusual to see the Marine gunners standing up on sandbag parapets surrounding their guns to cheer a particularly good shot and thumb their noses at the NVA.
Another group of Marines wave a “Maggie’s drawers” whenever the enemy misses their positions. (A Maggie’s drawers in Marine Corps rifle range lingo signifies a miss on target and is signaled by waving a red flag across the bull’s eye.)
The minute the enemy bombardment stops, the activity at Khe Sanh increases. Officers and NCOs are seen running from position to position to see if any of their men have been hurt, the endless work of bunker improvement goes on, men work on trenches and trucks make supply runs to replenish ammunition, food and water and sometimes a Marine finds time to remove his boots to air his feet . . . sometimes.
During a recent briefing at Phu Bai, the similarities between the former French fortress of Dien Bien Phu and Khe Sanh were expounded. MajGen. Willard Pearson, chief of staff, MACV (Forward), put it this way: “The greatest difference between the two is the fact that we have Marines at Khe Sanh!”
(Note: this article was originally published in Sea Tiger, Vol. 4, No. 11).