Vietnam: The Battle of the Ia Drang Valley. First Blood
On Saturday, November 13, 1965, the 1st Battalion, 7th Cavalry Regiment, was deployed to the area south-southwest of Plei Me. Lieutenant Colonel Moore established his command post in an old French fort—the colonialists established strongholds at strategic points that had only one drawback: remoteness and isolation from the main forces. The fort was triangular in shape and surrounded by a wall 6 to 8 feet high and approximately 90 yards long. However, the fortifications, abandoned for over a decade under the monsoon rains, were in less than perfect condition.
The 7th Regiment's camp at Plei Me, with the triangular French fort visible.
One company had to be sent to the Catecka plantation, where the French owners, the plantation's owners, continued to live in a colonial-style mansion. The Viet Cong left them alone, in exchange for a bribe of one million piastres a year. The plantation owners paid another three million in taxes to the Saigon government, and the US Army billed them $50 for each damaged tea bush and $250 for each rubber tree. The Americans established the 3rd Brigade headquarters in the mansion.
105 mm howitzer M102
Moore's battalion was tasked with conducting a search in the vicinity of the T'ypong mountain range (as Moore calls it; other sources spell it Chu-Pong), where, according to intelligence, large enemy forces were concentrated. Before the landing, the lieutenant colonel and Captain Matt Dillon conducted a reconnaissance flight, scouting out several landing sites for the main force, which they dubbed landing zones "Tango," "Yankee," and "X-Ray," and for the 12 105-mm howitzers of Batteries A and C of the 1st Battalion, 21st artillery The regiment found another site - the Falcon landing zone.
Particular attention was paid to coordinating the actions of the infantry and helicopters: both were relatively untested, and the Americans had no experience operating with an entire battalion. Therefore, the lieutenant colonel insisted on the pilots' participation in the briefings held at battalion headquarters. Sixteen "smooth" Huey transport helicopters were provided for the landing. The pilots had at least 700 hours of flight time, including as part of the expeditionary contingent sent to the Dominican Republic in mid-1965.
Bell UH-1 Huey
The helicopters arrived at the fort at 9:30 a.m. on November 14. Moore gathered the officers and gave a briefing: “Since Bravo Company is already assembled in one location and will be returning soon, they will become the assault company. Plan a ten-minute artillery barrage, followed by 30 seconds of airborne rocket artillery fire, followed by 30 seconds of gunship strafing. Bravo Company will deploy after the gunships fire. I will fly with Bravo Company in the main assault helicopter. Tell the commanders to stock their men with maximum ammunition, one MRE, and two canteens per man. That’s all for now. Any questions?” There were no questions.
Somewhere in the midst of this beauty, all this happened... The Tyypong mountain range
Interestingly, despite the maps captured in the hospital, Moore also had no precise information about the enemy. Intelligence provided only vague suggestions: perhaps a Viet Cong battalion was at the base of Thu Pong, two miles northwest of the landing zone; perhaps there was a secret base half a mile east of the landing zone... In short, the American cavalry rushed into battle, as at Little Bighorn—hoping for the best.
The battalion was suffering from a shortage of officers, not catastrophic, but a shortage of 20 out of 23 officers. However, the personnel situation was far more dire: Alpha Company was short 49 men, Bravo Company 50, Charlie Company 58, and Delta Company 42. Headquarters Company was also understaffed, and Moore had reassigned some of its personnel to the combat companies as medics and signalers. However, the lieutenant colonel had served in the Korean War and knew this was a common situation, and no commander would make allowances for such shortages. After all, they had managed somehow in Korea, hadn't they? Moore also held out hope that the enemy was no better off—the Vietnamese were constantly in combat, so they were bound to be short. The weather forecast was encouraging: clear skies and a full moon overnight guaranteed air support and normal operating conditions for a pair of 105mm howitzer batteries.
Pictured are 18 Hueys and one Chinook of the 7th Cavalry Regiment, 1965, Vietnam.
What was worse was that 16 Huey transports supported the landing of fewer than 80 men in the first wave. A one-way flight took an average of 15 minutes, so this incomplete company had to fight on its own for the first half hour. However, subsequent waves would land 90–100 men—the helicopters could carry more as fuel ran out. In total, landing the battalion would take around four hours—minimum. Because: a) the vehicles would have to refuel, and b) what if the landing zone was "hot" and the Gooks shot down one of the choppers?
Standing on the far right is Captain Thomas Metzker, the battalion's intelligence officer; on the far left is Sergeant Major Basil Plumley; to Metzker's left is Lieutenant Colonel Harold Moore.
Moore decided to fly in the first helicopter with Alpha Company commander Major Bruce Crandall, allowing him to personally survey the terrain from low altitude at the last minute and resolve any potential problems. Also in the first helicopter were Sergeant Major Plumley, Moore's radio operator, Private Robert Ouellette, Captain Thomas Metzker, the battalion intelligence officer, and an interpreter, a mountain man named Nick. The battalion command helicopter was to circle at 2500 feet above the landing zones, coordinating the work of all participants and maintaining communications with command.
Typically, the first wave of landing troops would establish a perimeter defense and form a perimeter into which reinforcements would flow, but Moore decided to take a different approach. The bulk of Bravo Company would assemble in the center as a reserve, and send out seven-man squads in each of four directions to scout the surrounding area. If one of them encountered the enemy, the rest of the company would be able to come to their aid.
But the Americans' enemy wasn't idle either. The future battlefield was roughly delineated, the local population was evicted, and training camps were built. Fortifications, underground warehouses, shelters, hospitals, and command posts were dug. By this point, the Viet Cong's primary characteristic had become meticulous planning of every element of a battle before it began. First, headquarters drew up battle plans, then they were shared with commanders and revised in accordance with their feedback. Once all the details were ironed out, grueling training began: every element of the future battle was practiced until it became automatic. And then the plan was executed.
Young Nguyen Huu An with his wife, he was already 39 years old at the time of the battle.
This issue was approached particularly carefully in the training of the 320th and 66th Regiments, which were to fight the Americans in the Ia Drang River valley: the units were fresh, having just arrived from the north, and their commanders were also new to the area. But they were not given the opportunity to conduct a normal course of training: the arrival of the cavalry forced the poorly prepared regiments into battle, which led to confusion, loss of communication, and significant losses. The Americans, who landed on November 3, destroyed numerous supply caches and the very same hospital. Forced to retreat, the regiments abandoned their heavy equipment. weapon, equipment, and communication lines. The base at Ts'u P'ong, where the Vietnamese retreated, was not particularly convenient logistically: every kilogram of rice and every round of ammunition took two days to deliver—the soldiers spent a day marching one way, and then another day the next morning returning. It was on the slopes of Ts'u P'ong that Senior Colonel Nguyen Huu An, deputy commander of the B-3 front, set up his command post.
This officer entered the war in the fall of 1945 and rose through the ranks, from private to regimental commander and beyond. His regiment captured Elian 1 Hill near Dien Bien Phu and then held it against French attacks. After the end of the First Indochina War, he became a staff officer, subsequently taking command of the 35th Division, and also commanded the 1st and 308th Divisions. He would later head the General Military Academy of the DRV. In the campaign on the Ia Drang River (it is probably more correct to write "on the Drang River," since "Ia" is "river" in Vietnamese, but if the battle entered history (Like the "battle on the Ya Drang River," so be it.) He set the goal of his troops not to hold territory, but to destroy enemy forces. Therefore, he first attacked Plei Me, trying to lure the Arvin units into the field, and then the Americans who came to their aid. Therefore, one battalion was deployed in the attack on Plei Me, and four in the ambush of the Southerners and their American allies, with the sixth battalion held in reserve.
Field telephone EE-8
However, the ambush plan failed (or failed as intended), and the regiments returned to their base in Thu Pong, where they planned to rest and regroup. The 320th Regiment was in fairly good shape, but the 33rd had suffered heavy losses both during the operation and during the retreat: all 18 12,7mm machine guns and 11 mortars were lost, and no more than a company remained of the 1st Battalion. Therefore, An received reinforcements: 900 men to replace the losses in the existing regiments and the 66th Regiment, which had not participated in the previous battles. Thus, three regiments of the regular DRV Army were concentrated at the base in Thu Pong. In addition, General Man called up 600 veterans from the H-15 Battalion of the Viet Cong Regional Forces, who were living in the Ia Drang Valley. The base was well prepared for the deployment of troops: wide paths, hidden from aerial observation, had been cut through the jungle, training areas and shelters, large stocks of rice, peanuts, salt and vegetable oil, tons of ammunition, weapons, EE-8 field telephones (American - Lend-Lease!) and cable for them were concentrated in warehouses covering an area of a square mile.
Operational plan for the X-Ray and Falcon landing zones (and others, but more on that later)
On the morning of November 14, the 1st Battalion, 7th Cavalry Regiment, was preparing to land in the Thu Pong Ridge area. Captain Matt Dillon reported radio intercept data to Moore. The coded message was undecipherable, but the approximate location of the transmitter was pinpointed. "Approximate" means the Americans were able to determine that the transmission originated somewhere along a line from Plei Me to the foothills of the Thu Pong Mountains. The intelligence lieutenant believed a Vietnamese regiment could be stationed somewhere there.
So, just in case, Moore flew another reconnaissance sortie: to assess which of the landing zones designated on the map—codenamed "Tango," "Yankee," and "X-Ray"—was best suited for the battalion's deployment. The choice fell on X-Ray: Yankee was a mile south of the operational area, but the site could accommodate six Hueys. Tango was more conveniently located—in the middle of the valley and closer to the river—but could only accommodate three helicopters, and it was a "well"—a clearing surrounded by very tall trees. Only X-Ray could accommodate eight helicopters at once, and the trees around its perimeter weren't very tall.
The H-13, familiar from Korea, was also used in Vietnam...
It's not as if Moore had no doubts about LZ X-Ray: he asked Captain Rickard, the commander of the 1st Squadron's reconnaissance section, to send a pair of small H-13 helicopters on a low-flying reconnaissance mission to scout the potential landing zone. When the scouts returned, they reported that LZ X-Ray could indeed accommodate eight to ten helicopters, but north of it, they spotted a telephone cable running east to west along a trail. This suited the lieutenant colonel, since his mission was to find enemy soldiers. The only thing he didn't know was that LZ X-Ray was surrounded by three battalions of the 66th Regiment of the People's Army of Vietnam stationed there—the most vigorous and freshest of all of Senior Colonel An's forces...
At 8:50 a.m., Moore gave the order to his company commanders on the Plei Me airfield runway: Bravo Company and the battalion command group, including the lieutenant colonel himself, would be the first to land. Next would come Alpha, Charlie, and Delta. After landing, Bravo and Charlie would move northwest, Charlie southwest toward the mountain, Delta would guard the mortars, and the reconnaissance and machine gun platoons would hold back. To mislead the enemy before landing, artillery shelled the Tango and Yankee zones for eight minutes, followed by 20 minutes of shelling on X-Ray and the surrounding area. After that, airlifters would fire for 30 seconds. missile Installations and, thirty seconds later, fire support helicopters. The battalion's rear command post was set up in Landing Zone Falcon, along with artillery batteries. A medical station and supply point were also set up there. The first batch of GIs was scheduled to land at 10:30 a.m. on November 14, 1965.
The landing in the "X-Ray" zone is pathetic, as the picture shows...
Problems began almost immediately! The artillery was delayed in landing and reported that it wouldn't be able to open fire until 10:17. All other deadlines were pushed back accordingly. Finally, 16 Hueys, raising clouds of red dust, took off and headed west. The helicopters' side ports were open, and they flew at an altitude of 2000 feet to reduce the risk of being shot down by small arms fire. Each of the four flights of four transport vehicles formed a "left wedge," while the four attack helicopters flew in pairs: on the flanks of the formation, slightly ahead.
It was a cool morning, with a low fog. Four miles from LZ X-Ray, the vehicles dropped to treeline level, speeding at 110 mph, scaring the nesting birds. A command helicopter flew overhead, from which Captain Dillon adjusted artillery fire and stood ready to call a halt when the Hueys and landing party arrived. Artillery shelled the perimeter of the landing zone: if the enemy had set up an ambush, it would certainly not be in the open. Finally, the helicopters touched down, and Lieutenant Colonel Moore, commanding "Let's go!", was the first to jump to the ground, M-16 in hand. The time was 10:48, and the battle in the Ia Drang Valley had begun.
...and in reality
The first eight helicopters were airborne within 10 seconds of landing: Moore's training of his cavalrymen had paid off—the landing was smooth. The GIs ran forward, firing in bursts, "rock 'n' roll," as the Army slang put it, but there was no resistance—the valley was empty. A dry streambed, termite mounds, chest-high grass, the overhanging slopes of the Tshu Pong Ridge—10 miles away, the Ho Chi Minh Trail turned from Laos into South Vietnam. LZ X-Ray was a 100-meter-long, funnel-shaped clearing with a 90-meter-wide mouth at the western edge, next to a dry stream. A 45-meter-wide entrance was located at the eastern edge of the clearing, and in the center was a small grove of stunted trees. What do you remember? Well, Dien Bien Phu was also a tiny spot surrounded by forested mountains...
Incidentally, Moore himself understood this perfectly well: before leaving for Vietnam, he had studied the experience of his predecessors. Therefore, the silence after the landing was quite unnerving for the "Old Man." So, to save time waiting for the remaining companies to land, he ordered a sweep of the area around the clearing. There was no enemy. At least, none visible; Senior Colonel An couldn't miss such a noisy thing as a helicopter landing. He later told Moore: "When you landed your troops in the X-Ray zone, I was on Mount Ts'upong. We had a very strong position and a strong mobile command group. We were assembled, ready, and waiting for you to appear. The only question remained: when. Trees and bushes obscured our view of the helicopter landings, but we had an observation post on the mountaintop, and it reported both the landing of your troops and their movements."
Lieutenant Colonel Harold Moore examines a dead Vietnamese soldier. The Americans had cameras with them, and reporter Joe Galloway was present, so there are many photos from their side. Unlike the Vietnamese...
Soon, Sergeant John W. Mingo brought back a prisoner—a Vietnamese soldier caught off guard and unable to escape from Mingo, a Korean War veteran. But was he really a soldier? According to the lieutenant colonel's description, he was ragged, had a wild look in his eyes, and carried no weapons, ammunition, or documents, and there was no water in his canteen. Nevertheless, during interrogation, he claimed there were three battalions in the nearby mountains who were eager to kill Americans. Helicopters soon returned, delivering the second half of Bravo Company, as well as Alpha's third platoon and Captain Tony Nadal's command group. Now there were 175 GIs in the clearing against 1600 Vietnamese soldiers around the landing zone.
At the X-Ray landing zone
Moore now saw it as his task to extend the perimeter as far from the clearing as possible—to be able to receive reinforcements by helicopter relatively safely—so he sent Bravo Company to sweep the mountain slopes. At 12:10, the third cavalry party arrived, and Moore ordered Alpha Company to organize the clearing's defense and to send some of its forces to assist Bravo Company. And at 12:15, the first shots rang out—Vietnamese battalions were approaching the landing zone.
Captain John Herren, commander of Bravo Company, radioed his platoon commanders to assemble at the creek bed for an attack toward the mountain. An 81mm mortar would support the attack, with 40 rounds allocated. Four GI platoons advanced through the elephant grass and brush: Lieutenant Al Devney's 1st Platoon in the lead, Henry Herrick's 2nd Platoon to the right and slightly behind, followed by the 3rd and 4th Platoons. Staff Sergeant Carl Burton, commander of 3rd Squad, 1st Platoon, was the first to spot the Vietnamese. The enemy soldiers descended the mountain in single file, shouldering their weapons and oblivious to their opponents. The Americans opened fire first, but soon found themselves under fire from AK-47s as 1st Platoon was outflanked and pinned down by heavy fire. Soon, the platoon's first wounded man appeared: according to Lieutenant Dennis Deal, a bullet struck him either in the neck, or in the mouth, or both. He clutched his rifle and, dumbfounded, asked his officers what to do. Sergeant Jim Jakes attempted to render aid, but soon received a bullet in his own side.
Lieutenant Henry Herrick, played by Marc Blucas, I couldn't find a real photo of this... hero...
The 2nd Platoon was sent to assist the 1st Platoon. It was commanded by the young and aggressive Lieutenant Henry Herrick, but the platoon had experienced sergeants, including Korean War veteran Staff Sergeant Paul Hurdle, the weapons section commander. Meanwhile, RPG-2s, as well as 60mm and 82mm mortars, began hitting Devney's platoon. It was 1:15 PM, and the airwaves were filled with shouts of demands. aviation and artillery support.
Soon, Herrick reported spotting a squad of enemy soldiers and beginning their pursuit: the zealous lieutenant had successfully botched his mission to support his comrades from the 1st Platoon. Captain Herrick, seeing this, sent Lieutenant Dennis Deal's 3rd Platoon to assist Devney. Deal was also an inexperienced commander, only two weeks into his tenure, but he, too, had experienced sergeants—Korea veterans—serving under him, and his weapons squad leader was a Seneca Indian, Wilbur Curry, the best machine gunner in the division.
When 3rd Platoon approached 50 meters from 1st Platoon's left flank, it also came under heavy fire: the Vietnamese also had a very good machine gunner. Soon, mortar shells began flying in. Deal later recalled: "I turned to Sergeant Curry and said, 'Chief, I've never been shot at before. Does it sound like that?' He smiled and said, 'Yes, sir, that's exactly what it sounds like. They're shooting at us.'"
Every decision in combat has a price. Bad decisions have a very high price. Lieutenant Herrick, chasing several Vietnamese, made a classic decision, and now his platoon was paying for it. 2nd Platoon had broken away from the company and was heading into the jungle along a well-worn forest trail. The nature of the trail itself might have indicated to a more cautious commander that it was frequently used, but Herrick confidently led Sergeant McHenry's first squad. The GIs soon lost contact with the Vietnamese, but continued along the trail. The platoon soon encountered a dry riverbed, which they crossed, finding themselves in the open. Herrick's two squads had not yet crossed the riverbed and were separated from their commander by a termite mound when the two lead squads found themselves confronted by 40-50 Vietnamese rushing toward the sound of gunfire.
A good machine gunner is worth his weight in gold!
Both sides immediately began firing at each other with all their weapons. Herrick ordered the lagging squads to circle around the termite nest and attack from the flank. The surprise attack seemed to stun the Vietnamese, but soon an even larger group of "gooks" emerged from the jungle. The platoon commander radioed that he was under attack from both flanks. Captain Herrick ordered a return to join up with 1st Platoon, but it was too late; the platoon, separated from the rest of the units, found itself surrounded. Two M-60 machine guns saved the situation, but they could only hold back the Vietnamese attacks; the platoon was unable to break out of the encirclement on its own.
All the delights of battle in the Ya Drang Valley
Moore later recalled that he'd never heard such intense fire in his life. Captain Herren, however, had misjudged the enemy forces attacking 2nd Platoon: he counted only two companies, when in reality there was a battalion there. When Bravo Company's commander reported the situation, the lieutenant colonel, whose battalion hadn't even fully landed in the X-Ray zone yet, had only one word to describe the situation: "Shit!" A remarkably accurate assessment!
Information