Narratives From 881S...

Corporal Dennis M. Mannion Remembers...

I was actually assigned to the artillery battery C/1/13, but was attached out as the artillery FO to Kilo 3/26.  The FO job was an officer’s billet, but with a shortage of officers in late 1967, I got the job even though I was just a PFC at the start of my tour.  I always think of myself as a Kilo guy because  I spent less than two weeks with my parent artillery unit and that was back in Khe Sanh when I first arrived in-country (Mid Sept '67).  Khe Sanh was real quiet then; they had not taken a round of incoming or even sniper fire since July!  After 12 days at Khe Sanh, I was sent to Camp Evans and Kilo.  I was the only enlisted FO in the battalion.  Normally, the team is a Lieutenant, an enlisted "scout," and a radioman.  I lost my PFC grade after my first month with Kilo as I was promoted from L/Cpl to Cpl in a twenty-four hour period.

My first time to set foot on 881s was on or about the 19th of Dec '67.  Kilo was heli-lifted to 881S, and we set off with the other companies in the battalion for a 5 day sweep west towards Hill 918 near the Laotian border.  It was real spooky out there, and had we gotten into heavy contact, the only arty support available would have been the three 105’s on 881s!

My second visit to 881s was the 12th of April '68 when Kilo was lifted from Hill 861 to Hill 881S.  I will always remember my arrival there because of the naked, “where-can-I-hide feeling” that reverberated through me as I scrambled down the helicopter’s rear ramp and into a nearby trench line.  I had left the relative security of my deep-in-the-earth, 4-man bunker on 861, and now all I could do was move along the trench line essentially following the Marine in front of me.  At some short distance from where I jumped into the trench, I came across the acrid smell of cordite, freshly turned earth, and blood.  The floor and walls were covered with skin tissue, blood, and bone fragments.  Our group halted momentarily, and I watched as flies began arriving and settling on the human remains that had just been blasted into the earth.  There was a lot of scrambling around to find bunkers and overhead cover.

PFC Ralph Wayne, (a Navajo Indian and my radio operator) and I managed to scrounge an old, somewhat small, barely functioning bunker, but it did not provide much protection.  It was really terrifying to leave the relative comforts of 861 only to be deposited onto a new and totally unfamiliar landscape without the relative security of my 861 bunker which slept four and was fifteen feet underground.

Very near where Ralph Wayne and I found a "home," was a downed CH-46.  Late in the afternoon of that day, Ralph and I took a "tour" of the 46.  It had been cleaned out of weapons, ammo, flares, etc.  We sat in the pilots seats and used our John Wayne P-38 can openers to unscrew the clock and compass from the instrument panel. It took hours.  Ralph got the compass and I got the clock.  I had that clock for years; it was made by some company in Waltham, Mass.  Sorry, we were just kids in those days.  I hope that didn't mess up the maintenance people too much when the bird was lifted out and repaired.

That evening, I remember going to a pre-881N assault briefing in what I took to be the main bunker on the hill.  All the company officers, Staff NCO's, air reps, arty reps, and senior corpsmen, were in attendance.  The following night, around midnight, we left 881S for the Easter Sunday attack of Hill 881N.

Two years ago (July 2000), Bob Arrotta, Glenn Prentice, Paul Knight and I returned to Vietnam.  We took a side trip to Hill 681 and it was a thrill to find my original bunker from 1968!  Some of the group spent the night on 861, but terrible wind and rains forced us off the hill and back to the Khe Sanh ville.  A day later, I went back to 861 by myself (a three hour hike) and for about 5 hours on July 11, 2000 it was just me up on 861 with the wind, the mist, the memories, the history, and the ghosts.  The only down side to this trip was that we were arrested by the local Military Commander as possible spies or smugglers.  Passports were confiscated and we spent four days under house arrest.  Glenn called a business friend in Hanoi, as well as his Congressman, and we were released after paying a $40.00 fine!!

01-15-03

Was sent to Dong Ha when I arrived in Vietnam on August 26, 1967.  Was a bit miffed about this since I had been trained on 8 inch self-propelled artillery which were then at Cam Lo.  Was assigned to C/1/12 as the NCOIC of a 105mm Howitzer section.  Had to learn this job in short order.  As I only had 10 months left on my enlistment in the Marine Corps, developed a bit of anger for being placed in a position I was not trained for and this did not serve me well in C/1/12.  Therefore, I thought being transferred to C/1/13 on Hill 881S was a much better assignment until all hell broke lose, then I wished to be back in the relative "safety" of C/1/12.

Now I am very proud to have served with the Marines on Hill 881S.  I must say the best officers and men the Marine Corps had to offer came together on that small hill in Vietnam.  It's strange how things seem to work out.  I have no regrets, just a whole lot of pride.

Sergeant Robert L. Miller Remembers

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09-08-02

I Remember the First Supergaggle.

As I recall it was a nice day on the hill.  The fog had burned off early that morning, and the jets had come in.  Man they were working out hot and heavy around 881S and 861 dropping 500 pounders, 250 pounders, napalm, and smoke.  Like most Marines on the hill I just sat back and watched the "air show" -- not the smartest thing to do but, it made me feel better knowing that the NVA were getting some pay back.

Up to that point I had plenty to worry about i.e., incoming, low on food and water, firing missions day and night, low on ammo, digging in, wounded Marines and the flat tires on our 105s.  The gun crews tired, sick and hungry.

After the smoke was laid down I looked over toward Khe Sanh, saw a bunch of CH-46s coming with cargo nets hanging under them.  Man when they came in, they dropped supplies all over that hill, wow what a show. It only took a few seconds for a bird to come then another one, then another, another.  Then they got the hell out of there as fast as they could. After that we humped supplies all day on into the night.  But, we didn't mind, cause we had food, water, ammo, and mail.  I think the NVA went into shock, they changed there ways after that.  Thanks Marines (helicopter crews), you saved our butts that day!

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02-24-02

I remember well the aspects of being a Section Leader for one of the 105mm howitzers on the hill.  After a few days in January and many of our 105 crewmen being wounded, I was the only Sergeant left on the guns.  With my 105 being located on the north side of the hill it was a favorite target for the NVA gunners located on Hill 881N.  My gun crew seemed to be fearless because they stood there and fired missions, both direct and indirect, even when we were receiving incoming.  We always had flat tires which made it very difficult, and time consuming, to move that heavy thing around.  Recall that Lt. Biondo, who was constantly on my butt for being slow getting ready to fire, sent Lt. Crenshaw over to help us shift on one occasion to no avail.  After that Lt. Biondo was a bit more understanding.  Got new tires ever so often but they didn't last long.

I remember being hurt to see young Marines going through the dump looking for old rusty C-rations such as ham&mf's, jelly, crackers, etc.  What else could they do?  They were hungry, and had to survive when the weather kept our resupply birds on the ground.

I remember a chopper coming in about dusk one evening and for some reason there were oranges scattered all over the LZ near our gun.  Of course the chopper didn't stay long, and when it left my Marines scoffed up most of the oranges before telling the grunts about them.  To this day I am sorry we didn't share more of them with others.

There were times that I didn't think even God was on our side.  Now that I reflect back on how we made it with those determined enemy gunner's rounds coming in on us, I realize God was watching over us.

The proudest day of my life on Hill 881S, and I am sure I speak for my gunners, was when Capt. Dabney walked up to us and said, "You guys on that gun have got big balls, you fire regardless of what's going on."

Epilogue to Oranges in the LZ

03-21-02

Colonel Dabney, after reading the above, submits a bit more information about the oranges in the LZ.

"What Robert doesn't know, and didn't know then, was that there were several crates of oranges dumped from several hovering helicopters into the zone.  Remember how orange crates are constructed, not very durable, and when they hit the ground they all broke open.  Damn oranges were all over India's hill.  Robert and his 105 crews got their share, but so did grunts.  Don't think many made it over to Mike.  But for some unknown reason those of us in the COC didn't received even one orange.  Whole drill lifted our spirits for a while.  As soon as it got dark so it was safe,  troops were crawling all over the hill looking for them - for three nights!  Like toddlers on an Easter egg hunt.

As with ice cream event, we appreciated Purple Foxes' efforts, and at least troops could still eat the oranges if they could find 'em!  Not so the

ice cream.  India Six Actual, Out."

All these years I thought that arty had gotten away with something, but as usual the skipper (Bill) was on to us all along.  He just added more funny to my oranges on the hill story.  Thanks skipper.

The Forgotten Helmet

By MasterSergeant Gary L. Riley, USMC (Ret)

Upon arriving at the Khe Sanh Combat Support Base in late 1967 as a Private First Class, I would wear my helmet and flak jacket constantly.  Other Marines would laugh at me because it was relatively quiet then, prior to "The Tet Offensive."  Early in 1968, I was transferred to THE HILL, Hill 881 South!  The helmet/flak jacket attire for me was constant, the laughter continued!

As the month of January progressed, the incoming of rockets and mortars commenced.  One day while messing around on the LZ, which was about the highest point of the hill, I began talking to a young Marine of about the same age as I was.  I remember he was a Marine with blond hair with blue eyes.  I think he was with the shore party platoon, they directed (w/hand signals) the landing of the helicopters providing the hill logistical support.  That particular day, he asked me if I wanted to learn, w/hand signals, how to bring the choppers in for landing.  I stated yes!  He said for me to meet him on the LZ the following day  whenever I heard the incoming chopper(s).  The next day, during the morning I think, I was in the FDC bunker and for some reason, did not have my helmet on.  The Officer in Charge and I heard the rotors of the incoming Chopper.  He instructed me to go up and check for incoming mail.  Now with his permission I had a good excuse to go to the LZ, for mail and to learn a new technique.   I happily ran out of the bunker up toward the LZ.  Before arriving to the top ( LZ), I had realized that I forgot my helmet.  I immediately return to the bunker to retrieve the helmet.

Upon returning toward the LZ, and just before reaching the top of the small hill, there were multiple thunderous explosions on the LZ.  As I arrived on the LZ,  there appeared to be at least 20 Marines on the ground, deceased or severely wounded.  Matter of fact, I remember seeing only one Marine standing (maybe a senior enlisted) I just don't remember.  He was administering aid to one Marine.  He screamed at me to help someone, you see, I was stunned!  I immediately regain my whereabouts and commenced what I knew from aid training.  The first person I assisted, incidentally, was the young Marine who was going to show me how to bring the chopper in for landing.  He was face down in the prone position.  I immediately attempted to administer first aid.  He could only moan.  He was struck by shrapnel in the face and I believe in the upper torso also, a tremendous amount of blood!  Very little I could do to comfort him, because there were so many Marines needing assistance.  I did wrap a bandage to his face and attempted to comfort him with what little words I could muster in that situation.  As I was leaving him to go to others, I looked back to see what I thought was a Corpsman who was arriving on top of the hill to provide assistant.  I also remembered, after I arrived up on the LZ, the supply chopper that had received shrapnel during landing, was attempting to regain altitude.  However, it sputtered and crash landed just outside of our southern lines.  I remember seeing a pilot jump out of the downed chopper and he ran safely back to our perimeter.  I also remember, that later during that day, we transferred the deceased Marines to the downed chopper, which was being used as a temporary morgue, no other choppers were coming in, due to the hazardous conditions.

Fast forward, somewhere, around 1990-91, I was walking around the (at that time) San Diego Miramar Naval Air Station Exchange's (Book Store Area), there I noticed a paper back, titled "The End of The Line" - "The Siege of Khe Sanh, publisher Robert Pisor.  I purchased the book and a couple of days later I begin to read the book. As I reach page 106, the last paragraph of that page caused a chill up and down my spine. You see, it was a short description of the events that had occurred that eventful day on the LZ.  I was there and forgetting my helmet probably saved my life!!

Sadly though, I do not remember the name of the  young Marine I'd befriended.  The thoughts in my mine of that day are constant and I will always wonder if he survived.

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This page was last updated: August 16, 2008