|
|
|
Vietnam
Artillery Stories
| ||||||||||||||||||||
|
Outgoing Freight! |
![]() |
|
Photo credit: |
|
|
8-inch Howitzer of B Battery, 7th Bn/15th FA in full recoil at RSB Schueller, 1971 |
The lean, intense captain, a veteran of 26 months
in Vietnam, commands Battery C, 7th Battalion, 8th Artillery. "It is so
good," he continued, "that in one case when we had to help out some friendlies
that were about to be overrun by the Viet Cong, we were able to fire within 40 yards of
the defensive bunkers in which the allies were protected. Charlie never got to the
bunkers."
The battery of the "Automatic Eighth" is just one of several composite gun units, able in a matter of a couple hours to convert from an all 175mm configuration to all 8 inch howitzers -- or any combination in between.
"This helps us confuse Charlie," Captain Marsano explained. "We're pretty mobile -- in fact we were traveling 80 miles a day for a while. But we might travel with our self-propelled units configured as 8 inchers. Charlie knows the range to the millimeter, so he may stay just out of our 8 inch range. But we change to 175mm tubes after arriving at our destination. Then we can hit him easily when he least expects."
The big guns have been slugging it out with North Vietnamese artillery and Viet Cong rockets for some time. The guns move often, when they need to. Charlie battery has been moved from the Delta to Bear Cat to Bien Hoa within a matter of weeks. Other units, such as Charlie battery, 5th Battalion, 22nd Artillery, moved from Dak To to Kontum to a firebase near the Cambodian border in a few months.
Corporal Roy Melton, a crew chief in Captain Marsano's outfit, typified the pride in his unit. "We can get our gun ready to fire in well under a minute, once we know there's a mission. But because of firing restrictions, we might not be able to go as soon as we're ready."
Those restrictions? A friendly "spooky" gunship flying in an area which may be hazardous if the guns spoke. Safety restrictions, to see that friendly forces are clear of an area in which the big gun's shells will impact.
"The key word is safety," says Captain Marsano. "This outfit has fired 55,000 rounds without an incident, and it is simply because we adhere to strict safety standards."
Information from the Fire Direction Center to the guns is provided by one set of personnel, repeated back by others, thus insuring coordinates are clearly understood, and that no one man makes an error. Even the FADAC -- the computer that provides fantastically accurate firing data -- is double checked, as men manually plot firing missions.
"Every little thing has a bearing on safety.
Ear plugs are nice, for example," said the battery commander. "But
our gunners don't wear them when working on the guns. The plugs are a hazard to
hearing vital instructions. When the gun is going to fire the gunbunnies cover their
ears instead."
Gunbunnies are cannoneers.
There's a lot of talk between gun crews about who's doing the better work... so much, that in many gun units the competition is played down. Such is the case in Charlie battery.
"Sure competition is good, but it might not be safe, and therein is the problem," Captain Marsano explained. "That little extra effort to get more speed might make that numeral 7 into a 9 -- and that spells wrong target. Or short cuts in preparing powder charges can cause problems. So safety is our big 'thing'."
The gunners look at it another way too.
"We're part of a team, and we can work
together till we're doin' it just right," said one of Corporal Melton's crew.
"The worst thing that can happen is one of us being moved to another battery of
smaller guns, but its just about as bad to have to switch gun crews or platoons.
But working with the guys you know helps you realize the need for doing things
right."
Its just another way of being safe.
And so, the big guns speak out regularly -- on intelligence firing missions, or on time-on-target firings. But when they speak, it is with authority: CAR... RUMP!
"Shot!" hollers the gunner. The hustle to put out the next round begins.
The following story, "Foxtrot Oscar", appeared in
the December 1969 TYPHOON magazine.
By PVT Gerhard Bartmann
The battle begins in the jungle, the thickly-canopied mountains where instinct and cunning provide keys to survival. The enemy thrives here. All others trespass.
American infantrymen lumber through in search of the foe. When the enemy is detected, one man's voice relays their location to an artillery firebase. Immediately, the artillerymen behind the tubes of the large guns on the hill miles from the enemy receive the order of "Fire mission!".
Within minutes, the battle ends in the jungle. The shrapnel, blast and shock of a heavy round kills or scatters the enemy.
The successful outcome of battles as violent and real as this hinges on the knowledge, initiative, and finesse of the Forward Observer (FO) on patrol with the infantry. The artillery FO, wheter accompanying a squad, platoon, or company must know where both he and the enemy are to correctly direct the artillerymen to the enemy. In battle, where life and death could be manipulated by seconds, he must coordinate rapidly and accurately. In emergencies, he must be able to function in place of a dead or wounded infantrymen--from the commander to an M16-toting young private. As one company commander indicated: "On patrol, Foxtrot Oscar (FO) is just one more man. But once we make contact with Charlie, he's a mighty valuable man to have around."
The platoon of weary soldiers from the lst Battalion, 50th Mechanized Infantry, slipped cautiously along a narrow trail winding parallel with a plummeting mountain creek. Stoic faces instinctively pivoted left and right for signs of the enemy.
Days of plodding through the prickly undergrowth, scouting ravines, straining up mountains, and watching mud-caked boots pounding out the rhythm of marching time showed: sweat-flushed faces, scratched hands, and torn fatigue pants. Ahead loomed yet another steep hill. As the recon platoon neared a bend in the trail, the first shot screamed through the trees. A second later a barrage of bullets ricocheted around the infantrymen who had walked into a VC ambush. Instinctively the men of the platoon retaliated with an unrelenting volley of M60 and M16 fire. While the platoon fought back, the "Foxtrot Oscar," a young San Franciscan from the 5th Battalion, 27th Artillery, yanked a wrinkled contour map from his pocket. The FO, First Lieutenant John G. Frank, studied it for an instant, glanced at the hillside and the flash of the enemy weapons, surmised their location, and plucked the radio receiver from his RTO's hand.
"Hotel Top, Hotel Top, this is Echo Palace," droned Lieutenant Frank into the receiver. "We're receiving fire from Charlie. Plot grid four-three niner five. Bring it down in intervals and fast. How's your copy?" When a voice in the Fire Direction Center (FDC) of an artillery firebase several hilltops away acknowledged and repeated the coordinates, 23-year-old Lieutenant Frank responded "Roger transmission," dropped the receiver, and began firing his rifle at the enemy several hundred yards away.
Suddenly an eerie "WWHHOOOEEE" whistled through the air. A flash and convulsive earth shudder followed immediately. Pausing briefly to watch the dust cloud settle, the infantrymen resumed firing as now only sporadic shots from the slope whirred past them. Seconds later another blast shook the ground, and then another. The firing stopped as the platoon began maneuvering up the hill after a fifth round silenced the enemy. Lieutenant Frank again picked up the radio receiver and relayed the message: "Nice job. We're on our way up to see what's left. Thanks again. Foxtrot Oscar, out!"
Lieutenant John Frank, Charlie Company, 1/50th Infantry Forward Observer, is one of hundreds of Foxtrot Oscars operating with American, ARVN, Mobile Strike Force, and Regional-Popular Force ground units throughout the Republic of Vietnam. Neither representative nor non-representative of other FO s, Lieutenant Frank summed up his role in providing infantrymen with. artillery support: "My job, the job of any FO is to communicate with the commander in the field. I can suggest something that I think might work. But it's his option to take or leave what I recommend. More often than not he listens. The main thing though, he supplied as an afterthought, "is to keep the guy in the field alive. That's what we think of when they need support fast. Stay alive."
Short, dark-haired, and wearing an almost constant smile, Lieutenant Frank commented that "The FO's job, according to some people, is supposed to be a breeze. They think that we've got it easier than others. They don't realize that we've got to hump as much gear and walk as far as the guys we're with." Formerly a Shakespearean actor and singer in New York and San Francisco, Lieutenant Frank continued: "Other people can screw up out there, but if we ever make a mistake, not only our own lives, but the lives of dozens of guys we're out there with could be lost."
To prepare an FO for tackling the responsibility and knowledge of his mission in Vietnam, candidates for an FO's credentials must first pass a two-week Fire Direction Officer and Forward Observer school located in An Khe. FO candidates review old knowledge, build from it, and develop finesse in the tightly scheduled classes. The test ending the course consists of field simulated maneuvers in which the trainees pinpoint targets and locations and finally call in artillery.
The final test, the first real test, however, occurs perhaps a week, several weeks or even months later, when, in the grip of combat, an FO calls in his first round. . .
The 21-year-old PFC crouched between several Spec-4s sergeants. Opposite him in the crowded chopper, sat the platoon leader. The chopper flying inland from Phan Thiet was in the middle of a three slick formation. A platoon from Alpha Company, 1/50th, were to search an area where a helicopter had crashed and return with the survivors. The mid-afternoon sun, brilliant and unrelenting, shone on the PFC's face. Private First Class Doug Osborne, Norfolk, Neb., Alpha Company's newest FO, felt queezy but appeared calm. He had only been with the company for two weeks, had been on patrol before, but had not yet called in artillery.
The choppers landed one by one in a small clearing at the edge of a succession of hills. As the last of the platoon made their way from the clearing into the thickly vegetated forest, PFC Osborne studied his map and pulled out a compass. Not only did the platoon leader rely on him for a double check on their position, Osborne wanted to know where he was heading.
After an hour's march through the jungle in the sweltering heat, the platoon reached the site of the crash. All the crew and the passengers were shaken, some injured, but alive.
The pilot had made an emergency landing in a small clearing when his engines faltered. While the platoon's medic treated the wounded and prepared litters, a small squad conducted a cursory reconnaissance sweep of the crash site vicinity. Osborne and his RTO accompanied the patrol. They fought through heavy foliage for 15 minutes until one man sighted a platoon of pithhelmeted and sandaled enemy.
PFC Osborne confidently radioed an artillery battery atop a hill miles away, and, within minutes after clearance was granted, the shattering reverberations of the rounds -- direct on target -- shook through the forest. Several hours later, when the 1/50th platoon returned with the downed helicopter crew and the tension of awaiting his first fire mission order passed, Osborne, in his calm, sonorous voice recalled his feelings. "At first I was scared as hell, but once you get used to the responsibility and the fear-- well you can't let it bother you anymore. Too many guys depend on you for help. You just have to shove apprehension away and do the job."
Because of the shortage of trained officers, forward observers, normally requiring an officer's authority, must be recruited from among enlisted men. Volunteers such as Osborne, while remaining enlisted men, work like their officer counterparts charged with the same responsibilities. They become FOs for varied reasons.
"I guess the reason I volunteered to go to FO school," explained Osborne, "is because they promised me rank. Well, no that's not all of it. I heard that they needed somebody because there weren't enough FOs. I was cooped up in some FDC bunker in the rear, and frankly I wanted to get out for a while. So I thought, why not? And I don't regret that decision . . . "
Harboring the dream of becoming a professional baseball player, Osborne exudes the leadership quality and attitude in both combat or the frivolity of volleyball. As one commander put it: "We've had three lieutenant FOs and now Doug. I'd be hard-pressed rating them. Osborne's got the attitude that will make him succeed in anything he does."
During rests from patrols, forward observers are too busy preparing for the next operation to unwind. Before a sweep, patrol, or reconnaissance operation in which artillery support would be available, myriad details confront the FO: establish frequencies for communication, determine clearance necessary in the area of operations, find out about the range of artillery support, and study maps.
Responsibility is meted out to those willing to accept it and who demonstrate a capacity to cope successfully with it. In the pendulum of battle, Foxtrot Oscar, whether he is a young PFC or a lieutenant with a college degree, bears the responsibility of the foe's death and the friend's life.
Battles begin in the jungle. By helping to assure that battles end in the jungle, the artillery FO
provides the trespasser with a way home and allows the jungle to keep the foe.
The following story appeared in the August 1969 TYPHOON
Firebase 6
Fighting the War From a Hill
The snap of a twig 10 meters from the barbed-wire perimeter was the only warning. The ears of one of the Mobile Strike Force Montagnards on guard perked at the sound of movement a few feet away. In the evening drizzle atop Firebase 6 in the Central Highlands the men of Bravo Battery, 1st Battalion of First Field Force's 92nd Artillery were asleep, their guns quiet. The mist-enshrouded hill is usually tranquil at night, unless a late-evening fire mission shatters that silence with a thunderous volley of rounds from steaming gun tubes.
But within seconds after the accidental warning reached the guard's ears, the calm of the night air erupted with noise as the first of several satchel charges landed inside the perimeter and exploded. Roused from their sleep, the artillerymen scrambled from sand-bagged bunkers to their 155mm howitzers through a barrage of small arms fire. Setting the howitzers at nearly maximum elevation to drop the rounds on the hillside just beyond the perimeter, the artillerymen began firing. While the Montagnards manned the perimeter bunkers, holding off the VC sapper squad's attack, the Americans on the hill fired round after round at the enemy. One young soldier from the Mobile Strike Force blazed at the enemy with an M-60 machinegun which he fired from his hip while another young defender provided him with ammo. "He didn't look like he was over 12 years old," said Sergeant Terry Klingel, Edwardsville, IL, a section chief of one gun crew. "He was determined not to let anyone in past his position."
Before the night was over, the enemy retreated leaving 36 bodies in the nearby bushes or tangled in the barbed wire.
This attack preceded a series of rocket and mortar shellings at the American artillery base in the following weeks. But ground probes and shellings also failed to decrease the firepower Bravo Battery pours daily into the surrounding area.
These attacks have made the men on the hill aware of their significance: that they are a damaging barrier to the enemy's attempts to control the countryside. They know the fear and tension that accompanies their role in helping to secure the area around them.
Firebase 6, sitting on a ridge with a view of Dak To to the east and Ben Het to the west, has become a prime artillery and air strike coordination center for South Vietnamese forces operating in this northwestern corner of II Corps. The hilltop has been the site of an artillery firebase for a year, initially supporting the 4th Infantry Division soldiers who were blocking the movement of NVA regulars from Cambodian and Laotian sanctuaries just across the borders. Bravo Battery moved to the hill in January to support the ARVN forces now operating in this area.
Despite the change of the troops around it, Bravo Battery remains essentially static. Only the variations in meals, locations of bunkers and the directions the men point their howitzers on fire missions break the routine.
"When we're lucky," said Corporal Anthony Peccaris, Philadelphia, "something different happens that helps us take our minds off the time. When we first got here we got invaded by rats -- I mean big ones. We had to medevac a couple guys to Pleiku to get some shots. The rats bit them while they slept. Another time, the whole sky became black with a swarm of flying bugs. They didn't bother us. They were just something different to think about other than the rounds we lug or the bunkers we live in."
The work day for Firebase 6 artillerymen is not confined to a single day or night shift. One tired soldier, who was up most of the night, said, "If we get six hours of sleep a night, some of us feel like having a party to celebrate. Sometimes we get as little as two to four hours a night -- if we're lucky."
In the mornings, with several of the crews still manning guns after all-night fire missions, one man from each gun crew walks to the mess hall, with its wooden walls and loose canvas ceiling that flaps in the wind. One of the cooks, a blond- and curly-haired young soldier, serves coffee, while another prepares the French toast and bacon and eggs. The man from the gun crew brings the other members of his section the coffee first. While the crew gulps the warm coffee, the crooked line that winds around the mess hall lengthens as men who managed to get a full night's sleep crawl out of cramped bunkers and trudge toward chow.
The men of the gun section view chow time as something other than a rest period. "Most of us hate it when chow comes around," said Private First Class William Gilkinson, New York. "We get to relaxing a bit, all set to enjoy the food, when we always get a fire mission. It seldom fails. It's almost like a game with us now." Lighthearted wagering on whether an interruption will come usually accompanies the best of meals.
After breakfast, if there is no fire mission for a particular gun section, the men begin cleaning up or rebuilding bunkers. While most of the men are busy policing the hill, burning used powder bags or cleaning their howitzers, one soldier sets up a barber shop next to one of the underground bunkers and a line of artillerymen needing haircuts quickly forms.
During spare moments or breaks from work, the men sit around their guns and talk about what they see. "You try to find something to see, something different," one man said, "but all you can see are the same bomb craters down in the valley. You look at the bunkers: you take time out every time a resupply 'slick' comes in, hoping you will get mail or something you need. You look at the Montagnards along our perimeter, and all they ever seem to be doing is washing clothes or fixing a meal. It's always the same. You really get the feeling after a while that this is your home."
While a serious mood prevails during a fire mission, levity and joking continue during meals, mail call, and the evenings when the men return to their crowded bunkers. They concoct mixtures of cool-ade and lemondade, mixed with luke-warm water -- "It tastes good, it really does." -- and talk about the letter from Mary or R&R they went on last month.
The 155mm howitzers which fire all hours rattle the men's thoughts. "You can't prepare yourself or brace yourself for the firing. It seems one of the six guns on this hill is always firing; or if there is a lapse sometime, the blast of the guns will pop up at the darndest times," said Private First Class Nick Garcia, a native Californian, resting at night in his hootch. Ten seconds later a loud bomb-blast stirred him into a discourse of four-letter words.

With the words "fire mission" still in
the air an artilleryman adjusts the
deflection of his 155mm howitzer
"It's unrelenting, but after a while on the hill, you get used to the shock and the dust that always falls on you from the sides of the bunker when you're sleeping," shrugged another soldier, brushing a coat of dust from his face. "It's getting to be a part of the game, it's routine," he continued, trying to laugh it off.
"The thing is," added First Lieutenant Michael S. Walters, Westover A.F.B., Mass., "We know we haven't got it as bad as those ARVN's down there. The men feel they're really helping. One time we got word back up here from an ARVN commander who personally thanked us for saving his troops from an ambush. We gave them support when they needed it. It helps a lot knowing that what you're doing is helping to win this war."
After lunch, the pace slows a bit as the sun drinks perspiration from deeply tanned backs. The sweat runs down in streams, drenching fatigue pants. "It's cool," one man bluffed.
Some days, when there is no fire mission to prepare for, the artillerymen take front row seats for the B-52 bombing raids in the valleys and forests below. Though the bombs fall miles away, the hill shakes with the tremors of their impact. "It feels like an earthquake," one man said. "Yeah, or like some weird carnival ride," said another.
When the dust finally drifts away with the wind, the conversation turns to how bad it must be down there when the bombs are falling. Then the ominous odor of "Fire Mission" stirs the watching men into action. They turn their howitzers in the right direction, load 100-pound rounds into the tube and "fire.... fire.... fire..."
Almost daily there are the F-4 or F-100 air raids, mincing up even more of what has been bombed and kneaded by the artillery and B-52 air strikes. The artillerymen pause to watch the jets streak overhead, cavorting in the sky like a couple of kittens, playing their deadly game of diving, bombing and strafing.
But for the men of Firebase 6, there are always more shells to carry and load, more loud noises and sleepless nights to endure. PFC Tom Neale, Detroit, Mich., said, "What I'd like to do is take one of these 'Joes' (projectiles) home with me in my hold baggage, put it over my mantel and just sneer at it all day. I must have carried thousands of them already."
Some of the shortimers still recall names of former firebases such as Swinger and Impossible where Bravo Battery once supported allied operations. But for now, and until some new guys take their places, this vital little hill will be their home. And, as PFC Neale said, "You know, I wouldn't trade my place on this hill. I'd rather be up here than down in Dak To or Pleiku. Up here you see what you're doing; you feel proud of helping the ARVN's fight this war. Most of the guys feel the same way."
See: E. Ray Austin photo of Firebase 6
The following story is from the Summer 1969 issue of UPTIGHT
Unique Force Guards
Southern II Corps
"This is Blackhawk," said the voice from the chopper overhead. "Just keep cool for a few more minutes and we'll have some Redleg in there quick." Then, glancing at the artillery liaison officer beside him, the battalion commander added, "Let's see if we can give them a real Excedrin headache! Out."
Over the chopper's intercom system came brief, excited bursts of conversation in Vietnamese -- radio transmissions between some of the ARVN troops below. Language problems were being solved on the ground while Vietnamese observers reported or confirmed the exact locations of the hostile forces. The information was relayed through the U.S. troops on the scene to an American battery of 175mm guns far to the rear.
The artillery officer looked up from his map and reported, "First round in the tube sir." Half a minute later a puff of smoke and dust in the carpet-like forest beneath them announced the arrival of the first round.
As the barrage continued, a call came from the second of the two friendly recon elements a few hundred meters away. "Sir, request some of that Redleg on automatic weapons positions to our November," said the voice, identified only by a cryptic call-sign.
"Don't worry Tango-Charlie-One," replied Lieutenant Colonel Manuel A. Alves, commander of the 3rd Battalion, 506th Airborne Infantry. "We have your number, too. Just wait your turn. Blackhawk does all things. Out."
Doing all things military to safeguard the mountain resort city of Dalat and the southern portion of II Corps Tactical Zone is a unique fighting force. It's made up of separate and distinct American and ARVN units, which are paired off to take advantage of each other's special capabilities and to share fire support, aviation and communications resources.
In the spring of 1968 the only American unit operating in the area was the 101st Airborne Division's 3rd Battalion, 506th Infantry. In the wake of the enemy's 1968 Tet Offensive, however, it was joined by the 173rd Airborne Brigade's 3rd Battalion, 503rd Infantry.
As enemy activity increased, both American and ARVN units fought in the area, but there was little formal coordination. The commander of I Field Force Vietnam and his ARVN counterpart soon solved this problem with the creation of Task Force South, consisting of two American battalions, to be paired off with elements of the 23rd ARVN Division.
This pair-off concept is used from the highest echelons of command right down the line to the lower levels of execution. In the northwestern part of the area of operations, Task Force 3rd Battalion, 503rd Infantry shares aviation and fire support with the 53rd ARVN Regiment. An identical relationship links Task Force 3rd Battalion, 506th Airborne Infantry with the 44th ARVN Regiment in the southeast.
Another example of how the Task Force South pair-off concept works in the field was provided recently at an informal afternoon conference between Lieutenant Colonel Henry H. Berke Jr., commander of the 3rd Battalion, 503rd Infantry, and his Vietnamese counterpart, Lieutenant Colonel Quach Dang, commander of the 53rd ARVN Regiment.
As the two officers exchanged news of recent operations and the progress of training in their respective units, Colonel Dang expressed some concern over the prospect of abruptly introducing his new and inexperienced long range reconnaissance patrol members, about to be graduated from the Recondo School in Nha Trang, to the dangers of field operations.
"If you'd like," offered Colonel Berke, "you can break in your new men with my experienced recon-and-ambush teams. I'll match you man for man. Your people can teach mine about trail reading and other things they've learned at Recondo School. My Hawk teams had to learn their business largely on the job. I think they could benefit from working together with school-trained personnel." Colonel Dang seemed delighted by the proposal, and preliminary plans were discussed to institute a program of combined U.S.-ARVN patrols.
Later, Colonel Berke explained that he likes to apply the Task Force South principle of mutual reliance and cooperation to as many projects as possible. "I'm trying to encourage Colonel Dang to ask me for assistance beyond what he knows he's supposed to get according to established agreements. I do this simply by asking him for favors myself -- like the use of his trucks the other day to deploy Bravo Company."
"Someday," continued the airborne commander, "he'll probably request something I won't be able to give him at the time; that's when things will get ticklish. But eventually, I'm sure, he'll understand that just because I have to say 'no' once, I won't necessarily turn him down another time."
"When both of us learn to help each other out like this in the greatest possible number of ways, and to ask for help freely -- then, I think we will have achieved the goals for which Task Force South was created.
The following article appeared in the February 25, 1971 Artillery Review newspaper, a publication of I Field Force Vietnam Artillery.
PLEIKU -- By
direction of the Secretary of the Army, the Valorous Unit Citation has been awarded to
Headquarters and Headquarters Battery, 52d Artillery Group, and its assigned and attached
units, according to a recent announcement.
The unit distinction was made in recognition of extraordinary heroism while engaged in
military operations against an armed enemy in the vicinity of Dak To and Ben Het during
the period 4 May 1969 to 28 June 1969.
Other Units
Cited
In addition to HHB, 52d Arty Group, the following assigned or attached units were
recognized for their heroic service: 1st Battalion, 92d Artillery; Battery A, 3d
Battalion, 6th Artillery; Battery B, 6th Battalion, 14th Artillery; 2d Platoon, Battery B,
4th Battalion, 60th Artillery; 1st Platoon, Battery B, 7th Battalion, 29th Artillery; 2d
Section, Battery E, 41st Artillery, 237th Field Artillery Detachment (Radar) and 254th
Field Artillery Detachment (Radar).
Action Commended
In part the citation read: "Demonstrating great personal fortitude and a firm
dedication to mission accomplishment, the officers and men of the battery succeeded in
providing massive quantities of accurately placed artillery fires in support of manuever
operations conducted by Army of the Republic of Vietnam units against North Vietnamese
Army Forces.
"Although often forced to engage in hand to hand conflict with a well trained and
determined foe, the men of HHB, 52d Arty Group continued to perform their assigned task by
placing withering fire upon the enemy. Their gallant efforts saved the lives of
numerous friendly forces, inflicted severe losses upon their adversary and contributed
immeasurably to the successes achieved in Operation Dan Quyen."
The following article appeared in the March 25, 1971 ARTILLERY REVIEW newspaper, a publication of I Field Force Vietnam Artillery
Proud Americans
Demonstrate Skill
By SP4 James V.
Durkin
6/32nd Arty IO
NINH HOA -- The Proud Americans of B Battery, 6th Battalion, 32nd Artillery, took part in a demonstration of Artillery techniques and firepower at the Duc Me ARVN Artillery School recently.
The exhibition was given to approximately 300 cadets from the Vietnamese Naval School in Nha Trang, who toured the school and received an orientation on the procedures of their Army fellows.
After opening the class with a brief history of the Artillery, the show began with the firing of an ancient Chinese cannon, to acquaint the cadets with the artillery of the past. The ARVN students then proceeded with a demonstration of the M102 (closed trail) 105mm howitzer, showing techniques of close defensive fire, adjusting fire with a forward observer, and a high angle/low angle mission, in which one piece fires two rounds, both of which hit the same target at the same time.
While this was going on, the Proud Americans were waiting in the wings. First of the heavy guns to come on was a 175mm, which took part in a demonstration of speed and direct fire. The Proud Americans demolished a hill in the impact area with two hits, leaving the students amazed at the devastating effect of the weapon.
After the 175mm gun had concluded its demonstration, one of the batterys 8-inch howitzers came on and fired an exhibition of H.E. and Firecracker rounds.
To close the demonstration, the ARVN hosts fired a time mission with White Phosphorus rounds, showing the trajectory of an artillery round.
[2001 Update on the "PROUD AMERICANS"]
The following article appeared in the March 25, 1971 ARTILLERY REVIEW newspaper, a publication of I Field Force Vietnam Artillery
By SP4 James V. Durkin
6/32nd Arty IO
THON HO DA - Seven Proud Americans and a Dusterman attached to their battery were awarded Purple Hearts recently as a result of a rocket attack on C Battery, 6th Battalion, 32 Artillery, at Firebase Freedom.
Colonel Robert J. Landseadel, Jr, Commanding Officer of IFFORCEV Provisional Artillery Group presented the Nations oldest award. Among those receiving the award were First Lieutenant William D. Fulgham, Maintenance Officer and Specialist Four Ralph G. Rhodes, of the Battery Fire Direction Center. Two other recipients were First Lieutenant Thomas L. Pierce and Staff Sergeant Robert C. Sinkler.
The following article appeared in the March 25, 1971 ARTILLERY REVIEW newspaper, a publication of I Field Force Vietnam Artillery
Forward Observer Has Tough Job
By 1LT Carl Ekmark
FO/FDO School
NHA TRANG
"Redleg Four Five this is Peaches Three Four. Fire Mission. Over." Ask any Fire Direction Center crew members and they can tell you of the sense of urgency felt when these words break the squelch. They know they hold the trust to compute data with unquestionable accuracy, and when the horn sounds for the guns its just a matter of moments until the words "Laid and safe" are heard.
He may be Peaches Three Four or a thousand other names but to all redlegs he is known as the Forward Observer - the "FO".
Eyes of the artillery
The Forward Observer is essentially the "eyes" of the artillery. Through his efforts the artillery can be the decisive factor on the battlefield. The responsibilities of the FO are immense, and a great amount of skill is needed to perform the job.
He must be thoroughly familiar with such things as map reading, communications, artillery tactics, judging the nature of the target, and correct types of ammunition for given targets.
On his own
The FO operates differently than the rest of the artillery personnel. The firing battery, the Fire Direction Center, and the various support and command elements have numerous people in close proximity to them. The Forward Observer is on his own in the field and must be able to make critical decisions in a minimum of time. The FO often finds himself the only person trained in artillery with the supported unit. He cannot rely on other people for assistance. The responsibility is his, and one mistake can be very costly to friendly troops.
FOs duties
To better understand the job of Forward Observer, lets look at what hes required to do. The primary duty of the FO is to adjust artillery fire on target for the supported unit. In other words an artillery battalion may supply a number of Forward Observers to an infantry unit. The FOs will accompany the unit commander and request fire support as required. The "fires" an FO can call in include neutralization, registration, destruction, illumination, assault fire, and special situations to include recon by fire and TAC Air. Neutralization is obtained by projectile fragmentation on a target, causing injury to personnel or damage to equipment. Registrations are used to determine corrections for firing data. Destruction and assault fire missions are missions that attempt to destroy targets with the projectiles. Special situations include smoke, chemical, and propaganda (distribution of leaflets) by artillery fire.
Source of information
Reporting information is essential to the success of combat operations. The FO is a good source for this information, since he is able to observe much that is taking place on the battlefield. Besides enemy activity reports, he also submits published reports as required by the unit SOP. These include crater analysis reports, situation reports, and information to establish target lists. The FO reports only facts and refrains from making his own opinions.
Another extremely important duty of the FO is advising the supported unit commander on the proper use of the artillery and other fire support means. He must know the capabilities and limitations of field artillery, types of targets suitable for attack and the proper ammunition to be used for the desired effect. There are limitations involving clearances of fires and the adjustment of artillery close to friendly troops. The FO must be constantly aware of these facts.
Fires must also be planned to assist the supported units mission. These fires support operation involving movement, offensive tactics, and fire support of defensive positions.
Target lists showing these predetermined locations must be planned to avoid confusion when these fires are needed. In addition to the above-mentioned, harassing, interdiction, and counter mortar/rocket fire must be considered.
Observation
The FO maintains continuous observation so that he will not be caught by surprise or miss opportunities offered by changing situations on the battlefield. When it is within his capabilities, the FO coordinates observation and fires with other observers in the vicinity.
The Forward Observer then becomes an extremely important member of both the artillery and the supported unit. The final outcome, the success or failure of the mission, can depend on the actions and proficiency of one man on the battlefield - the Forward Observer.
Contact the
webmaster
about submitting your Vietnam
artillery news stories for publication here!
|
7/15th VIETNAM HISTORY |
|
|
|
Arty Stories |
| News Stories | |
| Photos | |
Visitors
since January 21, 2002
|
______________________________________ |