And Some There Be

By Vin Musgrave

A novel of an unpublicized war endured by unheralded people.

• Language: English
• Publisher: ReadOnTime BV
• Release date: Dec 2, 2012
• ISBN: 9781742842455

Vin Musgrave

Vin Musgrave served in the Australian Regular Army for twenty-four years, then in the Active Reserve for seven years. He entered the Royal Military College, Duntroon in 1953 and graduated in 1956. The rest of his time was spent in the Infantry. He retired in 1984 after service in Australia, Papua New Guinea and Vietnam. In Vietnam he was an adviser with the South Vietnamese: first at an army training centre, then with paramilitary forces in two districts bordering Hue in Central Vietnam. He wrote ’And Some There Be’ to commemorate the South Vietnamese, Americans and fellow Australians he served with. Despite the extensive literature spawned by the Second Indo-China War, little has been devoted to the sacrifice of the paramilitary troops of the South. This may be due to poor performance in some parts of the country, but the men the author served with were good, brave soldiers. They and the people they belonged to deserve remembrance.

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And Some There Be

Vin Musgrave

Smashwords Edition

And Some There Be

Copyright © 2012 Vin Musgrave

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

The information, views, opinions and visuals expressed in this publication are solely those of the author(s) and do not reflect those of the publisher. The publisher disclaims any liabilities or responsibilities whatsoever for any damages, libel or liabilities arising directly or indirectly from the contents of this publication.

A copy of this publication can be found in the National Library of Australia.

ISBN: 978-1-742842-45-5 (pbk.)

Published by Book Pal

www.bookpal.com.au

‘Let Us Now Praise Famous Men…’

R.V.Williams (from Ecclesiasticus)

Let us now praise famous men, and our fathers that begat us. Such as did bear rule in their kingdoms men renowned for their power.

Leaders of the people by their counsels, and by their knowledge. Such as found out musical tunes, and recited verses in writing. All these were honoured in their generations, and were the glory of their times.

And some there be, which have no memorial.

Who are perished, as though they have never been.

Their bodies are buried in peace.

But their name liveth for evermore.

Contents

Chapter 1

79 Days Remaining In Country

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

75 Days Remaining In Country

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

72 Days Remaining In Country

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

67 Days Remaining In Country

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

60 Days Remaining In Country

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

56 Days Remaining In Country

Chapter 17

46 Days Remaining In Country

Chapter 18

36 Days Remaining In Country

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

31 Days Remaining In Country

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

28 Days Remaining In Country

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

20 Days Remaining In Country

Chapter 26

4 Days Remaining In Country

In Memory Of

Captain Belleville, Royal Australian Regiment

Killed in action, 1966

Captain Dat, Infantry, Army of the Republic of South Vietnam: Murdered, 1968

Major Hai, Infantry, Army of the Republic of South Vietnam: Died of wounds, 1967

Captain Nichols, Infantry, United States Army:

Killed in action, 1965

Captain Tang, Infantry, Army of the Republic of South Vietnam: Fate unknown

– and all those who were.

Chapter 1

79 Days Remaining In Country

‘It is essential to understand that battles are won primarily in the hearts of men.’

Field Marshall Viscount Montgomery

Courtney heard the crack of the rifle but he had no idea where the shot had hit the water; it was probably to his front. He stopped and with the brown grey water swirling just below his waist, he half turned to scan the distant causeway to his left. There was no textbook movement, or shape, or shine to reveal the sniper’s location, just the roofs of the hamlet buildings showing above the bamboo that lined the edge of the narrow ribbon of dry land in this world of water.

He twisted and looked back to check the others and was relieved to see that nobody had been hit. About ten metres behind him Boyd with their radio on his back was scanning the hamlet, Courtney could not see his face clearly but no doubt it reflected the usual calm acceptance of the unpleasant. Behind Boyd and another gap to the rear, Geoff Bentley had lowered himself down into the water so that it now came up to his ribs. Probably, on hearing the shot he had been going to ground as a good infantryman instinctively does when he realized that there was no ground to go to. He also was scanning the area of the hamlet. Bringing up the rear was Al Sampson with the grenade launcher. He had the launcher held up in one hand whilst the other hand indicated that the causeway was out of effective range. Courtney had by then estimated that their carbines were not any good at that range either and there was no target anyhow, so as he turned back to his front he shouted,

‘Righto keep moving before the bastard gets lucky and hits someone.’

About a hundred metres after they got moving again a second shot missed to their rear.

That’s probably it for the day, thought Courtney as he started to whistle Downtown.

Half an hour later they were close to the new outpost. They couldn’t miss it. The village and the track linking the village to the distant highway to the North and the closer sea to the South was the only other ground above water in the wet season. A logical place to site a cemetery and unfortunately also a logical place to site an outpost. Courtney had only been there once before development began and that was immediately after the re-capture of the nearby village a week ago. They could see movement some distance away but the stench did not hit them until they were within about fifty metres of dry land.

The cemetery was a scene of surreal but energetic activity with Captain Khoa positioned in the centre of this activity doing his mandarin act complete with long fingernail, swagger stick and a large white water bird perched on his extended left forearm.

Courtney lurched out of the water and stood for a while draining and waiting for the others to close up. The smell was worse now and the source was obvious; graves were being dug up and the remains removed. There was a line of locals from Than Thuy Chanh patiently waiting to be presented with what was left of their dead relatives as they became available whilst Khoa stood beaming authority and benevolence in all directions.

‘Christ!’ whispered Geoff, ‘I hadn’t imagined this, it all seemed nice and tidy on the map.’

Boyd and Sgt Sampson didn’t say anything they just stared and tried to hold their breath.

‘Stay here’, said Courtney, ‘I’ll go and say hello to Khoa and see what’s doing.’

He moved off carefully picking his way around open graves and cloth bound bundles but it was impossible to avoid the carpet of lime powder that covered most of the area. Well at least we might avoid the plague, he thought as he approached the District Chief. Khoa greeted him with a smile which Courtney knew was genuine and he smiled back as they exchanged salutes.

‘Did you have a pleasant walk Major? grinned Khoa as he studied the Australian’s bedraggled state.

‘A bit of activity at Nhi Dong again Captain, one VC, the same sniper, same result.’

‘Hmm’, said Khoa, ‘we really should get him but he’s only a village guerrilla and we have more pressing work here right now.’

‘Yes, I think we’ll just avoid him in future, without us he may die of boredom’, said Courtney, ‘How is progress here?’

"Ahh Major, within a few hours we will have our weapon pits and the machine gun in place, that large concrete tomb with the chamber inside that we looked at is already set up as headquarters.’

‘That’s very good’, replied Courtney.’ Then as he motioned to the other advisers to join him he saw a body being thrown into the water. He checked, pointed and asked,

‘What is happening over there Captain?’

Khoa glanced in the direction indicated, shrugged slightly and replied, ‘Only a VC.i, Would you like some tea Major?

The rain had surprisingly held off during the day but after Khoa had departed for District Headquartersii, weapons had been test fired and they were about to stand to the normal wet season downpour descended on the outpost with a vengeance. It continued into the night. Inside the tomb a dim light shone in the furthest corner where the company’s radio hissed whilst the operator carried out a conversation with a distant voice to conduct the specified communications check and report that all was well at the outpost. Courtney did not think that all was well as he lay on his share of the large slab that occupied most of the chamber that Geoff had christened ‘Uncles Tomb.’ For a start he was still wet, it was stuffy with breath and cigarette smoke and someone had just farted. He pushed up on his elbows and surveyed the slab and its outside occupants deciding that it was best not to think about its inside occupants. The advisers and the company headquarter’s members were spread along the slab in various states of rest and he noted that apart from two or three restless types and the duty radio man the others were sound asleep. The fug got too much for him so he eased off the slab, picked up his carbine and webbing and carefully made his way to the exit. He had just got up the steps and stopped outside when a shriek behind him split the noise of the rain. Shortly after Boyd’s head appeared at the top of the steps laughing and gasping for air.

‘What in the hell is going on down there?’ demanded Courtney.

Boyd breathed deeply, got control of himself and explained,

‘One of the PF threw an arm around in his sleep and touched Geoff on the butt – ah ah ah.’ He recovered and went on, ‘Geoff is not all that happy at present but Al is calming things down.’

They both stood silent for a while with Courtney making a mental note to laugh later then Boyd continued,

‘Are you okay Sir?’

‘Yes’, replied Courtney ‘I just wanted some air and now that I’m getting used to the smell of this place it’s no worse than down there so I decided to go and talk to the man on the machine gun for a while.’

‘Well good luck on that one Boss, but I think you will find that his English is as bad as your Vietnamese.’

Courtney assumed a mock look of persecution and replied,

‘Hah bloody hah, critics everywhere, well if that’s the case I’ll go and talk to the friggin gun.’

He winked, started to quietly whistle Don’t Sleep in the Subway and vanished into the rain. Boyd turned and went back down the steps into the tomb, he’d not got used to the smell above yet and preferred to be out of the rain even it if meant being in the muggy tomb.

It rained all night and was still raining after stand to in the morning as they moved off to form up for the attack. The attack was necessary because during the night a small party of enemy had established themselves about five hundred metres away to the South. There a bund formed a T-junction with the track. They posed a threat to movement around the base and in the village so it was a matter of taking that junction and denying its further use to the Viet Cong. Courtney contemplated the watery landscape and reminded himself how the wet season had made a mockery of conventional tactics. With little or no ground to consider the approaches to the objective narrowed down to one, straight up the track. The enemy fire to be met was just as predictable it would be straight down the track. It was going to be a form of attack that you tried to avoid. Because of the water the old ‘straight up the guts’ predicament had reared its ugly head. With their lack of resources they couldn’t go up the guts with adequate covering fire as some lucky types had done and got away with in the past. Courtney was not looking forward to the next thirty minutes. The young RFiii company commander was no happier with the unavoidable approach so after discussion a minor flanking approach element was added to the plan. This consisted of the local Popular Forceiv squad of six plus Courtney and Al Sampson with the grenade launcher. This group were to move through the paddy slightly left of the main approach down the track. The idea was that this would at least split the enemy fire between the two assaulting groups.

There was no need for the flank group to look at a watch. They entered the water and started wading forward as soon as they saw the lead platoon of the main force start to move. It remained quiet for longer than they expected. They had covered a third of the distance before the firing started and confirmed that at this stage the enemy did not have a machine gun. The VC were firing down the track at the lead Regional Force platoon who were making the best of a bad situation with fire and movement. Courtney couldn’t believe their luck but that suddenly changed as thumps overhead indicated high fire coming their way. They were now within range for the grenade launcher. The Major looked to Al on his right to see that the big sergeant was just getting his first round away. Satisfied he concentrated on forcing his legs through the water whilst clumsily firing his carbine from an unprofessional variation of the shoulder position. With some one hundred metres to go they took their only casualty; the PF to his left was hit, staggered forward for a second or two and then slid sideways under the water. Courtney was well aware of the old rule that you did not stop for the wounded during an assault but it seemed to him that if you’re in water that could be a bit harsh, so he floundered to his left just as one of the PF’s hands broke the surface. He grabbed the hand and started to pull the man along behind him as he tried to catch up with the others who were now ahead of him. All went well for another twenty metres with Courtney beginning to think that they were home and hosed, but then his left foot hit something under water and he tripped and lost his grip on the PF’s hand. When he got to his feet again there was no sign of the wounded man; by some miracle he still had his carbine. For a moment or two he stared back at the flat sullen water then turned and waded off to catch up with the others.

By then it was just about all over, the main group were taking possession of the junction area and the flank group had stopped firing. Courtney could see Boyd and the company commander in the centre of the track with the radio, they would be reporting to District Headquarters and making Khoa’s day. As the flank party climbed up out of the water there was nothing left to shoot at and the last scattered shots ceased. Nerves then began to return to normal or at least what served as normal in this place. Courtney turned back to look at the water just as Geoff came striding around a small patch of bamboo. The captain was animated by relief and elation and on seeing Al Sampson standing on the bank shouted,

‘Good shooting Al! Those rounds you put into them stopped the bastards laughing in church.’

Subduing yet another bad memory Courtney gave Geoff the thumbs up sign and moved over to join him; Al followed.

‘Shit eh Jim’, said Geoff. ‘The hairiest plan ever actioned and they did it! They moved bloody well seeing there was nowhere to move except up the guts.’

‘Any casualties?’ asked Courtney, then added, ‘We lost one.’

‘Two wounded Jim, we got three of them and two weapons, bloody miraculous!’ replied Bentley.

‘Well Geoff old boy’, said the major, ‘we’d better try and get a bit of re-organisation going here, one mortar round would get the lot; right now we represent the classic buggers’ muddle.’

‘The forward platoon’s okay Jim, they’re as re-organised as anyone can be in this situation. I’ll go back and stay with them for the time being.’

‘Yes, okay I think the thing to do now is to leave a squad or two to hold this area and get the rest of this mob out of here. I’ll go and talk to the company commander. Come on Al, by the way that was good shooting with the launcher, you see, you can get lucky every now and then.’

Sampson just smiled at Bentley as he strode off behind Courtney. As he headed back to the forward platoon Geoff called out to the departing Courtney.

‘It could be worse you know, the rain has stopped.’

Then it started to rain again.

That night saw yet another wet season departure from tactical doctrine; a fighting patrol conducted in sampans. The rationale was straightforward, they needed to check on and counter enemy movement in the area and this was the only way to do it. A timed route had been selected to take in the few significant bits of ground above water so at H Hour they pushed off and started poling to the first check point. Courtney, O’Neill and Bentley were in separate craft in the group of six and Boyd, as usual, had the advisers’ radio. The patrol commander had his operator and radio in his sampan the sight of which started Courtney thinking about the futility of having adequate communications but no available source of fire support to call on. However, he was happy that they would at least be able to report their position if things got sticky. ‘Put us right up there with the Titanic’, he mused. It was very