Chief Shot with Arrow, Water Walker: A True Story of Stolen Valor

By Richard A. Hendren QM1 POW

This is a historical account of the first and youngest navigator of warships and boats in combat during Vietnam, also the first American Indian who did so much for so many for so little; a Sioux warrior who saved hundreds of American lives; was on occasion POW; made to load thousands of rounds of ammunition because he could navigate by the starts-a gift of his God-and served five tours in combat and promised the Silver Star, two Medals of Honor, and the Purple Heart. However, the records were lost or changed.

Only American and 100 percent Sioux to be able to navigate any naval ship at seventeen years old with no naval training or striker training. OTJ. No training in his file.

Only Navy sailor sentenced to the red-line brig (prison) for bread and water and then released back to duty to the gunline of Vietnam for two solid years. Shaved head-POW.

Only American Indian promised and vetted for the Sliver Star, Bronze Star, two Medals of Honor, and Purple Heart for valor above and beyond the call of duty in combat with the enemy. Records lost and not in file.

Only American Indian who graduated from SERE whose record was lost.

Only E-1 to E-6 referred to as Chief for eight years on three warships and one LCU 1615 and several PBRs in Vietnam.

Only American Indian to navigate safely through the USS DD6-7 Henry B. Wilson 38,800 miles safely, but the officers of the deck lost the ship three times off the coast of Vietnam in 1975. Record lost.

Only American Indian ordered to shoot men who walked off their post on the bridge of the DD6-7-a short mutiny. Record lost.

Only American Indian LPO who saved his boat and crew off Hoi An, Vietnam, and killed many nonregulars and Vietcong then saved the boat by swimming in the typhoon and retrieving a shot line then left for dead by his crew on the beach. Boat repaired but records lost.

Only Indian who was ordered to assist all the navigators on the fleet going to South Vietnam who were all off coast; on file.

Almost lost his life three times climbing the mast of the DD6-7 when they (officers) lost her position off the coast of Vietnam during the fall of Saigon. Records are lost or missing.

Only sailor ordered each and every recording of the IFS-1 USS Carronade because he was able to do the job of an E-6 and above and not allowed field rank or time to take an exam.

Only Indian who refused to bring back an American warship, the DD6-7 Henry B. Wilson, to the USA. A truce was typed up and signed by the CO XO and himself, but it was lost in his records.

One of a few who were elected to return to service in 1975. He was denied every benefit earned from Agent Orange, Vietnam service, and being wounded by shrapnel. He had to wait twenty-two years for benefits, and he had to get them himself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: May 11, 2021
• ISBN: 9781662402937

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Richard A. Hendren QM1, POW

Chief Shot with Arrow,

Water Walker

A True Story of Stolen Valor

Copyright © 2021 Richard A. Hendren QM1, POW

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2021

ISBN 978-1-6624-0292-0 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-6624-0293-7 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Dedicated to my

wife of forty-two years, Victoria Shot with Arrow, who saved my soul, or at least my mind (PTSD).

Thank you those who treated me like a man and those who loved me always.

RIP

RAO (Ruth Ann Oviedo)

CC (Cora Cole)

ST (Shirley Taylor)

RAC (Roxeann Chamberlain)

JP (Jeanie Prenger)

and all others who truly loved me!

My name is

Richard A. Hendren QM1, POW, aka Chief Shot with Arrow.

I joined the Navy at the age of seventeen years old and served from March 18, 1965, until March 18, 1969.

I served as the first American Indian 100 percent in the capacity of a quartermaster who was able to navigate any vessel by celestial navigation. I had no formal training, which includes on the job (striker) or any naval school or civilian school. I could also operate any type of vessel: canoe, motorboat, M-8, M-6, LCU, rivercraft, and Navy ships, and later fixed-wing airplanes.

I served aboard the USS Carronade (IFS-1) as inshore fire support, and I am a plank owner.

I completed SERE training (Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape) in 1968 at Warner Springs, California, with a select group of men who would serve on LCUs and riverboats in all corps of South Vietnam. However, my record of completion is missing in my file.

Aboard the USS Carronade, I was not allowed to navigate the ship in open sea. However, I did assist the chief quartermaster and navigation in all other duties underway.

The CO would always want me (he called me Pathfinder) to navigate the ship in and out of the major ports.

All the men on the Carronade called me Chief. All the E-6s and the above did not approve and complained to the CO. They called me everything except a white man and treated me with disrespect until they realized I was worth my salt when it came to navigation duties and other crucial duties on the gunline.

On the gunline of Vietnam, our record is unsurpassed in the records of naval history as to the death and destruction we dealt the enemy. I did the same job and more than the team in action. They received the Silver Star; mine was lost in the mail, of course.

However, my war medals tell a different story.

In 1969 I was defending myself against an assault from a Communist agitator in Yokosuka, Japan, while on Liberty. When the Japanese police and military police arrived, I was attacked by at least twenty armed men at once and not given a chance to explain what had occurred. I identified myself as a QM and shore patrol, but they began to beat me with their clubs. I dropped at least one half of them until they knocked me out with their clubs.

I woke up in a straightjacket in a padded cell hours later. The men picked me up and presented me before the chief magistrate, and every time I spoke, they would drop my neck in the brass fixture before the magistrate. I was sentenced to three days with only bread and water. A national incident was to be treated as a military offense. My record is incomplete. This was actually an international incident.

I was chained hands and ankles with handcuffs and taken to the red-line brig in Yokosuka. My head was shaved, and a fire hose was used to wash me down. I was put in a POW uniform and placed into a solitary cell. The cell was enclosed all around, except above the bed and a light, and a Marine armed with a rifle stood above me on a metal grate (catwalk).

I was taunted by the guard. He spat on me, called me names: squid, crazy gook, Indian, etc.—all the usual mother names. I, of course, invited him to join me, but he refused. He would just point his loaded weapon at me, and at one point, he urinated on me. He gave up his antics after two days.

I refused the bread for two days, and on the third day, the guards treated me with respect and offered me a meal on the last day. I refused the meal. I returned to the ship, and my shipmate, the CPO, asked me if I learned my lesson. He flinched when I stared at him, and he called me a crazy, drunken Indian. I returned to my duties as usual and became part of the gunline team for the rest of the cruise. The record in my file does not explain what really happened, just the charges and sentence. I think any other sailor would have been discharged, but I was needed for my special talents. The CO needed me for the mission in Vietnam.

When not underway or on the gunline 24-7, I was the first loader of all the ammo the Carronade fired in Vietnam. I estimate I loaded from the helo drops on each and all replenishment combined the following: 26,700 rounds of spin-stabilized rockets x3 parts, 2,500 five-inch bullets, and 9,000 rounds of 40mm clips. I carried them to the next man in the magazine hole from the helo drops.

I also helped the (CGM) chief gunner’s mate, who wore a fire suit with gloves. I only had gloves, picking up hundreds of live rockets, which spilled out of the launchers and rolled on the decks. Often they would fire off into the sea when tossed over the side of the ship. I’m not bragging; it is just a fact. My CPO volunteered me for the job.

Of course, this is only a few facts of my service on the USS Carronade IFS-1. The Carronade IFS-1 was kicked out of Kobe, Japan, and the Island of Maui. The Kobe incident was a fight me, and others were in with German merchant Marines. The story was in the Kobe newspaper. They taunted us with names like yanks!

I am proud of my service. I just wish I was treated with more respect, but it only made me stronger for future events to follow.

After SERE training, I was transferred to ACU-1 (Assault Craft Unit ONE).

I was the navigator under a BMC on the ACU-1615. The BMC was relieved of duty after an incident in Hue on the Perfume River. He allowed women to put bombs on board the boat!

I took over as LPO (leading petty officer) until I left the service in 1969. I navigated the LCU 1615 into all ports of call in all corps of Vietnam. We hauled 180 tons of cargo 24-7. I was in complete control of the LCU 1615 and the crew.

The cargo was anything and everything, including Agent Orange, men, dead and alive, ammo, food, water and soda, tanks, toilet paper, guns CASREP equipment (damaged cranes, vehicles, etc.). I saved the crew from collisions and daily attacks by the VC and NVR. I also did duty on PBRS.

My main event occurred during the 1968 during a typhoon, off Hoi An, south of Da Nang. We had unloaded several tons of ammo to the ROK (Republic of Korea) when a typhoon hit in midday. We had no warning from HQ in Da Nang. The winds and rain pushed the LCU 1615 up on the beach. It was broached. We had to abandon the LCU 1615 and seek shelter at the ROK encampment.

I radioed in Mayday to Da Nang and burned our ops manual. I had all the men arm up, and we proceeded to the ROK camp. It was dark now due to the storm, and the winds were 75–80 mph and getting worse. I set up some guns on the sand ridge, and the VC started attacking up the hill. I held off the enemy and had the men go toward the ROK camp with a ROK officer. I know I dropped at least fifty or so of the men coming up the hill, and the barrels on the guns were hot.

I left the position, and with the ROK officer, we walked through a minefield as he told us where to walk. Later, we found out at least half of the mines were electronically controlled but there was a path to walk. If you stepped on a live mine, you were dead!

We spent the storm out in the camp, and one ROK marine got shot in the arm or leg. He was happy because now he could return home to Korea. We, on the other hand, had to return to the LCU and get her off the beach.

On the following morning, the fleet tug arrived offshore from Da Nang. However, the winds would not allow the shot line to reach us on the shore. A shot line is a shot from a shotgun with a sinker. I had to swim out to get the shot line and bring it back to the shore. Another crewman who was a surfer swam out with me, but he turned back. I got the shot line and put it in my mouth. I was picked up by fifteen- to twenty-foot waves and slammed headfirst into the sand and released over and over until I landed on the beach, unconscious.

I was unable to breathe properly, my lungs expanded, and I was spitting out seawater. The men took the shot line and pulled the line to the boat. The crew left me on the beach. They couldn’t or wouldn’t assist me. I lay there for about twenty minutes until I sucked air from the wet sand. They left me for dead and didn’t know what to do or how to get the LCU off the beach!

I had the tug pull from the sea and two ten-ton Army trucks (ROK) pulled, and we managed to twist the boat so it was off the beach and the engines could back us off.

We returned to Da Nang under my direction, and the LCU 1615 had to have a hole repaired as we had water inside the sleep area. The records are missing on its repair. The logbooks of the LCU are also missing.

Of course, the log is missing or destroyed, and no one bothered to debrief the crew; hence, no record of my heroism. I was the LPO for hell’s sake. The archives tell me the LCUs were not commissioned, so no logs were copied. I say bullshit! They are with the Navy records of boats on the river forces under ACU-1. Who did what I have written if it was not me, QM3 Hendren? I was running the LCU 1615 24-7 and saved it on several occasions. A near collision with a battleship at early dawn and many times with swimmers attacking us on the Perfume River in Hue—I was the LPO in charge of LCU 1615.

There are records of the lost LCU 1500, A-LST, and other incidents. LCU 1615 is missing.

Another thing, my quarterly remarks were gundecked by some officers because I never met any officers who were in charge of ACU-1 being down on the boat LCU 1615 at Bridge Ramp during my tour of duty on the LCU 1615. The LCUs fended for themselves, and our supplies were given to us by the Army or Marine guards who were sent with each shipment of supplies up the rivers. No brass ever checked on us!

The original BMC was relieved of duty at Hue for an incident with an Army boat who boarded the LCU 1615 due to women aboard, and they found two bombs on the reefer below. He was gone, and I took over the boat. I became the LPO after the incident.

I was in charge of the LCU 1615 loading of supplies, unloading, and signing all the manifests, navigation of the LCU, and in charge of the crew in all aspects of training and combat assignments of the rest of my tour of duty. The only time the men would do as they pleased was when we had down time for engine repairs, the boat repair, and R&R.

I would have been the person (LPO) to do any evaluation of the men, not some unknown officer who supposedly came to