A Memory In Time

By Neil R. Kohl

Vietnam was an experience like none other. You seldom knew who your enemy was. Always be prepared. Base camp was the closest thing to a safe place. I just did not spend much time there. I got into searching tunnels because the need arose and I felt I could do something about it using my Chemical Corps training. That decision would push me to fight for my life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jul 26, 2022
• ISBN: 9781684980772

Book preview

A

MEMORY

in

TIME

A Vietnam Experience from September 18, 1965 through August 28, 1966

NEIL R. KOHL

This is a work in progress.

Copyright © 2022 Neil R. Kohl

All rights reserved

First Edition

NEWMAN SPRINGS PUBLISHING

320 Broad Street

Red Bank, NJ 07701

First originally published by Newman Springs Publishing 2022

ISBN 978-1-68498-076-5 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-68498-077-2 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

The fresh air was so welcome, but there was no time to enjoy it. I had to clear the exit and find cover. I then realized it was night, but it was not nearly as dark as where I had been. I pulled myself from the hole and moved quietly to the cover of the brush, making sure I took with me my newfound bootee.

Now I felt relatively secure and reasonably certain no one knew I was here. I could catch my breath and contemplate my next move. I had never really been in this situation before, but that was not uncommon in these days.

Just then, I heard a twig snap and the low sound of voices. At least two people. They did not seem alarmed, and hopefully they would not become so. What I would give for my army-issued sawed-off shotgun right now. We were forced to part company earlier in the day when this all started.

Today started like so many others. It was getting to the point that they all seemed the same. I remember not realizing that I had passed my twenty-first birthday until three weeks after the fact. Bob, my tunnel rat partner, had come back from operations that morning saying we would be moving out on a sweep with a company. We quickly checked our gear and prepared to move to the assembly area.

As we moved out, like so many times before, we picked a position somewhere in the middle of the unit. After what seemed to be about an hour, we were in position along something like a dike, covered with bamboo and brush on its top but clear on the other side, which lead to an open field. I would guess the field was about ten acres.

A short time after being in position, shots were fired on our left flank. There was a short skirmish. We received word that we had a casualty and an armored personnel carrier would be bringing the body back near our location. When it arrived, we went to see what had taken place. It was a soldier that we knew—an army pictorial cameraman. He had attempted to assist a wounded soldier and was shot in the head.

The men were starting across the open field, so we returned to our positions. Just then, all hell broke loose. We were taking automatic fire from the tree line on the other side of the field. There must have been a couple of hundred soldiers out in the open. In a short time, our troops gained the wood line on the far side. No one had been hit. It was a typical sniper engagement. We were lucky this time they were poor shots.

As soon as Bob and I made it to the other side, word came a tunnel had been found. To me, that explained the quick disengagement of our enemy. They most likely had gone underground to escape.

When we arrived at the tunnel, it was easy to determine this was the type I usually took. We readied the communications gear, which was a field telephone that had been packed into a flashlight by our friends in the air force back at our base camp. I gave Bob my shotgun, checked my knives (one bayonet and one razor-sharp hunting knife that I had shaved with that morning), and my .32 caliber Smith and Wesson. Time to go underground.

The tunnel was very smooth on the floor and lower walls, which was a sign that it was frequently used. No wonder there had not been a friendly force in Chu Chi in nine years. I proceeded cautiously into the passageway. It was a short three feet high and two feet wide. Forty yards or so into the tunnel, it went to the right and the left.

To save time, I rigged a booby-trapped hand grenade to the right passageway floor. I told Bob what to look for should he need to come after me. Before covering the grenade, I measured two lengths of my bayonet back from the grenade, then cut a half-inch-wide V in the floor of the tunnel, then placed soft earth over both the V and the grenade. This whole process only took a couple of minutes. I did not move into the intersection any more than I had to.

I proceeded to the left. I only went a few yards till I could tell the tunnel was going to enter into a room. It appeared that the room was about eight feet in depth to the far wall. I relayed the information to Bob and told him I was unhooking until I found out what was in the room. I proceeded very cautiously to the room entrance. The room was about eight feet high and ten feet long with two fifty-five-gallon drums in it. I checked the floor for anything that might look like a booby trap. There was only one thing left to do—enter the room.

I took a quiet deep breath, rolled my flashlight onto the floor some four feet from me, and stepped into the room behind the flashlight with bayonet in my left hand and .32 in my right. The first thing that caught my eye was a rifle muzzle protruding from behind one barrel, and it was moving. As the soldier stood up to get a shot at me, I fired three times. All shots appeared to catch him in the chest. I dove for the tunnel passage, my heart racing and my mouth extremely dry. I peered around the corner to see a body a yard in front of the light, its eyes eerily wide open with no signs of breathing. I worked up my nerve to approach, keeping my weapons at the ready. No pulse was present. I cautiously rolled him over. My shots had found their mark; he was not going to be coming back to life.

I returned to my gear and put it on.

Bob, I whispered, are you there?

What was all that racket? replied Bob.

No problem, Bob. Someone is having a bad day. Now let’s get on with this.

I returned to the booby trap and disarmed it, feeling more secure about one leg of this tunnel. I proceeded forward, checking for more concealed devices. In about twenty minutes, I came to another intersection. I employed the same procedure as before. This time, when I checked out the one on the left, it appeared to be an abandoned section of tunnel.

Again, disarming the booby trap, I proceeded down the right leg. A short time later, I ran out of communication wire. This meant that I was one quarter of a mile into the tunnel complex. I told Bob I was unhooking and going for it.

I told Bob, If you move out, go down the tunnel to the first intersection and reset the booby trap I placed there earlier.

He agreed.

From this point, I went relentlessly forward. At one point, the bulb in my flashlight blew out. This was not a problem as Bob and I had practiced taking them apart and putting them back together in the dark, right along with reloading our weapons.

My next encounter was with a colony of large black ants, something we had run into before. By now, I was using the army-issued insect spray to combat the situation in a rather unconventional way. This was an aerosol can that plainly states Do not puncture can. I took my bayonet, placing it just inside the top rim of the can. I cupped the blade between my fingers, and with hand over the top of the can, I punctured it and threw it into the ant’s activity. Now I could retreat down the tunnel for a brief rest.

While waiting for the spray to work, I shone the flashlight on my watch, which was hanging from the buttonhole of my fatigue shirt, and saw that it was nine fifteen. This was the first it dawned on me that I no longer had security forces outside the tunnel as they were going to pull back to base camp before dark. I couldn’t worry because, whatever the outcome, it was left to me. My only advantage was surprise!

It was time to move on, and thankfully I was rested. The ants were now mostly on the floor, and movement was nil. If they should bite, I’d have to pull them off, and most likely some hide would come too. Moving in a low duck walk, I traversed the ant colony and soon resumed crawling forward.

A chill ran down my spine when I heard human voices. I turned my flashlight off and inched forward. The sound grew louder. Easing to a turn in the tunnel, I noticed a dim light ahead. Inching forward, I saw a snoring soldier with only a candle as his weapon. I had my pistol in one hand and hunting knife in the other. I lunged, dropping my pistol beside me. One hand covered the mouth while the other sent the blade home. The body stiffened to struggle but shortly relaxed. I dared not shoot as there might be others.

I proceeded forward, pistol in hand. I could feel coolness on my face. Hopefully the sensation was the night air coming in from an entrance. What if there were others outside? As I rounded a corner, I saw objects in the tunnel. Pistol cocked, I was poised for the first sign of movement. Nothing happened. I found stored items in here, including many backpacks. I proceeded going through these looking for any official documents. I put anything that looked important into one bag and carried it with me. Most importantly, I found a stub tunnel off to the right. When I checked it out, I found it led to a very well concealed overhead door. Ever so slightly, I pushed it upward. Again I felt cool air, so out went my light while I sat and waited for several minutes.

I returned to my newfound prize collection and rechecked my gear. Once again, I approached the exit door. Light went out again as I lifted the door slightly and listened. Several moments later, I opened it wider and wider so I could peer out into the night. All seemed vacant, so I pushed my backpack to the ground and proceeded to extract myself from this hole. I was out!

I moved quickly and quietly to some nearby bushes. I was about ten yards from the tunnel when I heard a twig snap. I realized I had company. A figure appeared from across the small clearing and moved to the tunnel entrance and opened the door. I watched as he disappeared inside.

I moved into some trees away from the clearing and came across a tract about fifteen yards farther along that I realized was a tank trail. I was at a loss as to which way to go because, either way, I would run into the tank. I moved on into the shadowed side of the trail. Things were going well. Just then, my footing gave way, and I let myself fall to the ground with my hands over my head to make myself as tall as possible. The ground cover was soft from my knees to my chest, and I soon realized I had fallen over a tiger pit. I inched myself to the left on my tiptoes, occasionally checking with my left hand for anything solid under my midsection. Finally I made it to solid ground and collapsed my arms and legs shaking.

Again I heard the sound of twigs breaking, and I knew that more than one person was near. I could hear a conversation as I moved along the shadowing trail trying to outdistance them. They probably had just found their comrade.

I had been moving faster than they were as the sounds were becoming fainter. When I made a turn in the trail, I saw a large open field that was about two hundred yards across. If I could make it to the other side, coming would expose them after me; but I, too, would be in full sight if I attempted to cross. Thankfully the grass was a couple of feet high, so I would have some cover.

I took off on a dead run. I was no sprinter, but I think I ran my finest race that night. Within fifty yards of my goal, I saw concertina wire, which told me I was at some unit’s perimeter. Now my own soldiers could shoot me. My guardian angel was with me, as it had been all this tour, because I found an opening in the wire. Now I was in an alleyway with wire on both sides that should lead to the internal camp. Making it to the first tent, I fell to the ground and started yelling for help. I soon had rifles pointing at me as one soldier attended to me and then declared me a friendly. I informed the others that there could be at least two Vietcong following me, so they quickly moved out to secure the area.

I was taken to the command post, where my newfound goodies were examined. There was a North Vietnamese flag, a company roster, and other valuable documents. Later I was told that two hundred arrests had been made based upon the information I had retrieved.

As I said, I made it from the open field to the confines of what should be a secured area. I could not believe the absence of guards. This unit had just moved here from Hawaii, and I don’t think they knew what they were in for. My yell of alarm brought a soldier in fatigue trousers and white T-shirt out of one of the tents.

I remember thinking, You are unarmed, and your shirt makes you a perfect target. If I were a VC, you would be dead and your buddies in a world of hurt.

I asked the soldier to get me to the command post and the top sergeant (first sergeant in army terms). In a few minutes, the top appeared. I told him of the events of my being here and how I entered his perimeter.

Sergeant, I began, I think you better alert the sergeant of the guard and check your guard posts.

Shortly another man entered the tent. He was the commanding officer, Lieutenant Colonel Someone. He was agitated. I did not get a good feeling because immediately he wanted to know about the tunnel area. He indicated that they had sniper fire from that area. That was of little surprise to me after what I had been through earlier that morning.

Immediately the colonel wanted two squads of infantry, two armored personnel carriers (APCs), and me to lead them back to the tunnel. To me, this was not a good plan. Yes, we probably would outnumber them and have more firepower, but they would hear the APCs as soon as their engines broke the still of the night and know full well we were coming back. What booby traps was along that path or what might have been put in place as we talked, I could only guess.

I pleaded with the colonel to give me one of his best M60 machine gunners and equip me with a fully automatic rifle with five hundred rounds. I wanted to follow the tree line in the shadows around the right side of the clearing and set up position along the trail across from the tunnel. Moving in undetected was key. If caught flat footed, we would lose only two