The Calm before the Storm

Cobi Tahn Valley had been a strange operation. We slipped and slid in the monsoon rain and mud from one jungle to the next, with some fairly steep hills in-between, and never once crossed paths with the enemy. (If the truth be known, HE was probably "caved-up' someplace and merely had enough sense to "stay in out of the rain." But long range patrols still had to be run.

For ME, although cold, wet and miserable, it DID eat up a couple more weeks on the calendar, and if the rest of this tour stayed quiet, that would be ok with me. It wouldn't of course, but you had to make the best of what you had.

Back at Camp Evans, I saw the only Thompson sub-machine gun (the "Tommygun), I would ever see in Vietnam. It was carried by our Company First Sergeant. His name was Goddard, who had fought in Korea plus 3 tours in 'Nam. He was tall, strict, and hard enough to back it up. He hated civilians too, and their ways. We'd gotten back to Camp Evans somewhere around the timeframe Thanksgiving would have been. "Thanksgiving" in Vietnam, would come and go without notice. There was nothing to be thankful for over there, unless you were still alive, and you were glad EVERYDAY for that.

Anyway, with the "Christmas season" coming on, Goddard's sister had sent him a pair of very nice thick wool socks to help him keep his feet warm. A very nice gesture. problem WAS-------they were in bright "Christmas" colors. Our tent was about a hundred feet from Goddard's, and right around noon, you could hear him yelling and cursing at the top of his lungs, throwing things around, etc.

A few of us went outside, and directly, one dude came walking by at a fast pace, and warned us all to stay away from the "1st Shirt's" tent.

"What's going on?"

"Goddard just got a package of socks from his sister, and they ain't olive drab, and HE IS PISSED! He threw the whole package in the burn barrel!. Stay out of his way today, if you guys know what's good for ya!"

1st Sgt Goddard was one of those "unforgettable people" you'd expect to read about in Reader's Digest. he was a "Marine's Marine." Someone had once asked him if he was married. His answer became common knowledge to the entire camp............"If the Marine Corps wanted us to have WIVES, they'd have ISSUED them to us!"

He carried that Thompson, barked orders and strutted around with a "Patton" sort of stature, but as we would find out at Khe Sanh..........in combat, he also WALKED THE WALK. Remember that name GODDARD when we get into the TET Seige......

Just before Christmas itself, we loaded up in 6x6's and headed for some distant outpost up by the north/south DMZ, called Khe Sanh. And we were "loaded for bear." I knew this was gonna big a "big one" because all three rocket teams in the Company had been ordered to take the big stovepipes as well as the LAAWs. When the big "crew served" bazookas were coming with us, it meant something.

Larger quantities of ammo, C-rations and water would be flown up after we got there. Yeah, there something going on, or EXPECTED to be.

We got there on the day of what would have been Christmas Eve. In the morning, we would have the last hot breakfast we would have for the next 4 months. Looming out beyond the main Khe Sanh base itself, were a chain of "high-ground hills", 881 North, 881 South and 861.

***Strategic Hills are numbered as per how many meters above sea level they are***

"K" Company would be relieving another Marine company on 861, but just before we "saddled-up" to begin the long hike up there, this little supply jeep with a small trailer behind it came sloshing down the muddy road on "Main Street." As he got closer, the driver and I just sort of looked at each other as he pulled up and stopped.........

"Is that YOU, Bradbury??" Even under the helmet, that West Virginia accent was unmistakable..........it was Ron Patrick from Barstow (the other guy in that phone booth story).

I replied, "What are YOU doing here Ron?.......You're supposed to be in SUPPLY someplace!"

He thumbed a gesture behind him to his loaded trailer, and said.........."I'm still delivering SUPPLIES, but I gotta tell ya, I'd rather be back in Barstow right now! What are YOU guys doing here?"

"I ain't sure yet" I answered, but I guess we're gonna find out soon enough."

"Well", he said, "I gotta go. Maybe I'll see ya later, keep your head down!", and he drove off. I never DID see him again of course and have often wondered if he made it home.

By early afternoon, "K" Company made it to the top of 861, and the outfit we were relieving looked like a bunch of out-of-work, unshaven bums. They'd been expecting us, gave us the 50-cent tour of the trenchline and bunkers around the crest of the hill, and wasted no time vacating the premises, as soon as their Company Commander passed on his "notes" to ours.

We spent the next few hours filling in postions along the trenchlines and mortar pits. 3rd platoon was assigned to the stretch of trenchline that looked to the south, giving us a pretty good look at the main Khe Sanh base itself, where we had just come from.

2nd Platoon covered the northeast direction, with 1st Platoon watching the northwest.

For the 2nd time in my life, I was living on a hill, but 861 would soon prove to be a lot rougher hill than Potrero ever was. This was NOT a good "neighborhood" to be in.