We came into 10 ALFA on Huey’s in the late afternoon. Probably around 4:00 pm on May 28^th, 1966. We came in low and fast. I could see the soldiers from the B, 2^nd 35^th standing alone in their positions. I’ve never forgotten the look on a particular soldiers face when my chopper flew over him. I could tell he was scared . . . really scared. He was alone, facing out towards the woods. At the time I didn’t think too much about why these guys were in one-man positions. We didn’t know they had been hit pretty hard.

We had heard it was hot, but we didn’t know the situation yet. Our chopper landed and we deployed to the far side of the LZ . . . away from the 2^nd, 35^th. My platoon, 3^rd platoon was setting up positions when Major Tyson, 2^nd, 35^th XO came by to inspect the positions. It was getting dark and it was overcast. Major Tyson came from my left and disappeared into the forest and the darkness. He was moving down the line to our right. It turned into the darkest night I ever experienced in Viet Nam. That old saying about not being able to see your hand in front of your face . . . well, at 10 ALFA it was true.

I was in a position with "Kit" Frazier and "Junior" Bonner. That night, at 1:00 pm we changed guard. It was my turn. I sat down and leaned against a tree figuring the tree would break my silhouette. A few minutes into my guard shift I heard some rustling in weeds. I turned my head and I heard the steps move out fast. I informed Sgt Frazier and he said to keep a sharp eye out. A few minutes passed, then it seemed like Hell broke loose and came running towards 3^rd Platoon.

We had sent an LP out a few yards into the woods. I believe the LP consisted of Sgt Noble Hyde, Richard R. Roundtree and I think a soldier named McCauley. It was dark so I was never really sure where they were. Somewhere to the front and off to my right. We were under heavy attack and the LP was breaking brush trying to get back to the perimeter. They kept yelling, "3^rd Herd! 3^rd Herd!" so we would know it was them coming in. The NVA were right behind them shooting at them, and us. They were caught between the NVA and our perimeter. Some of us were holding fire until they got inside the perimeter. Some were not. They all made it back . . . sort of. Richard R. Roundtree was Company A’s first KIA at 10-ALFA. He was wounded and lived until about 6:00 am. Our medic, "Doc" Ehrenzweig, was giving him mouth to mouth and trying to stop the bleeding.

After the LP had returned to our perimeter the platoon returned fire as intensely as we were receiving it. Each squad had to send someone back to the CP to get more ammo. The attack continued in waves for a few hours. Mortars were breaking in the trees overhead and all around us. Our mortars were giving it back to them. At one point the NVA broke through the line and were between our positions. Muzzle flashes were coming from all over the place. One of our machinegun positions had to withdraw to a new positions. The attack intensified. Lt. Larry Connor, Platoon Leader for 3^rd Platoon called in the mortars, or artillery . . . I was never sure which . . . right down on us. People were yelling to get down because the H.E. was going to come down on top of us. It pretty much did. I could feel myself being lifted off the ground . . . being bounced every time a shell hit close to us. The threat was as great from the shells hitting the trees above us as it was from hitting the ground around us.

Eventually, the shelling stopped and the NVA withdrew. All turned quite around 4 or 5 am. We were all wide-awake now.

Daylight came. It was a relief cause we knew they wouldn’t attack in the daylight. Most of us were ok. Whispers came down the line that Roundtree had died. Dust Off came in right after he died.

I remember everybody standing up and looking around at each other with this look of anxiety on all our faces. It was the first time that I’d clearly seen the positions on my right and left because of the fact that we had set up the positions so late in the afternoon. I remember seeing Pace Caldwell on my right . . . Dick Snyder and Bob White on my left. We all looked around waiting for someone to give the order to "move out." Someone yelled, "Alright, move out!"

Everyone started moving out on-line . . . keeping abreast and in sight of everyone else as much as we could. We walked just a few meters and there was a shot on my right. Then another. An NVA was moving across our front . . . running from right to left. He was empty handed with no gear and running fast. He fell. Then another NVA ran out, again from right to left. Another shot . . . and another. He fell right in front of the 1^st squad positions, into what turned out to be a stream bed about 75 yards out. It never occurred to us that we were being baited out, away from our perimeter. We proceeded outward to the streambed where we found 30 to 40 bodies scattered about. We found an NVA still alive but seriously wounded. He was dying. Within a few minutes he was gone. Then there was sporadic firing back at the LZ. 3^rd platoon got the word to turn around and head back to the LZ to support the perimeter that was under probing attack. We picked up and carried some NVA mortar rounds and tubes that we had found at the streambed. We were going to take them back to the CP for the "count." It was about 8:00am on the 29^th.

We did an about face and headed back towards the LZ. 3^rd squad was in front and 1^st squad bringing up the rear. "Junior" Bonner, Kit Frazier, Pace Caldwell, Dick Snyder, Bob White and myself were taking up the rear. Sporadic small arms fire broke out in front of the platoon. It sounded like AK’s. One shot, then two, then a series of automatic fire. Most of us thought it was our own guys on the perimeter shooting at us. We were so close to our own perimeter and this sort of thing had happened before to other units. After all, we couldn’t have been more than 100 meters from the perimeter . . . only 100 meters from safety . . . from our own people.

We couldn’t have been more than 30 yards from the 3^rd squad, yet we couldn’t see anyone. Then grenades started exploding. Someone yelled, "They’re PAVNS! They’re PAVNS!" Then grenade after grenade exploded . . . some of theirs, some of ours. I could hear the AK’s clearly now. I could hear M16’s returning fire. I could see the smoke. 1^st squad dropped the NVA mortar shells, along with the tubes, and rushed forward to help. We rushed forward to see Lt. Light, 1^st Platoon Leader, lying on the ground, next to a small tree, with blood coming from his forehead. Lt. Light yelled at us to move up front . . . to help out. To this day I have no idea why the 1^st platoon leader was out there, all alone, with 3^rd platoon.

We moved forward, under fire. I could see members of the 2^nd and 3^rd squad only 5 to 10 yards in front of us. We moved forward again, firing . . . rifles, shotguns, and grenade launchers. We moved into a position where we could support the rest of the platoon. We were all within 5 or 10 yards of each other, but because of the heavy underbrush, once we were in the prone position, we could only tell the other persons position by their voice, or screams, and by the sounds of the M-16.

I moved forward and to the right of Sgt Jesse Spencer. Pfc. Walter Wetzel, 2^nd squad, was laying down behind a small tree about 12 inches in diameter. I moved forward until my helmet was almost touching his crotch. Sgt Spencer was right next to him with his right arm draped over Wetzel’s left leg. All three of us were trying to get behind the same small tree. It was obvious by now that we were pinned down under heavy machine gun fire, with lighter automatic weapons and riflemen in support.

Pace Caldwell was a few feet to my left. I could see blood coming from his shoulder. Bob White moved to the right, in line with the rest of us. Dick Snyder moved to my left along with Kit Frazier and Junior Bonner. I lost sight of them after a few seconds. On my right was "Freeman," one of the machine gunners. He was shot thru the hand and the machine gun was damaged. He was saying something to me that I couldn’t hear when another bullet hit his thigh. I thought it was an incendiary round because I could see smoke coming from his wound as he moaned in pain. Within seconds, Freeman was hit again. I looked at Bob White and saw his head jerk and hit the ground. I thought he was dead. Then he lifted his head and adjusted his helmet. Bob White was hit twice more in the helmet before it was over.

As Jesse Spencer, Walter Wetzel, and I, lay behind this small tree, I briefly looked up and saw bullets coming thru the tree, tearing it apart. A bullet came across Wetzel’s butt. He started to get up from the intense pain of the wound on his butt. Spencer and I grabbed him and yelled at him to stay down. Thinking they had us zeroed in, Spencer and I crawled to the left of Wetzel looking for another, much bigger tree. I don’t know where Sgt Spencer went, but I never found that bigger tree. There just didn’t seem to be any trees big enough out there that morning.

Things stayed that way for what seemed like hours. Them firing at us . . . us firing at them. It was clear the 3^rd platoon was at a serious disadvantage. It became an issue of just hanging on until help could arrive. Some of us were out of ammo. Some of us had one or two rounds left. I had three shotgun shells left. Some of the guys picked up AK’s from dead PAVN’s because they had run out of 5.56 ammunition. Both machine guns were out of commission. And just when we thought things couldn’t get any worse someone yelled out, "They’re standing up. They’re getting ready to charge!" I remember thinking about having a shotgun and not having a bayonet mount, and how I had left my .45 back at my position before we moved out to sweep the area.

Then, like something out of some Hollywood movie, I saw a soldier named Wolfgang Wagner, coming towards me in a crouch. It told me 2^nd Platoon had reached us. They swept in from our right and took out the machine gun and provided cover while helping us withdraw with our wounded. The battle raged on after 3^rd platoon was brought back inside the perimeter.

Fighting would become so intense the mortar platoons, and even the 105 artillery units, would have to grab M-16’s, and aim the 105’s point blank into the woods, defending their own positions. I believe 6 helicopters were shot down by enemy ground fire. I remember, as we were defending the LZ and laying down fire, looking back over my shoulder to see one of the door gunners jump from about 20 feet up because his chopper had been hit and was in full flames. That particular chopper was carrying a supply of ammunition and exploded like a fireworks display. It wasn’t a very big LZ and seeing those choppers scattered in the LZ made it look even smaller. Cloud cover gave way and A1E’s were finally able to give us air support. I saw an F105 flying up and down the base of the mountain strafing the NVA positions.

As the battle progressed, more choppers arrived carrying reinforcements, which included 1^st/35^th battalion Recon platoon and Company "C" of the 1^st/35^th, plus more artillery and supplies. It was now about 3 or 4pm on the 29^th of May, 1966. All but intermittent sniper fire had stopped. The LZ had 3 rifle companies, plus a reinforced Recon Platoon on the perimeter supported by 105’s and 4.2 heavy mortars. (I say 3 rifle companies, however, "A" Company 1^st/35^th, and "B" Company 2^nd/35^th, together, didn’t quite make a full rifle company).

5:00pm on May 29^th, 1966 . . . LZ 10 ALFA was secure.

After things had calmed down we proceeded to tend to our wounded and gather up our KIA’s. As we walked around, I remember seeing 3^rd Plt Sgt Williams, lying there on his back, waiting for his turn to be medivac’d. He asked for a drink of water. I couldn’t get my canteen out fast enough. I felt as though I couldn’t do enough for him. I left my canteen with him as I walked away towards the perimeter. Plt Leader, Lt. Connor was lying next to him with a wound to his head and abdomen. He was talking to someone . . . his RTO I think. Maybe it was our Medic. There were others that I’ve since forgotten.

What was left of 3rd Platoon was assigned to do the "body count" because we had no NCO’s and/or leadership. Out of a 42-man platoon that arrived at 10 ALFA on the evening of May 28th, we were left with 11 men on the evening of the 29^th, and our ranking soldier was an E-4. We had no M-60’s, no grenade launchers, no radio, and some of us were still holding onto AK’s. Because of our weakened strength, and the total lack of platoon leadership, 3^rd platoon didn’t have to be on the perimeter the night of the 29^th. The next day the replacements arrived along with new weapons.

11 days later, we walked away from 10 ALFA.

There are parts missing from this story. Parts that someone who was in 1^st or 2^nd platoon can fill in. Maybe even someone from Command, or the 2^nd/35^th . Maybe one of them can shed some light on the events of the 28^th and 29^th of May, 1966. I only know what happened to my squad, and me, and what I saw at 10 ALFA. I still don’t know anything about the BIG picture of what happened there on those two days. I don’t even know if there WAS a big picture. After 9,000 miles and 36 years, 10 ALFA seems like such a small place.

For the people that like reference numbers and stats . . .

It’s my understanding that the NVA unit was the 33^rd NVA Regiment. There were 6 Huey’s brought down. 8 POW’s. 16 KIA and 90 WIA’s . 250 + NVA killed in action.

Company A, 1^st/35^th, KIA at 10 ALFA:

John Barry, Thomas Campbell, Charlie Carden, Sheldon Cohen, Richard Roundtree, Billy Patrick, Wallace Pilson, Sylvester Swinford, Walter Wetzel, Everett Light. (Note Lt. Light was KIA a few days after the battle had ended - Ed)

A lot of good men died at 10 ALFA . . . on both sides.

FOOTNOTE:

I’ve deliberately left out the circumstances surrounding the KIA’s. Why, I am not sure. Perhaps because the descriptions of how they died could be offensive, or disturbing, to some that might read this story. Or, perhaps because the details of their deaths need not overshadow their valiant efforts to survive. I will say this, everyone that lost his life at 10 ALFA died fighting for it.