May 6, 1968 Revisited (Neil)

Chronicle of 2015 meeting with NVA battalion commander Tha, composed on train from Nha Trang to DaNang. This includes my only detailed written remembrances of the May 6 Battle of Nhi Ha. We fought at Nhi Ha for 14 days, but this day was the most brutal for my company, specifically 2nd and 3rd platoons.

From my Foxhole-May 4 Assault on Nhi Ha

From my Foxhole-May 4 Assault on Nhi Ha

 

It was 0900 March 26 . Mr Tha, a fit 87 year-old gentlemen, met us with a warm smile and firm handshake.   His grandson, most personable and quite fluent in English, was present to serve as interpreter.  With Danny documenting via video and camera, Captain Tha and I waded into discussion of that May 6 engagement, which involved 2^nd and 3^rd platoon  from my company, A 3/21 196^th Light Infantry.  1st platoon had been held in reserve. 

Lacking the stamina to dive too deeply in this writing, I’ll nevertheless provide scattered details of this meeting with my former enemy and provide some explanatory background.  Figures are tough to recall with precision, but should be accurate or very close thereto.

The NVA had mustered the largest force ever assembled for a battle during the entire war with a goal of capturing the Marine base at Dong Ha.  Rushed north to reinforce the Marines, my unit arrived May 1.  From then until the subject engagement, of which Mr. Tha and I share commonality, it had been four days of steady fighting. On the afternoon of May 6, Co. A’s 2^nd platoon, under Lt. Smith, and 3^rd platoon, led by Lt. Kimball, began their patrol northward from our hastily-dug entrenchments towards the DMZ. My understanding is that the intended goal was recon with the idea of determining the location the NVA force without locking into a sustained engagement.  While setting up for the patrol, there was what seemed at the time to be an insignificant “adjustment” within 2^nd platoon.  In my recollection, the intention was for my squad, led by Sgt. Haddock, to serve as our platoon’s point element.  I was to be point man.  However, as it turned out, my squad ended up on the left flank. It was Bill Baird who then became point man for the lead squad.  The remaining rifle squad set up on the right flank. With the flanking squads “dropped back” from the lead squad, the result is a wedge formation. The machine gun squad and CP would be in the center of this wedge. This is all from memory, so I beg for accuracy.  Regardless, it is safe to say that confusion existed as to which squad would walk point. 3^rd platoon moved out in similar formation on our right with 1^st platoon behind in reserve. 

OK, having provided a brief overview, it’s time to get back to Mr. Tha’s house, where we’re sitting side by side on a wicker sofa.  Photos, newspaper articles, documents, the “Nightmare Battle of Nhi Article”,  and a personalized “Magnificent Bastards” were presented as gifts. “To Mr. Tha, a Brave Soldier; Respected Foe in 1968, Respected Friend Today”. 

I learned that on May 6 Captain Tha’s force of about 300 men had entrenched at a point where he had anticipated our arrival. Moving north, as described above, the approximately 70 men from my company could hardly imagine the meat grinder into which they were walking. All hell broke loose and, with an entrenched enemy outnumbering our exposed troops about 4 to 1, it was a disaster that will not be detailed by me.  Of significance, though, was the “switch” that placed Bill Baird as point for the lead squad.  That adjustment allowed my squad, now on the platoon’s left flank, to scramble behind the bank of Jones Creek, the only reasonable cover from the withering enemy fire.  The chapter in “Magnificent Bastards” chronicling this battle is accurately entitled “Alpha Annihilated”.  Although nineteen wounded men were extracted during withdrawal, fourteen comrades, one being Bill Baird, were left on the battlefield as I and other survivors finally broke off the engagement and somehow escaped the NVA's “kill zone”. It was an indescribably horrific ordeal. That night, I was one of four men ordered to serve on an LP (listening post) far out from our entrenchments.  The purpose was to spot and report enemy troop movement so as to alert our main force of an impending attack. During the night, we heard the words, “help me” coming from what seemed to be Jones Creek. With no established pass codes audible, we considered this an NVA trick and called in artillery, which silenced the voice. Surprisingly, the NVA did not attack that night. Following my LP’s pre-dawn arrival back at the main force, a figure appeared in the distance coming up from Jones Creek. It turned out to be Desmond, one of the men who had been left on the field of battle. He said that he had been lying beside Bill Baird, who was wounded and couldn’t move.  He indicated that he had remained concealed until near darkness, then stood up and slowly walked away to the creek. He related that, en route to the spot where he tried to get the attention of my LP, he killed two NVA before losing his rifle. He had left the wounded Baird, who was surrounded by our dead and dying comrades.  Another of the fourteen, Joe DeMare, made it back to our perimeter. As I recall, he said that he had played dead when an NVA rolled him over, then crawled back all the way to our unit’s position. His bloody knees served as evidence. It wasn’t until  May 8 that we managed to get back to recover our bloated, maggot-riddled bodies, which had been in the hot sun for two days. The condition of our soldiers’ corpses and the stench created an unforgettably sickening situation. We loaded the bodies into Marine otters and headed back to our entrenched position. I, along with one other survivor, was asked to don gas masks, climb into the otter, and unload the bodies. It was a gruesome and traumatic task.  Of the fourteen men left on the field of battle, Desmond and DeMare managed to make it back on their own. Eleven bodies were recovered May 8.  Helping identify and tag the dead, I objected to one body being incorrectly tagged as Baird.  Please understand that the condition of the bodies made ID very difficult. When the process was completed, it was determined that Bill Baird was missing….MIA.  Bill finally made it home in 1973, when the POW’s were released.  Until the names of those returning appeared in the newspaper, I had assumed that he was dead.  I was shocked. Upon Baird’s arrival at Valley Forge for debriefing, I managed to engage in a lengthy phone conversation with him. The call was recorded by the government. I’ll just say that he was understandably bitter and harbored extreme animosity for Desmond, the man who abandoned him.  And now reflect back to the confusion in formation that caused Baird’s squad to be point, which afforded my squad the cover of Jones Creek.

Now we’re back to Mr. Tha to and I sitting side by side at his house.  Reviewing his diagram of the battle, my eyes immediately noticed the name of one man…..Bill Baird. Mr. Tha had marked the spot where he found him.  Back and forth via the interpretive skills of his grandson, we talked about battle particulars. His interest in a US soldier that he discovered as darkness neared the eve of May 6 was most evident.  “Who was this man”, he queried repeatedly. I was admittedly somewhat confused.  Mr. Tha said that his men had found a surviving soldier in the creek, trying to escape. They were about to eliminate him with rifle fire when Captain Tha ordered them not to shoot. When I asked why he would make such an order, his response was that the man was unarmed (rifle assumed dropped in the creek) and trying to escape. He felt letting him go to be the “right” thing to do. Then it hit me like a brick wall….Desmond.  After being spared by Captain Tha, Desmond worked his way along the creek until near my LP. The story about walking from the battlefield under cover of darkness and killing two NVA en route is somewhat conflicting, though, with Mr. Tha’s account. He says that he has always wanted to learn the identity of the US soldier that he had allowed to escape and to someday meet him.  His detailed account of Bill Baird and the spared soldier, Desmond, was mentally overwhelming. 

Our meeting continued with conversation regarding various aspects of the battle.  Mr. Tha asked, at one point, if we had trouble identifying our bodies. My response was that I recall it involving difficulty, but we managed.  He then referenced metal ID tags that US soldiers wear. “Dog tag”, I responded.  Well, it seems that he had ordered his men not to remove the tags from our bodies.  He pulled out his helmet, worn during the battle, and placed in on his head.  When he pulled out a safety razor, I had an idea what was coming next.  According to Mr. Tha, the razor was taken from the body of one of our dead. It had belonged to Lt. Kimball, 3^rd platoon leader.  Mr Tha would like me to locate Kimball’s family, asking that they meet with him in Vietnam to retrieve the razor. I promised to try. My effort to secure the razor for transport to the US was unsuccessful. Mr. Tha’s forces lost 56 killed May 6, all of whom were hastily buried nearby. Following the war’s end in 1975, he took it upon himself to locate and exhume the bodies of all of his May 6 dead for proper reburial of the remains. In fact, he did so with all KIA’s that died under his command during the war….570 soldiers in all.  Amazingly, this hardened warrior turned to a life of healing following the war, acquiring an education in medicine and becoming a physician. From there, he set to work helping those in need, never accepting pay.  

  My impression is that my former foe is a compassionate, principled, and caring man.  He expressed regret and sympathy to families of the US soldiers killed May 6. Wading through the memories was as tough for him as it was for me.  Regardless of NVA or US allegiance, ground combat in Vietnam was brutal.