Author Topic: Lives of squaddies:  (Read 753 times)

Offline Ripsnort

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Lives of squaddies:
« on: November 16, 2001, 09:18:00 AM »
This makes me so proud to be associated with hero's such as this squaddie, name withheld pending his approval, he may post it if he chooses.

Sorry I feel so patriotic, but Golly-geemit, I <S> all the armed forces that serve our great country:

 
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Army Airborne Ranger with Purple Heart, Bronze Star, Air Medal, and 5 other standard medals. Served with 82nd Airborne in USA, 101st Airborne in Vietnam, and 509th Airborne Battalion in Germany.

Commanded small units along the Laotian border looking for enemy base camps in 1968 Vietnam. Been shot down twice and crash landed once, and I wasn't even a pilot. I've stormed fortified hilltops, been surrounded all night by an attacking enemy, and was once forced to play dead, lying wounded without a weapon, while enemy troops that had just over run my position executed my two wounded friends. I visit their names on the wall and look at the space where mine should be."

[ 11-16-2001: Message edited by: Ripsnort ]

Offline skernsk

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« Reply #1 on: November 16, 2001, 09:28:00 AM »
Wow...<S>!

I can't imagine.  My boring life has nothing even close to that.

<I want to know who that person is>

Offline K West

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« Reply #2 on: November 16, 2001, 11:17:00 AM »
Thank you for sharing that with us Ripsnort.  Big <S> to that unnamed guy.

Westy

Offline Apache

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« Reply #3 on: November 16, 2001, 11:54:00 AM »
That unnamed guy is an incredible individual. One of the most complete people I've ever known. Thanks rip for the reminder.  :)

Offline Ripsnort

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« Reply #4 on: November 16, 2001, 12:04:00 PM »
After privately speaking with him via email, he was kind enough to relate more of the story, read on..(Granted Viet Nam and the war on that continent was a bad mark on US History, these men went to war and fought..even if it wasn't a good war, their service to us and our country is undeniable...remember who keeps you free...)

 
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I was the Army's smallest Ranger at the time. I slipped in just
under the height requirement. It was a dream come true. My earliest memories
as a child were my desire to become a Ranger Officer, and I had a Regular
Army Commission to boot.

My only wish is that I could serve in the Rangers now, in a war that is so
obviously right, where our Rangers are so obviously in control, instead of
the disruptive Vietnam War, where we were so outnumbered almost all of the
time.

There are so many unbelievable stories I could tell. They even seem a bit
incredible to me now that I look back on them, but they were so routine
then.

Let me tell you about 5 days of action, while we are operating as a combined
unit, back when I was a Lieutenant, along the Laotian border looking for
enemy base camps in 1968......

Aside from being the only Lt that lasted more than 2 weeks the entire time I
was there, I was a bit like the Lt that took over in the story of the Band
of Brothers episode just at the end of Bastogne, where they attack the town
of Foy. If you remember, he takes over under fire from a Lt that panics in
the field under fire. The new Lt runs across the line of fire in the open to
coordinate units, and then runs back to the other side. He is never hit, and
the troops are amazed. I mention this, because the men thought I had some
kind of special luck, and many tried desperately to transfer into my unit.
When overrun I was wounded, but lived and fully recovered while the others
died. After having 2 choppers shot out of the sky, mine is also hit, but
crash lands in the drop zone where I walk away. That same day, when coming
to the aid of another unit just ambushed, a medic was calling for help on
top of an open hill. Everyone looked at each other, but no one would go to
that obvious open ambush site. Being the leader I went. While kneeling on
top of that open hill helping hold the dangling leg of the wounded man I
looked over to see the NVA looking right back at me just 50 yards away. I
knew I was dead, but they just looked and let us live. As soon as we carried
the wounded man back, the entire firefight started again. The men were again
amazed at this luck.

Two additional Lt's were shot trying to take this hill, and then the Colonel
tells me it's my turn. Taking this hill requires an attack right out in the
open. The only change I make is to use Ranger tactics of firing like crazy,
and yelling, to make your enemy think they're gonna die. We take the hill
without one man wounded. Later that night I move out to ambush what I know
is coming back for revenge. We get em all. I still have the souvenirs and
their family photos.

The very next day we get surrounded in an old enemy base camp. We all know
it's the end when nightfall comes. I pass the word for everyone to use
Ranger tactics of never firing at night, just throw grenades. Don't let em
see you at anytime. We say our goodbyes and watch night fall. They attack
all night long with some bugle they keep blowing. In the morning I check and
find not one man even wounded. Two days later, after a long day, I have to
do the evening scout for an alternate position. The men want to mutiny,
because my being the only Lt means they always have to do this. I tell em
they're right, but being an officer I have to go and will welcome the help
from anyone who will join me. Scared stiff I head out into the jungle alone,
only to hear my radio operator say "if one zero goes I go", followed by the
entire unit. Hours later our position is under heavy artillery attack from
over in Laos. We take numerous wounded, but are not allowed to fire back
into Laos. Knowing it will be suicide to stay there, I lead the unit to the
alternate position I scouted earlier when they didn't want to go. We sit
there all night listening to the bombardment of our old location. Every man
knows they would be dead if they hadn't followed me earlier to scout out an
alternate site.

A couple of days later I land in a 1 ship landing zone right in the face of
the enemy. I report it's hot and that tells command to leave us there. We
make all sorts of noise, fire like hell, throw every grenade we have, and
with gunship support the NVA run off. The rest of the unit arrives and we
have a terrific fight. The next day I receive word that I will need to be
flown out in a chopper to the rear(my mother was very ill, but lived).
Instead of me leading the way as usual the CO tells a new replacement Lt to
lead his unit to the pickup site, because I probably have a lot on my mind.
They step on a mine and the Lt is killed. The men know I would have been
leading them down that same trail, except for the change.

Although I knew it wasn't true, they all consider me as having some special
luck as their Lieutenant. The others come and go within 2 weeks. I not only
lived, but they lived too. I knew it was just basic luck that would run out
soon, and I was really scared almost all of the time, but to them I had a
special touch that kept them alive. Believing in that, they followed me
anywhere, but I was very careful not to exploit that advantage. I never ever
risked a man without having taken all the precautions I could, and I always
walked up front to be with them and be their leader.

As a side note, two weeks after I left the unit 6 men were killed in one
night by firing a machine gun. The men later told me that it would never
have happened, because when I was there I always insisted "fight like
Rangers, don't ever fire a weapon in the jungle at night".

I've rambled on enough, thanks for your kind post. I don't mind if you want
to reveal my name or not.

Rangerbob
[/b]

[ 11-16-2001: Message edited by: Ripsnort ]

Offline Raubvogel

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« Reply #5 on: November 16, 2001, 12:10:00 PM »
Thanks for the story. <S!> Rangerbob

Offline skernsk

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« Reply #6 on: November 16, 2001, 12:17:00 PM »
<S> Rangerbob!!

You should write a darn book!

Offline Wilfrid

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« Reply #7 on: November 16, 2001, 12:17:00 PM »
Great stories, big <S> Rangerbob!
And Rip for bringing it to our attention.

Offline Gunthr

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« Reply #8 on: November 16, 2001, 12:29:00 PM »
<S> I love hearing about these experiences...
"When I speak I put on a mask. When I act, I am forced to take it off."  - Helvetius 18th Century

Offline Tac

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« Reply #9 on: November 16, 2001, 01:15:00 PM »
Dang. Now ill have to keep an eye out for a lucky virtual pilot as well!! <S>

Offline K West

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« Reply #10 on: November 16, 2001, 01:22:00 PM »
All I can say is <solemnly> "wow".  <S> to you and your comrades Rangerbob. Thank you for telling us.

 Westy

Offline Maverick

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« Reply #11 on: November 16, 2001, 09:42:00 PM »
Rangerbob <S!>

 
DEFINITION OF A VETERAN
A Veteran - whether active duty, retired, national guard or reserve - is someone who, at one point in their life, wrote a check made payable to "The United States of America", for an amount of "up to and including my life."
Author Unknown

Offline RangerBob

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« Reply #12 on: November 18, 2001, 12:20:00 AM »
Thanks all, but I feel a bit embarassed having all this posted on the bbs. It all started with my responding to Ripsnort with an Email.

It's important not to get the impression that I'm some kind of hero, or something special. Others who fought in similar situations will tell you that this is all really routine life in combat. Those with Silver Stars, and other important medals really earned them.

When I read my own stories I often wonder how I did those things, but I was a different person back then. The hardest part was getting through all that Ranger School training. You see, I could have quit that at any time, and be back in a warm bed in a few hours.

I wonder how many of us would have quit combat if we were actually allowed to? Getting out was something you had to earn for yourself. For example, I was wounded early on after arriving in country. That's when I was overrun and had to play dead. Naturally, I was horrified, and my courage was damaged by those events. While recovering for 2 weeks in a tent hospital, and light duty in the rear, all I could think about was staying away from the front. Then, I was tested. I was offered a job safe in the rear as an inventory officer at a transient base. After just one and one half days I had changed my mind, and I went AWOL back to my front line unit up north. I remember making that decision at night when I reasoned... I'm a Ranger, I wanted this all my life, those are my men without a leader, I can't accept this job in the rear, I couldn't live with myself if I took it before I've really earned it.

Upon arriving back I reported to the Colonel that I had just gone AWOL to get to the unit. He laughed and said, don't worry Lieutenant, nobody ever got Court Martialed for going to the front. He was right. I agonized over that decision for many a long jungle night. Many months later when I had earned my right to a rear job, I grabbed at the chance to live. (Lieutenants only had to serve 6 months minimum on line, because most of them never lasted more than a couple of weeks back then. It was sort off like the 25 mission minimum for early WWII B17 crews). Unfortunately, my so called rear job wasn't as safe as I had expected.

It's easy now to say I made the right decision to go back to the front. I lived, came home, and I'm in one piece. What would I be saying to myself right now if I lost both my legs, because of the decision to return to the front?

There are so many stories I could tell. Stories about men so close to each other, that only brothers like my friends on AH Apache and Commanche would understand. Stories of every day life so miserable you wouldn't understand. How would you like to get up each and every day, light a cigarette, and burn the leaches off your buddy. Stories of men so scared. Stories of a man that cried like a baby, while another held him in his arms like a mother would, and still others held his hand. A few days later that same soldier would be firing a machine gun, from his hip, in a daytime firefight, ammo belt dangling behind, like some John Wayne character.  Stories about how each night before dusk a group of us would gather around a coffee, and each person would have a different night to answer the question, " what would you do if you could live to be 30 years old". To us that was a fantasy not likely to happen. Stories of a firefight while we were set up for the evening, with bullets zipping through the trees, my diving for the communal coffee cup to save that valuable water we had just used for coffee ( water and coffee are all you think about in a hot jungle), while we all laughed uncontrollably during the middle of this shooting match as one private yelled "it's ok the Lieutenant's got the coffee", as if it was more important than our lives, and in some ways it was.

It was an entire lifetime of lessons all experienced in one long year, and those lessons have been with me ever since those days.

The most important thing to remember is that I was not some hero. We all lived it together.

Ranger Bob

[ 11-18-2001: Message edited by: RangerBob ]

[ 11-18-2001: Message edited by: RangerBob ]

Offline Mathman

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« Reply #13 on: November 18, 2001, 12:58:00 AM »
Rangerbob,

Though you and your peers may consider what you do/did as routine, I think most, if not all of us here would be in agreement in saying that it is not.  This is why we respect you and what you did.  This is why we are proud that we have people like you that are willing to protect our country.  This is why we give you praise.  This is why we are thankful that you do/did your "routine" for our country.

<S>

-math

Offline Sunchaser

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« Reply #14 on: November 18, 2001, 08:37:00 AM »
RangerBob,
We may have withdrawn from a ten year battle in Viet Nam but all who fought there helped win the war.

I look at the period from the end of WWII to the collapse of the USSR as THE WAR, sometimes cold, too often hot.

Those who fought in Korea and Viet Nam deserve all the Honors a Nation can give, unfortunately our Nation forgets easily and we expect our soldiers to fight and disappear.

Those who fought in Viet Nam were betrayed by their leaders, both at home and in the field.

They were betrayed by the media, ever hungry for fillers for the six o'clock news.

They were betrayed by our Universities, full of people who were there to avoid the draft and many teachers who were quite simply traitors.

You were forced to fight with tied hands and you did not lose, you were abandoned on the field, one of the Nations lowest moments.

To you and all others here who were there fighting for us, Thank You.