Near Capture of an NVA Soldier
1LT Lynn W. Grace
This incident occurred during my command of the four dusters at the forward firing base of Gio Linh. The event took place a couple of weeks after one of our dusters was the “first to fire” to extract a marine squad surrounded by an infiltrating NVA regiment (Duster Fire Aids Marine Patrol).
My jeep driver, Chet, and I were driving from the Gio Linh firebase to our base camp at Dong Ha, about twelve miles away. The road, usually busy with military traffic, was eerily quiet that day. When we were approximately halfway between the two bases, I noticed a lone figure crossing a rice paddy to the left of the road. The person was about three or four hundred yards away, and I could barely make him out. I told Chet to speed up. When he asked me why, I pointed out the subject in the distance and told him, “Do not let him cross the road before we get there. Chet increased our speed, but not by as much as I had wanted.
As we got closer and I began to see him better, he looked like a Vietnamese soldier crossing an open paddy. Several questions came to mind: What was a soldier doing alone in the middle of a rice paddy? Was he North Vietnamese or South Vietnamese, and why was he out there by himself? Again, I told Chet to speed up. However, this time the jeep let us know when to be happy with what we got.
As our speed increased, I noticed the soldier also quickened his pace, trying to beat us across the road. As we got closer, my suspicions grew. He was dressed in a black uniform instead of the lighter-colored uniform typically worn by South Vietnamese soldiers. I couldn’t see any weapon on him, and he was very clearly trying to avoid eye contact.
The closer we got to the intercept point, the more convinced I became that he was a North Vietnamese soldier on a mission. He continued to speed up. As we approached within 50-40 yards of the intercept point, he managed to weasel across the road. By the time we reached the spot, he was about 20 yards into the paddy on the right side of the road, with his back to us, trying to hustle away.
I instructed Chet to pull over at the point where the soldier crossed. I drew my .45 pistol and took a couple of steps toward him, calling for him to halt in Vietnamese. He kept his back to me, speaking Vietnamese and gesturing with one hand as if he didn’t understand my commands. I could not see what mischief the other hand was up to. Although he didn’t try to run, he continued to ease further away. This basic exchange went on for a couple of minutes. And by this time, I was 10 to 20 yards into the rice paddy with no success in stopping him with just words. I believed at this point that warning shots wouldn’t have any effect. I had him, but only if I was willing to shoot him.
Suddenly, my driver yelled, “Sir, do you really want to go out any further?” There’s a well-known saying, “Out of the mouth of babes.” Well, the same holds true for sergeants.
When we eventually got to Dong Ha, I reported the incident to battalion headquarters. Their comments surprised me. They said it was probably a good idea that I didn’t press the issue further. The North Vietnamese had captured South Vietnamese uniforms and were infiltrating the area extensively. They were expecting major fighting in our area within days. I surmised that the soldier was likely a messenger coordinating activities with another unit. Not much more was discussed about the incident at headquarters.
On the way back to Gio Linh, Chet and I talked about it. We both agreed that it would’ve caused too much paperwork in the long run.
Near Capture of an NVA Soldier
1LT Lynn W. Grace
This incident occurred during my command of the four dusters at the forward firing base of Gio Linh. The event took place a couple of weeks after one of our dusters was the “first to fire” to extract a marine squad surrounded by an infiltrating NVA regiment (Duster Fire Aids Marine Patrol).
My jeep driver, Chet, and I were driving from the Gio Linh firebase to our base camp at Dong Ha, about twelve miles away. The road, usually busy with military traffic, was eerily quiet that day. When we were approximately halfway between the two bases, I noticed a lone figure crossing a rice paddy to the left of the road. The person was about three or four hundred yards away, and I could barely make him out. I told Chet to speed up. When he asked me why, I pointed out the subject in the distance and told him, “Do not let him cross the road before we get there. Chet increased our speed, but not by as much as I had wanted.
As we got closer and I began to see him better, he looked like a Vietnamese soldier crossing an open paddy. Several questions came to mind: What was a soldier doing alone in the middle of a rice paddy? Was he North Vietnamese or South Vietnamese, and why was he out there by himself? Again, I told Chet to speed up. However, this time the jeep let us know when to be happy with what we got.
As our speed increased, I noticed the soldier also quickened his pace, trying to beat us across the road. As we got closer, my suspicions grew. He was dressed in a black uniform instead of the lighter-colored uniform typically worn by South Vietnamese soldiers. I couldn’t see any weapon on him, and he was very clearly trying to avoid eye contact.
The closer we got to the intercept point, the more convinced I became that he was a North Vietnamese soldier on a mission. He continued to speed up.
As we approached within 50-40 yards of the intercept point, he managed to weasel across the road. By the time we reached the spot, he was about 20 yards into the paddy on the right side of the road, with his back to us, trying to hustle away.
I instructed Chet to pull over at the point where the soldier crossed. I drew my .45 pistol and took a couple of steps toward him, calling for him to halt in Vietnamese. He kept his back to me, speaking Vietnamese and gesturing with one hand as if he didn’t understand my commands. I could not see what mischief the other hand was up to. Although he didn’t try to run, he continued to ease further away. This basic exchange went on for a couple of minutes. And by this time, I was 10 to 20 yards into the rice paddy with no success in stopping him with just words. I believed at this point that warning shots wouldn’t have any effect. I had him, but only if I was willing to shoot him.
Suddenly, my driver yelled, “Sir, do you really want to go out any further?” There’s a well-known saying, “Out of the mouth of babes.” Well, the same holds true for sergeants.
When we eventually got to Dong Ha, I reported the incident to battalion headquarters. Their comments surprised me. They said it was probably a good idea that I didn’t press the issue further. The North Vietnamese had captured South Vietnamese uniforms and were infiltrating the area extensively. They were expecting major fighting in our area within days. I surmised that the soldier was likely a messenger coordinating activities with another unit. Not much more was discussed about the incident at headquarters.
On the way back to Gio Linh, Chet and I talked about it. We both agreed that it would’ve caused too much paperwork in the long run.