The unsung vietnam thread

[drow 0]

sry to spam,

but damn spongebob, that pic is taken from the highest tower ever, or the oldest chopper ever (all wood)

[SpongeBob 0]

sry to spam,

but damn spongebob, that pic is taken from the highest tower ever, or the oldest chopper ever (all wood)  

it was taken from this tower on Hill 25, Quang Nam Province, II corps

And speaking of tents/hooches, check out this one, plywood floors, low wall, still the raised tent sides for ventilation, these would most likely be found on "permanent" bases and rear bases rather on bases that would be moved reqularly like Fire bases, etc...

[AKK 0]

Thanks all

I have made seriose improvements since my post.

Quote[/b] ]how about  making a CP tent, with 3 feet high sandbag wall going around

Quote[/b] ]even sandbags around the tent leaves little protection vs mortar rounds

Ha

I planned on that thanks . yeah man force protections only good for small arms fire.

Quote[/b] ]And speaking of tents/hooches, check out this one, plywood floors, low wall, still the raised tent sides for ventilation, these would most likely be found on "permanent" bases and rear bases rather on bases that would be moved reqularly like Fire bases, etc...

Yeah modified "Quickie" Sea huts. I'm lookin at some of them too  

[bmgarcangel 0]

LOL

AKK

Good work Lad

Hey drow, you need more work on em bushes?

[AKK 0]

OK boys and girls heres a little taste of some action.

And no some of the stuff in the pics not compleate as you can see. But I thought It was a good shot. And after all this is an addon and mod discussion forum

Its set on MDSZ put out by the fab guys at Hells Circus. Which I truely love. Great island!

If yawl dont like then   oh well!!!

Hows it look?  

PS. No offence ment to any of you USMC boys out there. I,m just all ARMY hoooah

[drow 0]

I see the ingredients for something great!!! but as of now that doesnt really look like a fire base, not that you could make it any better, it looks sweet, we just need to build it into the island with the right ground textures etc. not to mention positioning it on top of a lovely Vietnam hill!

Fantastic work as per usuall AKK!

edit - I hope our forums are back up soon, this is going on two days... I am thinking to start a temporary forum inside OFPNAM's forums for us to use to communicate in the meantime, I need to check with Hammy but Im sure he'd be cool with it.  Our forum host told me everything was fine, but now this is the second time being down, and now down for 2 days,,, we may need a new host.

[AKK 0]

Wasnt goin for the "Real" feell!! It was more of an addon display If ya get me

As you'll notice everythings buched up. I just deleted most of another map I have and copy and pasted from other "test" areas !

[drow 0]

a display of genious!

[AKK 0]

[SpongeBob 0]

Wow, that's the grassiest FSB I've ever seen

THat's real fine work AKK, with the limitations the OFP engine (no trenches/bunkers) above ground structures, properly done, will be as good as the real thing.

Keep up the good work!

[AKK 0]

Ok all you grass haters........... here!!!

But it seems that the whole unit exept the cannon cockers went home

Grass Haters!!!!!!!

[bmgarcangel 0]

Black Panther's Helmet

Dale Wiese

176th AHC

'67 - '68

Minuteman 230

"Oregon Taxi"

After 36 years of stewardship of a sacred possession, the rightful owner has been found.

In 1967, I was the Crew Chief with 176th AHC. My UH-1D, named the "Oregon Taxi", assisted in supporting two (2) Brigades of the 101st, 1/327, 2/327 and 2/502. The AO at that time was Que Son, Happy Valley's, Tam Ky and points west.

Many occasions we conducted CC (Command and Control) missions with Company and Brigade Commanders. 1/327th was LTC. Jerry Morse, "Ghost Rider" and 2/327 was LTC. Edmund Abood "Black Panther".

In these past 36 years, LTC. Abood has always stayed in memory. I never had the opportunity to personally meet the man, only fly him and his staff on CC flights, and into battle. Although, this man left a deep and impressing impact on me, for many years. LTC. Abood working closely with his young LT's and SSgt in the thick of battle, to boxing on the beaches of Chu Lai.

It was approx. July '67 was LTC. Abood's last flight with me, just before the 1st Brigade was pulled from the field and sent to Chu Lai. The LTC. left his "Black Panther" flight helmet in my copter. I kept it in my helmet bag and stored on my copter for quite awhile, hoping to return to him on the next CC flight. Unfortunately, that never happened.

I was later assigned to the 5th Special Forces and Prairie Fire missions out of Khe Sahn and Long Vei. I believe during that time the 1st Brigade was reassigned further north, possibly Camp Evans.

Upon getting ready to DEROS, I still had the helmet, and I was not going to let any REMF take it from me. So, I had to pull the earphones and microphone of the helmet to render it useless or scrap. Then and only then was I able to ship it home, hence that is where it has stayed for 36 years.

After attending my first reunion in 2000, I am now ready for another closure and give up my sacred possession, "Black Panthers" flight helmet to the rightful owner, COL. Edmund Abood.

I have sent him his helmet, my sacred possession, but his memory is what really matters to me. I still see him in the Screaming Eagles newspaper, squaring off with his troops, letting anyone take the first swing. I can still hear him teaching, counseling, collaborating, and encouraging the troops on the ground in the thick of battle. LTC. Abood's leadership was unique and will always be with me.

I wish COL. Abood and the complete 1st Brigade the best and long happy lives.

The 1st Brigade truly had "The Best". (NFS)

Sincerely and Thanks to All of you,

Dale Wiese

CE, 176th AHC

Minuteman 230

"Oregon Taxi"

[bmgarcangel 0]

Honor Among Soldiers

Joseph L. Galloway

If you have fed from a steady diet of Hollywood movies about Vietnam you probably believe that everyone who wore a uniform in America's long, sad involvement in war in Vietnam is some sort of a clone of Lt. William Calley---that all three million of them were drug-crazed killers and rapists who rampaged across the pastoral landscape.

Those movies got it wrong, until now. There is one more Hollywood film now playing called We Were Soldiers and it gets it right. Ask any Vietnam veteran who has gone to see the movie. In fact, ask any American who has gone to see it. It is based on a book I wrote with my lifelong friend Lt. Gen. (ret) Hal Moore; a book written precisely because we believed that a false impression of those soldiers had taken root in the country which sent them to war and, in the end, turned its back on both the war and the warriors.

I did four tours in Vietnam as a war correspondent for United Press International---1965-66, 1971, 1973 and 1975. In the first

three of those tours at war I spent most of my time in the field with the troops and I came to know and respect them and even love them, though most folks might find the words "war" and "love" in the same sentence unsettling if not odd.

In fact, I am far more comfortable in the company of those once-young soldiers today than with any other group except my own family. They are my comrades-in-arms, the best friends of my life and if ever I were to shout "help!" they would stampede to my aid in a heartbeat. They come from all walks of life; they are black, white, Hispanic, native American, Asian; they are fiercely loyal, dead honest, entirely generous of their time and money. They are my brothers and they did none of the things Oliver Stone or Francis Ford Coppola would have you believe all of them did.

On the worst day of my life, in the middle of the worst battle of the Vietnam War, in a place called Landing Zone X-Ray in the Ia

Drang Valley of Vietnam, I was walking around snapping some photographs when I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. It was a tall, lanky GI who jumped out of a mortar pit and ran, zig-zagging under fire, toward me. He dove under the little bush I was crouched behind. "Joe! Joe Galloway! Don't you know me, man? It's Vince Cantu from Refugio, Texas!" Vince Cantu and I had graduated together from Refugio High School, Class of '59, 55 boys and girls. We embraced warmly. Then he shouted over the din of gunfire: "Joe, you got to get down and stay down. It's dangerous out here. Men are dying all around."

Vince told me that he had only ten days left on his tour of duty as a draftee soldier in the 1st Battalion 7th U.S. Cavalry, 1st Cavalry Division (Airmobile). "If I live through this I will be home in Refugio for Christmas." I asked Vince to please visit my mom and dad, but not tell them too much about where we had met and under what circumstances. I still have an old photograph from that Christmas visit---Vince wearing one of those black satin Vietnam jackets, with his daughter on his knee, sitting with my

mom and dad in their living room.

Vince Cantu and I are still best friends.

When I walked out and got on a Huey helicopter leaving Landing Zone X-Ray I left knowing that 80 young Americans had laid down

their lives so that I and others might survive. Another 124 had been terribly wounded and were on their way to hospitals in Japan or the United States. I left with both a sense of my place, among them, and an obligation to tell their stories to any who would listen. I knew that I had been among men of honor and decency and courage, and anyone who believes otherwise needs to look in his own heart and weigh himself.

Hal Moore and I began our research for the book-to-be, We Were Soldiers Once.and Young, in 1982. It was a ten-year journey to find and ultimately to bring back together as many of those who fought in LZ Xray and LZ Albany, a separate battle one day after ours only three miles away in which another 155 young Americans died and another 130 were wounded. We had good addresses for perhaps no more than a dozen veterans, but we mailed out a questionnaire to them to begin the process.

Late one night a week later my phone rang at home in Los Angeles. On the other end was Sgt. George Nye, retired and living very quietly by choice in his home state of Maine. George began talking and it was almost stream of consciousness. He had held it inside him for so long and now someone wanted to know about it. He described taking his small team of engineer demolitions men into XRay to blow down some trees and clear a

safer landing zone for the helicopters. Then he was talking about PFC Jimmy D. Nakayama, one of those engineer soldiers, and how a misplaced napalm strike engulfed Nakayama in the roaring flames. How he ran out into the fire and screamed at another man to grab Jimmy's feet and help carry him to the aid station. My blood ran cold and the hair stood up on the back of my neck.

I had been that man on the other end of Nakayama. I had grabbed his ankles and felt the boots crumble, the skin peel, and those slick bones in my hands. Again I heard Nakayama's screams. By then we were both weeping. I knew Nakayama had died a day or two later in an Army hospital. Nye told me that Jimmy's wife had given birth to a baby girl the day he died---and that when Nye returned to base camp at An Khe he found a letter on his desk. He had encouraged Nakayama to apply for a slot at Officer Candidate School. The letter approved that application and contained orders for Nakayama to return immediately to Ft. Benning, Ga., to enter that course.

George Nye is gone now. But I want you to know what he did with the last months of his life. He lived in Bangor, Maine, The year was 1991 and in the fall plane after plane loaded with American soldiers headed home from the Persian Gulf War stopped there to refuel. It was their first sight of home. George and some other local volunteers organized a welcome at that desolate airport. They provided coffee, snacks and the warm "Welcome home, soldier" that no one ever offered George and the millions of other Vietnam veterans. George had gone out to the airport to decorate a Christmas tree for those soldiers on the day he died.

When we think of ourselves we think Shakespeare, Henry IV, Act IV, Scene 3:

"We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;

For he today that sheds his blood with me

Shall be my brother."

Honor and decency and uncommon courage were common among

these soldiers and all the soldiers who served in Vietnam. I think of how they were, on patrol, moving through jungle or rice paddies. Nervous, on edge, trying to watch right, left, ahead, behind, all at once. A friend once described it as something like looking at a tree full of owls. They were alert for sign, sound or smell of the enemy. But they also watched each other closely. At the first sign of the oppressive heat and exhaustion getting to someone the two or three guys around would relieve him of some or all of the heavy burden that the Infantryman bears: 60 or 70 pounds of stuff. Rifle and magazines. A claymore mine or two. A couple of radio batteries. Cans of C-Rations. Spare socks. Maybe a book. All that rides in the soldier's pack. They would make it easier for him to keep going. They took care of each other, because in this situation each other was all they had.

When I would pitch up to spend a day or two or three with such an outfit I was, at first, an object of some curiosity. Sooner or later a break would be called and everyone would flop down in the shade, drink some water, break out a C-Ration or a cigarette. The GI next to me would ask: What you doing out here? I would explain that I was a reporter. "You mean you are a civilian? You don't HAVE to be here?" Yes. "Man, they must pay you loads of money to do this." And I would explain that, no, unfortunately I worked for UPI, the cheapest news agency in the world. "Then

you are just plain crazy, man." Once I was pigeonholed, all was all right. The grunts understood "crazy" like no one else I ever met. The welcome was warm, friendly and open. I was probably the only civilian they would ever see in the field; I was a sign that someone, anyone, outside the Big Green Machine cared how they lived and how they died.

It didn't take very long before I truly did come to care. They were, in my view, the best of their entire generation. When their

number came up in the draft they didn't run and hide in Canada. They didn't turn up for their physical wearing pantyhose or full of this chemical or that drug which they hoped would fail them. Like their fathers before them they raised their right hand and took the oath to protect and defend the Constitution of the United States. It is not their fault that the war they were sent to fight was not one that the political leadership in Washington had any intention of winning. It is not their fault that 58,200 of them died, their lives squandered because Lyndon Johnson and, later, Richard Nixon could not figure out some decent way to cut our losses and leave the Vietnamese to sort the matter out among themselves.

As I have grown older, and so have they, and first the book and now the movie have come to pass I am often asked: Doesn't this close the loop for you? Doesn't this mean you can rest easier? The answer is no, I can't. To my dying day I WILL remember and honor those who died, some in my arms. I WILL remember and honor those who lived and came home carrying memories and scars that only their brothers can share and understand.

They were the best you had, America, and you turned your back on them.

Joe Galloway

When asked for permisson to post this, Joe Galloway wrote,

"You have my permission to post that article anywhere you wish. Every word in it came straight from the heart. It was published last fall in The Chicago Tribune, but I own the copyright".

Joe Galloway

[AKK 0]

whats your point

[Sgt. Stryker 0]

i was wondering the same thing, kinda smells of spam....

[bmgarcangel 0]

Na I was just trying to give them some ideas about what they could put in a campaign. In fact I have another idea.

My grandpa, Henmar Gabriel, was a Colonel in in the Green Berets and spent 3 tours of duty over in Vietnam, his last right before Qui Trang got overran in the early 70's.

Through the army he was able to fly FAC planes ( calling in the bombers ), fly cobras ( he, as far as I know, engaged the enemy a few times in the cobra ), went on patrols in south vietnam, got in engagements with the NVA and VC.

He also knew 7th Calvary buff Lt. Colonel Moore who led his men into the Ia Drang valley in 1965 ( in fact he still knows him today, i'm trying to get in contact with Moore so I can get some information for my book i'm writing )

And frankly, Drow, I was curious if you could include some of my grandpa's experiences in your mod. Maybe as one of the characters ( but not with his name because I don't think my grandpa wants it on a computer game right now )

Also, if you'd like, I can get some information out of him on like locations of battles and skirmishes he was in so that you could incooprate it better and more realistically into your mods campaign. I can also talk to Retired Lt. Colonel Moore about a few things if you'd like too. Just name it and i'll do it for you!

~Bmgarcangel

[the_shadow 0]

wow, this is... truly..... sad reading (the article by Joe galloway).... i must say i have trouble keeping my tears away ehen i read this.... gotta read that book.....

man, war is sad....

[drow 0]

yea i just read that post all now, got shivers down my spine,

i still havent read that book

"We Were Soldiers Once, and Young",

i own it and hate it because since the movie they put Mel Gibsons face on the cover and its the only edition i can find...

I think i will read it now, its just collecting dust (dont worry i have millions of books).

but hey just to be a bastard, I have to disaggree with some things he said,

1. that is the sappiest war movie ever, or one of them.

It overly dramatizes everything, totally mixes up shit loads of facts, and it shows us as victorious heros, when actually we got totally fucked up in the Ia Drang, the command and planning was totally rediculous. There was an even worse blood bath for the guys who were ordered to walk to LZ albany for extraction... if you recall, that wasnt in the movie.

(its actually aight on DVD tho, because you can skip forward thru the long sections of wifey drama back home, and the combat parts are really quite good)

2. just because everyone he knew or remembers was top notch doesnt mean there wasnt alot of fuckin crazies who loved the killin and all that... it was a crazy land, that bread craziness. Many vets speek of their time there as if they were a wild animal, running off of instinct, killing without remorse, over and over... it desencitizes you, changes "good" people into killers,  but isnt that the army?

I do agree strongly with many of his views, but remember nothing about the Vietnam war is Black and White.

[bmgarcangel 0]

I have some information about my grandpa you might want to read......

But first...i'm getting some permission from my grandpa to post it!

[SpongeBob 0]

I was reading about how VC sappers would dress down to shorts, and cover their body with mud for greater concealment when infiltrating base defenses.

Now if most US bases have the brown dirt texture, how about making a VC unit that has black shorts, and the rest of the body covered in a similar brown dirt texture. Give him a SMG or pistol, and a few grenades/satchel charges, and a high stealth value.

These guys would be the one that would open up the defenses for the main force to attack through. So not sure if this can be done, but you know how black ops can hide body, these sappers should be able to remove those barbed wire rolls or other small defenses.

[Sgt. Stryker 0]

didnt sappers usually desroy the barbed wires by sometimes blowing them up along with them selves? Sappers (i thnk) where nothing more than first wave suicide bombers aka damn good target pracrtice. It would be cool though to have a mud covered VC for night missions, sometime si believe they went naked or wore louin cloths? anyways cool idea.

[SpongeBob 0]

Here's the passage that gave me the idea

Quote[/b] ]Also, in late spring, the P31st attacked the Binh Nghia PFs. They crossed the river and stole through the back sections of the Binh Yen Noi hamlete, creeping up undetected to the foot of PF Hill. They had their attack route plotted and their bangalore torpedoes and satchels charges ready. All they needed was for their lead sapper to clear a path through the wire. The man stripped off his clothes and plastered himself with mud and dirt so he would blend with the bare earth beneath the barbed wire and wiggled forward, holding a dozen strips of bamboo cord between his teeth. He had to worm his way through five separate rolls of concertina wire. He inched up to the first strand, grasped a coil of wire and tied it back to its neighbor. He did the same with the adjourning coil, opening a gap of about a foot, and slithered through. He was at the second roll. Through. The third. Through. The forth. Through. The fifth. Through. He tied back the coils and looked up.

Then they'd have specific objectives, like a MG bunker to destroy with the opening volley, usually satchels or even some carried RPGs. Then they had to cause as much damage and death as possible before they were killed.

[drow 0]

gotta respect that eh  

EDIT -

they would go straight for the command bunker... with the bigass radio antenna stickin out  

also secondary objectives were set to each sapper... they woudl run around tossing sachels and other explosives into sleeping GI's bunkers etc.

and they didnt always die either, a few would creep in (i didnt know about the tying back the barbed wire with bamboo thing, pretty resourcefull), once the few in there blew the command bunker (communications for the US down, as well as the signal for the commie charge) the rest of the fuckers would attack, sometimes coming right thru the main entrance if they had enuff commie hordes, and they would make every attempt to escape after the initial confusion was over and the GI's start to fight back, unless of course a base over-run seemed possible.

[bmgarcangel 0]

I have both the stories now from my grandpa..I got his permission....here is his first tour in Vietnam Biography

Quote[/b] ]TEMP. OFF-LINE

EDITING OFF THIS TEXT IN PROGRESS. NAMES AND OTHER THINGS WILL NOT BE RELEASED TO THE GENERAL PUBLIC

[bmgarcangel 0]

**CENSORED**