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An even more embarrassing incident occurred because of yet another sweep of the Viet An area of Quang Tin, the fourth since February. The 2d Division massed six battalions and six platoons of artillery backed by aircraft to target the headquarters of the 1st Regiment, four PLAF infantry battalions, and an enemy artillery company. The operation began on 18 April 1965 as two columns moved southwest from Thang Binh district town into the hilly piedmont. The northern column advanced uneventfully, but the southern axis met stiff and mounting resistance by an estimated two battalions deployed on three hills. After a series of airstrikes, a company from the 3d Marine Battalion made a lodgment on one of the hills while the rest of the battalion and two troops of M113s swept around the foe’s southern flank and hit the main enemy position on a second knoll. Considerable amounts of bloody clothing found near the combat hamlet of Thanh Yen bolstered villager reports that the airstrikes had killed about 150 insurgents. The South Vietnamese spent the night on the battlefield. T he next morning, the ground commanders were inert as they watched airstrikes. T he columns finally moved out at 1300, taking their objectives without incident by 1600. At this time, an observation aircraft reported seeing rebels moving further west toward the hamlet of Chien Son. After a brief artillery bombardment, the 3d Marine Battalion and the two cavalry troops advanced in line across a field toward the hamlet. At 1725, the enemy unleashed a heavy, though erratic, bombardment. Joining the usual medley of machine guns, 57-mm. recoilless rifles, and 81-mm. mortars were heavy 4.2 inch mortars. Surprised by the large explosions created by the heavy ordnance, the M113s turned about and drove off the battlefield. Seeing the carriers withdraw, the marines fled. Friendly artillery stopped firing, and the U.S. Air Force’s forward air controller on the scene was unable to persuade two Vietnamese Skyraiders on station to attack. The Vietnamese officers and their advisers could not stop the rout, but they did manage to steer the mob toward an abandoned enemy trench where the marines stopped to take shelter. Here, allied officers organized a defense. T he respite was brief as enemy troops adjusted their bombardment to hit the new position, and a large column maneuvered to attack. Four advisers fell wounded, and, despite the best efforts of the remaining officers and advisers, the marines broke again. The enemy wounded a fifth adviser as he fired a .50-caliber machine gun from an armored personnel carrier to cover the withdrawal. The division headquarters again rejected calls for artillery support on the supposition that the enemy was too close to the marines, but the commander of the 2d Division, General Hoang Xuan Lam, ordered a ranger battalion and an infantry battalion to come to their aid. That plan backfired when the panic that infected the marines spread to the new battalions, which quickly joined the rout. The adviser to the ranger battalion vainly held his ground until he discovered that the enemy was about to cut him off. At that point, he, too, retreated. T he debacle cost the allies twenty-six dead and eighty-six wounded. Twenty-eight men went missing, and the insurgents captured or destroyed eight crew-served weapons
and twenty-five individual weapons. Over the course of the two-day operation, the allies counted 53 enemy dead and estimated they had killed 297 more, but MACV considered the latter number highly speculative. Advisers thought the original plan generally sound, although Lam had made little effort to gather intelligence about the enemy before the operation. He also had neglected to coordinate the columns and to integrate artillery into the overall scheme, two omissions that would haunt the effort. Once the action had begun, command and control became muddled on several occasions. Worse, the artillery had sat idle for much of the time because of command errors, difficulty in coordinating with aircraft, and fears of hitting friendly troops. The South Vietnamese relieved three troop commanders because of the affair. T he rout of three government battalions at once—including an elite Marine battalion from the General Reserve—was unprecedented. It offered dramatic proof that morale was fraying among I Corps’ ground forces and could crack under adverse circumstances. Eighteen days earlier, President Johnson had rejected the recommendation from the Joint Chiefs of Staff that the Army deploy a division to Vietnam, and, just six days before the battle at Chien Son, he had rejected the JCS’s bid for a three-division U.S.-Korean force. On the day after Chien Son, conferees at Honolulu recommended that the United States send an additional thirteen combat battalions to Vietnam by year’s end, and this time Johnson agreed. The battle at Chien Son certainly was not the reason for the new course, but it probably lingered in the minds of key decision makers.25
Three days later, the allies struck back in Binh Duong. Intelligence indicated that the enemy had positioned a PLAF battalion and an arms depot about 10 kilometers northwest of Thu Dau Mot. Because the information was already several days old, allied planners made the depot the target and not the battalion. The operation began on the morning of 8 May as aircraft hit three landing zones in preparation for the arrival of thirty-two Huey transports and twenty-five helicopter gunships provided by the U.S. Army’s 145th Aviation Battalion, as well as ten Vietnamese CH–34s. A .50-caliber machine gun shot down a CH–34 carrying intelligence personnel and two defectors who were to lead the soldiers to the target. The rest of the helicopters
discharged two battalions of the 9th Infantry on schedule. U.S. helicopters were to disembark a third battalion, this time from the 7th Infantry, into a blocking position, but this force diverted to secure the crash site instead. It found no survivors from the crash. Meanwhile, the 9th Infantry advanced in two columns from south to north. T he search failed to find the weapons depot, but the infantry killed 2 rebels, captured 75,000 piastres, and destroyed up to 30 tons of rice before linking up with a fourth battalion that had advanced by land. The three battalions set up a perimeter for the night near the Saigon River. T he next morning, 9 May, the three battalions set out in nine company columns, each spaced 50 meters apart in dense jungle. As they advanced, the troops received an increasing amount of fire. At noon, they found an abandoned horseshoe-shaped defensive position 750 meters in diameter. They occupied the position, with one battalion each facing north, east, and south. Automatic weapons overlooked a field to the west, the only open terrain in what otherwise was a flat expanse of jungle. Enemy f ire, including mortars, continued to grow as the day wore on. The commander of
the 9th Infantry asked for reinforcements, but the 5th Division’s commander, Brig. Gen. Tran Thanh Phong, refused, judging the situation too dangerous. Thirteen allied Skyraiders and four U.S. B–57 aircraft responded with bombs, rockets, and shells. South Vietnamese artillery—ten 105-mm. and two 155-mm. howitzers—joined in, ultimately firing 1,700 rounds. The artillery was not effective, because commanders refused to drop rounds close to the perimeter. They perhaps were correct in their judgement, for at 1800, several rounds accidentally landed inside the perimeter. In two recent operations, friendly aircraft had bombed the 9th Infantry, and with B–57s flying overhead, the soldiers mistakenly assumed that allied aircraft once again had bombed them. Fifteen minutes later, bugles and whistles heralded a Communist assault. Shaken by the friendly fire incident and facing a determined attack, the soldiers “wilted, fleeing in disorder.” Regimental adviser Maj. Thomas W. Brogan and his subordinates used every means at their disposal, including force, to stop the rout, but to no avail. A few Vietnamese officers tried to rally the troops too, but most, including the regimental commander, whom the government had decorated thirteen times for bravery, joined the stampede. The soldiers fled west into the field, with U.S. Army gunships doing their best to protect them. The rout left just 200 Vietnamese, many of whom were wounded, and 16 U.S. advisers to face the enemy. T he remaining soldiers established a perimeter about a kilometer west of the original position. A helicopter braved enemy fire to pick up three wounded advisers. Bowing to U.S. pressure, Phong agreed to a rare nighttime airmobile assault, with U.S. helicopters delivering a fresh battalion at 2000. Fortunately, the defenders faced nothing more than harassing fire through the night. At 0700 on the tenth, helicopters delivered an airborne battalion to reinforce the survivors and to facilitate their extraction later that day. For the second time in just a few weeks, three government battalions had fled the f ield in a single incident. All totaled, the fiasco cost the South Vietnamese 32 dead, 122 wounded, 36 missing, a helicopter, plus nearly 100 weapons. The U.S. Army suffered two dead and three wounded. One of the wounded Americans was one of six soldiers the 173d Airborne Brigade had sent on the operation as observers. Known enemy losses from the three-day operation totaled four killed with three soldiers and four weapons captured. MACV sent teams to help rebuild the fighting spirit of the three broken battalions.54 T he large-scale routs that had occurred on 19 April in II Corps and 9 May in III Corps raised serious questions. South Vietnamese soldiers had performed well on many a battlefield throughout April and May. Were the two stampedes therefore an aberration, or were they harbingers of greater disintegration in the future? MACV was unsure, but it certainly appreciated the common soldier’s plight. Confused by the country’s unsettled political situation, lacking a firm commitment to a cause, and sometimes saddled with mediocre leaders, South Vietnam’s soldiers nevertheless had endured many dangers and hardships over the years. Would they continue to do so, or would the enemy’s growing numbers and new armament be the final straw? To what extent could U.S. combat power, in the sky and perhaps on the ground, persuade the South Vietnamese soldiers to stay in the fight?
