In May of 1966 Ed Polonitza was an Airborne Ranger first lieutenant leading the 3rd rifle platoon of A Company, 2nd Battalion (Airborne) 8th Cavalry, 1st Cavalry Division. The Alpha Airborne Raiders were part of the division’s airborne brigade with the capability to parachute into a combat drop zone or assault into a combat landing zone from any number of the 400 plus helicopters in the Air Cav's inventory. This is his story about and by the paratroopers of A Company and their experiences in the bloody battles of Operation Crazy Horse during the spring of 1966.

East of our base at An Khe lay a series of ridgelines and valleys running from north to south. At the foot of these ridgelines and valleys was Highway 19, the main route through the Central Highlands. During the war these valleys were a main infiltration route for the North Vietnamese Army. The Vinh Thanh Valley was the scene of many fierce battles between the NVA and the Sky Troopers of the 1st Cavalry Division. In an ironic twist, Vinh Thanh Valley was nicknamed, Happy Valley. Operation Crazy Horse began on May 16, 1966. Patrols from the Special Forces camp in Vinh Thanh discovered enemy documents and equipment indicating a major attack on the camp was imminent. The 1st Brigade of the 1st Cavalry Division airlifted into the valley with orders to destroy the enemy forces in the vicinity of Happy Valley.

A Company deployed into the valley, and my 3rd Platoon, temporarily attached to Delta Company, was assigned the mission of ambushing along the jungle trails leading from the northern end of the valley into the ridgelines above. We moved out on foot from the battalion command post located at the Special Forces Camp in the valley floor. Shortly before dusk, we found an ambush site. It was a small clearing along a recently used trail. Our plan was to establish an L-shaped ambush so that we could hit an enemy unit from both the flank and front. We established listening posts several hundred meters each way down the trail. The job of the listening post was to give us early warning of approaching enemy. Although only a small unit, my platoon had more than adequate firepower to take on almost anything that would be moving down that trail. All of our riflemen were armed with M-16 rifles capable of fully automatic fire. We had two M-60 machine guns, which could deliver thousands of rounds into an enemy formation. Each of our three rifle squads had two grenadiers armed with M-79 grenade launchers capable of firing high explosive rounds up to 400 meters. We had hand grenades and claymore mines, electrically detonated and loaded with hundreds of metal pellets that could rip through an enemy formation with devastating results.

As darkness approached, Platoon Sergeant James C. Lester and I were doing a final check of our positions. We stood at the edge of the jungle looking into the clearing to ensure our firing positions had complete coverage of the ambush site. As our listening posts prepared to move into place, we suddenly heard loud laughter and saw beams of light from the far end of our ambush. My first thought was that some of our guys were having a moment of insanity and had forgotten where they were. But then we saw two NVA soldiers walking right through our ambush site, flashlights on, talking loudly, and laughing at their own jokes. They passed no more than 10 meters from where Sergeant Lester and I were standing and obviously had no idea they were walking through 35 heavily armed paratroopers waiting to kill them. These were undoubtedly the luckiest soldiers in Vietnam at that moment, as Sergeant Lester and I decided to let them pass with the hope of a bigger target later that night.

The night passed quietly. But just before dawn, our left flank listening post reported movement coming toward it. Specialist Jim Rockwell, who was manning this LP, reported two enemy soldiers passing his position. When they entered the clearing, all hell broke loose. Our L-shaped ambush exploded with automatic fire from our machine guns and M-16s.

One of the North Vietnamese soldiers was killed instantly and the other severely wounded. None of us knew whether these were the same two who had walked through our ambush the night before, but, whoever they were, their luck had run out. Having compromised our position with the roar of gunfire, we quickly regrouped and moved back through the jungle, closing on the battalion command post later that morning.

One issue we had to deal with prior to closing out our ambush site was the wounded NVA soldier. Even though he was in bad shape, he could be a valuable intelligence resource. Additionally, the two enemy casualties had a number of documents that could also be critical. In order to expedite this situation, Specialist Mike Friedrichs and three others constructed a makeshift litter and hauled the wounded enemy to another friendly unit operating nearby. In turn, the unit would take the prisoner to a helicopter-landing zone for extraction to an interrogation area. Mike and his small group then rejoined us at a predetermined checkpoint for the movement back to the battalion CP.

My platoon, along with the rest of A Company, was then assigned as battalion Eagle Flight and security for the command post. Our sister units were conducting search and destroy missions in the mountains above us, and, in many cases, fighting pitched battles with the North Vietnamese infantrymen swarming the hills. The battalion Eagle Flight mission required that we be a quick reaction force to reinforce any friendly units that might need help in overcoming enemy resistance. Supporting our Eagle Flight mission were six UH1 troop-carrying helicopters we called ‘slicks,’ several helicopter gun ships, and an artillery battery co-located with the battalion CP.

The morning of May 21 started routinely enough. Father Rogers, the battalion chaplain, was saying Mass at the battalion command post area. The skies were overcast, and a light rain fell. To the east and above us, Charlie Company, 1st Battalion, 12th Cavalry, began a search and destroy mission from LZ Hereford, where it had been located the previous night. LZ Hereford was a small helicopter landing zone located in what we called a saddle, which is a terrain feature characterized by a lower area flanked by two hills. LZ Hereford was located right in the saddle. By definition, this is an extremely precarious tactical area, since an enemy force manning the high ground would have a significant advantage over troops located in the saddle. Upon leaving Hereford, Charlie Company proceeded down the ridgelines toward the valley floor, searching for NVA reported in that area. Charlie Company’s mortar platoon stayed at LZ Hereford to provide fire support to the advancing rifle platoons. From our position in the valley floor, we could hear the thump of Charlie Company’s mortars supporting the advance. Later that morning, clouds and fog began to roll in, blocking our view of the mountaintops. Around noon, the quiet in the valley was broken by the sound of automatic weapons fire echoing between the hills. Frantic radio traffic told us that the mortar platoon on LZ Hereford was being attacked by an overwhelming enemy force firing down from the two hills above the saddle, as well as by NVA infantry charging in the tall grass around the LZ.

Alpha Company’s own mortar platoon was also located at the battalion command post along the valley floor. Specialist Mark Spencer was a member of the platoon’s fire direction center. On the morning of the 21st, he along with the rest of the platoon was relaxing, waiting for their next fire mission. Spencer became aware of some activity on a large mountain to his right front. Soon, smoke began rising from the jungle off the side of the mountain. He asked Sergeant Bill McGraw, Specialist Ralph Tennyson and PFC Willie Williams if they had any idea what was going on. They shrugged their shoulders and said, “Someone must be in the crap again, wonder who?” They would soon find out as the weapons platoon sergeant, Jon Schaer alerted his mortar platoon to be prepared to move out as Charlie Company mortars were being overrun.

We were immediately ordered to load up on the six Eagle Flight slicks sitting at the battalion CP and assault into LZ Hereford to reinforce the beleaguered mortar platoon. My 3rd Platoon was to be the lead element of A Company into the LZ. As each Huey could hold six infantrymen, my platoon would have the first lift of the six choppers.

We quickly loaded up, realizing we would be going into a hot LZ surrounded on two sides by high ground swarming with NVA machine gunners. I loaded into the first helicopter, along with Staff Sergeant Isaac Guest and his rifle squad. The helicopter engines were roaring, the main rotor rotating fiercely. The pilot pointed toward the LZ that was now completely covered with fog. This poor visibility made it impossible to land on the LZ. Despite the noise from the helicopter engines, we could hear the sounds of gunfire from Hereford. We sat on the choppers waiting for a break in the fog. Finally, the low-hanging clouds parted briefly and we were in the air for the short flight to the LZ. Halfway up, the clouds closed again, and our pilots had to turn back. Almost as soon as we approached the battalion area, the clouds parted once again. We turned back toward LZ Hereford.

Specialist Mike Friedrichs had recently rejoined 3rd Platoon after being seriously wounded during a February firefight. Sitting on the floor of the troop compartment of his slick, Mike recognized the pilot, a Hispanic major who had flown us on a number of previous combat assaults. From past experience, Mike learned to get a read on his level of anxiety by watching the veins on his neck. During this short flight, the pilot’s veins were bulging. ‘I knew we were in for something big,’ thought Mike as his chopper charged toward LZ Hereford.

Mark Spencer and the rest of Alpha Company’s mortar platoon would follow the rifle platoons into the hot landing zone. In this case, “hot” meant we would be landing under fire. The young mortar man wondered what it would be like to assault into Hereford carrying their 81-millimeter mortar and a full load of mortar rounds along with personal weapons and equipment and into a swarm of North Vietnamese infantrymen.

Lieutenant Polonitza recalls, “As we approached the LZ, I was on one landing strut of the helicopter, and Specialist Leonard Lawrence was on the other one. Hereford was a small LZ, so only one Huey at a time could land. We had to get out of the choppers fast so others could bring in the rest of our company as quickly as possible.

I leaped into the LZ along with Specialist Lawrence. He landed on top of a dead American soldier, his M16 barrel twisted at a grotesque angle. Each helicopter followed in quick succession. Specialist Jim Rockwell rode in on the second Huey. He jumped into the mortar pit where three dead cavalrymen had been killed while attempting to bring fire against the attackers. Specialist Juan Fernandez was the youngest soldier in the 3rd Platoon, having celebrated his 18th birthday a few days before arriving in Vietnam the previous August. As he scrambled out of his slick and into the LZ, all he could see were bodies lying everywhere. We quickly set up a hasty perimeter around the LZ, but it was obvious we were too late. The enemy had fled moments before leaving behind the bodies of 19 dead American soldiers.

The remaining rifle platoons of A Company arrived at LZ Hereford just behind us. Our company mortar platoon followed the rifle units into the landing zone. At almost the same time, the remainder of C Company, which had reversed itself and scrambled back to the LZ in a frantic attempt to help its mortar platoon, approached the saddle area. Soon, four mortar platoon soldiers, all wounded, struggled back into our security perimeter. They had slipped down the side of the ridgeline to escape the enemy onslaught. Captain Forman, our company commander quickly established control of the LZ. He told me to police up all the equipment we could from the dead and wounded. He calmly said, ‘They won’t be needing it anymore.’ Among the items we found on the LZ were a number of crude North Vietnamese propaganda leaflets, primarily targeted at our black soldiers, making references to the ‘Ku Klux Klan back home.’ Other than as an interesting curiosity, these had no effect.

Specialist Mark Spencer arrived at LZ Hereford after the rifle platoons had secured the area. “The first thing I saw when I jumped off the chopper were dead bodies lined in a row and wrapped in ponchos. We quickly set up our mortars to cover likely avenues of approach and dug in. None of us wanted to use the old positions as they were covered in blood. We dug new fox holes in a lazy W formation around the saddle.”

As soon as the LZ was secured, we were ordered to pursue the enemy force that had attacked the mortar platoon. Captain Forman ordered our mortar platoon to hold their positions on LZ Hereford and be prepared to fire in support of the company’s pursuit operation. For additional security he attached a rifle squad to the mortar platoon. Platoon Sergeant Schaer and section leader, Staff Sergeant Edwards objected to this decision feeling that such a small force could attract another NVA assault. Schaer talked with Captain Forman about this and he agreed to leave a rifle platoon to provide additional security for the mortars.

My platoon and the rest of the Alpha Company main body moved west across the heavily jungled ridgeline, where we felt the NVA had retreated. As we advanced, we saw that our artillery fire had been effective in pounding the fleeing enemy. Our trail was littered with dead bodies. One appeared to be much larger and in a different uniform than the typical Vietnamese infantryman. We thought he might have been a Chinese advisor to the North Vietnamese. If so, his advisory duties had been terminated, compliments of the 1st Cav artillery. Further down the trail we found the body of Sam Castan, the journalist who had joined Charlie Mortars in pursuit of a war story. We covered his remains in a poncho and detached a rifle squad to carry him back to LZ Hereford.

As night approached, Captain Forman directed us to pull into a tight defensive perimeter on a ridge top overlooking the Vinh Thanh valley. We felt the enemy’s presence as we dug in for the night. As night fell, a torrential rain began. The night was impossibly black with the heavy rain and cloud cover. My radio operator, Specialist Gary Mierzejewski, Platoon Sergeant Lester, and myself were clustered a short distance behind our security perimeter. Around midnight, we heard peculiar tapping noises above the sound of the falling rain. At first, we didn’t realize what this noise was. Then a small rock hit a tree not far from our position. We then knew we had NVA scouts crawling toward our position trying to draw fire to pinpoint our automatic weapons. Once they knew our strong points, they would attack around our machine guns and attempt to overrun our perimeter.

Sergeant Lester and I had very little control over the situation at that point. We had only voice communications with our perimeter security, and to attempt to move forward in the blinding rain would be impossible.

We had to trust in the discipline and alertness of our forward positions. Our trust was well placed. Specialist Ansel Boyce manned a security position a few meters in front of us. A machine gunner, Boyce was also armed with a 45-caliber pistol. As we waited tensely, a single shot exploded from Boyce’s pistol, followed immediately by the low moan of a dying North Vietnamese scout. Soon, a second shot fired by another machine gunner everybody called ‘Smitty,’ killed another scout. As we waited through that endless, miserable night, the actions of these two brave troopers discouraged the NVA lurking around our perimeter from another attempt against us.

As dawn broke, Sergeant Garry Bowles examined the bodies of the two dead enemy soldiers, who had fallen virtually on top of our perimeter. One had six pairs of what we called ‘Ho Chi Minh sandals’ tied to his equipment. We felt these belonged to some of his other buddies probing barefoot around us during the night.

Specialist Mark Spencer and his mortar platoon buddies had an equally tense night at LZ Hereford. “During the night we could hear movement all around our location. Enemy probing in our area increased to the point that almost every defensive position in the perimeter reported something to their front. At this time we started to throw rocks in the direction of the noises. We thought these might disrupt an enemy approach without giving away our firing position. We heard a thud and a cry. Someone threw a grenade and everything went silent. During the night we fired several missions around the main body location. We called these “harassment and interdiction” (H&I) missions. One of these was a two round mission. The first round left the tube perfectly. The second made a “puff” sound as it fired. I knew immediately the powder charges on the round did not completely ignite and we had a short round. I yelled “Short Round” and dived for my foxhole. Thankfully no one was hurt. Later that night we heard some muffled shots from the mountaintop where A Company was located. We knew these were not AK47 or M16 rounds. In the morning we would find out that these were the 45 pistol shots fired by Boyce and Smitty. We checked the area where the short round landed and found a lot of blood where the short round hit along with drag marks. It seemed we had lucked out and our bad round had been even worse for the enemy.”

After another few days of chasing the North Vietnamese out of Happy Valley, Operation Crazy Horse ended. Although Crazy Horse was very successful, with more than 500 enemy killed, the paratroopers of Alpha Company went back to An Khe with mixed emotions. Had the clouds parted a few minutes earlier on May 21, we may have been able to save the lives of at least some of the 19 Americans killed in action that day. To this day, Sergeant Louis Buckley, Jr., a member of the Charlie Company mortar platoon, remains missing in action. Perhaps if we had arrived a few minutes earlier, Sergeant Buckley could have been saved from whatever unknown fate had befallen him.”

 

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