15 APRIL - Operation: Toan Thang - Vietnam Milsim Event
18 posts
• Page 2 of 2 • 1, 2
by hellmutt » Fri May 11, 2007 1:07 pm
TOAN THANG: The Recon
"Black Knight 6, Black Knight 6, this is Black Knight 5. Sitrep, please!"
Black Knight 5 was back on the net and doing their stuff. I keyed the handset and whispered, "Blacknight5, this is Black Knight 6. Stand by to copy sitrep. Over." The handset crackled and hissed.
Our S&O team (Surveillance and Overwatch) had found a small cache of enemy items including a huge bag of rice, some uniforms drying after being cleaned in a nearby stream, ammo and a couple of weapons in a crate. Some incense burned at a small shrine, which is what had led us to the cache. The orders this morning were to "Conduct reconnaissance and surveillance operations within assigned grid sector to detect possible VC/NVA troop movement or arms infiltration." The OPORD had been very specific that this was a recon mission. We were to avoid contact and disturb nothing.
"Black Knight 5, Black Knight 5, this is Black Knight 6, sitrep follows," I tried to cover my mouth piece as I spoke into the handset. "S&O 2 has located a NVA cache at GRID 178624. Confirm NVA uniforms, food and other items. We are moving back to our ORP now." The handset barked back "Good copy Black Knight 6. Out."
Our team broke out of the hasty ambush that we had set and began the hump back to our ORP (Objective Rally Point), where the rest of the platoon was waiting for us. The movement was slow and methodical as we cut brush back to our unit, being careful not to use the same route we had used coming out. Coming back from a patrol was always
the most dangerous. It didn't take much to get lit up from friendlies - nothing like being on the business end of a M60! We had setup a challenge phrase during our planning that would help us get back into friendly lines.
"Brother!", the point man whispered. Nothing. "Brother!", the point man said a little louder. "Retard!" a whisper came out of a bush just a couple of dozen meters in front of us. "Friendly patrol coming back into the line!". We made our way to the infil point and
were counted as we came back in to the ORP. Counting troops leaving and coming was essential to ensuring that we kept track of all of our guys. We were the first S&O team to make it back. There were still two team out there gathering intel.
"Station calling BlackKnight, this is RedKnight, over!" The handset screeched to life. Not so loud, motherf*cker! I shifted my focus from the depth of the jungle back to the Platoon. None of them looked back. Each one lay prone and motionless with their weapon at the ready. Each focused on his assigned sector of observation. Either they had not heard the radio or they were just focused on the jungle . . . waiting.
"RedKnight, this is BlackKnight 6 - go ahead." I whispered back into the radio. "BlackNight be advised we see several small squads of NVA/VC moving south and south east of your current position." Crap. The NVA must have gotten wind of one of our
patrols and were out looking for us. "Good copy last RedKnight. Out."
We had two S&O teams that had to make it back to the ORP before we could move back to our FOB (Forward Operating Base) and plan our subsequent missions. This is where things got hairy. With two friendly teams out in the bush, we couldn't just open up on anything that moved but at the same time we had at least 2 NVA patrols moving toward our position so we couldn't afford not too. Just then a number was called out "Eight!". "Three", replied one of the soldiers on the perimeter. At last, a second S&O team was coming back into the ORP. They were counted and moved to the center of the ORP to debrief what they had found to the Platoon leader.
Minutes passed like hours as we stared into the jungle looking and listening for any sign of our enemy or our patrol. The heat was amplified in our mitchell covered helmets like an "Easy Bake" oven on overdrive. Our war gear, which had been carefully silenced with tape and paracord, dug in all the wrong places. We sat, eagerly waiting out last patrol to return so we could "di di" out of here and back to the relative safety of our FOB.
"BlackKnight! BlackKnight!", the radio screamed to life! "BlackKnight, this is S&O Three we are being pursued!" Crack, crack. We could hear the shots over the radio as S&O 3 executed a break contact. "We are coming in HOT! From your southwest!".
"I think I see 'em!" one of the grunts yelled. "BROTHER! BROTHER! BROTHER!" he yelled. "RETARD!" the challenge phrase came back from the dense jungle. The S&O team ran back into the ORP and hit the deck as soon as they were in. "6-10 NVA are following us! Get ready!" they told us gasping for air between words.
We couldn't see 'em but we knew they were there. They were out in the high brush 30-40 meters from our current position; we could hear the cracks of the branches as they slowly advanced on us. Each of us had a finger on the trigger waiting to fire. Each of us, hoping they would just break contact and go back to whatever they were doing. Crack, rustle, pop. . . they got closer, like some kind of demonic Rice Krispy monsters just waiting to light us up. Then it got quiet . . . too quiet. What were they doing? Each second seemed like days, every sound was amplified, every movement exaggerated.
"Brrrpputt!!" Bullets whizzed over our heads just inches above. Immediately the platoon returned fire! At least 8 M16s opened up toward the sound of the rifle fire. More fire poured into the ORP from the NVA, although the volume of our fire must have
scared them a bit. They had been tracking 2, now they were just opened up on by at least 10! We heard screams in Vietnamese as the fire kept pouring in. A couple of our guys were hit and were brought to the center of the perimeter to be treated. We kept pouring it on.
The firefight seemed like it lasted for 30 minutes, but it couldn't have been more then 5. Eventually the NVA broke contact, dragging their dead away with them. The PL decided it was best to just didi moa (hurry up) back to the FOB after we did our ACE (ammo,
casualties, equipment) reports. Injured were carried back while the platoon moved in tactical formation back to the FOB. We were lucky, no casualties and we had found at least 2 NVA caches that we would setup ambushes on later in the day. To think, that was just the first mission - we still had two more to go!
"Black Knight 6, Black Knight 6, this is Black Knight 5. Sitrep, please!"
Black Knight 5 was back on the net and doing their stuff. I keyed the handset and whispered, "Blacknight5, this is Black Knight 6. Stand by to copy sitrep. Over." The handset crackled and hissed.
Our S&O team (Surveillance and Overwatch) had found a small cache of enemy items including a huge bag of rice, some uniforms drying after being cleaned in a nearby stream, ammo and a couple of weapons in a crate. Some incense burned at a small shrine, which is what had led us to the cache. The orders this morning were to "Conduct reconnaissance and surveillance operations within assigned grid sector to detect possible VC/NVA troop movement or arms infiltration." The OPORD had been very specific that this was a recon mission. We were to avoid contact and disturb nothing.
"Black Knight 5, Black Knight 5, this is Black Knight 6, sitrep follows," I tried to cover my mouth piece as I spoke into the handset. "S&O 2 has located a NVA cache at GRID 178624. Confirm NVA uniforms, food and other items. We are moving back to our ORP now." The handset barked back "Good copy Black Knight 6. Out."
Our team broke out of the hasty ambush that we had set and began the hump back to our ORP (Objective Rally Point), where the rest of the platoon was waiting for us. The movement was slow and methodical as we cut brush back to our unit, being careful not to use the same route we had used coming out. Coming back from a patrol was always
the most dangerous. It didn't take much to get lit up from friendlies - nothing like being on the business end of a M60! We had setup a challenge phrase during our planning that would help us get back into friendly lines.
"Brother!", the point man whispered. Nothing. "Brother!", the point man said a little louder. "Retard!" a whisper came out of a bush just a couple of dozen meters in front of us. "Friendly patrol coming back into the line!". We made our way to the infil point and
were counted as we came back in to the ORP. Counting troops leaving and coming was essential to ensuring that we kept track of all of our guys. We were the first S&O team to make it back. There were still two team out there gathering intel.
"Station calling BlackKnight, this is RedKnight, over!" The handset screeched to life. Not so loud, motherf*cker! I shifted my focus from the depth of the jungle back to the Platoon. None of them looked back. Each one lay prone and motionless with their weapon at the ready. Each focused on his assigned sector of observation. Either they had not heard the radio or they were just focused on the jungle . . . waiting.
"RedKnight, this is BlackKnight 6 - go ahead." I whispered back into the radio. "BlackNight be advised we see several small squads of NVA/VC moving south and south east of your current position." Crap. The NVA must have gotten wind of one of our
patrols and were out looking for us. "Good copy last RedKnight. Out."
We had two S&O teams that had to make it back to the ORP before we could move back to our FOB (Forward Operating Base) and plan our subsequent missions. This is where things got hairy. With two friendly teams out in the bush, we couldn't just open up on anything that moved but at the same time we had at least 2 NVA patrols moving toward our position so we couldn't afford not too. Just then a number was called out "Eight!". "Three", replied one of the soldiers on the perimeter. At last, a second S&O team was coming back into the ORP. They were counted and moved to the center of the ORP to debrief what they had found to the Platoon leader.
Minutes passed like hours as we stared into the jungle looking and listening for any sign of our enemy or our patrol. The heat was amplified in our mitchell covered helmets like an "Easy Bake" oven on overdrive. Our war gear, which had been carefully silenced with tape and paracord, dug in all the wrong places. We sat, eagerly waiting out last patrol to return so we could "di di" out of here and back to the relative safety of our FOB.
"BlackKnight! BlackKnight!", the radio screamed to life! "BlackKnight, this is S&O Three we are being pursued!" Crack, crack. We could hear the shots over the radio as S&O 3 executed a break contact. "We are coming in HOT! From your southwest!".
"I think I see 'em!" one of the grunts yelled. "BROTHER! BROTHER! BROTHER!" he yelled. "RETARD!" the challenge phrase came back from the dense jungle. The S&O team ran back into the ORP and hit the deck as soon as they were in. "6-10 NVA are following us! Get ready!" they told us gasping for air between words.
We couldn't see 'em but we knew they were there. They were out in the high brush 30-40 meters from our current position; we could hear the cracks of the branches as they slowly advanced on us. Each of us had a finger on the trigger waiting to fire. Each of us, hoping they would just break contact and go back to whatever they were doing. Crack, rustle, pop. . . they got closer, like some kind of demonic Rice Krispy monsters just waiting to light us up. Then it got quiet . . . too quiet. What were they doing? Each second seemed like days, every sound was amplified, every movement exaggerated.
"Brrrpputt!!" Bullets whizzed over our heads just inches above. Immediately the platoon returned fire! At least 8 M16s opened up toward the sound of the rifle fire. More fire poured into the ORP from the NVA, although the volume of our fire must have
scared them a bit. They had been tracking 2, now they were just opened up on by at least 10! We heard screams in Vietnamese as the fire kept pouring in. A couple of our guys were hit and were brought to the center of the perimeter to be treated. We kept pouring it on.
The firefight seemed like it lasted for 30 minutes, but it couldn't have been more then 5. Eventually the NVA broke contact, dragging their dead away with them. The PL decided it was best to just didi moa (hurry up) back to the FOB after we did our ACE (ammo,
casualties, equipment) reports. Injured were carried back while the platoon moved in tactical formation back to the FOB. We were lucky, no casualties and we had found at least 2 NVA caches that we would setup ambushes on later in the day. To think, that was just the first mission - we still had two more to go!
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hellmutt - Ranger
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