Chapter 14: Little Man, Big Man 060425

     Now, while licking my wounds, not from combat, but from dealing so incompetently with everyday life, The Big Red One began Operation Billings on June 12, 1967. On the 13th, while we stayed behind, pulling base security in those same scorpion-infested bunkers at Lai Khe, Lt. Colonel Lazzell's Rangers retook the lead. His 1/16th Infantry Battalion took a fifteen-minute chopper ride to make an air assault into a clearing northeast of our position at Lai Khe and just a little ways due north of Phuoc Vinh in War Zone D. There was virgin Jungle surrounding the entire clearing. The clearing itself was five hundred meters in length and about three hundred meters wide. It was designated LZ (Landing Zone) Rufe. This operation would be Lazzell's last trial by fire. Counting his painful surgeries and recovery time, from that disabling elbow wound, Lazzell spent almost twice as long in mind-rending situations as the average American officer serving in Vietnam.

      As brave and determined as Lazzell was, he was also a misguided leader of men. Leaders display symptoms of being misguided in many ways. I like to label the totality of Lazzell's symptoms simply as little man syndrome. In Vietnam, there were a handful of my superiors under six feet tall, who were not suffering from little man syndrome. Lt. Colonel Cavazos was under six feet, but he was certainly not a little man. General DePuy was under six feet, but he was a big man. The tall, handsome General Hay was certainly no little man. Though he lacked the qualities it takes in my book to become a great leader,  he was certainly no little man. On the other hand, Westmoreland was also tall and handsome but very small indeed. 

      Perhaps, I should explain what I mean just a bit more when I use my home-spun term, "little man". Here goes. You see, little men continually measure themselves by this world's standards. To gain stature in their mind, a little man tends to fixate on gaining the approval of those above them in rank, at the expense of focusing on the job itself. They also give very little thought to developing a relationship with the God of heaven and earth. However, not all big men have a relationship with God either. Here is the difference. Whether big men have a relationship with God or not, big men apply Judeo-Christian principles to their everyday actions. These principles are almost always learned through their exposure to the legacies left behind by true believers who do have a close personal relationship with God, through Christ and His Holy Spirit. Such was the case with Richard Cavazos, who was greatly influenced by the Christ-centered Henrietta Chamberlain King and her King Ranch legacy. A little man, however, is anyone, believer or not, who has not learned to apply God's eternal rules for everyday life, either through ignorance or stubborn disobedience. Those rules won't gain eternal life for a non-believer, but they will help them make better choices in this life. Little men become condescending, disrespectful, and have only a feigned sympathy for anyone they deem to be of a lower status in life. When allowed to lead, these poor fellows will always lead everyone who follows in the direction of a cliff. There is no lasting peace for a little man. He is never comfortable with himself, or with anyone else, for that matter. There is just one other thing that I would like to add here. A little man might be a little woman.

     Little men are a disaster waiting to happen. Miraculously, Lazzell had already narrowly escaped two situations that usually would have led any other little man to a disastrous fate either time. The first situation was at the Battle of Prek Klok I. The fighting ability of men like Captain Ulm and Sergeant Matthews bailed him out of that disaster. The second situation was at the Battle of Ap Gu. Haig saved his butt that time. Both those situations were added to Lazzell’s resume as credits, instead of exposing Lazzell’s woeful incompetence as a leader.

     Shortly before making this air assault into LZ Rufe, Lazzell assembled his men and bragged that his Rangers had logged more continuous time in the field than any other battalion in the Big Red One. He did not realize that this brag was precisely the wrong thing to say. People are smart. His men realized that this remark was crafted to meet Lazzell's own need for a pat on the back and had nothing to do with his appreciation for them. To inspire his men, all he needed to say was what an excellent job they had done and leave it at that. Sergeant Murry's men of the 1/16th Infantry Battalion had just completed some of the longest, grueling, and dangerous missions in the field of any of the nine First Infantry Divisions. They were bone tired after coming down from the many adrenaline rushes of combat. However, little men will never be able to identify with those they lead, because they can never become free of the need to focus on themselves in everything they do. By this time, every old guy in Lazzell's unit knew that when they took a walk in the woods with Rufus Lazzell, the odds were good that they wouldn't return in one piece. Why, in the world, would they want to make their walk with Lazzell longer instead of shorter? However, Lazzell was blind to the fact that he was the problem. As I have mentioned, there are only two ways to avoid this distortion of the mind. The first is to become the beneficiary of a Christian legacy, as Dick did by growing up on the ranch. The better way, however, is for a person to develop a relationship with the Holy Spirit after confessing Jesus Christ as Lord. There is no indication that this had happened with Lazzell. After Lazzell made his little self-promoting speech, is there any wonder that there was low murmuring and cussing under his men's breath, much to Lazzell's out-of-touch surprise? What they heard Lazzell say in so many words was this. "I will run this unit into the ground and get as many of my men killed as necessary, as long as it elevates me in the eyes of my superiors".

      Cruelty is also a frequent companion of little men. Years later, I learned that Lazzell publicly berated one of his fallen platoon leaders in the worst conceivable way. He called him a criminal in front of the entire battalion. Again, the truth was this. Like a chip off the old block, the untested and inexperienced platoon leader had gotten himself and most of his men killed while following Lazzell's very own example. The young platoon leader had rushed forward, without thinking, as Rufus had done when he first took over the unit. That was the time when Lazzell was shot in the elbow. By trashing this poor fellow in front of his men, Lazzell did not realize that he was trashing his standing as their leader. Unless done to break and reshape recruits in basic training, publicly humiliating a subordinate is not only cruel but also very destructive to an entire organization.

     Lastly, little man syndrome predisposes its victims to continually dream up superficial ways to prove themselves and gain attention. They seldom spend the time to do the in-depth critical thinking needed to produce better solutions to problems. A little man continually knee-jerks, instead of taking the time to solicit from subordinates their ideas for a better solution. Thus, the organization suffers much more from the destructive consequences of knee-jerking than it would otherwise. Those harmful consequences may not happen immediately. Everything may run fine until an organization experiences some external pressure, which then becomes the trigger. I can think of no other external pressure greater than that of combat in the jungles of 1967 Vietnam.

      However, having said what I have just said, it's only fair to ask what the reader may already be asking. What gives me the right qualifications to criticize any leader, anywhere, in any endeavor, since I have never been one, myself? It's true. On June 13, 1967, while Lazzell was just four days away from getting his men shot to pieces for the last time, I was one of the lowest-ranking grunts in the First Infantry Division. I also went on to become a college dropout who would never be given a leadership role of any kind. In other words, I would always be a grunt. What gives me the audacity to think that I can accurately assess the mental condition of others who have strived to achieve a lot more in life than I have? The answer to that question may come as a surprise. I have great credibility here in understanding little man syndrome because I was one. Before I submitted my mind to be conformed to the mind of Christ, not only was I a little man, but my affliction was so severe that I could easily have been mistaken for a Lilliputian.

      Now, let's take a look at the command situation in my unit's recent past as Lazzell was about to be given the lead in executing Operation Billings. It had been a little more than three months since Dick Cavazos took over my unit. That was a lifetime in Vietnam. Once again, our unit was being sidelined in favor of Lazzell. We had also been sidelined while our former battalion commander, Lt. Col. Denton, was in command. Major General DePuy was our First Division Commander at that time. He was smart and tough. No doubt he noticed Denton's poor performance. I cannot remember a single time that Denton had us dig a foxhole according to SOP. Supply problems abounded. We got no hot meals, except during our rare visits to home base at Di An. Sometimes we lacked even an adequate supply of drinking water. Looking back now, I see a commander who was more than likely burned out. Although brave, Denton was not suited to command an infantry battalion. General DePuy was still our Division commander at the time Denton left. Denton had served only two months in the field. I believe DePuy fired Denton. He fired a lot of battalion commanders for incompetence. Denton never received another promotion after he left Vietnam. However, I would discover years later that Denton was not a little man.

      God creates many personalities, and our nation needs them all, then and now. Denton's removal from command and then retirement from the Army freed him to begin developing his real gifting, which was in technology. His work in that field later contributed greatly to his nation and earned him the standing needed to become a significant role model for his community. For goodness' sake, top leadership in any organization needs to be able to spot people who have an aptitude for the job and also spot those who don't. They then need to find another fit for those who don't or set them free to find that fit for themselves. I am happy to say that Earl Denton found a fit for himself. I would wager that there was at least one Christian legacy influencing his ability to make that enlightened and radical change in his life.

      DePuy was removed by Chief of Staff Johnson shortly after firing Denton. Johnson thought he was firing too many battalion commanders. Major General Hay became our next division commander. General Hay moved much more slowly than DePuy and believed in maintaining the status quo. Hay kept most of DePuy's staff. With the arrival of Hay, the climate at the top changed, and not in Dick Cavazos's favor. No one was interested in keeping a critical eye on battalion commanders anymore. Wherever one was rated in the lineup, that's where they stayed. At this time, Cavazos had no big battles under his belt, which wasn't unusual. Most battalion commanders never fought a single major battle. However, Lazzell did. He also had a doctorate in showboating, so initially, he had managed to pull the wool over DePuy's eyes. Therefore, he was now rated at the top of that lineup. DePuy had liked him, so Hay liked him. At this moment in time, Hay knew next to nothing about the real leadership abilities of any of his battalion commanders.

      I have just given very good reasons why Dick's current working environment was against him ever having a star pinned on his shoulder, much less four of them. However, there was even a greater reason for that not happening. Dick's values were fixed. The legacy of the ranch had molded him into a staunch throwback, firmly grounded in biblical principles at his very core. That meant that he was not about to manipulate his circumstances to make himself look better. Instead, for those first three months, Dick focused on doing his job. At the end of those three months, he had turned us into the best battalion in the Division, but who knew? No one, and I mean no one, could beat Dick in his ability to show us how to maneuver in large formations through thick Jungle and coordinate covering fires at the same time. He looked straight past rank to see the soul. He could recognize a person's ability to get the job done, and also one who couldn't. A good spotter for calling in artillery or air strikes could be anyone, as far as Dick was concerned. He could be a point man, an RTO, an FO, a squad leader, or a company commander, to name a few. "Just get the job done" was his motto. We had a lot of people who were good at what they did, but we also had a constant influx of some who weren't good. Dick was quick to recognize and set the bad ones free.

      Besides people, Dick made some other very underrated and unnoticed improvements in our housekeeping. You might ask, What in the world does that have to do with creating a superior fighting force?. Well, let me explain. Our DePuy bunkers were our homes away from home. Very shortly after Dick arrived, they were fitted out to meet Dick's good housekeeping seal of approval. He did this by making some simple changes, which allowed us to build these fortifications much faster and much stronger. He had our supply sergeant reconnoiter and secure two essential homemaking tools. One was a mattock, and the other was Marston matting. The mattocks allowed us to bust up hard laterite ground at least three times faster than other units could do, using only entrenching tools. Marston matting was a 10-foot by 15-inch-wide steel plank, which was excellent for supporting sandbags on our overhead cover. These planks made a much stronger roof, which could take direct hits from mortar rounds. They were heavy, so they were flown out to us in Chinook helicopters while we were digging in. They kept us from having to spend valuable time and energy chopping down small trees for overhead supports. The time and energy saved here were invaluable. It gave us more time to chop firing lanes, run trip flares, and lay claymore mines. It also meant that we were not as tired and thus more alert. The number of mishaps was fewer because we did not have to use machetes to chop tree limbs for roof supports. A weary soldier swinging a machete was a recipe for accidents. He could easily miss his mark and chop into a leg bone. Many units used C-4 explosives and hand grenades to soften up the ground for digging. How dangerous was that? Yes, Dick’s seemingly little changes made a big difference. However, they also went largely unnoticed by senior command.

      Many patrols in the First Division were enticed into walking trails. Dick was adamant that we never walk on trails. Since we didn't walk on trails, we experienced fewer surprise encounters with the enemy and/or their booby traps. My only job in my squad was walking point, and I did that for nine months. During that time, I never ran across a single booby trap because I never walked a trail. Also, Dick was blessed with some proficient NCOs, none finer than Bartee, Robert O'Brien, "Mac" McLaughlin, Gerry Chesnut, John May, and Pink Dillard. My squad thump gunner, Walker, was the best in the Division. Our weapons platoon people were top rate, too. They could drop a mortar round on target every time. Dick was also blessed with a recon platoon, which was very stealthy. In all the interviews, written reports, and stories, I could not find a single remark about our recon platoon. It's as though these guys did not exist. Believe it or not, that speaks volumes about this little band of brothers. It was a recon platoon's primary duty to gather intelligence about the enemy without being noticed. These guys were specters. They were flesh and blood, but they were also ghosts. Their platoon leader had been scrutinized closely by our "ole man” before he was given command of that platoon.

      A Hot meal in the field was something that made a huge difference. Dick expanded the one hot meal a day to include dehydrated vegetable beef soup and fresh hot donuts in the morning. Most battalions were fortunate to get one hot meal a day. Still, I have never read about a single Vietnam veteran getting piping hot donuts, airfreighted to him in the middle of the Jungle every morning. However, we did. Yes, I know. They were not suitable for a young man's long-term health, but they were "gooood" not only for boosting morale, but also for giving us the sugar high we needed to carry an extra 80 pounds of gear in sweltering 95-degree temperatures. Clean fatigues were also supplied to us more regularly after Operation Junction City. No doubt, Dick had a hand in that. It is surprising what Dick could get our people in the rear to do just by treating them the way he expected others to treat him. This tactic worked much better than treating his people like we were recruits just getting off the bus.

      Yes, in three months, Dick had turned my unit into the best line unit in the Division, and probably in all of Vietnam. Please don't take my word for it. Ask anyone who served with him. His animated way of initiating and explaining the benefits behind routine commands always had an earthy and unmatched characteristic, unique to him alone. I never heard of him bullying or trying to intimidate anyone. When he spoke to the battalion, every man listened intently, and many remembered his words fifty years later. Why? Well, one reason was that Dick never brought himself up. He talked about his people and how proud he was of us, but not in a "mushy" way.

      There were always various contacts with enemy patrols and sappers, but nothing a single squad in my unit couldn't handle during the entire time Dick served as our commander, because Dick never micromanaged. He trusted us to do our job. Dick also had his uncanny assortment of little tricks. He paid special attention to little tricks that would frustrate enemy ambushes. He had his patrols zigzag instead of doing those dumb cloverleaf maneuvers. Dick also had us count off at the beginning of each patrol in force. Even numbers knew to flank to one side, while odd numbers knew to flank to the other side when we made contact with the enemy. He wasn't into trading our dead bodies for more enemy body counts. When we made contact, we would always withdraw at least fifty meters while calling in artillery on that vacated ground. Dick was also a master at nipping things in the bud and just too wily to be baited into a trap. Like an old moss-back buck, his instincts for slipping the noose were remarkable. I witnessed that several times. One of those times was when that flying tree almost squashed me. I mentioned that in an earlier chapter.

      Another time, we made an air assault at noon into a bit of clearing on top of a slight, rounded rise with thick Jungle all around. That spot had been carefully surveyed by Dick from a helicopter beforehand. Shortly after landing, enemy mortar rounds started raining down around me as I helped unload a Chinook helicopter. In less than five minutes, phantoms appeared and started roasting the Jungle around us with napalm. That was followed by an artillery barrage and then antipersonnel bombs. White phosphorus shells marked the spots for the bombers to target. The enemy shelling stopped immediately. In less than 30 minutes, Hueys were landing to extract us and take us back to a nearby base camp, where we would have a hot meal. I never learned the details behind this event. However, I would be willing to bet that it had something to do with Dick outthinking some senior commander. It seems that we had been used as bait to lure the VC into attacking. On the surface, that may sound reckless of Dick, but that's just the sort of out-of-the-box thinking that Dick was capable of producing. He was good at producing seemingly audacious tactics that would lure his bosses away from what he knew would be their much more risky plans. Every time we patrolled War Zone C, we were being used as bait, so why shouldn't Dick produce better ways to keep us from being swallowed whole by the enemy?

      Big Jim Shelton alludes to this ability in Dick in his book, "The Beast Was Out There". At this juncture in his tour, however, most of our superiors never realized the amount of expertise that Dick was putting into his job. One of his big secrets to success was knowing the power of carefully chosen words when talking to superiors and also the importance of not saying too much, especially over the radio. His words were also crafted to build us up rather than tear us down. He understood that every word he spoke, as our commander, had wings and would be heard far beyond the sound of his voice. That it was essential to realize that a boss's words had wings was something Dick learned while watching his father issue orders to his ranch hands. Dick also observed the way his father spoke to his ranch hands. Yes, since we were already being used over and over as bait, I think that it's safe to say that every man in the unit was just glad that it was Dick doing the fishing.

      Yes, Dick was the complete package. Yet, we were being sidelined once more for the likes of Lazzell. Dick had single-handedly turned the 1/18th around with no help from his superiors whatsoever, but so what? Lazzell was still chosen to lead Operation Billings, and Dick wasn't. At this point, it looked like Dick's part in advancing the much larger legacy of Richard and Henrietta King was never going to happen. If Dick missed this opportunity to lead his Dogface grunts in combat, I don't believe that he would have made general. If he had never made general, he would not have been in a position to rescue the career of other great leaders, one of whom was Norman Schwarzkopf.

     Much later in Dick's career, shortly after he was promoted to four-star general, Schwarzkopf's career had been sidelined in a dead-end job. However, Dick suggested to Norman's boss that he choose Schwarzkopf to lead the Grenada Campaign. Norman then became a shoo-in to lead coalition forces against Iraq to free Kuwait. Leading troops into Kuwait was a life-changing event for Norman and a great victory for America. It would never have happened if Dick had not been allowed to prove himself on the battlefields of Vietnam. Still, in June 1967, it seemed that Dick was never going to get that opportunity.

     To make matters worse, he was not predisposed to do anything about it. To do that, he would have had to become a showboater. That's what little men do. Dick was just too big a man to fit in those little man shoes. Ironically, the very qualities that had molded him into this great leader were also holding him back from being recognized by his superiors as being one.   

      It was destined for other battalion commanders, like Lazzell, to continue to be chosen to lead operations, instead of Dick. His career was weighted toward ending in a fizzle rather than a shooting star. He would be left with a great retirement, but he would never have become part of that greater legacy which God had in mind. Of course, his career did not fizzle. Instead, just the opposite happened. However, I very much doubt that Dick realized the why or the how of that. Dick was utterly content with his life as it was. In a phone conversation, he once described his promotion to four-star general as "a moon shot". I cringed when he made this remark. I wanted to say, "No, Dick, it was not a moon shot. Instead, you were made a part of God's grander picture, which is too large for anyone to comprehend fully". You see, mediocrity and chance are not words that have any place in describing God's works, and Henrietta King's legacy is an eternal work of God. During Operation Billings, the hand of God would turn the tables and create a much greater opportunity for Dick than he could ever have imagined. That was not done for Dick's sake alone. Instead, it was done to advance God's kingdom here on this earth. The grunts, whom Dick commanded and whom Dick cherished, would open that door for Dick. Of course, I like to think that the lowest-ranking grunt in the entire Dogface Infantry Battalion was the one who first cracked open that door.

      On the 13th, when Lazzell landed at LZ Rufe, his Rangers were unopposed. However, intelligence reports had made it noticeably clear that the 271st NVA regiment had not only been completely rebuilt, after the battle of Ap Gu, two and a half months before, but had now moved many miles further south, using numerous base camps, as staging areas to mount an attack on the large American base at Phuoc Vinh. The area was crawling with enemy patrols, as evidenced by the large number of small-unit contacts. Other American units, like Jack Toomey's 1/2nd, had air assaulted into an area several klicks S.E. of LZ Rufe the day before. Toomey, now a machine gunner, arrived in the operational area just after sheets of rain had finished dousing the landing zone with a heavy downpour.

      Lazzell was placed in overall command of both his unit and the Black Lions, who landed after his unit landed. Lt. Col. Jerry Edwards commanded them. That night, the Black Lions had two ambush patrols make contact with enemy patrols. This enemy activity, in itself, should have been a warning to Lazzell that something was afoot. The next morning, newly minted Buck Sergeant Greg Murry and his "A" Company made a sweep one thousand meters to the west of their NDP, then turned southeast to go another thousand meters. The fog from the light drizzling rain during the night gradually lifted. Bright shooting rays of sunlight pierced open areas in the overhead canopy. These columns of light illuminated patches of jungle flooring below. At 1215 hrs., one of Murry's machine gunners, Jose Garcia, was at the right place, in the line of march, to catch a glimpse of five VC congregating in one of those bright patches of sunlight. They were startled by the approaching Americans and scattered into the surrounding jungle foliage. Jose squeezed off several three-round bursts, shooting from his hip, before his gun jammed. He missed.

      Two hours later, as Murry's A Company was finishing with its sweep and was returning to the NDP, Murry could hear gunfire in the Jungle to the west. Captain Ulm's B Company was coming under some small arms fire, as they made a sweep about 1800 meters west of Murry and the NDP. Earlier, the 271st NVA field commander had his sappers determine the direction of B Company's march when they left their NDP perimeter that morning. American formations rarely changed course during a march. Instead of zigzagging, Ulm was forced to march in a straight line and perform a First Division SOP, which required the time-consuming clover leaf maneuver. Marching in a straight line made it much easier for the enemy lookouts to plot our course. The useless clover leafing maneuver slowed us down, giving the enemy more time to stage an ambush in a place of their choosing. In the Battle of Prek Klok I, B Company's straight-line movement and slow progress assured the enemy that he would have time to prepare his ambush.

      The communist commander, Vo Minh Triet, used his local guides and sapper teams to herd the brown uniformed conscripts into position. They would again do the dirty work of charging the flanks of the Americans. What did it matter that some would be blown apart by artillery fire or killed by their crossfire, from the other flank? A communist commander had no messy human rights laws to stymie his tactical imagination. While in training, these conscripted teenagers were exposed to brutal corporal punishment techniques, which traumatized their impressionable minds. Living as human moles in the tunnels of South Vietnam became much more bearable for these unfortunate souls after being exposed to the communists' brutal forms of indoctrination during training. The systematic use of fear split the minds of these child victims. Those minds were then reshaped into demonic personalities, which could be redirected to perform all sorts of maniacal acts of violence. Suicidal assaults on American defenses were just one of many hellish acts that they were conditioned to perform. The communist ideology routinely makes allowances for the manipulation of children from a very early age. Their minds are very malleable. Sympathetic news networks across the globe would refer to these child pawns using descriptive words and phrases like 'well-disciplined, committed, experienced, legendary, seasoned, storied, highly motivated, and brave liberators. Some described them as the best soldiers in the world. Ho Chi Minh, himself, was sometimes described as a Vietnamese "George Washington". However, well over 90% of Thanh's forces were nothing more than traumatized teenagers who had first fallen prey to a psychosis known as Stockholm Syndrome. Only 3% of the entire nation of Vietnam, even today, belongs to the communist party.

      The amount of initial incoming fire suggested to "B" Company commander, Captain Ulm, that they were in contact with a much smaller force than was the case. Instead of charging ahead, the savvy Captain Ulm withdrew his men a safe distance away. He then called for a thorough artillery shelling of the area. In less than 20 minutes, the shelling to his front was halted, and Ulm rushed forward, as Lazzell commanded him to do. Unfortunately, while he was making this maneuver, Triet had time to funnel his conscripts down both flanks. Soon, Ulm found himself boxed in and taking tremendous fire from three sides. It was now evident that Ulm was up against a much larger force than he had first realized.

      Things got real tense real fast. B Company started taking casualties. Two dust-offs (medevac) were damaged by enemy gunfire while trying to reach the wounded. Air strikes were requested but were useless. The enemy was too close for air support to be used without Ulm killing his men. It was now up to Captain Ulm's veteran gun slingers in B Company to come through for him. They did just that, as they had done in the battle of Prek Klok I. The shootout lasted four and a half hours. Once again, the air force would receive most of the credit for saving the day. However, was that the truth? Although the air force may have killed a few, it was much more likely that the good shooting of Ulm's grunts saved the day. I would be willing to bet that they were well schooled in how to shoot low, using three-round bursts, while methodically traversing their fire and only shooting when there was an indication that there was something to shoot at. In doing so, those grunts whittled down the enemy attackers all afternoon and saved themselves. The air force may have busted up some staging areas further back. If that happened, and that is a big "if", then that would have helped, but not as much as the Air Force was credited with. B Company lost only six men killed and 15 wounded during this very intense and long battle. That speaks volumes about the prowess of Captain Ulm and his men.

     Official enemy losses were sixty killed, but anyone with half a brain can realize that getting an accurate body count in thick Jungle is impossible. Enemy losses could have easily been double or even triple that number. Did these losses phase Thanh and his field commander Triet? Not at all. There was an almost endless supply of replacements flowing down the Ho Chi Minh Trail. Oh, how nice it was for a hater like Thanh to have complete control over how long his young conscripts would live before they breathed their last breath. With no restraints or consequences to himself or his communist cohorts, what did it matter? There were plenty more fourteen-year-old children like these. Thus ended the Battle of Xom Bo I.

      The next couple of days saw the Rangers and the Black Lions making company-sized sweeps, which resulted in no large-scale enemy contact. On June 16, Sergeant Murry was enlisted to use his skills with explosives to clear a false landing zone near LZ Rufe. Clearing false landing sights like this was done to fool the enemy into believing that another big insertion of American troops was going to take place here. It was a naive ploy, at best. Sappers, continually watched from tall trees surrounding all clearings in the area. One was watching Sergeant Murry at this very moment with a radio to report on Murry's progress. There were others in high perches surrounding Lazzell's troops at LZ Rufe. The enemy didn't care how much work we Americans did, while they watched and waited for their next opportunity to attack. They knew that we did not stay put for long. Triet settled in patiently and monitored reports by landlines and by runners. The radios were used only very rarely when needed. There would be Hell to pay for anyone who lost one. We Americans had no idea that the enemy had radios or even a signal corps operating in this area until 1969.

      As the enemy watched and waited, there were always side shows to behold. Murry was putting on one for the enemy at this very moment. He was moving from tree to tree in the "false LZ", placing his C-4 charges. The engineers, working with him, linked those charges together with long strings of detonator cord. The explosions caused every tree to collapse at once, but it also did something else. The vibrations from the explosions shook the ground in the clearing around Murry. That upset every colony of black ants in the entire clearing. These were the same kind of ants that welcomed me to Vietnam on my first patrol. They could sting and bite, and they now went after Murry, as he began to place his explosive blocks of C-4 on his following line of trees. Both Murry and his engineer friends were now having to jump up and down to shake off the furious little beasts, while being stung and bitten mercilessly. About fifty yards inside the wood line, I can imagine a sapper sitting high up in his jungle perch, clutching his Russian carbine. He would have just sat there, watching the show. At some point, he may have lazily sighted his rifle on Murry, thinking what fun it would be to nail Murry at the top of his jump. Then he could watch Murry crumble to the ground. However, he also knew that would be a big mistake. It would no doubt be a thrill to shoot this American, but it would also disturb the rest of these Americans similarly as those black ants had been disturbed. These Americans, however, possessed much more powerful weapons than a stinger in their tail. They had five-hundred-pound bombs which they could drop on his head in no time flat. With that thought in mind, instead of shooting Murray, he lazily yawned and laid his rifle back across his lap while continuing to watch the antics.

      To prove that the telling of my story is not so far-fetched, on this same day, a security team for other engineers working at nearby LZ X-Ray got into a firefight with a small number of black pajama sappers on the northern end of that same clearing. Their security patrol had run into them just inside the wood line. Of course, the sappers were again observing the engineers and familiarizing themselves with routes to the clearing. If we Americans did land a force in the clearing, Triet wanted to be prepared to guide the brown uniformed conscripts into attack positions. Once in place, their deplorable lives could then be transformed into sacrificial lambs for the cause. His tactics were not meant to win battles. He knew these deplorables stood little chance of winning battles against an industrialized America. Instead, their purpose was to die in a human wave attack so we Americans would think that we were winning. Triet's boss, Thanh, knew very well that we had a track record of fighting, winning, and going away, so why not let us keep winning until we decided to go away for good? During this particular firefight, no American was hurt, and the sappers withdrew only a short distance. They knew that this group of engineers would not follow them. This enemy contact was most certainly reported to Lazzell. The engineers finished their work and were flown back to Lai Khe that afternoon. Fortunately for them, Triet had bigger fish to fry.

      On the 13th, the 1/28th Infantry Battalion had discovered a huge regimental-sized base camp with 150 unmanned bunkers, just south of LZ Rufe. This base camp was only one of many unoccupied base camps scattered throughout South Vietnam. Local VC political teams were placed in charge of guarding and securing civilians to help build and maintain them. The very next day, after having his ranks thinned by Captain Ulm, Triet had already received more khaki uniformed conscripts, just hours later, coming from another hidden base camp north of his current position. They had previously been hopping from one base camp to another, moving further south toward the general Phuoc Vinh area day after day. Now they waited in these bunkered camps scattered throughout the area to become replacements, as needed, like pawns on a chessboard.

      NVA units did not need to hike back across the Cambodian border to replenish themselves. If they were shot to pieces by us Americans, reinforcements were usually only hours away in other nearby base camps. However, it was not as easy to make up losses in the ranks of the sappers, like the one watching Murry do his little dance routine with the ants. Those were composed of the more brainwashed and better-trained communists who were intimately familiar with the habits of local citizens and the trails in their area. Most of these were somewhat true believers, not because they favored communist ideals so much as they favored the power that came with their position. Their position in life somewhat resembled that of a "made man" in a neighborhood controlled by the mafia.

      By the time Triet had that shootout with Ulm's boys, his ranks had long since been replenished after the battle of Ap Gu. Even now, as recently as that fight with Ulm, his ranks were fully restored, with replacements coming from other nearby hideouts. On June 17, Triet was fully ready to rock and roll.

      Westmoreland had vast but fragmented knowledge of conditions on the battlefield, which was Vietnam. However, he lacked God's courage and understanding to assemble a meaningful picture of that battlefield. He was no David or Alexander the Great. If Westmoreland had sought God's wisdom in leading the war effort, he would have soon realized that the strategy of attrition worked in favor of the communists, instead of us. The communist mindset was not simply programmed to endure high losses of human life. It was one that often delighted in those losses. They took advantage of those losses to purge those whom they deemed the less productive and undesirable elements of their utopian state.

     Westmoreland went to his death defending his mindless battle of attrition. However, he didn't know, and he certainly didn't understand. In 1974, he revealed his willful and continued ignorance when he made the following remark. "The Oriental doesn't put the same high price on life as does a Westerner. We value life and human dignity. They don't care about life and human dignity." That statement couldn't be further from the truth. To the contrary, here is the truth. Without the love of God, which is placed in a believer's heart at the time we are born of the Spirit, there is no enlightenment in any of us to love those we don't know personally. Ethnicity has nothing to do with it. In Vietnam, it was the communist ideology, not race or culture, which bred a callous disregard for life. The defining characteristics of Marxism ensure that only sociopaths will rise through the ranks to the most powerful positions in government. If Westmoreland had understood this, then perhaps his mind would have been more open to a very different strategy. Instead, his disregard for human life allowed him to latch onto his simplistic and morbid body count strategy. He held on to that false belief so tight that it shocked even the carnal senses of average Americans.

     The decision was made by brigade, on the morning of June 17, to march two battalions under Lazzell's command on foot to another clearing 1500 meters north. That clearing had been prepared for those two battalions the day before, by Captain Pascarelli's C company, of the 1st engineering Battalion. Those engineers blasted down trees in the destination LZ named X-Ray to clear areas for resupply helicopters to land safely. This work occurred at the same time that Murry and another group of engineers from this engineering battalion were clearing trees in the false LZ.

      Tree top sappers were watching all these LZs closely and reporting back to Triet. His sappers and NVA planners used a wire strung to various relay points to communicate faster. Registration rounds had already been fired, marking key strike locations at LZ X-Ray. These mortar teams were hidden deep within the triple canopy jungle surrounding the clearing. The arrival of the engineers on the morning of the 16th at LZ X-Ray reinforced the fact that Triet needed to continue preparing this 500-meter-long clearing for an ambush. He was certainly not fooled by the creation of Murry's false LZ. Triet knew that he needed to be ready to greet the Americans wherever they decided to land. Ox cart trails leading into the clearing at X-Ray had to be marked for sappers, who would be guiding largely clueless conscripts from nearby assembly points to their attack positions around the clearing. From there, they would charge the Americans at the sound of a whistle. If they assembled too soon and too close to the clearing, a prepping of the surrounding area would wipe conscripts out before they could be formed up to make those suicidal charges. If the Americans prepped the area before entering the clearing, that would severely hamper Triet's plans. The bombing would disrupt recognizable landscape around troop assembly points and destroy communication lines and booby traps. It could cause Triet to call off the ambush.

     Nevertheless, the ambush preparations had to be started, whether they were carried out or not. It made no difference. Cancelations of evolving battle plans, like this, happened all the time. It was to be expected. The effort was good training and would not be wasted, no matter whether he pulled it off or had to wait for a more opportune time.

      What more purposeful labor and death could these rice farmers be called upon to perform than a death that contributed to the goal of forging a utopian state? I believe this is what Triet believed because I believe Triet was one of those rare few who had not only swallowed the communist lie but digested it. It had become a part of who he was. He, himself, had not slept in a real bed since 1961. He had been exposed to death many times as he rose in the ranks of the communist party. It was exciting. However, in the communist hierarchy, he was still far enough removed from personal contact with top leadership, like the pedophile Ho Chi Minh, and the murderous Mr. Duan, to have his idealism shattered by too close an association with those twisted minds at the top. In a sick way, Triet's train of thought was spot on. It wasn't as if these young conscripts would ever live in an environment that would allow them to fiddle with a television in their garage and someday turn it into a computing device that would change the world. Heck, they didn't even have garages or televisions. When advanced technologies finally emerged, they would come from the brainstorming of protected minds, which lived under the rule of righteous laws, fairly enforced by freedom-loving societies, and not from tyrannical Marxist dictatorships. A Marxist is forced to steal their technology because murderous thoughts and productive thoughts cannot share the same brain cells.

      Yes, I would have to disagree with Westmoreland's belief that all Orientals devalue life more than Westerners. Still, I would agree with anyone who thinks that there will always be those demented few who gain control of our children, turning them into deranged zombies for their evil purposes. If anything, young Vietnamese men and women, if given an opportunity, value and honor their parents much more than we Westerners do. In many cases, it was this powerful bond between family members that contributed to the duplicitous actions of the South Vietnamese. Often, they were only desperately trying to protect other family members in any way possible. Most of my readers would do the same thing if presented with the same set of circumstances. 

      Dawn appeared at LZ Rufe, on June 17, 1967, through a low-hanging mist, penetrated by tiny droplets of drizzling rain. Soon after first light, Triet started receiving reports from his scouts that something unusual was happening with the Americans he was shadowing. As he sat under a wet canopy, listening to more and more of these same reports, coming from his wired communications and runners, it became apparent that today was going to be a day of opportunities. He would have to continue to hide and keep watch. Just how opportune things would turn out was yet to be determined. However, events so far were indicating that this day could be a very good day indeed. The messages that he was receiving were certainly good. The Americans at LZ Rufe were filling in their bunkers and emptying sandbags. These actions were a clear indication that they were going to make a permanent withdrawal from LZ Rufe. What Triet needed to know now was how they would withdraw. Would they withdraw by helicopter or on foot? Where would they go? Would they go home or move to another location? He knew withdrawals deep in the Jungle were usually made by helicopters, supported by a lot of covering artillery fires and gunships. While troops were loading, air strikes would also blast away at potential troop assembly areas around the extraction point. If this was going to be the case, it wasn't a good scenario for Triet. It would be better for him to keep hiding and watching for a better day. Shortly after 0700 hours, however, Triet received the news, which he had dared hope for but doubted that it would ever happen. When Triet received the news, however, it was almost too good to be true. American troops were assembling at the northern end of LZ Rufe and marching single file into the Jungle. Triet soon had his best trackers on the job, verifying the direction and pace of these troops. Oh, could it be so? Could they indeed be heading for the large clearing 1500 meters to the north (LZ-X-Ray)? If that was true, Triet realized he now had the better part of three hours to position his troops for an assault on that clearing, after allowing the Americans to arrive and start digging in. To make matters even better, he had been training his troop for an assault on this very clearing.

      Without realizing it, Lazzell had now given Triet all the information he needed to set in motion an attack. Triet began to put his attack plans into high gear, being careful not to move his troops in too close, too quickly. He reminded himself that he needed to wait until American air strikes and artillery had finished prepping the area. Then those ox cart trails would become mighty handy. They were wide enough to move his troops quickly, after holding them back at a safer distance, until the Americans had finished shelling and bombing the jungle around the perimeter of LZ X-Ray. When the shelling stopped, double columns of his conscripts could be double-timed down these wider trails until they reached marked areas around the perimeter. The markings were in the form of shallow fox holes, which had already been dug several days before, not only to act as markers, letting the guides know where to halt and start dispersing the troops, but also to give these brown uniformed conscripts a little protection from rifle fire coming from us Americans, as well as the machine gun fire coming from Triet's machine gun crews located behind those conscripts. This tactic was used repeatedly in practice maneuvers, like the one they had just finished, which left all those footprints, which Point Man Gunby would later point out to Lazzell. These troops had practiced this maneuver repeatedly. Some carried RPGs and were taught to target American machine gun crews. Today, two of those American machine gunners would be Sergeant Murry's men, Jose Garcia and Bob Pointer. Enemy RPG teams would watch and wait for these American machine gunners to start killing conscripts. When the Americans opened up, it was easy to spot their location because they were required to fire tracers every fifth round. Those tracers said, "Here I am. Hey, I'm over here". Once the masses of conscripts were spread out from the ox cart trails into these shallow foxhole locations, life was reduced to two choices for them.

     When the whistles blew, signaling for an assault to be made, they could either rise and make the suicidal assault or be shot dead by their NCOs. At the same time those whistles blew, the alert NVA machine gunners would stop firing, so they wouldn't shoot these conscripts in the back. Field telephone communications would also notify the mortar crews to stop firing. Simply put, Triet's dehumanized outfit was taught to perform like a well-oiled Borg machine, devoid of all human feelings for the well-being of the individual. It was only the collective that mattered. There was only one factor now that could cause him to delay his attack plans. If the prepping destroyed too much of the area around the clearing, then he would choose to hold off and fight another day. 

     In comparison to Triet, as a tactician, it was as if Lazzell had just stepped off a plane at Tan Son Nhut Airport the day before. It seemed he had learned nothing during his many contacts with the enemy. Not only was he an incompetent tactician, but he was also a bad peacetime battalion commander, too. He had no notion of how to relate to subordinates in general. After gleaning through report after report on the battle of Xom Bo II, I could hardly believe what I was reading. I have no personal bias toward anyone or anything here. I am just stating what I believe to be true, from the perspective of an objective observer who was there on that battlefield. I hope that up-and-coming young leaders, who read this, will be able to glean a valuable lesson from it. I couldn't find a single report of this battle, which reflected well upon Lazzell. Unlike Cavazos, or Haig, or Triet, for that matter, there was no indication that Lazzell had learned anything from past experiences on the battlefield. This inability severely handicapped him in determining what his enemy was planning next. By this time, he had been in more engagements than at least ninety percent of other field officers. Yet, on this day, he seemed transfixed on the much less significant problem of getting from point A to point B within the targeted timetable. Sad to say, the coordination of that effort seemed to be kicking his rear end. As he faced his last battle, before his tour of duty ended, I think it is correct to say that Lazzell was in over his head. Yet, it also seems that he was convinced that he had arrived as the embodiment of what a field commander should be. This is a typical endpoint for little men if they are allowed to remain in their leadership position without proper correction. They acquire an inflated perception of themselves. Westmoreland had this same false perception, too, as evidenced in his autobiography, "A Soldier Reports". Later, military leaders like Lt. General Lawson Magruder would make vast strides in developing and improving our leadership training tools to deal with little man syndrome. Unfortunately, this didn't happen in time to benefit those commanders like Rufus Lazzell and thus our nation in the Vietnam War. You see, most "little men" can be rehabilitated with the proper guidance from superiors. Once rehabilitated, a little man's mind is then set free to focus on the problem at hand. I believe this would have been highly likely in Lazzell's case.

      Here are some more reasons why I say what I have just said. First off, the lineup for the march from LZ Rufe to LZ X-Ray was wrong on several counts. One essential thing that I noticed when I arrived after the battle that day was the lack of prepping around the perimeter of LZ X-Ray by the Air Force. Murry's 1/16th A Company led the march to the new location. Lazzell and headquarters followed. Captain Ulm's B Company was next. At the same time, the very experienced First Lt. Doug Logan's recon platoon was sandwiched in behind their own Battalion and B Company of the Black Lions, who were bringing up the rear. This lineup immediately brings to mind a disturbing question. Why would Lazzell place his most capable troops, which were the recon unit, in the middle of the line of march? Instead, his recon should have been sent out at first light to scout the route ahead of the line of march. Also, long before making the move, they should have already scouted and reported back to Lazzell with a diagram of the area around LZ-X-Ray. That would have given Lazzell the lay of the land, so to speak, so he could have already had his artillery people target critical locations with registration rounds long before the march began. Here is another glaring error. B Company of the 2/28th Black Lions marched out that morning at the rear of the Rangers, but their A Company was made to wait until B Company had arrived at the destination, three hours later, before they were allowed to move out. It was 1030 hours before FO David Hearne and company left LZ Rufe. As a side note, their point man got them lost along the way. First Lt. Hearne was a forward observer attached to this particular Black Lions A Company and later authored a book about the battle. David recorded various conversations with the men, who were there that day. There was no indication that it had occurred to Lt. Colonel Lazzell to do any of the preparations which I just mentioned. I also found it disturbing that Hearne couldn't remember if there had been an early morning pre-march face-to-face meeting between Lazzell and his key people. David and his cohorts were among the key people. A face-to-face like this was essential, on many levels, before making any maneuver. Key subordinates needed to know, in a very personal way, precisely what their leader expected of them, and also how important their function was to the success of that particular undertaking. That message has much more power when communicated face-to-face. Cavazos understood this. Apple magnet, Steve Jobs, understood this, but Lazzell did not.

      As the forward element approached the perimeter of LZ X-Ray, its point man stumbled across a huge warning sign. That warning sign was a well-worn trail discovered just 200 meters from the clearing at LZ X-Ray. Although Lazzell had two recon platoons, which he should have used to scout this area already, this was the first time that he was finding out about this trail. This wasn't the first time that Lazzell failed to properly scout an area or ignore warning signs on the battlefield. The significance of this trail, however, was not lost on Donnie Gunby. Donnie was the country boy grunt in sergeant Murry's 2nd platoon, who found the trail. The trail had been heavily worn down very recently by a lot of heavy foot traffic. Donnie and anyone else with field experience knew this was important information. With his mad face on, however, because he was running behind schedule and was now having to pause again, Lazzell came stomping up to examine the trail for himself. He was visibly irritated about having to halt the column. The sour look on his face silenced everyone's input around him. This toxic attitude also prevented him from performing one of the most critical functions a battlefield commander will ever perform. That function is the ability to allow oneself the time and presence of mind to analyze new data. Why were there so many footprints on this trail? The angry Lazzell never asked that question. Instead, he focused on venting his anger because he was running behind schedule. Being behind schedule was his fault. Hearne wrote about the discovery of the trail and Lassell's reaction to it in his book, "June 17, 1967 – Battle of Xom Bo II". Hearne wrote the following. "The path's discovery caused 2nd platoon to halt their march so they could investigate their find temporarily. They were the lead element, which meant the long column of men snaking behind them would be stopped, and the men would be wondering what was going on. The column would become one big, dangerous traffic jam. The path was reported to their platoon leader, Second Lt. Sermuskis. Once the Lieutenant saw how fresh and used the trail looked, he contacted Captain Williamson, who came strolling up to check out the find. Meanwhile, Lieutenant Colonel Lazzell was fuming over the delay in the march. He was pissed off that the march had halted and wanted to know why in the Hell Alpha Company had stopped. Lazzell wasn't alarmed much by the trail but did call in an air strike to the east of LZ X-Ray. The fact that we were a bit behind schedule seemed to bother Lazzell more than the evidence of a large unit's presence". This splendid recounting of events by David Hearne just before Lazzell entered the clearing gives me an excellent understanding of how things were unfolding. 

      If only the 1/16th commander had just stopped the fuming long enough to ask himself that all-important question, Why were all those fresh tracks there? That could have set in motion steps that could have made the events of the rest of the day go much better for Lazzell's command. Donnie Gunby had already performed his job superbly. He found evidence of a large enemy force nearby. Donnie also knew this meant they were in danger of being attacked. Every officer and NCO who was staring down at those tracks knew this too. At the Battle of Ap Gu, Haig had done a splendid job of modeling critical thinking for Lazzell to see. However, little men have a hard time listening in class because they are too distracted by their thoughts. It wasn't hard to deduce. Those footprints were made very recently by a large number of people. The obvious question to ask was, "Why had so many people been walking around on this particular spot on the earth?". For sure, they were not going to a Beatles concert. The Beatles were not even in town on this day. So, what was going on with all these fresh footprints being made around a vacant landing zone? The obvious question would have been, "Do you suppose that they had been practicing for an attack on us Americans?" "Hum", Donnie and everyone else wondered that very same thing, but not Lazzell. He was too worried about his timetable to ponder a question like this. Instead, Lazzell got mad, but not because he was running behind his timetable. He got angry because he was afraid that his superiors would be displeased with him for running behind. Now, his anger froze all those neurons in his brain responsible for critical thinking. Truth is, at least one of his superiors had probably already reinforced that feeling in Lazzell's insecure mind. David Hearne, Donnie, and the others realized the danger, but "little men" don't probe for feedback from subordinates. Furthermore, they often don't value that feedback when it's given, and they don't value it for the most superficial reasons. That trail was screaming to all who had ears that a large force could attack Lazzell at any time. Lazzell, however, remained as clueless as Mickey Rooney when picking his next wife.  

      Upon arriving at the clearing a little after 1030 hours, Murry's 1/16th A Company skirted the east side of the clearing some 500 meters to the northernmost edge, taking up positions from twelve o'clock to two o'clock around the perimeter of the clearing. The Old War Horse, Captain Ulm and his B Company, spread out from 2 o'clock to 4 o'clock on the east side. 2/28 B Company took the western side of the perimeter, tying in with the 1/16th on its northern flank, and stretching to about the 7 o'clock position in the south. There were so many mistakes made while trying to establish perimeter lines that I'm not sure where to begin pointing them out. First off, Lazzell had four companies to cover the entire perimeter. Yet, he divided the spacing of those companies, as though he had all six companies present. Had he forgotten that he left both 1/16th C Company and 2/28th C Company behind at LZ Rufe? To make matters worse, almost as an afterthought, he had his recon platoon fill in the resulting gap on the south side of the perimeter. Their 28 men were given the impossible task of covering an area longer than that which should have been assigned to an entire company. At the Battle of Ap Gu, Haig had modeled for Lazzell numerous good decisions, which withstood the test of a ferocious attack. However, it was as if Lazzell had taken no note of that experience whatsoever. One key factor Lazzell should have taken note of was the benefits gained when Haig held back his recon platoon in reserve, to be used as needed during the heat of battle. 2/28th A company (the company Hearne was attached to) left the old NDP late, so they arrived late, but they could still have been used to shore up the southern perimeter, freeing up recon to become a standby force. Instead, A Company of the 2/28th was ordered to stay within the clearing and spread out to the north behind 2/28th B Company, which was inside the wood line. If attacked, not only would the southern portion of the perimeter be lightly defended, but now A Company would not be able to shoot at an attacking enemy without putting their own B Company in a crossfire situation. The same thing happened to Murry's platoon on the northern side of the perimeter. His 2nd platoon was placed behind the 1st platoon. Haig, on the other hand, in laying out the perimeter at Ap Gu, had his men establish positions along the entire perimeter and start digging in immediately. Lazzell couldn't allow anyone to start digging in because his initial sloppy positioning of troops made sure that most of his companies were not in their permanent positions.

      There is no doubt that things would have gone quite differently if Cavazos had been leading Lazzell's battalions on June 17. Ranch life had taught Dick to be resourceful. Lazzell was still struggling to spell that word, much less know what it meant. Dick had learned early not only how to be resourceful himself but also how to spot and use the resourcefulness of others. No leader should try to be a one-person band. Learning from observing his dad's resourcefulness, Dick had developed the ability to pick the right guy for the job. He had also come to realize that no subordinate is ever going to be good at everything they do all the time, and there are certain things that they are never going to be good at. Observing his dad, Lauro, as he exerted his leadership over other ranch hands, taught Dick a lot more about human nature than I have time to discuss here. Most of it became embedded in his subconscious, so deep that I doubt even Dick himself understood how he was able to do what he did. Dick could pick the proper junior officer every time without belaboring his choice. In turn, that subordinate learned to mimic Dick in choosing his subordinates, without Dick having to intervene. Very soon, the entire unit became self-starting. We could establish a battalion perimeter, complete with the DePuy fighting positions, in less than half the time of other units in the Division. Delegating, and then trusting, but verifying, not only worked well for Reagan, but it also worked well for Dick. Maybe it was Dick's original idea to use mattocks and Marston matting, or perhaps it wasn't. Who cared? It was a good idea, and that's all that mattered. Many battalions, including the 1/16th, established two-person positions. We always had three men to a position. That gave each position an extra man, which meant we had one-third more muscle power to dig in faster. It also allowed us three men to pull guard, which translated into more rest time for each man. Men could be pulled from perimeter positions for other details and patrols, and we still had two men manning each position at all times. Lastly, the third man could watch the rear opening of our fighting position for bad guys, during an attack, or retrieve more ammunition. This was just another routine improvement, but it had a powerful effect on our performance.

      Before the beginning of the attack, which began around 1230 hours, Murry's A company had been left to lounge around the north side of the perimeter for almost two hours. The attitude was such that Lazzell's men were behaving as if they were on practice maneuvers in a secure area. There was no sense of urgency whatsoever. Many of them were lying back on their ruck sacks, napping out, eating, or reading letters from home. Machine gunners failed to have their boxes of ammo dropped off near enough to them so they wouldn't have to retrieve them under fire. One of Murry's machine gunners had failed to set his gun up until the battle started. Under Cavazos, we would have already fully encircled the clearing and had a well-protected perimeter established, with DePuy bunkers well under construction. Instead, not a single foxhole had been started. To top this jumbled mess off, the 2/28th's A Company was strung out in the open, as if to say, "Here I am. Drop your mortars on me first".

      Cavazos would have prepped the entire perimeter just before we grunts started arriving. When Dick prepped an LZ, he spared no expense. He used every asset available to him. Napalm and antipersonnel bombs were a favorite. This would have eliminated many of the snipers and spotters, who were hiding in trees surrounding the clearing. It would also have destroyed much of the communications wiring and disrupted the ox cart trails, making it harder to herd the conscripts down those trails. Yet, when we arrived after the battle was over, it was obvious to me that the perimeter had not been properly prepped. Amazingly, Lazzell gave so little thought to his job. Even more amazing is the fact that senior officers did not recognize his incompetence. Instead, he seemed to be perceived by senior command as the pride of the First Division. Lazzell had been extremely fortunate to be surrounded by exceptional commanders like Haig and subordinate commanders like Captain Ulm, who covered his sins and bailed him out of some very critical situations. In Lazzell's defense, by June 17, his unit had been overworked. He, himself, was a short timer who had seen much more than his share of combat. Those two factors, alone, should have been enough reason for picking Cavazos instead of Lazzell to lead this operation.