Pornography and Aerodynamics Lead to Successful "Pacifier" Mission

The 1st Battalion, 5th Marines, whose CP was on Hill 34, southwest of Da Nang was detached from its parent regiment and was under the operational control of the Division. One of its jobs was to maintain a company on ten-minute alert as a quick reaction force.  The alert force was saddled with the detested code name of "Pacifier" (The thumb sucking torment directed at its members by artillery tenants of Hill 34 led to some serious combat in the EM club).  The Pacifiers, reacting to hard intelligence, most of which came from radio intercepts and periodic reconnaissance sightings, would zip off by helicopter to attack identified VC/NVA targets in the 1st Division's Tactical Area of Responsibility (TAOR).  Some missions proved fruitful, some turned out to be busts, "dry holes" in the argot of the time.  Normally a package of four CH-46s and a command and control Huey would arrive at Hill 34's LZ early every morning. A "target list" of places to go and things to do would already be drawn up by the time the birds arrived.  After a pilot brief and a review of the Pacifier SOP, the mission would launch, marry up with two Cobra gunbirds and head for the first objective on the list.

At about 1000 on a sunny day on 25 September 1970, the team landed on a suspected VC site at a hamlet of Ap Ba on the banks of the Song Thu Bon.  It turned out to be a dry hole -- no VC.  The area, however, was notorious for mines and booby traps, so the troops didn't waste time clumping around to set one off. Instead they flew to Fire Base Baldy (5th Marines CP), twenty air miles southeast of Da Nang, and set down to wait.  There was hard intelligence that a VC cadre meeting was to take place at 1300 at Truong Son another hamlet at the southern foothills of the Queson Mountains, a haven for the VC/NVA.  This one turned out to be a winner.

At the appointed hour and without a zone prep, the Pacifier flared into a dry paddy adjacent to the hamlet and caught the bad guys by surprise.  A short running gun battle ensued as a half dozen VC headed for the hills.  Most got away, except one gent in black pajamas.  He cut across the paddy in view of a firing line of Marines on full automatic.  Not one Marine hit him!  "Cease Fire!, Cease Fire!" screamed disgusted fire team leader, L/Cpl Reynolds.  Dropping his own M-16, he took off after his quarry with Olympian speed and tackled him.  All stared slack jawed at this display of derring-do.   With a wide grin on his face, Reynolds dragged the little fellow back, waving the captive's pistol above his head in symbolic triumph (He got to keep the pistol, got a pat on the back and received high conduct and proficiency marks).  That ended the day's operation and all hands flew back to Hill 34, pleased with themselves despite the atrocious display of marksmanship.  The prisoner was turned over to the intelligence people and 1/5 went about its business with little further thought given to the skinny and wizened captive.

As later related by the prisoner's custodians, the 1st Division Intelligence Translator Team (ITT), their guest was identified as Nguyen Loi.  He was the Vietcong intelligence chief for the Quang Da Special Zone.  Having spent most of his life in the bush he looked much older than his forty some odd years.  Loi was a long time communist having fought the French, then the Saigon and American armies.  He was what the Irish call a "hard case."  Although he was an intelligence jewel, he was as tough as nails and totally resistant to interrogation.  He kept his mouth shut and simply glared at his questioners.  The team was getting no cooperation from Loi, nor any information.  His only concession was to accept food, drink and cigarettes.  Yet, they kept working on him while keeping him isolated and his presence secret.  Loi was a challenge to their professional pride.

That brings us to the opening question.  Did the team member returning from R&R in Bangkok, bring back any skin flicks.  You bet he did.  After chow that evening the ITT SEA hut became a Cineplex in anticipation of a premier screening of a sure Academy Award contender.  As the troops settled in, one thought to ask, "I wonder if Loi would like to watch this?"  No sooner was the idea raised, then the sullen VC was ushered in to the orchestra seats and given a Coke and a Marlboro. The lights dimmed and the film began to roll.  The first couple in the award winning flick had barely exhausted themselves when a hiss issued from Loi's hitherto sealed lips.  All heads turned to look.  What they saw was a palsied man shaking like a aspen leaf in the wind.  Impervious to the stares, Loi's eyes were fixed steadily upon the silver screen.  It was clear that Loi had never seen the likes of it during his long years in the Outback.  "Gents, I think we just broke the code," said somebody.  And indeed they had.  Loi had become an avid movie fan.  In return for a season theater pass, he would tell the ITT anything they wanted to know.

Loi revealed that the headquarters of the Quang Da Special Zone was hidden in a draw on the southern slopes of the Quesons.  The French, ARVN's and Marines had struggled over the neighboring rugged terrain for years and never spotted it.  The VC identified the general location on a 1:50,000 map, without being specific. He knew its location from traversing the terrain, but the map was foreign to him.  Arrangements were made to fly over the area incident to helicopter resupply missions.  Loi had never been in a helicopter before, was frightened, got sick and said it was too high for him to identify any landmarks.  Next he went on dedicated flights in a Huey from varied altitudes and angles, all disguised as routine flights.  The aerial reconnaissance was beginning to work.  With the help of vertical and oblique photos plus growing familiarity with American maps, he was able to locate what he believed was the draw he was looking for.  When he found out that another team member was due back from R & R in Hong Kong, he even offered to go along with the Marines to and guide them in an attack on the position.

All of this was unknown to the Marines of 1/5 until they received orders in early November to conduct the attack.  Having tromped the Quesons to little effect in the past, all hands were a bit skeptical about success.  Nonetheless a plan was quickly drawn up for a two company operation.  A Company commanded by Capt Tony Zinni. would land by CH-46 in the low ground at the bottom of the draw.  B Company under Capt Art Garcia, a tough old mustang, would land on the high ground above the draw.  A Battalion jump CP would go in with Bravo.  On the morning of the appointed day, the heliborne assault began,. and with it Murphy's Law was activated.  Immediately upon landing, Alpha Company came under fire.  Zinni among others was hit.  A medevac was called in as the Marines continued the attack. It was at this point either Loi, his ITT handlers or both panicked.  According to the handlers, Loi heard his name being shouted from among the rocks with threats to kill him.  He allegedly became unglued, hunkered down and would not move forward.  When the medevac chopper arrived, it was not only Zinni who was thrown aboard, but also Loi and the ITT escort followed suit on the grounds that Loi was in no shape to continue and he was too valuable to lose in the fire fight.  That was their story and they were sticking with it.  At any rate 1/5's guide to the hidden headquarters was safely winging his way to Baldy while a fire fight continued for an elusive command post, hidden within the nooks, crannies and boulders of the Quesons.  The VC were clearly caught by surprise and their defense was more desperate than organized.  But, without Loi, nobody knew which of the many draws in front of them is the one they wanted.

The Marines slowly gained ground and the counter fire from what turned out to be the C-111 VC Company diminished until it ceased altogether, accept for a small pocket of resistance, skillfully dug in on the lower slopes.  It received the undivided attention of Alpha Company which took some casualties in the process.  Again a medevac was called in, but the terrain was extremely rugged and it was shot out of the zone until a pair of Cobras arrived on scene.  One, piloted by a nugget with huge gonads hovered over the enemy position at spitting altitude.  Remaining motionless and vulnerable, he hosed down the VC while the medevac made a successful run.  That done, a pair of A-4s which had been on strip alert, were called in to saturate the enemy strong point with snake and nape.  All was quiet after that until late in the afternoon when 1/5 began receiving significant fire from beyond the cordon they had established around the draws and gullies that presumably housed the Quang Da headquarters.  The immediate impulse was to go after them, but wait a minute, it seemed that the VC were just a little too anxious to have the Marines do just that.  They appeared to want to draw them away from the complex of draws that had just been overrun by 1/5.  Loi was right, 1/5 was within striking distance of gold.  The Marines did not take the bait and chase their antagonists.  The pair of Cobras was dispatched to take care of them.  The battalion would take up its uncertain quest in the morning.  1/5 settled into night defensive positions as evening drew nigh and the battlefield grew quiet.

As the sun rose the following morning, regrettably it was not correspondingly matched by the Marines' spirits.  The common sentiment was "Here we go again, blundering around the Quesons looking for an invisible objective. Been there, done that."  But orders are orders and everybody turned-to unenthusiastically beating the bush for signs of life and habitation.  The effort was not rewarded with success and the battalion commander was about ready to pack it in as a job not very well done.  However, his enthusiasm was rekindled by the surprise arrival of Maj. Gen C.F, Widdecke, the Division commander, who during the afternoon of the second day dropped in from the sky.  Full of optimism he inspired a renewed effort by tactfully implying that 1/5 "would stay in these goddam mountains until they found the goddam headquarters, godammit!"  Then as mysteriously as he had arrived, he flew off to torment some other poor souls.  The only other thing to drop from the sky that day was heavy rain.

Day three saw none of the enthusiasm engendered by the motivational visit of El Supremo the day before.  By then there were no signs of loitering VC, so the threat to life and limb disappeared.  The lackadaisical bush beating resumed with pairs of lethargic Marines climbing over rock slides, fallen trees and through bushes and razor grass looking for the kingdom of Oz.  And this is where Frisbee aerodynamics came into play.  Pfc Hughes was a good Marine, but he was not a particularly Gung Ho Marine.  He would do his time in Vietnam, return to the world and get on with his life.  He is probably a good lawyer somewhere in middle America. (Wherever you are today, Hughes, good on ya).  To combat the boredom and to wile away the time, between and on Pacifier operations he always carried a fuscha colored Frisbee.  In fact, he and one of his buddies were tossing the Frisbee around at the air strip at Baldy in the interval before the operation that resulted in Loi's capture in September.  At any rate, by the third day in the Quesons, Hughes was not enamored with what he believed to be a futile search.  Out of sight of his fire team and squad leaders (easy to do in the rugged Quesons), he and another Marine grew tired of the fruitless peeking under rocks to find something they doubted existed.  Deciding to do something more useful, Hughes broke out his Frisbee and began a game of catch.  On one exchange, the disk went awry, sailed over the head of the receiver and landed in a bush.  Whether it was Hughes or his fellow Marine who retrieved it remains lost in the subsequent excitement.  But in retrieving it, one of them spotted a small hole hidden by the bush.  Taking out his K-Bar, the Marine probed at the hole, which grew bigger and bigger with every probe.

Sure enough, Hughes and company had found an entrance to Oz.  The hole was one of many entrances/exits to Loi's haven.  It wasn't long before entry was gained to a well hidden cave complex; a truly an extraordinary feat of primitive engineering.  Carved out of solid rock by pick and shovel was a large chamber, which must have taken years to excavate.  Among its features was an elaborate system of bamboo conduits, some to bring in fresh water, some to evacuate and dissipate the smoke from cooking fires.  There were bunks constructed from American barbed wire stakes laced with comm wire to accommodate over a hundred troops.  There was even a separate room, with a proper cot and desk, presumably for an officer.  Piled up in an alcove were an estimated twenty seven tons of rice.  For all the years of operating in the Quesons, nobody had an inkling of the cave's existence.

The piece de resistance stood against the wall of the main chamber.  It was a filing cabinet made up of used U.S. five gallon coffee cans set on their sides and bound together with comm wire.  In the containers were the personnel and pay records, complete with photos of all the VC agents and double agents in Da Nang and the whole of Quang Nam Province.  There were a total of 18,000 pages of priceless documentation on the VC infrastructure, which was subsequently turned over to the CIA.  No wonder the C-111 Company was unhappy with 1/5's arrival.  In addition to failing to protect its crown jewels, much of its weaponry and stores were captured.  The unit itself was rendered combat non-effective and was scratched from the G-2's VC Order of Battle.  The operation cost the lives of two Marines with nine wounded.  The rice in the cave was destroyed, but detonating copious amounts of C-4 failed to collapse the granite cave.  It is probably still there serving as home for a pride of the dreaded Queson tigers, infamous for gobbling up unwary Marines on listening post.

The find was kept secret within American circles because of the incriminating data on the South Vietnam officials, but at least 1/5 received a Navy Unit Citation for its efforts.  Loi's ultimate fate is unknown.  He may be a movie producer in Ho Chi Minh City.  In the final analysis, the least that can be said about the operations is that pornography and frivolous conduct can have some redeeming military, if not social value.

Lt. Gen. Trainor commanded both 1/5 and the Reconnaissance Battalion in Vietnam.

Submitted by:
    Glenn F. "Smoke" Burrgess, Colonel USMC (Ret)