The Day We Lost Three Good Men
By Dave
Stromire
Echo 2/1 ’68-69
When I speak of
For some reason, I
want to tell you of a day in
This story has been written before by another,
who has also been cut at the very marrow of his being.
He brought back very vivid memories of my interpretation of
January 15th 1969. And, spoke so
eloquently of my 1st squad leader and friend. Although we who were there,
experienced the same battle. We saw it so differently through our
own eyes. But, that does not diminish any of our own truths or
memories. It just validates, that
January 15th was real, and “HEROES were born even from death”. Until I read his story, I always thought of
January 15th as a song from Billy Joel. (A Cartoon, In a Cartoon
Graveyard). Now I am forced to remember it as it were yesterday and all
the pieces have come together full circle.
It was during a routine ‘squad’ patrol on
January 13th or 14th, while crossing that dreaded rice paddy that took us out
to the
We called in the capture, were told to bring
them in and take them to interrogation.
I had the female tied off by rope and was leading them back in. It was dark before we got back and we were all
very silent, wondering where the rest of their comrades were. I took the NVA's Russian made 45 pistol as a
prize, and Chip took the AK-47. When we
got back to 2/1’s rear area both prisoners were handed over. But, they also relieved Chip and I of our
souvenirs. The next day there was some scuttlebutt going around that the
female officer, had bit her tongue off while we were bringing them in. I don't know how true that was but, I never
heard a sound from her that night.
The interrogators must have got the
information they wanted.
Because, very early in the morning of January 15th,
Hotel and Echo companies with a squad of Arvin’s and Rok’s were
headed out to ‘Camsa 1’. I was a Squad leader at the time, and my 1st
squad leader Corporal Brad, was acting platoon Sergeant.
I never tied the capture of the two
NVA, and our mission we were on together until, this year in 2004.
All I knew we were going to
‘Camsa 1’. We would sweep it for any
VC, who were using it as a haven to run their ambushes and snipers out of
and have been hitting our patrols nearly every day. The 1st part of the morning was somewhat
comical. I felt very safe with so many Marines. There was an Arvin
Squad walking directly behind my squad.
Talking, and lighting cig’s as if we were on an evening stroll. This really didn't bother me that much,
because with our troop strength, any VC in the area would know we were
coming. It would be stupid for them to
engage us at this point. When
we arrived at ‘Camsa’ we were supposed to surround it and link up
with Hotel. But, there was some confusion from who ever had point, and we
must have walked through that ville a couple times. I could hear
the CP, talking on the radios and trying to find the point man from Hotel
Co... I’m thinking if there are any VC in here, they are gone by
now. Our confusion must have really confused the VC.
Because it was breaking daylight when we just
linked up and Brad was setting up our positions. The VC realized that we
had them completely surrounded, and we were not just passing through.
First it seemed there was an entire company of VC trying to breakout down
the line of Echo Marine positions from me.
Everyone, including myself, hit the ground. We couldn't get low
enough. I didn't realize it then, but being on fairly flat and sandy
terrain, and Hotel Company on the other side of ‘Camsa’ the bullets were
making there way clean threw the ville.
Brad was a Natural born Leader, who played
Hockey in High School and had very strong moral roots. He told me once
when I used very foul language around him, “ ya know Dave”, “cussing don't make
you a tougher Marine”. It seemed as
though we were all pinned down hugging the ground, as the fire fight lasted for
hours. Brad was running up and down the lines directing our fire. He gave us that bit of extra courage to
attack those NVA and VC who were dug in and very heavy fortified. His
courage and calmness under a heavy rain of bullets got us all up and rushing
the ville.
Then it happened! Brad went down, while
he was right next to me. Sergeant Harting ran up to me and told me to get
my Squad in the ville now. With the
visual of Brad being shot and falling with bullets zinging everywhere, I had no
time to stop and say good-bye to Brad.
Brad had taught me the most on how to be a Squad Leader. I just
knew, this was the day I was going to die, and I was going to die
fighting. Our squad made it into the
ville, and that's about all I can remember? Except for the MOP-UP!
Throwing grenades in bunkers and pulling the
enemy out by there toes. It was total
carnage in there. There was death and the smell of it everywhere. There were cows just standing there with
bullet holes. And, as I just stepped
over a blown down tree, an old lady with a baby in her arms, ran up to me and
handed me the baby. Before I had a
chance to tell her NO, I was holding a dead baby with half its head gone.
I shoved her baby back at her. And
continued sweeping through the ville.
Just about that same time, a little puppy came running up to us and
someone just blew it away. I totally
lost it! I couldn't understand what that puppy did to deserve that.
That's how I thought about that day for thirty years. Where were my feelings, my reality? We
lost Three Good Men, One my Friend and 1st squad leader, who received the
Silver Star for his Heroic Actions. We even set down near a stack of
bodies to take a break and eat. There was just so much carnage. And, at the very Least, I somehow survived
that hail of bullets whizzing pass my ears.
Yet, what bothered me most, for all these years, was a stupid
little dog.
After reading Dave's stories and how he has
taken care of Brad, and his Memorials. I am OK with that day. It is no longer a (Cartoon, In a Cartoon
Graveyard) and anything I have to face in every day life is just Puppy Chit!