I publish this story of my personal account and vivid memories of being in those cold wet rice paddies during OPERATION Harvest Moon, which lasted from December 10-20, 1965 every year at this time to tell the story for those who did not return to tell theirs. This tells the story of what happened 57 years ago. That's a long time ago I know, but we must never forget.
It was our first big major operation. The photo above depicts those rice paddies where we laid for over 10 hours while under constant enemy fire. As I said, it was cold, wet, and muddy not only for me and my infantry squad part of 1st Platoon, Fox Company, 2nd Battalion, 1st Marines, but for everyone else involved during that operation.
For such a long time that day (December 10th) no one could support us or even get to us — we were unable to move and withdrew to higher dry ground for over 10 hours while under heavy rifle, machine gun, and mortar fire from Hill 407 that was to our direct front high ground.
The day started early as most combat operations do – at about 5 or
6 am. We were to land by helicopters flying off the USS Valley
Forge (LPH-8). Little did we know at the time that we would face a
vastly superior North Vietnamese and VC force, who on the high ground would shoot at us like fish in the proverbial barrel as we landed and afterwards for hours as we lay pinned down in the rice paddies.
At the end of that horrible, bloody day, we had suffered 20 dead and about 80 wounded across all units involved.
I lost two Marines in my 14-man squad that day: LCpl. Barry Sitler (Compton, CA) who was killed in action soon after we landed while protecting our rear, and PFC Bill Stocker (from Boulder, CO) who was badly wounded.
I also lost my Platoon
Commander who was badly wounded, 1st Lt. Charlie George, and our Platoon Guide, and very good friend of mine, Sgt. Bob Hickman (Wheeling, WV) who was killed
in action.
More details on this operation can be found at these several places:
1. From my book Last Ride Home now available from Amazon kindle.
2. From links where firsthand accounts are.
3. From the Marine Corps magazine Leatherneck here.
4. From Ohio State University (eHistory) (our unit's story starts on page 106 at that site).
Remembering one key event: It happened on the second day of Operation on December 11, 1965 as we were humping up Hill 407 where we had received so much fire from the day before. As we passed through some heavy shrubs, my mind drifted back to my youthful days and concord grape vines I used to try to pick from my grandmother’s back yard (before she caught and chased me away).
Suddenly, my daydreaming was broken when someone yelled,
“Grenade!” Everyone started diving off the trail and ducking for whatever cover
they could find, or just stopping and dropping on the ground. Then all of a
sudden right in front of me rolling straight down the trail towards my feet was
a hand-grenade. In a split second as they say, my whole life flashed before my
eyes yet my first thought was to also duck and seek cover or try to run away as fast
as possible, but that was not an option at the moment.
I remember thinking: “Was it was a VC hand-grenade, or a booby trap.” I didn't know for certain and I had no time to find out. I needed to act fast. In an instant that all went through my mind and nothing seemed to matter so without a single thought clearly in my head, or any thought at all I guess, I reached down and grabbed the grenade and turned to throw it as far away and as quickly as possible.
Then at that precise moment I saw that it was one of our hand grenades, but, it had no firing mechanism in place. It was missing, but the grenade was still intact. In reality, there was no way it could have ever exploded without the firing pin. What the hell was going on I thought?
As it turned out, it had fallen off some Marine’s cartridge belt who was up ahead of us in the column. In those early days of the war safety was paramount and we carried them carefully for quick access (in fact sometimes we were told to tape 'em shut for safety).
So, as it happened that one came unscrewed from the Marine's best, dropped to the ground, and rolled down hill to my feet. The missing firing mechanism and pin obviously were still hanging from his belt and he didn’t even know it had fallen off.
Everyone around me had a good laugh when they saw what was really happening. There I stood holding a “dud.” I must have looked silly standing there with a grenade in my hand ready to throw it, and with a shitty look on my face, not even knowing it would never explode. That was a first for me and I hoped it would be the last.
That day someone broke the rules because the one I picked up had no tape on it
and thus a Marine, someone I never knew who, had disregarded the
rules and that could have cost me and a few others dearly had it gone
off.
That moment in time passed along with the short-lived danger. We moved up the hill hunting and pursuing the enemy. Once again, I thought how lucky I was, but in a very odd way. Lady luck was right there beside me, but I wondered, for how long she’d stick around?
All in all, I wanted to share that memory and the rest of the story as I do every December for the sole purpose of remembering those we lost who can never come home and tell their stories. So, I tell the story for them. It is my honor and duty and pleasure to present the story and remind everyone to never forget them. I never will.
Note: Our Fox company commander at the time was Captain Jim Page was shot through chest and marked as KIA. Later that night after we had managed to pull back to safe ground, our Navy Corpsmen were retagging our dead since the rain has washed a lot of information off their body tags. One Corpsman retagging Captain Page screamed and leaped back yelling: “He's alive, he’s alive.”
In fact, he was alive. He had been declared dead for over 10 hours. Talk about a miracle … He would go on to serve and retire as a Marine Lt. Col. (he is pictured below in the back row with red, white, and blue tie - I am seated front row right side).
He lived in retirement in Florida until he passed away in June 2020 (age 91).
My unit (Fox Company) losses that first day (all on December 10, 1965 except as one noted below):
1. PFC Robert L. Craft, Salt Lake City, UT, age: 18
2. PFC Mike Crannan, Canoga Park, CA, age: 18
3. PFC Ron Cummings, Stockton, CA, age: 18
4. SGT Bob Hickman, Wheeling, WV, age: 36
5. PFC Joe Moreno, Austin, TX, age: 18
6. CPL Les Puzyrewski, Chicago, IL, age: 19
7. LCpl Barry J. Sitler, Compton, CA, age: 20
8. Cpl Lloyd Vannatter, Ettrick, VA, age: 25
9. Cpl Jim Brock, Cleveland, OH, age: 23
10. LCpl Acie Hall, Lake City, TN, age: 22
11. PFC John Wilson, St. Paul, MN, age: 21
12. PFC Larry Tennill, Slater, MO, age: 18
13. LCpl Dennis Manning, St. Clair Shores, MI, age: 19 (shot and died the following day on December 11).
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