A War Story

For me, personally, the Tet Offensive began in the wee hours of the Tet New Year
(1 Feb.) with the sound of nearby small arms fire. After the first bursts, the
firing continued off and on well into the new day. A sign was posted on the gate
of our quarters to stay off the streets. I decided to try to make my way to the
SOG compound where I might be of some use. When I stepped out through the gate
it was positively eerie: the normally busy street was completely deserted; and
in the background bursts of gunfire could be heard in every direction.

As I carefully made my way along the street, a jeep roared up and two MP's asked
me where I was headed. They then suggested it would be safer to ride with them.
Our route took us past the side gate of the Palace where several bodies in
civilian clothes lay sprawled in the street. The MP's pointed out the armbands
which identified them as VC (worn so they wouldn't shoot each other). These
particular troops had been hiding in a building under construction across from
the gate -- a building they had slipped into the day before and past which I
obliviously strolled the previous evening.

As we pulled up to the SOG compound, a jeep full of American civilians screeched
to a halt in front of us. They were from the American Embassy and were looking
for ammunition. The VC had breached the Embassy wall and were on the grounds of
the compound. The sounds of a pitched battle could be heard from that direction.
Eventually, Marine security guards would kill all the attackers before they
could enter the building.

As the day wore on, the extent of the offensive became clear. VC and NVA
regulars had attacked almost every major city and allied military installation
in South Vietnam. As darkness fell on that first day, the enemy troops around
and in Saigon began to make their way through the city streets, taking cover in
areas where it was almost impossible to bring fire to bear without endangering
the civilian population

As darkness fell on Saigon the night of February 1, 1968,. allied forces were
confronted with a very difficult situation -- how to dislodge the enemy from the
city while avoiding civilian casualties. After the previous night's surprise
offensive, VC and NVA regulars had hunkered down in various parts of the city
waiting for cover of darkness to press their attacks. In spite of huge losses,
units continued to infiltrate the city from staging areas in the countryside.

At the SOG compound we received a steady stream of reports of enemy movements
along the city streets and through the outlying areas of downtown Saigon. The
ubiquitous parachute flares were only a slight comfort. An alert of imminent
attack on the SOG compound came from a helicopter hovering in the vicinity -- a
squad-sized VC unit had been spotted making its way in our direction.

My office space was on the ground level in the old MACV I communications center,
somewhat isolated from the SOG main building because of the highly classified
material and crypto devices required for special communications I operated in
support of SOG operations. One of my highest priorities was to ensure that none
of this material fell into enemy hands, even if I had to destroy it. Armed with
two thermite grenades and my trusty Swedish-K 9mm submachine gun, I took up a
position in the office doorway, prepared to toss the grenades into the
classified equipment and document area if the SOG compound were breached. I
recall thinking how vulnerable I felt facing the paved courtyard of the MACV I
compound -- a mortar or grenade on that surface would spray lethal shrapnel in
all directions.

Location reports on the advancing squad of VC stopped coming over the radio and
we began to wonder if it was a false alarm. Suddenly, the distinctive "whump" of
an outgoing small caliber mortar round made us aware that the phantom VC squad
had set up a mortar position across Rue Pasteur in the backyard of a civilian
home directly across from our front gate.

Fortunately for us, the mortars were being fired parallel to Pasteur toward the
river, directed at the Rex and Brinks hotels where senior U.S. and allied
officers were billeted. One of the SOG troops made his way to the top of our
building to get a better angle on the mortar crew and began firing tracers to
mark their position for a gunship strike. Once their position was compromised,
the squad faded into the night. Over the next several days, pockets of
resistence were isolated and destroyed. I recall the surreal situation of
barbequeing steaks on the roof of the Rex Hotel while watching the daylight
airstrikes on VC positions out by the racetrack and around Cho Lon.

I had heard that Cho Lon took a pretty bad beating during the offensive, so one
day, after things had returned to their pre-Tet normality, I drove back to the
old "hood." What a disaster area! Block after block had been turned into rubble.
It looked like a scene out of WWII or the Watts riots -- a few building facades
remained standing, but mostly there were piles of debris. This was the last area
cleared of the enemy, at great cost to the businesses and homes of the civilian
population. The thriving pre-Tet Chinese community had virtually disappeared.