“Corporal Reeves! Get your gear and follow me” the Gunny said as I hung sleepily onto a dream I was having of cool mountain streams, awaking to Gunny Randall’s course Drill Instructor’s voice out side my squad’s earth bermed hooch at Quang Tri Combat Base. Home of the Third Marine Division, Republic of Viet Nam. I had injured my back falling out of a helicopter into elephant grass on a nameless hill near Khe Sanh. I was not hurting much now so the Gunny had made me the commanding officer’s driver and radioman. I went over to the motor pool with the Gunny. Gunny Randall was a tall thin hillbilly from Tennessee who had joined the corps to escape the poverty of the hill county back in the forties, he had served in the big one WWII and Korea, now he was in “This Azshole of the world” to hear him tell it. He was always cussing, the war, officers, the politicians and scum-sucking civilians. But never his beloved Marine Corps! The Gunny was what we called “Old Corps” or “Lifer”, Gunny was one of the good ones as far as a lifer could be.
We got to the motor pool and the Gunny checked out a jeep. “Get in, You are drivin’ Corporal.” “Let’s go to Dong Ha, the General is a waitin!” I had a cigarette for breakfast as the Gunny talked all the way to Dong Ha, north of Quang Tri up Highway One. Did I forget to say the Gunny was a talker? In his southern drawl and with hill billy slang he would talk to a pile of sandbags if no one was available. Working parties knew if they could get the Gunny to talk they could knock off work and listen, even if they had heard it before. All you had to do was ask the Gunny about one of his faded blue tattoos and then you would hear the yarn behind it. You had to pay attention, if you said something bad about the Corps or laughed at the wrong time the Gunny would have you burning crappers forever. “Corporal Reeves do you lack cats?” The Gunny asked. “No Gunny I hate’um.” I replied wondering where this was going. “Wall me n’ th’ Genral’ Go way back an he ask for me t’do him a favor” stated the Gunny. “We are goin t’ pick up a Tiger an deliver the tiger t’ a frien’ o’ th’ Genral.” The laconic Marine said. It seems a recon team had been surprised by a tiger in their night position. They of course shot at it but it got away after biting one of the team members. The general hired a gook tiger hunter to track the tiger and they shot it. The tiger hunter wanted the tiger carcass delivered to his apothecary shop, that is drug store in downtown Quang Tri. I had been to Quang Tri before; there was an iron bridge over the river built by the French in 1909. We used it during the day; the bad guys used it during the night. Large banana plantations were south of the city that contained a fortress called the citadel built as a replica of the imperial city in China, like the larger more ornate one in Hue to the south on highway one. It had been several months since Tet, but skeletons were in the wire of the wall of the citadel to remind us of the fighting that took place there. We visited the city when we could as the people were friendly, the girls beautiful and our money welcome, only the Army dudes guarding the city did not like Marines and would run us out or cite us for just being there if we had no pass. I day dreamed as we drove north to Dong Ha, rice paddies starched to the hills miles to the west and to the horizon to the east. The Army of the Republic of South Viet Nam had a bunker system they called a base about halfway. Their yellow and red striped flag fluttered in the breeze. They had shot some Viet Cong and had the bodies hung on poles out side their wire. The gunny remarked ”Them damn gooks done shot some gook and looky how brave they are! The #*&* rag of a flag Yaller for what they is and red fer t’ blud they ain’t shed!” Then he cussed a blue streak. “ I will take a Korean any day to watch ma’ back ‘fore I’ll trust one a’ these local slopes!” He finally said. We finally arrived at the large Marine base at Dong Ha, Third Marine Division forward headquarters was here. In range of the big guns the NVA had in the DMZ, the ammo dump had went up one time before and I hoped it would not today.
Everyone lived in bunkers and earth bermed South East Asia Hooches. This was an outpost much like Khe Sanh with out the publicity. Trenches and walls of green sandbags in easy access were everywhere for rockets would come slamming in with out warning. We drove in and went to the commanding generals position. The Gunny was primping, and trying to square away, slapping away the red dust of the drive in the open jeep. A heavy set man about my height strides toward us, snapping a salute he returns ours and grabs the Gunny’s hand and swings him around they greet each other then look towards a large animal hung up on a sign board frame. Meet General Ray Davis, twice Medal of Honor winner from Georgia, Hero of the “Frozen Chosin”, now commanding the Third Division in Northern I Corps. He tells the Gunny and I where to take the Tiger, writes us a pass and with a snap of a salute we don’t have time to return is gone. Note: Thirty five years later I meet the General and he remembers this day with details. I turn and look at our charge, a skinned cat of around 500 pounds. Gutted and skinned it is an obscene animal, teeth bared claws extended it looks menacing. It smells worse, dead two days, bullet holes, flies everywhere. A Staff Sergeant and a few snuffies come over and we load the tiger into the back of the jeep. We drive down to the Staff Non Commissioned Officers Club as per the gunny’s instructions. He says ”Reeves you go to this address and see this man, unload the tiger and then hustle back and pick me up here. If something happens radio me on this freq and give me a Sitrep.” I look at him and then the rotting cat in the jeep. The gunny is going to hang out in the club, eat, drink and talk with his bros while I do the grunt work. Well nobodies shooting at me I think on the brighter side. I drive the cat wagon out of the base, the MPs laugh at me as I leave. I speed south towards Quang Tri at near top speed of the M151 around 50 miles an hour to keep the smell and flies behind me. There is little traffic this day on highway one, a few ARVN trucks and US Army vehicles, gooks on bicycles going to market, a stretch of highway opens into the banana plantation and I am alone on the highway that the French called “The Street without Joy”, but it is a beautiful day and I enjoy driving along. Fields of banana trees line the road. I see no one although a Army trooper was kidnapped on the road a few weeks before, his mutilated body found miles away from his burned vehicle. I cross the iron bridge built by the French in 1909 guarded by ARVN soldiers and remember when the NVA held the city during the last Tet. The NVA do not blow the bridge because they know they will need it when they invade in force later. The South Viet troops guarding the bridge are laying around smoking in the shade, they pay no attention to me or the rest of the traffic on the bridge. One shoots his U.S. made M-16 into the trees to kill a monkey as I pass. I arrive at the US Army military gate into the city. The M.P.s are all polished and self-righteous in their starched utilities and spit shined boots. The soldiers are all laughing at the carcass of the cat in my jeep until they get the smell. The Sergeant of the Guard examines my pass but does not challenge it. He tells me ”Be out by dark jarhead!” They all are glad to see me go when they catch a wiff of the cat. I locate the address of the drug store that Mr. Sang operates on a side street off the main drag. I enter and Mr. Sang greets me. We shake hands and he opens the gates to his courtyard, neighbors gather and they take the stink’in cat out of my jeep and place it in a large pot that is already boiling. I wander around and a very nicely dressed older Vietnamese lady brings me a bowl of rice with shrimp in it. Another woman brings me a cold beer. I set in the shade and watch as they pull the flesh off the tiger as it boils. Later Mr. Sang takes me inside and shows me his guns, an old shotgun made in Belgium that he shot many Tigers with he tells me. We share a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label Scotch he pulls out from a intricately carved cabinet. We sip the whiskey and try to talk about hunting and other stuff, he has limited English and I only know enough Viet to get in trouble. He goes out several times to retrieve parts of the tiger that he shows me very proudly. The teeth, claws, and balls of the cat are especially exciting to the old man. He explains that these are powerful medicines that he will sell. When he is done there is nothing left of the cat. The drug store is a combination witch doctors cave and magic store. Dusty bottles of various things, shelves of pill bottles with Chinese writing, crates of medicines cover the floor, the writing is all foreign. I wonder what he sells to whom, and then I realize I am too messed up to drive back. I stumble over to the jeep and try to raise the gunny on the radio; I get an operator that will relay my message to him. I tell the operator I won’t be back today. I ask Mr. Sang where I can stay and he shows me a wooden bed. I decline, for I realize it is his family’s bed he is offering. I leave asking what time I can get my jeep and I walkoff into the evening air of the city. I buy a plate of rice and some kind of vegetables from a street vendor; a cold tiger 33 beer and life is good. I find a bar that has rooms to rent and take one for the night. The gunny would understand no one would travel the road at night with out good reason and a Sherman tank or two for escort. I look out onto the street below after a wash down of tepid water in the “shower” of my room. The hotel was built by the French in the 20’s and has not looked good since the 50’s when the French were beaten and kicked out of the country. The cracked stucco of the walls and broken glass of the windows are not nice but way more style than the sand bags walls of the hooch I share back at the base. I have a door I can try to lock, a sink, set down toilet that seems to work after a fashion, and cold water shower that has only a pipe coming out of the wall.
I set on the tiny porch overlooking the main drag to catch the evening breeze, smoke and drink a cool, not cold tiger “33” beer. My 16 is across my lap as beautiful girls in ah daios walk along the street. This city does have sidewalks, paved streets, stores and a market place, lots of concrete and stone buildings built by the French. I could have been beautiful.
Sonny Reeves
Too darn long ! Lost interest about halfway, and never finished. Sorry. Harry 1371
Harry, I read it and then skipped through it, all kind of a waste of time. I was at Quang Tri from Jan to Aug 68. Never says what out fit other than 3rd Div. Did you have trouble getting the web site a few days back ? I did, I thought maybe they shut it down. Murray 1371
Yes,it must have been shut down for awhile ,I guess. Harry 1371
I read the damn thing twice! So much wrong with it. Just a few. 1 The General “ Earned” One Medal of Honor not two, He “Earned” One Navy Cross and several other awards. “Sherman Tanks” what friken war were you in? The incident with the 3rd recon team was Dec 22 , 68 one man was bitten and the recon team were the ones that killed it. 3 weeks prior a Marine was killed in the same area by a tiger,maybe the same one, and the CG sent out 2 civilian hunters to find and kill it but,they failed… I swore I was going to keep silent and no longer post this kind of comment but some of these stories just reek of crap! I could go on and on….
I agree with you Bill. If Tom Shaneline was still alive and read this story, he would have had a hard time with it. He was one of the marines sitting in that harbor site when the tiger struck.
Hank Gross, India Company, 3/9 1968-69
http://www.3rdrecon.org/tiger.htm
Hank Gross, India Company, 3/9 1968-69
Post Script Thomas Shainline was misspelled above.
I wholeheartedly agree with you Bill. I am amazed at all these “stories.“
I spent time at Dong Ha before hitting the Bush (Lima 3/4) and then a week at Quang Tri before rotating back to the world. Semper Fi Jarhead.
My husband James (Jim) A. Cantrell was in 3/4 Lima up there in Quang Tri in ’68. He was wounded and almost lost his right hand when the trigger wire on a LAW broke and the rocket inside went off and destroyed his hand. His captain ordered him to destroy a truck. However he never received a purple heart or anything. He spent a year and a half in the hospital and endured 13 operations on his hand. I was always proud of his and everyone’s sacrifice over there.
Bill, he must have been referring to the M551 Sheridan Tank.
You could be right Mark, even though it was used by the Army. Don’t see it anywhere being used by Marines in Vietnam. Bill
Thought maybe I was banned from commenting. Harry 1371
Harry, That’s exactly what I thought, ya know there are couple guys that think I run people down and ridicule them, they jump all over my posts, but they must not read my post that close, I always look at both sides and make statements, it is up to the person reading them to decide which way they want to think about it. I like to think my comments are helpful. I hate misinformation. Murray 1371
I agree Murray and I enjoy researching some of the statements in the stories. I have every volume of the Chronicles of Marines in Vietnam 1962-1975 and can search all of the units monthly reports and after action reports on the Texas Tech website,lots of fun, as well as the Marine Corps Museum. If someone wants to write fiction add a disclaimer to the story,but don’t try to pass it on as true. Just my opinion. What do you think? Wonder what Bill thinks? Harry 1371
I agree Murray, the disinformation bugs the crap out of me, if it pisses others off too bad! Harry I also use the Texas Tech Vietnam Archives,I found out about it when I was filling a disability claim about 10 years ago and needed some additional info. Bill 0331 2/1 67-69
Bill and Harry, The Texas Tech archives is not a sources to get accurate information. The reports were written by fellow Marines, some of whom, could have cared less what they were writing. Many important details were left out-how many kills, names of Kia’s and wounded, what happened on any given day, etc. You can’t use their information to prove or disprove what really happened in most things.
Excellent story, with compelling details. Sure could use a good editor, though.
It was a very nice fairy tale. Nothing makes sense. If this marine went to sleep in this area of Vietnam, He would never wake up and his jeep would be long gone. Semper Fi Vietnam Vet 1967/1968 on Monkey Mountain
I was with Kilo 3/9 spent some time on monkey mt.
You are absolutely correct. I served with the 3/4 from 5/66 to 7/68. I was at Quang Tri. This guy is delusional.
JohnT
I traveled the “Street Without Joy” several times from Dong Ha to Quang Tri and back, while serving with the 1st Amphibian Tractor Bn. at Cua Viet. We would get to Dong Ha by loading onto an LCM (we called them “Mike boats) at Cua Viet and heading west on the Cua Viet River. We had small outposts along the river at My Loc and My Xa Thi at one time or another. It was along that river that the battle of Dai Do took place in ‘68; anyone who served in the 4th Marines or 1st ‘Tracs knows about that one.
Thanks for the memories.
Anyone know or remember Ferg (Fergie ) Carroll . Kia 6/18/68 “k” co 3/4/3 Quang tri province.
I have a feeling that this is one of those stories that someone heard one time and tried to re-tell it and embellished the hell out of it! Nick
Loved the story about my old stomping grounds. I rotated back to CONUS in May 1968 and have often thought of our activities back then. I had a friend go back and tour Viet Nam a few years ago and he was saying how modern and built up Dong Ha and Quang Tri are today. While it might be fun to go back, I guess I’d just as soon lay on a beach in the Caribbean and soak up the sun and suds!
Regarding the 1/29/21 entry of “Tiger Tale Quang Tri 68”:
I was with Lima 3/3 at the Rockpile and Ca Lu during the time of the Tiger attack. The attack actually occurred in 1967. Cpl. Dave Schwirian, (now known as “Tiger Dave”), was the Marine attacked and Colonel, (then Captain), John Ripley was our Skipper. Ripley went on to become infamous later in the war at the Bridge at Dong Ha. Look him up, he was a true patriot, and one hell of a Marine and leader! There is also a monument to him and his grunts of 1967 on the grounds of the Marine Corps Museum in Quantico.
We were all proud to have served under him!
Sometime after he earned the rank of Major, Ripley penned the complete story in all it’s detail, as well as the situation before and after the attack. It’s very long, but extremely comprehensive, so I’ll not include the full text here, just a small excerpt and then you can copy and paste the link below to see it all in it’s entirety for yourself. You won’t find a more accurate and comprehensive first hand recounting of the entire situation as you will in Ripley’s story in the link I’ll give you below.
Excerpt: . . .
“WHAT THE F–k WAS THAT? The ambush froze. Often when its raining the noise intensifies. It’s easy to suspect movement when in fact there is none. But this time was real- every man new it. Allow guttural growl-could that be possible!- and definite movement.
Cpl. Schwirian’s jaws tightened and his nostrils flared. His heart raced so that he could actually feel it against the ground. Slowly, pulling his knees up under him he moved his body into a slow crouch. His right hand grasped his weapon, still on the ground. Shifting his weight to his left leg he prepared to bring his weapon into a firing position.
The source of the growl made a sudden leap!
God in heaven!
No one was fast enough to fire. Whatever it was it had Schwirian screaming. The machine gunner jerked his gun around trying to bring it to bear but this thing and Schwirian were locked together in a desperate blur.
It’s a Tiger!
The big cat had pounced out of the darkness and grasped Schwirian in its jaws. One paw was standing on the Marine’s hand which held his weapon, pinning both to the ground. The other paw was on Schwirian’s left shoulder, forcing him backwards and more erect, while the beast chewed on his right arm and shoulder literally tearing off great chunks of flesh.
In what had to be the luckiest punch of any fight; certainly in this brutal fight for his life, the terrified young Marine threw a left cross into the muzzle of the tiger with his free hand. The blow hurt enough to cause the animal to release its grip.
Cpl. Schwirian fell at that spot while the tiger lurched backward momentarily. It was the instant the squad needed; the Marines simultaneously opened fire.
The beast recoiled then simply disappeared.
The entire drama had taken seconds. The indescribable terror experienced by the squad left them shocked and drained. Their squad leader lay moaning and kicking where he had been dropped” . . .
Link to copy and paste into your browser:
http://www.3rdmarines.net/Vietnam_tiger_bite_tale.htm
Cpl. C.G. (Duf) Hudson
Lima 3/3
RVN Feb. ’67 – Mar. ’68
Perhaps this is why we call them ‘Sea Stories’ and just consider them precursors to today’s media “news” coverage. The only thing missing was “I had an MOS so secret that it doesn’t show in my Service Record and all my assignments with Recon / CIA and Black Ops deny I was ever there …”
Nice to read that these BS stories are being called out as BS. I find myself calling BS after a few sentences every time. Thanks for squaring away the BS on this site. Semper Fi, Capt. Kerins Mustang Officer No 762 USMC Mustang Association.
Post Script:
After checking out the link posted by “Hank Gross, India Company, 3/9 1968-69” above, It appears there were at least two confirmed tiger attacks, (maybe more???).
Cpl. C.G. (Duf) Hudson
Lima 3/3
RVN Feb. ’67 – Mar. ’68
This is to Mike Wilson. Though there are a lot of personal accounts on the site written by Vietnam Vets, the Marine Corps section has the actual typed and signed monthly Battalion reports of all activity of the unit, actions ,supply ,transportation and casualties (WIA and KIA) captured weapons etc.. You,re wrong!
This is just an example of what you will find.
1st Armored Amphibian Company, 11th Marines,1st Marine Division (Rein) FMF, FPO, Sanfrancisco 96602. From: Commanding Officer. To: Commanding Officer 11th Marines. Subject: Command Chronology. (1) The Command Chronology is submitted in compliance with reference. (A) For the period 23-Nov.-1966 to 30-Nov- 1966 D.L. Howorth Major USMC. Commanding. This just the intro of the fist report of your unit, it continues… Bill 0331 E- 2/1
I knew Major Howarth……Armored Amphibians moved into 1st Tank Bn cantonment..he and our XO had been Ltd together in Korea……they butted heads over the rather limited supply of Coca Cola in the officers mess…Howarth liked plain Coke, our XO liked rum and Coke’s…..as the 2nd Lt Club O, I was caught in the middle….
I recall some of the Amphib officers… Lt Gooch, and your company MTO..this was late 1966 and early 1967
Dick, 1st. Gosch was awarded the Silver Star for action he took while getting mortared and rocketed, 21 Feb,68 at the mouth of the CauViet river. This was right be he was K.I.A on on March 1st., 68.
Bill, I went over to the Nam with 1st. Armored. We left Delmar and waded out to an L.S.T 525 Caroline County. When we got to the Nam after 48days, we were broken up into three platoons. One was S. of Danang, one was in Danang, and one went up to the mouth of the Cau viet river. I served in all three platoons. I have read all the Texas Tech material. There are many mistakes made in their reports, and just because they were signed and typed doesn’t make them complete or true. I knew Major Howarth and I’m sure he didn’t know everything that went on, even though he signed the report. We got hit by a large group of N.V.A. regulars -we kicked their ass with beehives, H.E. and good old Marine rifle fire-at Cau Viet and got mortared a lot-hardly any mention of these things. So as you can see, I don’t need some Ass like you telling me how accurate the reports Texas Tech have are. I lived it, not you. I doubt there is one outfit in the Nam whose reports are totally accurate. After I left 1st. Armored, in May 67, I was with 3Rd. 155 guns at Hoi An. I was one of the opt chiefs and in June 67, on my watch, we had a firing mission on 800 N.V.A. who were unloading boats S. of us. They spotted our F.O. team who were calling in the mission, and as the N.V.A. assaulted the F.O. Team, the F.O. team keep dropping our fire closer to them until we were firing within 50 meters of them. Then they said drop 50. I got the radio and told them ,if we dropped 50 it would kill them all. Their reply was drop 50, we don’t want to be captured. I let the mission be sent down {we were firing 155 guns and 8″} .It killed them all. The mission could not be sent down until I released it. This was the hardest mission I fired. I bet you will not find this in any Texas Tech report anywhere in the June 67 reports. This was covered up or only the men in the tent with me knew what happened. By the way Bill this was my second tour in the Nam. I went down from the “Rock” with Hdq. Battery 4/12 my first time. So Bill get your head out of your Ass, before you tell a fellow Marine they are wrong. Like I said I lived it. I was in the Nam until 5 days before I got out after my four years. Semper Fi-God Bless
Mike, I have a couple of questions. How many guys are in the F.O. Team. Did you go get the bodies? How do you know the artillery killed them? 800 NVA that’s a lot in one place not to report. I am not sure where Hoi An was, I never heard of it. Was it North, South or Central. You should not get so up set with Bill he is just stating how stories sound to him, and that’s what we all do. I have notice mistakes in those reports from Texas Tech but still think they are pretty good source. Murray 1371 Vietnam Dec 66 to Aug 68 back May 69 to Aug 69 went with 1/9, 2/9, 3/9, 2/26 and others many operations.
Hey Murray, Hoi-An would not be in your area of operation it was located south of Danang and part of my area of operation towards the end of my TOD. We called the area between Danang and Hoi-An “ Dodge City”. Bill 0331
I hear you Lima Alpha Charley, you make a good point. Sorry. Bill 0331 E – 2/1 67-69
Both Cpl. Reeves and Sgt. Lariviere mentioned the “Street Without Joy”. For those who understand the term, but not the origin, I would encourage you to visit your local library and pick up a copy of this eye-opening book by Bernard Fall, so named by the French because so many soldiers lost their lives on this highway, right up to the debacle at Dien Bien Phu in ’54 (although the street without joy was not anywhere close to Dien Bien Phu).
This morass didn’t begin for us in March of ’65. It started with the French withdrawal from Indochina in ’54. Some would argue it started even before that as we were providing arms to the French in Indochina from the end of WWII.
There must have been more than one tiger attack . I think the first one posted is a lot of bull shit. I was with 3D Recon 68-69. There definitely was a tiger attack during my tour, but tiger was killed by team attacked and it ended up hanging on cross bar at 3D Recon Bn rear at Quang Tri combat base.
Regardless of the accuracy of the story, I found it very entertaining. Not familiar with Dong Ha but flew into Quang Tri from DaNang and Phu Bi several times. Semper Fi
It was a good story , but that’s it, Don’t try to pass it on as true! That’s the problem I have . Write your story made up fiction or fact , but don’t try to lead us to believe it’s true. Bill 0331
Before calling somebody out, keep in mind that we all are a little older and very few have total recall. Also, I read today that some medical researchers are now contributing dementia to Agent Orange. Think about it, anybody out there been subjected to it?
The word LACONIC means to use few words. The Gunny was just the opposite. Verbose would be the word to use to describe him.
Good story from the person who lived it unlike the arm chair experts who did not and criticized it.
I was going to stay out of this but, that was my area early on in my tour and one thing that gave me pause was this guy running around by himself, I don’t know how it was for anybody else but I wouldn’t do it and I don’t think that the Gunny would let him go alone, at least I hope not. Just an opinion not a judgement! Nick
I agree with the statement about the story being kind of long. Also agree with our memories (at least mine) not being so great after all these years. I needed information sent to me by the Marine Corps when I was trying to receive compensation for agent orange after getting non-hodgkins lymphoma. I got more specific information from Texas Tech archives then from the Marine Corps. Looked like a big part of my time with 3rd Marine Division was missing. Talked to a lady about it and she just dodged my questions. At least I know what I did and that is enough. Proud to have served with both Third Marine and 1st Marine Division and an Arty unit. 1/13 up in I-Corps, 1969-70. Welcome home to all my brothers and Semper Fi!
A few of you mentioned “Street Without Joy” by Bernard Fall.
I arrived in Vietnam on December 11, 1966 and a few days later we (3/26 and Charlie Battery 1/13) started Operation Chinook. Later known as Camp Evans after Paul Evans (21) who was the first Marine killed on that operation. In the book I wrote, “To Hear Silence” I mention Bernard Fall this way;
At 1640H on February 21, while under enemy fire, the 2nd platoon from A/1/9 detonated an antipersonnel (AP) mine beside a dirt road killing Cpl. Harold Gomez (20), Walter Weiss (20) and wounding L/Cpl Glenn Harris (18).
Two correspondents with the marines then rush up the center of the road tripping a second mine. They are GySgt Byron Highland (Combat Photographer) and Bernard Fall (War Correspondent and Historian).
This second explosion amputates Fall’s legs, killing him instantly. Highland is killed at the same time. L/Cpl Glenn Harris who was wounded in the first blast is also killed from the second one.
Back in 1961 Bernard Fall wrote a highly respected book entitled, “Street Without Joy”. After a major operation in 1953 the French Far East Expeditionary Corps dubbed an area only 4km from where Fall died, as ‘la rue sans joie, the Street Without Joy.
Sonny, I was in country at the same time. As a matter of fact I was at vandergrieft fire base with 1/4. I was a radio operator and made that trip dozens of times. I think I once received some of your mail. Funny that we never met. I too was a cpl.