Stories of Charlie Co & 2-12th Inf Regiment

There are so many places, people and events that I have forgotten about from my time in Vietnam. One of the "pleasures" of being the webmaster, has been my opportunity to exchange emails and conversations with new guys that I have never spoken to or met before. Some of these activities have refreshed my memory.

I have had a number of conversations with my wife either recalling or simply carrying on a casual conversation sitting in our family room. After she has stated some fact, I will look at her in a quizical way and her response would be "I don't make this stuff up you know" which is what I have tried NOT to do in my writings.

When the 3rd Brigade, 4th Div. composed of the 2/12th arrived in Dau Tieng along with the 2/22nd in November, 1966, they were given the task of setting up, I believe the more accurate phase should be construct and erect the base camp for the Brigade. I don't know how long this process took. From what I was told by Benson Bell, who was with HHC and the 4.2" Mortar platoon, there was nothing there except for a few buildings that the French had erected years ago; a few two story affairs, a swimming pool which everyone remembers primarily because of the diving tower that jutted about structure being an above ground pool and other miscellanous structures.

Dau Tieng had everything you could want for a base camp when it was completed. In today's terminology, they would call it a forward operating base but to us, it was DT. I can't remember anyone calling it Camp Rainier, named after the mountain in Washington state. In 1966 and into 1967, barracks quarters were built, along with a mess hall, PX, laundry, EM and Officers clubs. The battalion aid station utilized an existing French building to operate out of. Another building housed a barber shop. Ken Blakely told me that he thought one of the barbers who cut our hair was killed later pursuing his other career as a local VC.

For my brief time that I spent in DT, I have no recollection of most of any of these local establishments. Haircuts and laundry service? How about a little time spent down at the EM club. Nothing comes to mind for me. Right after I arrived, within two weeks, I learned the location of the battalion aid station, having to go down there daily to get the dressing changed on my GS wound I received in my first firefight.

I can clearly remember sitting on the wood floors of our barracks hooch upon first arriving as I was assembling my "gear" and getting ready to actually join the company on field operations. I was loading ammo into my magazines and getting my pack frame set up and adjusted after being told I was going to be part of a heavy weapons squad and I would be packing MG ammo. We had cots and even lockers to store our personnal effects. Eddie Wales or someone had a snapshot of me catching some sleep on my cot and behind me, my locker plastered with the lastest pinup from Playboy.

There were the daily sprints down to the 4 holer to deal with the diarehea. I'm sure for all of us adjusting to the water and the country climate found us spending time reading the Tropic Lightning news while sitting on the can. And, if we were lucky, there was the "sanitation duty" of burning our waste using diesel and a long stick, watching that black smoke curl up into the air and trying everything to keep from inhaling the fumes.

I have visions of the berm line and pulling guard duty, and during mortar attacks sprinting down to the perimeter looking for a safe haven. There were the times we were told to 'saddle up' and head down to the airstrip to wait for a lift to take us out into the darkness because one of our brigade units was catching hell and we were the ready reaction force. Sitting there waiting and wondering what might happen and what kind of hell would we be going to see and experience? All the while, thinking about our mortality and wondering if we would survive and be able to return home in one piece.

If I were to write about remembering these places, I would be lying to you because I don't. The early months were a blur and much of it was convienently forgotten. How many times did we walk or were trucked by convoy out of the main gates to DT and then passed by the outer checkpoints? How about crossing the Saigon River bridge on the way to the Ben Cui Rubber plantation which was off to the west of Camp Rainier? I have no vision of that. Canvas roofs and rows upon rows of rubber trees inside of the camp are very vivid. Fire barrels lining the streets and walking past the momasans who worked in the laundry on the way to the PX? That PX that never seemed to have what we needed. But, what was on that list of wants and desires? Again, me being new to the division and trying to get settled in, I was too busy trying to control my emotions and thoughts. Stay focused I told my self and watch how the veterans do it. A lesson that I totaled ignored during our first major hop from DT during Operation Wilderness, one that cost David Schultz his life.

Dau Tieng, sitting in the middle of enemy territory, and the brunt of frequent mortar and rocket attacks. Our safe haven from the battle front when we came in from the field. A shower, shave, haircut and clean clothes along with a hot meal. And, we had cots to sleep on at night. When I left DT with the batalion as we headed to Hoc Mon the first week of July, 1968, little did I know that would be the last time I would sleep on a "bed" and have a roof over me. Little did I realize that when I left in July, I would never return to that small French Quarter of Vietnam known as Camp Rainier.