Camp Rainier
Our base camp, Camp Rainier, is located in the Tri Tam area of South Vietnam at the village of Dau Tieng. The base camp is better known as just Dau Tieng (Dow-Ti- Ang.
The base camp had quite a few comforts that the field didn’t offer. Tents provided us a dry place to sleep during the rainy season. A portion of trees from the Michelin Rubber Plantation gave us shade from the hot sun. We had a mess hall right in the company area and another mess hall down the path in 3rd brigade Headquarters. The PX or Post Exchange was down across the road from our company area. It was like walking into your favorite neighborhood department store, food mart, electronics store, camera shop, jewelers and mail order store, all in one. A place that will make you homesick while you’re picking up some commodities such as shampoo, toothpaste, soap, snacks, cameras, film, stationary, jewelry and watches and other non-Government Issue items. The camp also had a snack bar, the first and only one in war zone “C”, where you could get a burger, hot dog, fries and a cold drink or a milk shake that had the viscosity of napalm (flammable solvent gel). If those drinks weren’t your cup of tea, you could go to the club for a beer. If you needed to cool off, you could take a dip in the pool; a rather large above ground pool that looked completely out of place—like a large white houseboat.
Base camp Security
The perimeter of the base camp, except for a few gates or checkpoints, was bordered by continuous fencing and a few hoops of barbwire called concertina wire. In our area of the perimeter, on the other side of the wire was a road, and on the inside of the wire, was a clear swathe of land, about 50 meters wide. It was kept clear of any foliage and considered a “no mans land”. It provided an unobstructed view and field of fire that extended from the front of the bunkers to the wire and beyond. Unfortunately this view worked both ways.
Map 2. Section of original mission map
The bunkers, externally fortified with sandbags, were the defense positions of the camp. These structures were strategically positioned and spaced around the perimeter on the inside edge of this clearing, creating what was known as the bunker line. Between each bunker was a dike or low wall of earth or sand bags called a berm. This berm gave some additional defense positions and protective cover to the soldiers outside the bunker. In one part of the perimeter I was shocked to see that this particular section didn’t have this clear track of land. The bunkers were right up close to the wire and directly on the other side of the wire was a narrow road, just a few meters wide. On the other side of the road was the village—making this part of bunker line, just a hand grenade toss away.
The troops or “base camp warriors” that remained inside the wire took turns on this watch called “bunker guard” day and night. If you were in base camp for any length of time, there was a good chance you’d have to pull some duty protecting the camp while the rest of the guys were “humpin” somewhere in the field or lucky enough to be partying or sleeping somewhere in the camp.
The interior of the bunkers in our area were equipped with numerous weapons, such as a .50 caliber machine gun, 90 mm recoilless rifle, parachute flares, M-79 grenade launcher, fragmentation grenades, and what ever else the person that was on watch had. Each bunker had communication capability with HQ (Headquarters). If you saw any suspicious activity—and I assume it excluded fire engagement during a full-scale attack—you were suppose to call headquarters before taking any action.
Most of the civilians were smart enough to stay away from the wire until early daylight, adhering to the after dark curfew. However, one of the few times I pulled base camp bunker guard, early in my tour, I saw someone coming down the road at about 0300 hours, transporting some cargo on the rear of a bicycle. When the bike got adjacent to bunker number 10, the bike stopped, the person got off and began to do something in the road, on the far side of the bike. After I observed a minute, I called HQ on the horn, (phone) and reported this unidentified activity.
The voice on the horn asked me, “What’s he doing? I reported, “I’m not sure? He’s out there on the road in front of my bunker. I can’t really make out what he’s doing—it’s pretty dark out there. After a slight pause he said, “ Pop a flare and see what he’s doing, and call me back with a Sit. Rep.” (situation report).
I said, “Roger that”, and hung up.
I grabbed an illumination flare, sometimes called a slap flare, and removed the top cap, which contained the firing pin, and put the cap on the bottom of the tube and went outside the bunker. Holding the tube with my left hand and the top pointed skyward, I hit the bottom-firing cap with my right palm and WHOOSH—the flare was heading skyward. Two seconds or so later—Pop! The chute was open; the flare was lit and I ran back inside the bunker. I was looking out the bunker port as the flare was coming down and I got HQ on the “horn” again. He finally answered.
“He’s still there on the road. I think it’s a papa-san (adult male Vietnamese) and he’s on the other side of a bicycle and it looked like he was up and then dropped back down again.”
“What’s he doing now?”
I said, ”I don’t know, but the last time I saw him, it looked like he was squatting on the road.”
“Can’t you see him anymore?”
“Negative… the flare went out—but the bike is still there.”
Well, the guy on the phone said unless I was getting attacked, I only had permission to shoot hand parachute flares. “Just illuminate the area, and continue to observe and keep us posted.”…
”Roger that”,… and he hung up!
So, with HQ’s permission, I popped few more flares and continued to watch this guy move up and down behind his bike. I couldn’t believe he stayed right there. After firing a few of these hand flares, I had a brainstorm.
I was wondering if a hand parachute flare could be fired from of a cocked M-79 grenade launcher? Jeez…I didn’t know if it would even fit in the barrel, but I was going to give it a shot, so to speak.
I grabbed a 79 and remember how excited I felt as I carefully inserted the flare into the barrel. It fit perfectly! The next question was—would it fire? I didn’t know, but was about to find that out too.
I went back outside to test fire my newly discovered M-79 flare shooter, and as I pointed it up in the air, and just before I pulled the trigger, I had another brainstorm. I was thinking if this works, maybe I could aim it too. So, I brought the barrel down slowly, keeping it slightly elevated so the flare tube wouldn’t slide out of the bore, and I aimed it over the perimeter wire. I braced myself and pulled the trigger. Click… Nothing but silence… I thought maybe I had a hang fire, so I waited a few seconds—and nothing! I re-cocked it and put the flare back into the barrel as far to the rear as I could, and tried it again—click!
Now, you’d think I’d be able to remember if my test fire of the M-79 flare shooter worked or not, but no pun intended, I’m drawing a blank! I can’t remember if the firing pin from that M-79 ever hit the primer of that flare or not. Maybe I fired it by hand? All I remember is hearing and seeing the flare heading horizontally across “no man’s land” towards the wire and the bicycle. God that thing was noisy! The flight path was a little wobbly at first, but sure was impressive from my end. The guy on the road must have been impressed too. After the flare stopped burning and spinning near his bicycle, I popped another flare into the air to illuminate the area— Whooosh…..pop, and once again, ran back into the bunker. I looked out the bunker port—the guy was gone, the bike was gone— and just about then, Buuuurrriiring— the phone rang, and scared the crap out of me.
Uh-oh! …I thought I was in trouble…
I picked up the horn and said, ummm …“Bunker Ten! Go ahead!”
The guy asked, “ How’s it going down there—Everything okay?
“Ummm…Affirmative! Everything’s okay—Uhhh—He’s gone now!—The guy di-di mau’ed” (Vietnamese for left in a hurry—Dee-Dee-Maued)!
The voice said, “Okay, just stay alert, if you see any more activity let me know immediately.”
“Wil-co, no problem”, and we hung up.
Whew!
Other than trying to find a new type of ammunition for the M-79, I don’t know if there is a significant ending to this incident on bunker guard that night, but I did learn that it was better to know where your target is, than to know where he isn’t. After I scared him off, [and I must assume I did] I spent the rest of my watch, wondering what the guy had been doing, what he was doing now, and where he was doing it? Oh, one more thing. When daylight came, I saw the parachute from the flare, hanging on the perimeter wire.
I never got to see all of base Camp Rainier but from what I did see, being located in a portion of the Michelin Rubber Plantation, it sure was more picturesque than all of the base camps I saw. I’m not exactly sure of its land size, or its exact perimeter edge on a map, but a heck of a lot smaller than Cu Chi. Still, it had every support element needed, including a 2,500-foot airstrip, for Camp Rainier to be a major staging area for War zone “C” and other areas of the III Corps Tactical Zone.