1. Cavalry Charge
They were all lined up long-ways
Like horses in days of old
Facing an inconsequential border fence
Separating Vietnam from Cambodia.
There were M-48 Tanks
Armored Personnel Carriers
Jeeps with .50 Cal. machine guns
Engines revving up,
Belching smoke and noise ...
As Tank gunners loaded their guns
With cannon rounds.
The Major in command got out his .45
Then fired three shots into the air
He waved them "Forward"
Rolling over that lousy fence, the "official" invasion
Going after the North Vietnamese.
by Contributing Poet Ray Whitaker Copyright © 2015
VWP 2015 First published in ACKNOWLEDGEMENT: Poems From The 'Nam 2015
2. First Wave into the Ashau
We had our
Collective asses kicked
There before in 1966,
there in the Ashau Valley
Two years and one month before today
The Special Forces
Were nearly over-run there at this very place.
We went back in with a vengeance Operation Delaware
A combat air assault in March of '68
Two-pronged
At either end of the valley.
The pre-flight briefing at Can Ranh was
Comprehensive and detailed.
Our job was "construction"
All three wings of our F-4Cs
Up for this day
Doing LZ "constructions"
With 3,000 pound bombs
Equipped with six foot fuse extenders.
We were to follow
The FAC's
In their O-2s, showing us the way
With their Willy Petes indicating where
To place our ton and half bombs
We went up ...
F-4s taking off as a squadron.
We were to precede
The Loaches and Cobras and Hueys, and
All the ground troops
Only by minutes
Having done our "construction"
The ground fire was
So intense that our
FACs told us to hold off
So that F-100 fighters
Could do flak suppression
Near our construction sites.
"Come back in, give us 20 mike-mikes."
Our orbit pattern enabled
Us to see
What looked like
A thousand choppers waiting
To move in on Charlie.
We saw the F-100's
Moving in from the right
And the left firing cannon
And folding fin rockets
The detonations of which
Would grant temporary access
To the FACs
For the Willy Petes markers
It was a very hot few minutes
For Charlie on the ground,
And then we came in.
I started my pass
Over the mountains eastward
Somewhere around 15,000 feet
From the base-leg, a 135 degree banking turn
Leaving me pointed towards the target.
Correcting correcting up a little
On the smoke of a white phosphorus marker
Dropped by our FAC.
I was glad that
The 3, 000 pounder
With six foot fuse extender
Is a stable bomb ...
It pretty much goes where you put it
Dropped from 400 feet
On impact it's an instantaneous bang
With lots of potential
Fragmentation damage to my airplane
So we didn't tarry --
Nary a bit!
This was the lead plane's run
And plane two - me ...
From the two plane flight
I followed the FAC's directions:
"From lead plane's bomb,
Hit lead plane's bomb."
Which I did ...
These blasts would clear
All the thick jungle
In that area
Preparing, constructing
An LZ for the Grunts, and
Destroying slaying
Any VC that might just be there.
On our way out Cam Ranh bound
We dodged flak,
Our Hueys Loaches and Cobras
Our F-100s and the FAC's O-2s
And also ... not the least of all
The rest of our squadron
In the air
Flying, it seemed
Every which way.
We were flying way too fast
At 480 IAS
To watch any single firefight
On the ground.
It seemed like the
Whole valley
Was in a firefight
With dozens of columns
Of smoke from battles
Rising it seemed
From everywhere.
I saw a helicopter
Go down burning
On my last pass through the valley
Then we were clear of the battle.
by Contributing Poet Ray Whitaker Copyright © 2015
VWP 2015 First published in ACKNOWLEDGEMENT: Poems From The 'Nam 2015
3. Families of the Enemy
It was over ...
This bloody firefight had been successful
For us.
Another NVA basecamp destroyed
By our Mike Force our usual efficient work
Bodies lay where they had fallen, slain
By M-60s, M-16s, M-79, and
Our highly trained unit from Moc Hoa.
Smoke poured out of their burning ammo bunker
No one left alive in this ruined basecamp
The NVA had lost this day
We were gathering for Intel:
Half burnt papers unit correspondence
Such as there was left undestroyed.
And some of the officer's bodies were frisked
Looking for what?
I really didn't know,
Just a wallet here on this NVA Captain with
Several personal photos in it,
What looked like his classmates in OCS
Pictures of two men, a bunch of youths, a boy
One that maybe was his wife and kids, and
A picture of a medal-pinning ceremony.
It was clear to me now, that
This officer wasn't just the enemy
He was a man with a history,
A man with loved ones
A man with concerns and loves and ...
It struck me just then
That he was much like me
Risking dying just like me
Far from home just like me.
by Contributing Poet Ray Whitaker Copyright © 2015
VWP 2015 First published in ACKNOWLEDGEMENT: Poems From The 'Nam 2015
4. Distinguished Flying Cross at Khe Sanh
The GCA warned us,
"Taking fire from Victor Charles,
Better wait, delay your approach, Aircraft 609."
I did.
"Stay in the area, we need the ammo."
I flew in a circle at 5,000 feet
Observing the siege below
I joined several C-123 Providers awaiting clearance.
Khe Sanh was what the NVA wanted
It was clearly under siege
No ground roads could be traveled.
Air support was the life-blood
To those Marines.
Two of the C-123s up there with me
Aborted their mission
Claiming: "Low on fuel."
While in our holding pattern,
Leaving us to deliver
Critical supplies: ammo, and fresh troops.
At last, GCA cleared us to land.
This was our fifth mission here in two days.
On approach, I am impressed
By an F-4 Phantom
He blows by us. Fast!
Less than 100 yards away, dropping
His 750 pound bomb.
As I'm about to touch down
Big concussions buffet my plane ...
A new crater
Just outside the Marine's perimeter
From the F-4
Ruin's some NVA's day
And gives us time
To get in and hopefully out.
It was rough, on that cratered strip
Landing on the pierced steel planking
Never stopping, we taxied
At full land speed
Around to the Loading Zone on the left of the airstrip.
It was like going through
An airplane salvage yard, with
Airplane wings, empionaiges and airplane fuselages
Blown up, and bulldozed just off the strip.
Evidence of a pilot's mission that
Came to a
Violent, and destructive
Abrupt end.
There's incoming artillery
Now where we just were ...
I saw the explosions out of the window
Behind my bird;
I'm glad I'm taxiing ...
Our movement making it harder for
The NVA to get range on us,
And they sure were trying.
I rolled past Marines in foxholes
Filthy, grimy they waved
Glad to see our C-123 and
The ammo and supplies
They needed to survive all this.
I didn't dare stop the plane
Mortar fire was deadly, and
An airplane can be a fragile thing.
We off-loaded in the Loading Zone while constantly moving
My loadmaster busy pushing crates
Over the lip
Of the bottom clamshell door, and
Trying not to fall out himself.
Time to go!
We rounded the corner
Of the landing zone, onto
The strip bouncing lurching
On that pierced steel planking.
Engines revving up
We began our take-off
Clamshell doors starting to close,
Moving faster now down the strip.
A hand suddenly appeared on the door lip
My Loadmaster helped one frantic Marine aboard
He'd had enough of the constant firefight
Wounded, he's going out with us now.
No stopping now,
We lift off
I'm glad the NVA mortars
Missed us ...
Airborne at last!
Once clear of the siege below
We were damn glad of it.
And the very next morning
The Ops tower at Phan Rang
Told us all that the strip
At Khe Sanh was closed to fixed wing aircraft
Until the battle lifted some
Due to the planes lost while on the ground.
by Contributing Poet Ray Whitaker Copyright © 2015
VWP 2015 First published in ACKNOWLEDGEMENT: Poems From The 'Nam 2015
5. First Sergeant and the Cherries
On duty in the Orderly Room
And yet another drink,
His fourth today ...
First SGT. was remembering
Only all too well ...
Firebase Alpha
Nearly over-run, perimeter all lit up
And Spec.-4 Smith dying at 0300
Two rounds having made hamburger of his gut.
And Charlie's fourth wave onto the wire
On that eerie, deadly night
As ghostly flares illuminated the firefight's noise
While the Helo Gunships rained death on Charlie from above,
Being nearly out of ammo
When the attack was broken.
First SGT. was quite nearly drunk
When the two Cherries reported in, wearing
Starched fatigues not dirty yet
With the 'Nam.
He looked up in a haze
As they announced their names, and:
"Ain't goin' to no front."
"No Sir, ain't goin' to no front!"
"Might as well find us
Some job in the rear, Sarge."
"Ain't goin' to no front line!"
Well, no telling what went through
First Sgt.'s mind, and
Those Cherries had about
A snowball's chance in Hell
Of coming out of that hut untouched.
The next thing I know
First SGT. grabbed his shotgun
And let rounds fly
At those Cherries.
BAM BAM BAM!
He was drunk, and missed ...
Lucky for them.
They came out the door
The door blew up behind them
BAM BAM BAM!
Pieces of hut flying,
Cherries running fast as hell
Away from what they thought
Was a madman.
Someone called the MPs
And they subdued him.
First Sgt.'s bellowing, screaming
"Let me at them ...
I'll kill those lousy SOBs."
It took four MPs to hold him.
Disarm him
As they dragged him away.
I heard he was
Shipped out stateside
I hope they gave him
Consideration
For he was a good
Man Lifer Regular Army
He'd just had too much,
Crossed the line
Been pushed too far.
Who would have thought
That Cherries could do
What they did
To a good Man
Like him?
by Contributing Poet Ray Whitaker Copyright © 2015
VWP 2015 First published in ACKNOWLEDGEMENT: Poems From The 'Nam 2015
They were all lined up long-ways
Like horses in days of old
Facing an inconsequential border fence
Separating Vietnam from Cambodia.
There were M-48 Tanks
Armored Personnel Carriers
Jeeps with .50 Cal. machine guns
Engines revving up,
Belching smoke and noise ...
As Tank gunners loaded their guns
With cannon rounds.
The Major in command got out his .45
Then fired three shots into the air
He waved them "Forward"
Rolling over that lousy fence, the "official" invasion
Going after the North Vietnamese.
by Contributing Poet Ray Whitaker Copyright © 2015
VWP 2015 First published in ACKNOWLEDGEMENT: Poems From The 'Nam 2015
2. First Wave into the Ashau
We had our
Collective asses kicked
There before in 1966,
there in the Ashau Valley
Two years and one month before today
The Special Forces
Were nearly over-run there at this very place.
We went back in with a vengeance Operation Delaware
A combat air assault in March of '68
Two-pronged
At either end of the valley.
The pre-flight briefing at Can Ranh was
Comprehensive and detailed.
Our job was "construction"
All three wings of our F-4Cs
Up for this day
Doing LZ "constructions"
With 3,000 pound bombs
Equipped with six foot fuse extenders.
We were to follow
The FAC's
In their O-2s, showing us the way
With their Willy Petes indicating where
To place our ton and half bombs
We went up ...
F-4s taking off as a squadron.
We were to precede
The Loaches and Cobras and Hueys, and
All the ground troops
Only by minutes
Having done our "construction"
The ground fire was
So intense that our
FACs told us to hold off
So that F-100 fighters
Could do flak suppression
Near our construction sites.
"Come back in, give us 20 mike-mikes."
Our orbit pattern enabled
Us to see
What looked like
A thousand choppers waiting
To move in on Charlie.
We saw the F-100's
Moving in from the right
And the left firing cannon
And folding fin rockets
The detonations of which
Would grant temporary access
To the FACs
For the Willy Petes markers
It was a very hot few minutes
For Charlie on the ground,
And then we came in.
I started my pass
Over the mountains eastward
Somewhere around 15,000 feet
From the base-leg, a 135 degree banking turn
Leaving me pointed towards the target.
Correcting correcting up a little
On the smoke of a white phosphorus marker
Dropped by our FAC.
I was glad that
The 3, 000 pounder
With six foot fuse extender
Is a stable bomb ...
It pretty much goes where you put it
Dropped from 400 feet
On impact it's an instantaneous bang
With lots of potential
Fragmentation damage to my airplane
So we didn't tarry --
Nary a bit!
This was the lead plane's run
And plane two - me ...
From the two plane flight
I followed the FAC's directions:
"From lead plane's bomb,
Hit lead plane's bomb."
Which I did ...
These blasts would clear
All the thick jungle
In that area
Preparing, constructing
An LZ for the Grunts, and
Destroying slaying
Any VC that might just be there.
On our way out Cam Ranh bound
We dodged flak,
Our Hueys Loaches and Cobras
Our F-100s and the FAC's O-2s
And also ... not the least of all
The rest of our squadron
In the air
Flying, it seemed
Every which way.
We were flying way too fast
At 480 IAS
To watch any single firefight
On the ground.
It seemed like the
Whole valley
Was in a firefight
With dozens of columns
Of smoke from battles
Rising it seemed
From everywhere.
I saw a helicopter
Go down burning
On my last pass through the valley
Then we were clear of the battle.
by Contributing Poet Ray Whitaker Copyright © 2015
VWP 2015 First published in ACKNOWLEDGEMENT: Poems From The 'Nam 2015
3. Families of the Enemy
It was over ...
This bloody firefight had been successful
For us.
Another NVA basecamp destroyed
By our Mike Force our usual efficient work
Bodies lay where they had fallen, slain
By M-60s, M-16s, M-79, and
Our highly trained unit from Moc Hoa.
Smoke poured out of their burning ammo bunker
No one left alive in this ruined basecamp
The NVA had lost this day
We were gathering for Intel:
Half burnt papers unit correspondence
Such as there was left undestroyed.
And some of the officer's bodies were frisked
Looking for what?
I really didn't know,
Just a wallet here on this NVA Captain with
Several personal photos in it,
What looked like his classmates in OCS
Pictures of two men, a bunch of youths, a boy
One that maybe was his wife and kids, and
A picture of a medal-pinning ceremony.
It was clear to me now, that
This officer wasn't just the enemy
He was a man with a history,
A man with loved ones
A man with concerns and loves and ...
It struck me just then
That he was much like me
Risking dying just like me
Far from home just like me.
by Contributing Poet Ray Whitaker Copyright © 2015
VWP 2015 First published in ACKNOWLEDGEMENT: Poems From The 'Nam 2015
4. Distinguished Flying Cross at Khe Sanh
The GCA warned us,
"Taking fire from Victor Charles,
Better wait, delay your approach, Aircraft 609."
I did.
"Stay in the area, we need the ammo."
I flew in a circle at 5,000 feet
Observing the siege below
I joined several C-123 Providers awaiting clearance.
Khe Sanh was what the NVA wanted
It was clearly under siege
No ground roads could be traveled.
Air support was the life-blood
To those Marines.
Two of the C-123s up there with me
Aborted their mission
Claiming: "Low on fuel."
While in our holding pattern,
Leaving us to deliver
Critical supplies: ammo, and fresh troops.
At last, GCA cleared us to land.
This was our fifth mission here in two days.
On approach, I am impressed
By an F-4 Phantom
He blows by us. Fast!
Less than 100 yards away, dropping
His 750 pound bomb.
As I'm about to touch down
Big concussions buffet my plane ...
A new crater
Just outside the Marine's perimeter
From the F-4
Ruin's some NVA's day
And gives us time
To get in and hopefully out.
It was rough, on that cratered strip
Landing on the pierced steel planking
Never stopping, we taxied
At full land speed
Around to the Loading Zone on the left of the airstrip.
It was like going through
An airplane salvage yard, with
Airplane wings, empionaiges and airplane fuselages
Blown up, and bulldozed just off the strip.
Evidence of a pilot's mission that
Came to a
Violent, and destructive
Abrupt end.
There's incoming artillery
Now where we just were ...
I saw the explosions out of the window
Behind my bird;
I'm glad I'm taxiing ...
Our movement making it harder for
The NVA to get range on us,
And they sure were trying.
I rolled past Marines in foxholes
Filthy, grimy they waved
Glad to see our C-123 and
The ammo and supplies
They needed to survive all this.
I didn't dare stop the plane
Mortar fire was deadly, and
An airplane can be a fragile thing.
We off-loaded in the Loading Zone while constantly moving
My loadmaster busy pushing crates
Over the lip
Of the bottom clamshell door, and
Trying not to fall out himself.
Time to go!
We rounded the corner
Of the landing zone, onto
The strip bouncing lurching
On that pierced steel planking.
Engines revving up
We began our take-off
Clamshell doors starting to close,
Moving faster now down the strip.
A hand suddenly appeared on the door lip
My Loadmaster helped one frantic Marine aboard
He'd had enough of the constant firefight
Wounded, he's going out with us now.
No stopping now,
We lift off
I'm glad the NVA mortars
Missed us ...
Airborne at last!
Once clear of the siege below
We were damn glad of it.
And the very next morning
The Ops tower at Phan Rang
Told us all that the strip
At Khe Sanh was closed to fixed wing aircraft
Until the battle lifted some
Due to the planes lost while on the ground.
by Contributing Poet Ray Whitaker Copyright © 2015
VWP 2015 First published in ACKNOWLEDGEMENT: Poems From The 'Nam 2015
5. First Sergeant and the Cherries
On duty in the Orderly Room
And yet another drink,
His fourth today ...
First SGT. was remembering
Only all too well ...
Firebase Alpha
Nearly over-run, perimeter all lit up
And Spec.-4 Smith dying at 0300
Two rounds having made hamburger of his gut.
And Charlie's fourth wave onto the wire
On that eerie, deadly night
As ghostly flares illuminated the firefight's noise
While the Helo Gunships rained death on Charlie from above,
Being nearly out of ammo
When the attack was broken.
First SGT. was quite nearly drunk
When the two Cherries reported in, wearing
Starched fatigues not dirty yet
With the 'Nam.
He looked up in a haze
As they announced their names, and:
"Ain't goin' to no front."
"No Sir, ain't goin' to no front!"
"Might as well find us
Some job in the rear, Sarge."
"Ain't goin' to no front line!"
Well, no telling what went through
First Sgt.'s mind, and
Those Cherries had about
A snowball's chance in Hell
Of coming out of that hut untouched.
The next thing I know
First SGT. grabbed his shotgun
And let rounds fly
At those Cherries.
BAM BAM BAM!
He was drunk, and missed ...
Lucky for them.
They came out the door
The door blew up behind them
BAM BAM BAM!
Pieces of hut flying,
Cherries running fast as hell
Away from what they thought
Was a madman.
Someone called the MPs
And they subdued him.
First Sgt.'s bellowing, screaming
"Let me at them ...
I'll kill those lousy SOBs."
It took four MPs to hold him.
Disarm him
As they dragged him away.
I heard he was
Shipped out stateside
I hope they gave him
Consideration
For he was a good
Man Lifer Regular Army
He'd just had too much,
Crossed the line
Been pushed too far.
Who would have thought
That Cherries could do
What they did
To a good Man
Like him?
by Contributing Poet Ray Whitaker Copyright © 2015
VWP 2015 First published in ACKNOWLEDGEMENT: Poems From The 'Nam 2015
Bio: Ray Whitaker, with two books of poetry to his credit, ACKNOWLEDGEMENT: Poems From The 'Nam
(212 pages, 3/2015) and 23, 18 (90 pages, 10/2015), has been writing poetry since he was seventeen.
Holding a Bachelor's in Music Education, Ray has been living and writing creatively since college.
Recently retired from a thirty-four year career as a clinical Respiratory Therapist,
he is putting all his energy into writing and singing bass.
He has twice been a 'Writer-In-Residence' at Weymouth Center for the North Carolina Arts and Humanities.
He is currently doing readings at the independent bookstores that carry his book around the state.
He had two books published in 2017.
Ray is a member of the North Carolina Poetry Society, as well as the North Carolina Writer's Network.
The five poems that appear here, from his 2015 book, ACKNOWLEDGEMENT: Poems From The 'Nam,
are representative of the approach he took when writing this book.
They are from interviews with fourteen different Vietnam Vets, ranging from enlisted to officers
in all branches of service.
Many different MOS are also represented, from fixed wing pilots to medics,
to grunts to combat photographers.
(212 pages, 3/2015) and 23, 18 (90 pages, 10/2015), has been writing poetry since he was seventeen.
Holding a Bachelor's in Music Education, Ray has been living and writing creatively since college.
Recently retired from a thirty-four year career as a clinical Respiratory Therapist,
he is putting all his energy into writing and singing bass.
He has twice been a 'Writer-In-Residence' at Weymouth Center for the North Carolina Arts and Humanities.
He is currently doing readings at the independent bookstores that carry his book around the state.
He had two books published in 2017.
Ray is a member of the North Carolina Poetry Society, as well as the North Carolina Writer's Network.
The five poems that appear here, from his 2015 book, ACKNOWLEDGEMENT: Poems From The 'Nam,
are representative of the approach he took when writing this book.
They are from interviews with fourteen different Vietnam Vets, ranging from enlisted to officers
in all branches of service.
Many different MOS are also represented, from fixed wing pilots to medics,
to grunts to combat photographers.
Except where otherwise attributed, all pages & content herein
Copyright © 2014 - 2020 Paul Hellweg VietnamWarPoetry.com All rights reserved
Westerly, Rhode Island, USA