Three Days in June

Submitted by: Pearl Taylor Vanderbilt

"We were the children of the 1950's
and John F. Kennedy's young
stalwart's of the 1960's. He told
the world that Americans would
'pay any price, bear any burden,
meet any hardship' in the defense
of freedom. We were the down
payment on that costly contract,
but the man who signed it was not
there when we fulfilled his promise.
John F. Kennedy waited for us on a
hill in Arlington National Cemetery,
and in time we came by the
thousands to fill those slopes with
our white marble markers and to
ask on the murmur of the wind
if that truly was the future he had
envisioned for us".

--- Joseph L. Galloway
"We Were Soldiers Once........And Young"

The above is a passage I keep framed on a wall in my dedicated to my brother, Elijah Taylor, a survivor and Bronze Star recipient of the Vietnam War. And to all those brave and very noble young men and women who did not come home. – pv

A Combat Chronicle:

Elijah Taylor

Branch of Service: United States Army
Rank at Separation from Military Service: Specialist 5
Military Occupational Specialty: Medical Corpsman
Theater of Operation: The Republic of Vietnam, January 1967 - December 1967
Assigned to: Charlie Company, 4th/47th INF, 9th Infantry Division
*Recipient of the Army Commendation Medal for Heroism with "V" Device (Valor) 15 May 1967
*Recipient of the Bronze Star for Heroism with "V" Device (Valor) 19 June 1967

   What follows is a personal account by Elijah Taylor of fierce skirmishes and outright battle that raged over three consecutive days on June 18, 19, & 20 of 1967 in the Ap Bac region in the eastern sector of The Mekong Delta, Long An Province, Republic of South Vietnam.

     On the night of June 18, 1967, my platoon (3rd Platoon) was given orders to proceed on a search and destroy mission along the banks of the river (the Mekong Delta) in small, motor-driven boats. The following morning on June 19th, that order was changed. 4th Platoon would now take over assignment of the boat patrol.
    At around 10:00 or so our company was hit by Charlie (Vietcong troops) from what seemed like all directions. It was clear they had been waiting for us. We returned fire but I soon had to stop and render aid to wounded soldiers that had been struck down on the initial volley of enemy fire.
    A call came over the radio from 2nd Platoon. They had been hit hard, lost their medic in first fire and had numerous wounded men. From our position 2nd Platoon was located an estimated 100 meters away across a rice paddy. Open terrain with no protection. Immediately I stripped myself of any gear I wouldn’t need and told my LT, Lieutenant Hoskins and Platoon Sergeant Marrs, that I would go and give medical aid.
    He couldn't order me on such a dangerous mission, Lt. Hoskins told me. And besides that, I'd be receiving enemy fire from the tree line. I informed him that this was strictly my call and I couldn't live with myself if I stayed back and not give it my best shot.
    I survived the 100 meter dash by staying close to the rice paddy dikes, using them for cover. I crawled, ran, ducked and dodged, and did everything necessary to get to 2nd Platoon. From the tree line I did, indeed, draw small arms and automatic fire. The bullets kicking up thick splashes of mud as enemy troops targeted the area around me.
    By keeping low to the ground I was able to give much needed aid to quite a few wounded soldiers. Focusing on stopping the bleeding, getting them to safety, and calling for Dust-Off (evacuation by helicopter).
    One of the soldiers died while I was treating him. The loss of blood too bad to save him. I think about that soldier often. Wondering if I had gotten across that rice paddy just five minutes earlier, would that have meant the difference. The difference between life and death.
    I saw and treated about every wound imaginable. Enough to last a lifetime. I can still see the deep thigh-wound from a 50 caliber machine gun that hit a soldier only five or six feet away from my position. I had to use a large field dressing to stop the bleeding. Thankfully I was successful, and we later loaded him on the medivac chopper with the other wounded soldiers. It was my hope that doctor's would eventually be able to save his leg, and I was glad that I was in some way responsible by doing the job I was trained to do.
    The one thing that I will always remember most about the morning of June 20, 1967, is the remainder of us having to police-up (to clean an area and bring it to good order) the bodies and wounded men of Alpha Company that had been cut to pieces the day before. Some of the soldiers had died during the night. Helicopters unable to get in and out quick enough to accommodate the numbers wounded.
    From these experiences as a combat medic, I've found it hard to get over the strange and peculiar smell of blood, mud, and gunpowder. It's an unfortunate part of war that stays with you.
    For these actions, I was awarded the Bronze Star with "V" Device (Valor) and until I take my last breath, I will be forever proud.
    On June 20th also, we learned that most of the men of 4th platoon had been killed by claymore mines. Had the original order not been changed that fateful morning, I very well could have been among the casualties.
    On one of those boats that day was a soldier I knew well as a friend and a Texan. I go often to visit The Vietnam Memorial Wall for Texans to see his name and the names of other fellow comrades killed in action.
    Newspaper reports say that over a thousand Vietcong soldiers waited for us in that morning ambush. Hiding themselves in the heavy green jungle brush. Surrounding us in an L-shape on two sides. Well prepared and well armed. Aerial photographs after the battle show deep craters and pockmarks of a battlefield bombarded by air strikes. A military procedure designed, among other things, to flush the enemy out into the open.
    I have no idea of what drove me across that rice paddy that day. I look back at that time now and am amazed. In hindsight, I say maybe it was adrenaline. Then again, maybe it was simply the hope that, were I in similar circumstances, someone would have done the same for me. Whatever it was, I'm both honored and pleased to have done my part.

                                                                       --- E. Taylor