“MOLE CITY”
Since Thanksgiving 1968 our whole AO of III Corp. had started seeing enemy activity on a slowly escalating scale. The doldrums of TET were over. Charlie seems to have his wounds licked and healed from the ass kicking he endured during the TET offensive. From his Cambodian sanctuaries another round of attacks are about to begin.
For weeks the tenseness in the air had been building and could be cut with a knife. Charlie had refused to commit large numbers of troops to the fight, just an ambush here and there mostly of platoon-sized action. This was aggravating the higher ups at Division and in Washington D.C. The body counts were slipping and something had to be done. With this in mind they developed a new strategy "The Patrol Base".
The principal of the "Patrol Base" was to establish a very small Fire Support Base right under the VC and the NVA's nose. To this end, "Patrol Base Mole City" would be the first in a series of these "bait and trap" operations.
"Mole City" was located in an area that had been untouched by allied ground forces in over a year. The area straddled one of the busiest infiltration routes from Cambodia in all of III Corp. This route serviced the NVA with men, equipment, and supplies that would operate on the III Corp, Saigon, and War Zone C battlefields.
It was tiny, barely 100 yards across in any direction. Circular in nature and positioned but a couple of clicks from the Cambodian border it would prove to be the ultimate lure It would have a defending force of 500 men made up of three companies of the 4/9th "Manchu's of the 25th Infantry Division.
On the morning of 18 December 1968 the men of Manchu began the task of preparing this tiny oasis 91/2 miles south of Tay Ninh City into a fortified position nick named "Mole City". In a single day Company A. of the 25th Infantry Divisions 65th engineers transformed 186,000 pounds of building material hauled in by 27 sorties of CH-47 helicopters into a well fortified position. The engineers with the use of bulldozers constructed the perimeter berm, and the men of Manchu would dig the bunkers spaced 20 yards apart linked together like a giant spider web with deep connecting trenches to act as fighting positions. The bunkers consisted of deep holes covered with PCP steel and a layer or two of sandbags on top to shield any direct hits from mortar, rocket, and RPG rounds. A prefabricated guard tower was flown in to cap off the construction effort. Needless to say there was a sense of urgency.
By nightfall of 22 December 1968 the concertina wire had been strung, the claymore mines set, personnel sensors were positioned in the tree lines, fields of fire established, listening posts had been dispatched to the northeast and southwest, and the artillery had set their coordinates on the tree lines. They were ready. These brave men had no idea what would soon be in store for them.
The Manchu's themselves had endured a hard month. A few days before Thanksgiving they had lost two-thirds of their experienced troopers in one all night firefight south of Trang Bang. The units were now made up of new replacements with no prior combat experience, virgins to combat, and a few seasoned veterans. It would prove to be for many their last night on this earth.
This sets the stage for the unraveling of events that will be forever etched on my brain. This battle would prove costly for the NVA/VC (North Vietnamese Army/Viet Cong). It was also very costly for the heroic men of Manchu and many more. They would still be paying for this battle 34 years later.
In the "Diamondhead" scramble shack you could sense something big was up. No one was saying anything, but with the rumblings in the company area, the franticness of the maintenance crews in the hanger trying to get another fire team flyable. When our flare ship and our sister company Little Bear's counter mortar ship were put on three-minute standby at 6 P.M. you knew. We had all seen it before.
At 11P.M. in the "Little Bear" ready room the "Counter Mortar Crew", which was made up of the aircraft crew chief and gunner, the artillery "Forward Observer"(FO), the "Aircraft Commander (AC) CWO Mitch Wilhelm and the co-pilot (PP) WO Ed Rodgers had just settled down to go to sleep, when a messenger burst through the door stating in an urgent voice, "let's go you guys, you have a mission." The gunner and crew chief were already on their way to the aircraft to make it ready for take off along with AC CWO Mitch Wilhelm and the (FO). The (PP) WO Ed Rodgers was hurriedly writing down the mission coordinates, artillery information, and radio call signs of the ground commander.
As WO Ed Rodgers approached the aircraft the engine was already at 6600 RPM, the guns were mounted and the crew was on board and ready to go. In moments they were headed southwest towards a rendezvous with "Hell".
We in the Diamondhead "Scramble Shack" were doing our usual thing; some were watching the 11:30 TV program "Gun Smoke" and still trying to figure out if Matt Dillon flinches when he draws his gun in the opening scene of the program. Some of the crewmembers were playing cards, and the gunners were asleep, all of us waiting for the phone to ring. The signal the mission had started. It was a long restless night. At 0020 the phone rang. We all sprang into action and raced to the ships. The last pilot CWO Greg Bucy answered the telephone and got the radio frequencies of the ground commander and coordinates of the mission.
As I got to the ship I untied its blade, gave the clear signal and the pilot hit the starter. You could hear the whining of the turbine as it started spinning. You could hear the "Tic! Tic! Tic!" of the igniters searching for fuel and the Whoosh of its ignition. As the RPM's increased you could hear the methodical singing of the blades as they gained momentum searching for 6600 RPM. The gunners and crew chiefs are mounting the guns, and getting into their protective chicken plates. CWO Bucy finally arrived with the mission information and gets in and buckles up in his seat. It is time to Rock and Roll.
"Cu Chi Tower, Cu Chi Tower this is Diamondhead Light Fire Team on "The Beach" (Our designated portion of the flight line) "Scramble", the Fire Team leader CWO Hayne Moore broadcasts. "We are enroute Hoc Mon". "Be advised Diamondhead of heavy arty in the area" breaks in the tower. "You are clear to the south. Contact Hoc Mon Arty for approach to the area". Moments later we hovered out of the protective revetment and head south down the runway, the heavily loaded gun ships, frantically clawing at the air for translational lift. Soon we were on the way into the cool night. The lights of Cu Chi slowly fading away as we steadily gain altitude up to 1500 feet and level off. It should be but a short flight of 15 minutes to Mole City.
As the gunships cut through the darkness, the rhythmic popping of the blades gave the night a feeling of tranquility. This tranquility would be shattered moments later. As we approached the Oriental River just south of Go Dau Ha, still three to five clicks south of our objective an NVA .51 caliber anti aircraft gun opened up on the lead gunship. We had positioned ourselves slightly behind and to the north of the lead ship, so we had a front row seat. As the tracers ascended towards the lead ship they appeared to curve towards them, like chains of orange Christmas tree lights. Over the radio came a transmission "Taking fire, taking fire". CWO Larry King my (AC) instinctively had WO Roy Thomas (PP) reach up and pull the navigation light circuit breaker and go blacked out. We immediately rolled in and attacked the NVA .51 cal below with several sets of rockets and the door guns as the lead ship broke hard to the right to avoid the anti-aircraft fire from below they also killed the navigation lights and went blacked out. This one pass seemed to silence the .51 so both ships still blacked out head back to the river.
"Diamondhead 20, this is Diamondhead 10", CWO Hayne Moore broadcasts, "go Diamondhead 10" CWO Larry Little replies. "We are at 1500 feet and are going to go steady dim on the nav lights. Suggest you stay blacked out and below us." "Roger that, Diamondhead 10."
In the distance you could already see the eerie glow of the parachute flares fired by Artillery howitzers somewhere in the Vietnamese night, and the occasional ricochet of a .51 cal tracer high into the night sky. I thought to myself, "damn not them 51's again. I hate those things." If you got hit in the chicken plate it wouldn't even slow it down. It would make a thumb size hole going in and take out the whole back of your chicken plate exiting. If you got hit in the hand it could just rip off your whole arm.
As we got closer CWO Hayne Moore was back on the radio contacting the ground commander. "Recast Uniform one four, this is Diamondhead 10 Light fire Team, please advise situation", our ETA is five minutes. "Roger Diamondhead 10. We are getting the shit kicked out of us. We are surrounded and I don't know how many there are but they are everywhere, and we are in danger of being overrun. We have enemy in the wire and on the north/east sides they are in the open. We are taking recoilless rifle fire along with RPG and automatic weapons. Be advised we have two LP's (Listening Posts) out one to the southeast about 200 yards in the tree line, and one to the northeast about the same." "Roger Recast Uniform one four." As we neared station, we could make out the automatic weapons fire. It was ferocious, red tracers going out, white and green tracers going in towards the perimeter, and the occasional streak of an RPG seeking out a bunker and its occupants.
The night was hazy with all the smoke and dust in the air from impacting ordinance of the friendly artillery and rockets and mortars from the NVA. The glow from the flares made it a surrealistic vision.
As we orbited the battlefield, the fire Team leader "CWO Hayne Moore" tried to quickly access the situation on the ground, and to formulate an impromptu plan of attack. The entire perimeter was under siege, and it was paramount to assist the hardest hit portions as soon as possible. It was decided to split the fire team Diamondhead 10 would work the north side of the perimeter, and Diamondhead 20 would work over to the west and south sides. As we started our first run, and we started down and punched off one set of rockets, here came the damn .51's. They looked like orange basketballs and they just whizzed by inches from their mark. I thought," that was way to close". My gunner and I hosed the position the best we could with the M-60 machine guns leaning out the doors and made a mental note of the location. As we broke right we were over the open area to the north and there were so many NVA soldiers it looked like a bunch of ants attacking a picnic. I don't care where I shot the M-60 I couldn't miss. There were too many of them. As we circled around and made another pass we expended all of our rockets, mini-gun ammo and 2000 rounds of M-60 door gun ammo from each gun in the open area. The M-60's were so hot they glowed cherry red and had a translucency to them, you could see the bullets going down the barrel.
"Recast Uniform one four, this is Diamondhead 20. We are fully expended and headed to rearm, we will be back ASAP". "Roger Diamondhead 20, just make it fast". With that transmission made, we nursed all the speed we could get out of the old Huey. The blades flailing at the air to get all the speed it could muster from the old girl, the deafening whine of the engine, and the whop, whop, whop of the blades shattered the night as we hurriedly flew toward the re-arm point at Tay Ninh since it was closer than Cu Chi. Fuel could wait for later. "Tay Ninh Tower, Tay Ninh Tower this is Diamondhead 20. After a short pause Tay Ninh Tower replies, "Roger Diamondhead 20, go" "We need clearance to the Tay Ninh re-arm point direct, ETA five minutes". "Roger Diamondhead 20 you are clear direct". In the distance I could make out the lights of Tay Ninh City. Just to the north would be the base camp. The air was cool and soothing as it rushed by the open doors, my nerves were rattled and for the first time I noticed I was drenched in sweat. The combination of the heat of battle, fear, and adrenaline had caused it. I, for a few moments as the adrenaline subsided could recollect what had just happened. This was the most intense battle of MY war. To say I wasn't scared would be futile, and a lie. The tracers had come up so fast and so often at times I had been afraid to breathe for fear of inhaling one. I thought to myself, I don't know if we will get out of this one, this is bad. Then I thought about the grunts on the ground. I wouldn't trade with them for a million dollars. Whatever I had seen from above was ten fold worse down there in the trenches. Somehow the thought of their plight made my situation acceptable. It was our job to get the grunts out of this, to see them through. They were our grunts. They were our sole purpose of living. We could never let them down.
As we were inbound to the re-arm point I noticed the Little Bear Counter Mortar ship had just finished refueling, lifted off and hovered over to the headquarters pad near the Division commo bunker. The engine had remained at flight idle; the crew had stayed on board except for CWO Wilhelm the AC who had gone inside.
As we landed and shed our helmets and protective equipment there was a sense of urgency to complete the re-arming as quickly as possible. The Manchu's needed us desperately and we knew it. The pilots and crew chiefs humped rockets and loaded them into their launchers while the gunners re-armed the mini-guns and door guns. Moments later our wing ship appeared out of the south and landed next to us in the re-arm point. They to would go through the same ritual of rearming as we did. Little did we know that this ballet would be played out over and over for the next seven hours - non-stop. The Little Bear counter Mortar ship also joined us, hovering over from the Division commo bunker
CWO Hayne Moore and CWO Larry King the Diamondhead 10 and Diamondhead 20 AC's, along with CWO Mitch Wilhelm the Little Bear AC assembled near the blister bag of drinking water that was at the re-arm point to map out the best way to support the Manchu's, and develop a plan to protect the Little Bear ship on this upcoming mission.
The briefing in the commo bunker was for an emergency re-supply of ammunition, which was being loaded by the re-arm point personnel. If we didn't get it to the Manchu's quickly they would be out of ammo and over run, which would mean hundreds of deaths. There was no possibility of putting additional troops in before daylight, so CWO Wilhelm talked to his crew, and understanding the dilemma and danger involved they all volunteered to make the ammo re-supply
After kicking several scenarios around they decided to stack the ammo in a pyramid in both doors. The re-supply would be a challenge, since "Mole City" was laden with obstacles. There was a tall radio antenna and an observation tower near the center of the compound where the drop zone was to be concerned with, not to mention they would be going into the center of a blazing fire fight which would make it prohibitive to land so they would just come to a hover and kick the ammo out the door. This plan also created a problem; they were two men short to off load the ammo. The gunner and crew chief needed to man the guns for self defense.
Two young troopers from the re-arm point were busily loading the last of the ammo, when CWO Wilhelm walked up to talk to them. He asked them if they would mind going along to kick out the boxes when we got where we were going. Neither one had been in a helicopter before nor did they know anything about them, or the mission. They jumped at the chance and replied, "sure man, this ought to be a trip". Little did they know, this would be a trip to last a lifetime. They boarded the "Little Bear" helicopter and took positions crouched down behind the ammo boxes. CWO Wilhelm shouted to them over the whine of the turbine engine, "Stay hunkered down behind those ammo boxes until I tell you to, then just kick out the boxes and we will be out of there". There were no headsets or helmets to give the two troopers where the pilot could talk to them directly in flight, so he would have to relay the instructions via the gunner and crew chief.
The pilots were gathered around discussing tactics as us crewmembers just stood back and listened to the plan. They were discussing the best way to pull off this re-supply. It was going to be dangerous on the re-supply ship. Almost like a suicide mission. I'm glad I wasn't on that slick tonight, and I felt really sorry for those kids from the re-arm point. They didn't have a clue what was going on out there in Indian Country.
"Look Mitch, Larry and I have been out there all night", Hayne Moore stated. "The anti- aircraft fire has been very heavy, we have taken care of most of the .51's and now it is mostly small arms fire that seems to be slowing some. If we come in from the north and hang a hard right and head west I will turn on my landing lights to draw the fire away from you as best I can, and Larry will cover your ass. It ain't a great plan but it is all we have. The Arty is pounding the east and south so we can't go there. The west is really Indian Country so we don't want to start from there."
Everyone thought about it for a minute, and couldn't come up with a better idea, so the consensus was "Let's do it".
We all headed for our ships and began the ritual of getting the chicken boards, helmets and other gear squared away, checked the door guns one final time and climbed aboard. I glanced again at my watch and it was just after 2:20 A.M.
The Little Bear ship left first as we had a few little things to attend to, but moments later we slowly lifted off into the night sky heading back to the inferno of "Mole City".
In the distance we could see a single light of the battle, a glow in the southern sky. The closer we got the glow began to separate itself into many little lights. The flares dropped by the Spooky gunship overhead, the artillery flashes, the red almost laser like stream of tracers coming down from the mini-guns of the Spooky gunship, and the tracers going up at the aircraft. Through our headsets on the radio we could hear the din of battle raging in the distance. This just heightened the adrenaline flow coursing through our veins.
Over the radio we could hear the Little Bear ship coordinating the re-supply with the ground commander, and arranging for a temporary halt to the artillery fire missions.
Moments later we were there at 1500 feet above the raging battle and joined the Little Bear ship in a clockwise orbit above the battle.
"Little Bear, this is Diamondhead 20", "go Diamondhead 20 replied the Little Bear pilot". "Pull out of this orbit and make a big swing to the northeast, we will join up there. Presently we are at 1500 feet en-route to that location. When we get linked up kill your navigation lights and get down on the deck and make your approach north to south. When you get parallel to the center of the Drop Zone make a hard right and we will escort you in. I will turn on my landing lights to draw fire away from you, and then we will be blacked out on the way in." "Roger that Diamondhead 20".
The three ships started their southerly approach towards Mole City. The Little Bear ship just barely skimming the tree tops flanked on one side by Diamondhead 10. Diamondhead 20 was at 1000 feet and turned on his landing light. That drew an immediate response and the torrent of anti-aircraft fire was horrendous. He quickly turned off the Landing light and blacked out his navigation lights as he descended to occupy the left flank of the Little Bear ship. The three ships in tandem made the right turn inbound to Mole City.
The gunships barely seventy-five feet on either side of the Little Bear ship blazing away with their rockets and door guns, the Little Bear ship withholding fire for fear of hitting one of their escorts. In the distance a flare was fired to mark the Drop Zone, with a little adjustment the re-supply ship was lined up on the Drop Zone. As they neared the outer perimeter, the gunships peeled of to the right and left leaving the re-supply ship unprotected and on her own. The intense small arms fire hammered the lone ship on her final hundred-yard journey. You could hear the ting-ting-splat of the enemy rounds piercing the thin skin of the aircraft.
On short final to the Drop Zone CWO Wilhelm was in command of the ship, but WO Don Rodgers had his hands and feet on the controls also in case CWO Wilhelm should become shot or killed. His job was to also monitor the gauges in case some vital component of the aircraft was hit with hostile fire. Within seconds the Little Bear ship was over the Drop Zone and had come to a hover just a few feet above the ground. Through the intercom CWO Wilhelm screamed to the crew chief and gunner to tell the two guys in the back to kick out the ammunition boxes, which they did frantically. It took but a few seconds, but with the murderous hail of enemy fire it seemed like a week.
As quickly as they had arrived, they were gone. As they crossed the perimeter wire through a hail of enemy small arms fire WO Rodgers broke in on the intercom "The engine oil pressure is dropping and the engine temperature is rising!"
It was decision time, either put it down immediately in Indian Country in the black of night and 10 miles from any friendly troops, or hope they can make it back to Tay Ninh, since it was the closest friendly installation. After discussing the dilemma quickly they voted to try and make Tay Ninh and put as much distance as possible on this little piece of "Hell".
As the blades frantically beat the air into submission, and the whining of the engine reached a deafening roar the gauges continued to worsen. Soon the lights of Tay Ninh were in sight. Praying as they went, they soon crossed the perimeter wire and put it on the nearest landing pad that they found, which happened to be the re-arm point. After shutting the engine down and thoroughly checking out the problem of the gauges, a round had severed the main oil engine line. They had been flying with no oil for a while. They all were relieved, and very lucky to have made it back in one piece. The ship was shot full of holes, but just that one lucky shot had hit anything vital.
Through their heroic deeds the Manchu's had the needed ammunition to withstand the NVA onslaught.
Back at Mole City CWO Moore and CWO King had decided to keep the fire team split into two separate ships and fight individually as there were to many targets, and the Manchu's needed suppression on the entire perimeter. We would assume our previous position on the west and south with CWO Larry Kings Diamondhead 20 gunship. CWO Hayne Moore and the Diamondhead 10 gunship would again work the area to the north.
The Little Bear ship had been gone but seconds as we continued to expend our ordinance on the enemy below; after two passes we were totally expended and we too were in route to Tay Ninh to rearm and refuel. CWO Moore contacted the ground commander, and let him know our intentions. "Recast Uniform one four, this is Diamondhead 20. We are fully expended and headed to rearm, we will be back ASAP". "Roger Diamondhead 20, just hurry".
Several minutes later, looking over the pilot's shoulder through the windshield, the soft red glow of the gauges breaking up the darkness of the cockpit I could make out our lead ship. It's red and green navigation lights evident, along with the incessant blinking of the red rotating beacon. In the distance the discernable glow of Tay Ninh City was quickly approaching.
"Tay Ninh Tower Diamondhead 10", "Go Diamondhead 10". "Request straight in to POL, need a little gas in this old beater". "You're clear at your discretion Diamondhead".
Descending into the POL area we turned on our landing lights to locate the pumps. Having found them with a little effort, both old Huey's flared and settled slowly to the ground. The engines running at flight idle, the crew chiefs jumped out, removed the gas cap and started the refueling process. It would take but a few minutes. The heavy gunships could only take on 1000 pounds. If we put more fuel, and a full load of rockets and ammo they would never get off the ground with their underpowered engines.
When we had our 1000 pounds of JP-4 on board, we obtained clearance from the tower to hover the few yards over to the re-arm point to begin our re-arming ballet once again.
This time we had some help. The local rearm point guys that had been loading the ammo in the Little Bear ship gave us a hand building the rockets, and helped us tote them, and place them in their launchers. We were exhausted, hot, and sweaty.
The blister bag was once again the center of attraction. We couldn't get enough water tonight to kill the thirst. We talked about the re-supply run as the rearm point guys finished loading the rockets, and what a crazy bunch of bastards they were; to pull that off in one of the biggest fire fights of the war...
Soon we were climbing back aboard and headed back to the war. There was silence in our souls as we had a chance to gather our inner most thoughts and dwell on them for just a few moments; to have discussions with God and make silly promises; to see images of our family in our mind, and contemplate our fate to come.
In the distance we could see the familiar flares casting their eerie light on the landscape below. We could make out the navigation lights of an Air Force Forward Air Controller in his OV-10 Mohawk, and a Command and Control UH-1H slick that had one of the division upper level officers aboard to supervise the battle. They had arrived on station during our absence, and were orbiting counter clockwise high above the action below.
As we neared the battle the intensity of the ricocheting tracers became more distinct caroming high into the air. You could make out explosions around the perimeter of the tiny enclave. It was going to pick up right where we left off. I just gritted my teeth, checked the M-60 to make sure it was ready, and thought to myself, "You want me screw it come and get me you little bastards".
"Recast Uniform one four, this is Diamondhead 20, please advise situation", ETA two minutes. "Roger Diamondhead 20." "Charlie has broken through and taken over three bunkers on the north side and they are in the wire. I will mark our position with a strobe light. It will be the bunkers to the west of the light. Just start there and go anywhere you want. Get them suckers off our back".
"Diamondhead 20 this is Issue 15", "Roger Issue 15 go". I have a flight of two F-4's inbound now ETA 10 minutes. I suggest you stand off to the north when they drop these hot potatoes. They will be making their pass from west to east". CWO Larry King replied, "Roger that Issue 15, just call again when they're inbound"
We settled in on the west side and from 1500 feet began our run from the north punching off rockets in sets of two as we watched the tracers going in all directions below. The pungent odor of cordite was heavy in the Huey as we watched them impact in the wire, our M-60's finding their marks on the enemy caught in the open with nowhere to hide.
The roaring sound of the mini-guns cut through the night as their laser like trajectory-belched fire on the unsuspecting enemy below. It was like a replay of the previous trip the enemy tracers headed skyward searching for their tormentors our door guns again glowing cherry red and raining bullets on the NVA below. The NVA were everywhere but we had slowed the onslaught. At the end of the run we searched for altitude and again circled around to make another run. Once again the rockets found their marks in the groups of NVA. You could see them fall in groups some blown into body parts yet others were nailed to the ground and posts in the wire from the fleshettes.
We were under constant small arms fire, and The Manchu's were in a battle for their lives. The artillerymen with the Manchu's had lowered their 105's to chest high and were shooting beehive rounds point blank into the faces of the enemy.
"Diamondhead 20 this is Issue 15, flight of two F-4's are on location and beginning their runs west to east". "Roger that Issue 15 CWO King replied". We immediately held off to the north. As the F-4's came by all you could hear was a hiss of the fuselage cutting through the air, then the roar of their engines as they screamed by and dropped the napalm canisters which made a ball of fire that went 200 feet or more into the air and engulfed the landscape for several hundred yards into a fiery inferno. The NVA that were caught in the open would be fried to a crisp.
This was the scenario until 4:15 in the morning; rearm, refuel return to the perimeter of Mole City. At 4:15 we spotted 50 to 60 NVA southwest of the friendlies trying to escape back toward Cambodia. We rolled in with the rockets and door guns and cut them to ribbons halting their impromptu retreat. After expending our rockets we orbited the area and let the door gunner shoot up what ammunition he had left into the fleeing throng of NVA. When the door gunner was expended on ammo, the C and C ships door gunners took over while we returned once again to Tay Ninh to rearm and refuel. At daybreak contact was lost and we flew around the pattern and inventoried the damage it was a sobering sight. The fleshettes had nailed NVA to the posts in the wire, to trees and anything else including the ground. Bodies were strewn everywhere, it seemed like hundreds of them scattered about with a multitude of weapons both personal and crew served. The napalm had fried many alive.
We remained on station until the wounded had been removed, and provided cover for the dustoffs. When it was all done, we had been in continuous action for 7 hours, and had played a decided role in the outcome of the battle for Patrol Base Mole City. It will be hard to ever forget.
The battle claimed 106 NVA lives that were counted and many more had been drug off the battlefield from the 272nd NVA regiment, and the 9th NVA Division. Bodies of dead NVA soldiers would continue to show up for days buried in shallow graves throughout the area. The Manchu's had been hit with the full force of a 1500 man NVA regiment. Out manned three to one they had fought with great courage and had won a monumental battle.