Trong miền nam Việt Nam, nơi cực tây bắc, một cái “yên ngựa” giữa hai đỉnh núi cao, trong khu vực kiểm soát của quân đội Bắc Việt. Bộ chỉ huy Bắc (CCN) bí mật thiết lập một đài tiếp vận truyền tin để liên lạc với các toán biệt kích SOG hoạt động trên đất Lào. Đài tiếp vận Hickory nằm trên một đỉnh núi cao, nơi hướng bắc căn cứ Khe Sanh 2,5 dặm. Hai căn cứ bạn gần nhất là căn cứ hỏa lực Fuller và Carroll cách khoảng 20 dặm về hướng đông.
Mặc dầu... chỉ là đài tiếp vận truyền tin (viễn thông), nhưng trong đó có một đài bí mật, chuyên môn theo dõi nghe ngóng, chận bắt những làn phát sóng của quân đội Bắc Việt. Căn cứ chỉ rộng khoảng 30 thước, dài 80 thước, do 27 quân nhân Hoa Kỳ và 67 binh sĩ biệt kích người Thượng trấn giữ, bảo vệ. Nhóm quân nhân này bao gồm các đơn vị: SOG, kiểm thính viên, và một tiểu đội thuộc đại đội L, trung đoàn 75 Biệt Động Quân Hoa Kỳ. Đơn vị SOG dưới quyền chỉ huy của trung sĩ Jon Cavaiani, phụ tá là trung sĩ John Jones.
Sự đe dọa của địch không phải là điều mới lạ, hay ngạc nhiên. Các phân tích gia trong Saigon đã báo động từ mấy tuần lễ trước, quân đội Bắc Việt đang chuyển quân đến bao vây đài tiếp vận nhỏ bé. Trung tá Mike Radke cho biết, chuyện tấn công chắc chắn sẽ xẩy ra, ông ta kể lại “Tôi tiên đoán quân đội Bắc Việt sẽ tấn công trong vòng 72 tiếng đồng hồ, nhưng địch quân đã tấn công trong vòng 24 tiếng”. Vì tầm mức quan trọng, đơn vị SOG cố gắng giữ đài tiếp vận.
Rạng đông ngày 4 tháng Sáu năm 1971, người lính (Thượng) canh gác chỉ cho trung sĩ Cavaiani thấy một điều lạ nơi hàng rào concertina phòng thủ đài tiếp vận Hickory. Đó là một qủa mìn định hướng Claymore do Trung Cộng sản xuất, tìm kiếm xung quanh, họ tìm ra thêm mười qủa mìn khác. Địch quân lợi dụng trời mưa to đêm trước đã bò lên gài mìn. Cavaiani cầm khẩu đại liên M-60 bắn phá được sáu qủa mìn, rồi một qủa phát nổ, làm mấy binh sĩ bị thương. Rồi thêm một qủa khác nổ làm bị thương thêm một số khác, trung sĩ John Jones cũng bị thương nhẹ.
Cách đỉnh núi nơi đặt đài tiếp vận khoảng 60 thước, quân đội Bắc Việt đã đào hầm hố, công sự chiến đấu. Ở trên bắn xuống là có tiếng súng đại liên, súng cối, cùng súng phóng hỏa tiễn B-40 bắn lên trả đũa. Trong khi một cặp, hai phản lực F4 Phantom bắn phá các mục tiêu xung quanh tuyến phòng thủ quân đội Bắc Việt, Cavaiani gặp một người kiểm thính viên trẻ tên là Walter Milsap trong pháo đài có khẩu đại liên 50. Cavaiani nhìn người lính Hoa Kỳ đeo kính cận thị nặng, hỏi anh ta “Anh làm gì vào đây?”. Người chuyên viên kiểm thính, dò đài của địch trả lời “Tôi vào đây để xử dụng khẩu đại liên”. Cavaiani nghĩ thầm... Có nhiều người không biết... phải làm gì? Cavaiani cho một binh sĩ Thượng vào phụ với anh ta xử dụng khẩu đại liên, rồi đi quanh phòng tuyến, xem xét lại việc phòng thủ.
Lúc đó trong đài tiếp vận đã có khoảng chục người bị thương. Cavaiani đang xem xét thương binh, chợt nghe tiếng nổ đạn B-40 trúng vào pháo đài có khẩu đại liên 50, anh ta vừa mới đi ra. Nhìn lên, Cavaiani trông thấy anh lính Milsap đã bị thương đang cố vác khẩu đại liên đặt vào vị trí cũ (bị sức ép rơi xuống đất).
Thêm một qủa B-40 nữa làm bị thương một đại úy Hoa Kỳ, rồi một qủa đạn súng cối nổ làm chấn động đài tiếp vận. Càng lúc càng có thêm người bị thương bì đạn súng cối, B-40, mảnh đạn không tha một ai, các quân nhân bị thương đủ cả thành phần, đơn vị: Mỹ, LLĐB/VN, Thượng. Tình trạng này kéo dài, đài tiếp vận sẽ không chịu nổi những trận pháo kích của quân đội Bắc Việt, Cavaiani ra lệnh di tản, bắt đầu lúc sớm chiều.
Khi trực thăng đến di tản, Cavaiani cõng viên đại úy bị thương ra máy bay, cùng với thương binh đi trước. Chiếc trực thăng thứ hai đáp xuống, Cavaiani “nhét” vào bụng chiếc máy bay càng nhiều quân nhân Hoa Kỳ càng tốt, kể cả Milsap. Nhung khi chiếc trực thăng cất cánh, anh ta vẫn còn đó, không muốn đi trước đồng đội.
Trong khi chờ đợi chuyến kế tiếp, Cavaiani ra lệnh cho Jones và Milsap phá hủy chiếc xe van chở dụng cụ truyền tin để bắt làn sóng truyền tin quân đội Bắc Việt cùng những dụng cụ đặc biệt. Khoảng 4:30 chiều, một chiếc trực thăng đến, gọi máy liên lạc cho Cavaiani chuẩn bị với một lời ngắn gọn “Đây là chuyến trực thăng cuối cùng cho bẩy người”. Cavaiani lớn tiếng phản đối, dưới quyền anh ta vẫn còn con số đông gấp bốn lần! Đơn vị SOG không bỏ rơi những biệt kích quân người Thượng của mình, và anh ta không muốn là người đầu tiên làm chuyện này. Cavaiani đã làm đúng lời nói danh dự của mình, đưa Milsap cùng với 6 người lính Thượng lên chiếc trực thăng cuối cùng.
Đến lúc đó, Cavaiani đã di tản được 68 người, trong đó có 15 người bị thương. Trong đài tiếp vận còn lại 19 biệt kích quân Thượng, bốn quân nhân LLĐB/VN, Jones (bị thương nhẹ) và Cavaiani. Anh ta vẫn không hiểu chuyện gì đã xẩy ra... Vẫn chưa đến 5:00 giờ chiều, thời tiết rất tốt, trong sáng... và đơn vị SOG không xin được trực thăng để di tản! Điều này khó hiểu!
Sau đó một trực thăng cấp cứu CH-53 Jolly Green thuộc Không Lực Hoa Kỳ cất cánh từ Thái Lan trên đường đến đài tiếp vận Hickory. Nhưng khi chiếc Sikorsky còn cách bẩy dặm, viên phi công liên lạc cho biết, chiếc trực thăng phải quay về, nếu không anh ta sẽ bị đưa ra trước tòa án quân sự.
Chuyện bỏ rơi quân nhân đơn vị SOG do sĩ quan cao cấp trong một sư đoàn có nhiệm vụ biệt phái một đơn vị trực thăng cho đơn vị SOG xử dụng. Ông tướng này đã ra lệnh chấm dứt yểm trợ cho đơn vị SOG lúc 5:00 giờ chiều. Khi ông ta biết được, bộ chỉ huy SOG trong Saigon qua “tần số nội bộ”, xin được chiếc “Jolly Green” CH-53, Sikorsky từ bên Thái Lan (Đệ Thất Không Lực Hoa Kỳ), ông ta liên lạc thẳng với bộ tư lệnh MACV... và chiếc trực thăng khổng lồ, Jolly Green phải quay trở về Thái Lan.
Chuyện xẩy ra trước đó khoảng hai tuần lễ, khi một sĩ quan cao cấp trong bộ tư lệnh sư đoàn, ra lệnh cho đơn vị SOG hoàn trả lại phi đoàn trực thăng đang biệt phái cho bộ chỉ huy Bắc (CCN). Điều này không thể được, đúng lúc đó các toán biệt kích SOG đang chiến đấu cho mạng sống của họ trên đất Lào. Đại tá Pezzelle nói rằng, viên sĩ quan Lục Quân không hiểu thế nào là Chiến Tranh Ngoại Lệ.
Mặc dầu đại tướng Creighton Abrams tư lệnh Quân Lực Hoa Kỳ tại Việt Nam (MACV, lên thay tướng Westmoreland) đã ra lệnh, sư đoàn Bộ Binh (có thể là sư đoàn 101 Nhẩy Dù, hoặc TQLC/HK) phải cung cấp trực thăng cho đơn vị SOG. Nhưng viên sĩ quan Bộ Binh cao cấp biết đi đường vòng. Đại tá đơn vị SOG Pezzelle nói rằng “Họ có nhiều cách để từ chối, viện lý do này, lý do nọ... Trực thăng không có sẵn... Chúng tôi gặp trở ngại trong vấn đề bảo trì... Nhiều trực thăng bị trúng đạn rơi, hoặc hư hại...”
Đại tá Pezzelle cùng với vị chỉ huy trưởng đơn vị SOG đã nhiều lần lên gặp tướng Abrams, trình bầy vấn đề... Nhưng tướng Abrams chỉ muốn đơn vị SOG “tự giải quyết” vấn đề!
Kết qủa việc tranh chấp này đưa đến “thảm họa” ngày 4 tháng Sáu năm 1971 nơi đài tiếp vận Hickory. Cavaiani cùng với Jones cứ đưa mắt nhìn lên trời, mong đợi trực thăng đến di tản, nhưng trực thăng sẽ không bao giờ đến nữa. Lúc trời sắp tối, Cavaiani trao máy truyền tin cho Jones rồi đi một vòng quan sát, tổ chức vấn đề phòng thủ. Đài tiếp vận có hình dáng như cái “yên ngựa”, đỉnh cao hai bên, chỗ trũng ở giữa là bãi đáp trực thăng. Không đủ người phòng thủ, Cavaiani ra lệnh rút lên phòng thủ đỉnh núi phiá bắc.
Đến 7:00 giờ tối, mặt trời đã khuất sau ngọn núi Cơ Rốc, bầu trời trở nên đen tối với lớp sương bao phủ đài tiếp vận Hickory. Một phi cơ AC-119 Stinger (Hỏa Long) thuộc Không Lực Hoa Kỳ lên bao vùng. Tiếp theo là tiếng nổ lớn của qủa mìn phòng thủ, rồi bóng đêm trở lại với sự im lặng của tử thần. Phi cơ AC-119 không thể tác xạ được vì lớp sương che phủ quá dầy, không nhìn rõ ở dưới.
Độ nửa tiếng đồng hồ sau, những toán lính Bắc Việt bắt đầu di chuyển vào bãi đáp trực thăng. Đơn vị phòng thủ bắn xuống, nhưng quân Bắc Việt chỉ khựng lại ít lâu, rồi tiếp tục tiến băng qua bãi đáp, áp sát vào chân đỉnh núi phiá bắc. Cavaiani ra lệnh tất cả lui vào bên trong pháo đài. Khi các biệt kích quân Thượng vừa lui, địch quân tấn công, một viên đạn AK-47 trúng sớt qua lưng Cavaiani, nhưng vết thương không nặng.
Vào bên trong pháo đài, Cavaiani yêu cầu phi cơ AC-119 oanh kích ngay trên đầu toán quân biệt kích vì lính Bắc Việt đã bao vây tràn ngập, và các biệt kích quân đã vào bên trong pháo đài kiên cố. Nhưng viên phi công từ chối vì lý do an toàn cho quân bạn. Cavaiani yêu cầu thêm lần nữa, xin hoàn toàn chịu trách nhiệm, nhưng viên phi công AC-119 vẫn từ chối.
Lính Bắc Việt đi từng căn hầm ném lựu đạn vào. Một qủa lựu đạn rơi vào trong pháo đài, nơi những biệt kích quân còn lại đang tử thủ, nổ dữ dội làm Jones bị thương nặng. Anh ta nói với Cavaiani, “Đủ rồi Jon, tôi ra đầu hàng”. Nói xong Jones bò ra khỏi căn hầm, rồi một loạt đạn AK-47 nổ vang, Jones rơi trở vào bên trong, chết. Thêm một qủa lựu đạn nữa ném vào trong hầm, sức ép làm Cavaiani bất tỉnh.
Đến khi Cavaiani tỉnh lại, trong bóng tối đen như mực, anh ta biết mình bị thêm một vết thương nơi chân, và hai lỗ tai chẩy máu vì sức ép qủa lựu đạn. Quân Bắc Việt đã rút đi, Cavaiani gượng đứng dậy lết ra khỏi đài tiếp vận hoang tàn đổ nát, từ từ đi xuống núi, ra khỏi rặng núi Cơ Rốc.
Cứ như thế, trong mười ngày kế tiếp, Cavaiani vừa bò, vừa lết đến căn cứ hỏa lực Fuller, đơn vị bạn gần nhất. Lúc đó gần 3:00 giờ sáng, anh ta kiệt sức, định ngủ một giấc, đợi đến sáng mới vào căn cứ trình diện (cho an toàn, sợ bị bắn lầm). Mờ sáng hôm sau, năm người lính Bắc Việt dí mũi súng AK vào lưng Cavaiani dẫn đi... qua Lào trở thành tù binh.
Quân đội Bắc Việt dùng xe vận tải chở Cavaiani, hai biệt kích Thượng và một người thông ngôn đến Vinh, rồi từ đó lên xe lửa ra Hà Nội. Đến tháng Ba năm 1973, Cavaiani được trao trả trong chương trình “Trở Về” (Homecoming). Anh ta được ân thưởng huy chương Danh Dự (Medal of Honor) năm 1974.
Theo tài liệu: http://www.macvsog.cc/jon_cavaiani_&_fall_of_hickory.htm
Dallas, TX. May 15, 2010
vđh
President Gerald Ford presents Sgt. Jon Cavaiani with the Medal of Honor in the East Room of the White House in Washington, D.C. December 12, 1974
There are Medals and There are Medals.....Profile on Columbia Medal of Honor Recipient, Jon Cavaiani~by Victor Claveau
In my opinion, the award winning movie, Saving Private Ryan was an extraordinarily realistic portrayal of the ravages of war. Saving Private Ryan was not simply a movie, a work of fiction set in a time of tremendous international turmoil; it was a tour-de-force. The movie showed most graphically the cost of war in maimed bodies and lost lives. No one who goes into combat returns home the same person; each carries physical and/or psychological scars for the rest of their lives. Taking the life of another human being, no matter how justifiable, is a most traumatic experience, resulting in a permanent searing of the memory. Time may dull, but the memory can never be completely erased. ....
It was my distinct honor to meet with Sergeant Major Cavaiani at Greenhorn Creek, in Angels Camp, California, where he is employed as a golf marshal. He was standing by the fireplace when I approached and saluted. He solemnly returned the salute and offered his hand.
[Note: It is a widely-believed myth that in the United States military all personnel are required to initiate a salute to a Medal of Honor recipient, regardless of rank. Nothing in United States military regulations relates specifically to the Medal of Honor except for its order of precedence on the uniform. Custom, however, does dictate that it is customary for all ranks to render a salute to a recipient, regardless of the recipient's rank.]
Sergeant Major Cavaiani and I spoke for about an hour and he briefly recounted how he became a Medic in the Army’s elite Special Forces and eventually found himself in Viet Nam.
In his own words, "My last assignment before being captured was as a commander of a radio relay site in north-west Vietnam. Khe Sahn Airfield was to the west, seven kilometers from Laos. North Vietnam border was 11 kilometers north, and Camp Fuller was 32 kilometers east-northeast. It was the most northwest camp in South Vietnam.
"On June 4, 1971, the relay site was attacked by a reinforced regiment of NVA regulars. We fought the enemy through the night. Finally, on the morning of June 5th, I told my men that I would cover their withdrawal. I was forced to escape and evade for 10 days, only to be captured outside the wires at Camp Fuller. From that day forward, the enemy, in their own way, gave me the will to survive, to resist their ideas and their belief that what they were doing was right. This, in turn, strengthened my conviction that I was right in being in Vietnam.
“As a prisoner I was to meet some of the most heroic men I have ever or will ever hope to encounter. Men who never let their country or families down. Well by God, regardless of what some people said about the war, we did our jobs as men and kept the faith in our President and country.
“I thank God and my country for letting me come back to see my daughters again. And I say, with great pride, God Bless America."
He spoke of his capture, and incarceration; first for a few days in “The Zoo”, then of almost two years in “The Plantation”, and finally the “Hanoi Hilton” where he was sent just prior to his release. These prisons will be forever remembered as places where men were brutally degraded and tortured mercilessly. He weighed 198 pounds when captured and 92 when released. For more information about these POW camps in North Vietnam go to: http://www.ojc.org/powforum/powcamps.htm. In addition, there are numerous websites on the subject. We must never forget the sacrifices of these men and the brutality they daily endured.
When Army officials asked Cavaiani what he wanted to do upon his release as a POW, he told them that he wanted to go back into training and remain in Special Forces. He put on the weight, got back into shape and attended refresher courses, including High Altitude Low Opening (HALO) parachute training. Eventually, he was assigned to the 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta (1st SFOD-D) — commonly known as Delta in the U.S. Army, and Delta Force by civilians. Delta members are on call 24-7 to handle special missions; primarily counterterrorism, counterinsurgency and national intervention operations.
I asked if he had been called into action while in Delta, and he simply said “Yes” and said no more about it. I knew enough not to pry.
For more on Delta go to: http://www.specialoperations.com/Army/Delta_Force/
Receiving the MOH is somewhat of a two-edged sword. Cavaiani was not always welcomed in his future assignments because of his notoriety. Some Commanding Officers would rather not have to put up with the inherent publicity. Much of his time was spent in providing lectures about his experiences, and he continues along this path today.
I was a bit hesitant to ask him to recount the circumstances that led to his heroic actions, capture, and eventual return home, but some of what I read about his on various Internet sites was contradictory and I desired clarification. He suggested that I would find an accurate account in SOG: The Secret Wars of America’s Commandos in Viet Nam by Maj. John L. Plaster, USA (Ret.), Simon & Schuster, 1997, pp. 325- 330. * (See endnote). The text of which follows:
In Vietnam’s entire northwest region, the last burr under the NVA’s saddle was a CCN [Command and Control North] radio relay site, Outpost Hickory, situated on a peak 2½ miles north of Khe Sanh. The closest friendlies were at Firebases Fuller and Carroll, 20 miles east of there.
Although ostensibly only a radio relay site, Hickory’s greatest utility was as a secret NSA radio monitoring post, using state-of-the-art automated equipment to intercept enemy radio traffic.
Just 29 yards wide and 73 yards long, Hickory was held by twenty-seven U.S. and sixty-seven indigenous soldiers, including SOG [Studies and Observations Group] men, sensor readers and a squad from L Company, 75th Rangers. The site was commanded by CCN Staff Sergeant Jon Cavaiani, who, despite being outranked by several Americans, led the Montagnard** security platoon, assisted by Sergeant John Jones.
That Hickory was threatened came as no surprise. For weeks Saigon analysts electronically tracked units closing in on the little base so closely that Lieutenant Colonel Mike Radke finally announced an assault was imminent. “I said seventy-two hours and it was hit within twenty-four,” he recalled. Due to it valuable radio intercept role, SOG planned to hold Hickory until it became untenable.
At dawn on 4 June a security man pointed to something odd in Hickory’s concertina wire. Looking closely, Cavaiani realized it was a Chinese claymore mine and noticed ten more all along the perimeter, planted the previous night during a blinding downpour. Cavaiani grabbed an M-60 machine gun and began knocking down the mines with gunfire, disabling six, then—KABOOM!—one mine detonated, wounding several men, then—KABOOM!—another mine exploded, wounding more men, including John Jones, slightly.
The NVA’s intended effect fizzles, and a simultaneous ground assault never materialized, though 60 yards downhill, several dug-in enemy fired sporadically. Scrambling to a .50-caliber machine gun, Cavaiani let loose a furious fusillade, matched by fire from other defenders just as the NVA launched a mortar and RPG [Rocket propelled grenade] barrage. A few more defenders suffered shrapnel wounds.
While a pair of F-4 Phantoms bombed the entrenched NVA, a young American sensor reader named Walter Milsap climbed into the .50 caliber’s bunker with Cavaiani, who took one look at his pudgy frame and thick glasses and asked what he wanted. “I came up here to take over the .50 cal.,” he said. “There are a lot of guys roaming around like they don’t know what to do.” He was right—Cavaiani had to lead the defense, not fight it all alone.
Cavaiani put a Yard [Montagnard] with Milsap and took off to reposition men, redistribute ammo and secure the wounded, which by now numbered more than a dozen. When an RPG rocked the .50 caliber’s position, Cavaiani looked up to see the wounded Milsap drag the gun back. For a moment the sensor reader thought he was blind but then learned the RPG only had damaged his glasses. He resumed firing.
Another RPG hit a U.S. Captain. With Milsap’s supporting fire, Cavaiani carried the officer across the helipad to an ARVN medic. Then another mortar barrage shook Hickory, and a sniper in a spider hole opened fire only to b shot dead by Cavaiani. More Americans, Yards and Vietnamese were hit by shrapnel.
The situation seemed to have become untenable, so Cavaiani called for an evacuation, which began early that afternoon.
Cavaiani carried the wounded captain to a HUEY and told him Milsap had knocked our five NVA machine guns and exposed himself to a lot of fire, so Cavaiani had hastily written him up for the Medal of Honor; he wanted the captain to carry the recommendation back to Danang (Milsap received the Distnguished Service Cross). Cavaiani then hustled Milsap and as many others as he could squeeze aboard onto another helicopter. After it lifted away, there stood Milsap grinning, claiming he’d fallen out.
With Milsap’s and Jones’ help, Cavaiani began scuttling gear so they all could leave in the next helicopter lift. He was careful to destroy the NSA van and its top-secret radio intercept gear.
Except for an occasional mortar round, the action had ebbed by 4:30 p.m. when Cavaiani heard a Huey coming in and received a shocking radio message: “This is the last ship. Get on it.” The Huey had room for seven passengers, he protested, he had four times that many men! Never before had a SOG American abandoned his indigenous soldiers, and Cavaiani was not about to be the first. He put Milsap aboard the Huey along with six Yards and waived the off.
With that last load he’s evacuated sixty-nine men—fifteen of them wounded—leaving nineteen Yards, four Vietnamese, the slightly wounded John Jones and himself. Cavaiani couldn’t understand what was happening: It wasn’t even 5 p.m., the sky was clear and SOG couldn’t get helicopters? It didn’t make sense.
But all was not lost. A Thailand-based USAF Jolly Green was enroute to Hickory to extract Cavaiani and his men. But when the big Sikorsky was 7 miles away the pilot radioed, “I just got told that I will get court-martialed if I don’t turn this bird around.”
It was a bureaucratic pissing contest, instigated by a senior officer of the U.S. division then providing helicopter support to SOG. Not only had he terminated Huey support at 5 p.m., but when he learned SOG had gone through its own channels to get the Jolly Green, he’d contacted MACV [Military Assistance Command, Vietnam] headquarters and had the Seventh Air Force turn the Thailand-based aircraft around.
The contest had begun two weeks earlier, when the senior officer suddenly demanded that his division’s helicopters supporting CCN be returned—impossible because recon men were that moment locked in a firefight, their lives on the line. Colonel Pezzelle said the officer “apparently didn’t think much of unconventional warfare.”
Although General Abrams formally ordered the U.S. division to provide SOG with helicopter support, the officer found ways around it, Pezzelle explained. “Without just refusing the order they could say, ‘Well, the helicopters aren’t available,’ we’ve got maintenance problems, etc., etc.,’ or ‘We had too many shot up or this or that and the other thing.’ And then they would show up with fewer than necessary and they’d come late. That was their way of fighting the requirement.”
Colonel Pezzelle and Chief SOG went to Abrams several times, “but there was a reluctance, apparently,” to enforce compliance, And Abrams expected SOG to solve its own problems.
It was an arrangement courting disaster, which came on 4 June, 1971, at Outpost Hickory, where Cavaiani and Jones kept looking to the sky for evacuation birds, but none appeared. Realizing they were on their own with night fast approaching, Cavaiani had Jones take the radio, while he stood atop a bunker, surveying what could be done to improve defenses.
Shaped like an hourglass, with the helipad in its narrow neck, Hickory straddled a slightly rising ridgeline with deep drop-offs of the sides. Cavaiani decided to abandon the lower half, concentrating his men on the higher, north half so they could shoot downhill as the enemy came across the open helipad. To slow the NVA, he placed on the helipad a bobby-trapped 4.2-inch mortar shell that would explode when touched.
From the outhouse he dragged the washtub-size honey bucket and cut a shooting port, then hid a Yard machine-gunner there behind sandbags. Next he positioned two more machine guns to provide cross fire on the helipad, then he built a little firing position for himself atop a bunker so he could see over the pad.
About 7 p.m. the sun sank below Co Roc Mountain, and as it got dark a thick fog rolled over Hickory, just as a USAF AC-119 Stinger gunship arrived. An hour later came the first probes—the booby-trapped mortar exploded and several NVA cried out and fell back. The cloud was so dense that the Stinger couldn’t fire.
It was quiet for an hour and a half.
Then fifteen NVA rushed onto the helipad, right into the intersecting fire of the three machine guns; by the time they saw the muzzle flashes, they were dead. Ten minutes later came another fifteen NVA, with the same result—then another fifteen. Eight times they stormed the helipad, and each time the SOG defenders mowed them down, until just after midnight the enemy pulled back to reconsider.
Cavaiani discerned the NVA were about to launch a mass assault, so he shifted his men into Hickory’s heaviest bunkers—but the NVA struck while the Yards were pulling back, and in the confusion dozens of enemy stormed over the helipad and across Hickory. Standing atop a bunker, Cavaiani fired a few rounds, then realized he was exposed and bent over to get down. An AK slug hit the small of his back, tearing flesh almost to his shoulder, knocking him to the ground. He rolled into a bunker with John Jones and radioed the Stinger, “I’ve got eighty to a hundred people in the open. My people are all under cover, come in from the northeast to the southwest.” Fearing friendly casualties, the pilot refused. Cavaiani again called for a gun run, this time giving his initials. “If you don’t know what my initials mean, it means I accept full responsibility for this fire mission—Fire! But the gunship would not fire.
By now, NVA could be heard going bunker to bunker, shooting and tossing grenades. Any second, they’d find the two Americans.
Cavaiani pulled his Gerber Mk II fighting knife and announced, “Anybody comes through the door, I’ll take him.” As quickly, two NVA climbed in, one with a flashlight and his rifle slung over his back, the second, his rifle at the ready; Cavaiani seized the second NVA’s hair and jammed his dagger up through his chin, killing him, then Jones shot the other NVA, rolled out the door, screamed and collapsed.
Momentarily a hand grenade bounced in, wounded Jones seriously and all but deafened Cavaiani. Too badly injured to resist further, Jones announced, “Jon, I’m going to surrender,” and climbed out. An NVA soldier yelled, an AK fired and Jones tumbled back in, dead.
Then another grenade fell into the bunker and exploded and knocked Cavaiani unconscious, also destroying his radio.
When he groped back into consciousness it was still dark but he could feel a fresh leg wound and blood flowing from his ears. At the sight of flickering flashlights, he played dead, leaving his eyes wide open and unblinking while an NVA prodded his chest with an AK. Satisfied, the NVA pulled out a cigarette lighter and set the bunker’s tar paper ceiling afire, then went outside with other NVA to watch the flames.
Hot tar dripped on Cavaiani’s face and his pants caught fire, but he dared not move, the torture was excruciating. Finally he decided, “I’m gonna John Wayne these bastards,” and tried to jump to his feet, but rubble had collapsed on him, and he had to squeeze and heave to free himself. The NVA soldiers had walked away.
Exhausted, he stumbled out the door just as a slug cooked off from a burning machine gun. The round grazed his head and knocked him out. When he awoke the bunker was burned out, it was pitch black and he could hear the enemy looking Hickory. Gooey, burned skin hung from his fingers.
When a rummaging NVA almost stepped on him, Cavaiani pulled his final weapon, the Gerber knife, and slammed it so hard into the man’s chest that he couldn’t extract it, only pulled burned skin from his hand. Just before dawn he crawled through the wire, slid down a cliff face and evaded toward Firebase Fuller.
For ten days Cavaiani stumbled, crawled and dragged himself eastward before reaching Firebase Fuller one morning at 3 a.m. He decided to sleep and wait until dawn to approach the wire. At sunrise he stood and an old man stuck a bolt-action rifle in his back; momentarily five more Communists appeared, and Cavaiani was on his way to Laos, a POW.
The NVA beat Cavaiani severely, trying to learn what he knew of the NSA van; he maintained he was only an NCO and not privy to whatever secrets the mysterious van possessed.
Eventually the NVA trucked him, two surviving Yards and his Vietnamese interpreter to Vinh, where he boarded a train for Hanoi. When they arrived, Cavaiani’s interpreter dropped all pretense of being a fellow prisoner and proudly donned the uniform of an NVA intelligence officer—he was an enemy mole!
The North Vietnamese did not admit to capturing Cavaiani for a year. Then in March 1973, he was released with other U.S. POWs. For his determined, selfless defense of Hickory, Cavaiani was awarded the Medal of Honor in 1974.
After the Hickory helicopter fiasco, SOG reassigned its own 20th SOS Green Hornet Hueys to CCN. Never again would a SOG man be abandoned due to institutional or personal vanities.
Official Citation
“Rank and organization: Staff Sergeant, U.S. Army, Vietnam Training Advisory Group, Republic of Vietnam. Place and date: Republic of Vietnam, 4 and 5 June 1971. Entered service at: Fresno, Calif. Born: 2 August 1943, Murphys, Ireland. Citation: S/Sgt. Cavaiani distinguished himself by conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of life above and beyond the call of duty in action in the Republic of Vietnam on 4 and 5 June 1971 while serving as a platoon leader to a security platoon providing security for an isolated radio relay site located within enemy-held territory. On the morning of 4 June 1971, the entire camp came under an intense barrage of enemy small arms, automatic weapons, rocket-propelled grenade and mortar fire from a superior size enemy force. S/Sgt. Cavaiani acted with complete disregard for his personal safety as he repeatedly exposed himself to heavy enemy fire in order to move about the camp's perimeter directing the platoon's fire and rallying the platoon in a desperate fight for survival. S/Sgt. Cavaiani also returned heavy suppressive fire upon the assaulting enemy force during this period with a variety of weapons. When the entire platoon was to be evacuated, S/Sgt. Cavaiani unhesitatingly volunteered to remain on the ground and direct the helicopters into the landing zone. S/Sgt. Cavaiani was able to direct the first three helicopters in evacuating a major portion of the platoon. Due to intense increase in enemy fire, S/Sgt. Cavaiani was forced to remain at the camp overnight where he calmly directed the remaining platoon members in strengthening their defenses. On the morning of 5 June, a heavy ground fog restricted visibility. The superior size enemy force launched a major ground attack in an attempt to completely annihilate the remaining small force. The enemy force advanced in two ranks, first firing a heavy volume of small arms automatic weapons and rocket-propelled grenade fire while the second rank continuously threw a steady barrage of hand grenades at the beleaguered force. S/Sgt. Cavaiani returned a heavy barrage of small arms and hand grenade fire on the assaulting enemy force but was unable to slow them down. He ordered the remaining platoon members to attempt to escape while he provided them with cover fire. With one last courageous exertion, S/Sgt. Cavaiani recovered a machine gun, stood up, completely exposing himself to the heavy enemy fire directed at him, and began firing the machine gun in a sweeping motion along the two ranks of advancing enemy soldiers. Through S/Sgt. Cavaiani's valiant efforts with complete disregard for his safety, the majority of the remaining platoon members were able to escape. While inflicting severe losses on the advancing enemy force, S/Sgt. Cavaiani was wounded numerous times. S/Sgt. Cavaiani's conspicuous gallantry, extraordinary heroism and intrepidity at the risk of his life, above and beyond the call of duty, were in keeping with the highest traditions of the military service and reflect great credit upon himself and the U.S. Army.
Special Forces Creed
I am an American Special Forces soldier. A professional! I will do all that my nation requires of me. I am a volunteer, knowing well the hazards of my profession. I serve with the memory of those who have gone before me: Roger's Rangers, Francis Marion, Mosby's Rangers, the first Special Service Forces and Ranger Battalions of World War II, the Airborne Ranger Companies of Korea. I pledge to uphold the honor and integrity of all I am - in all I do.
I am a professional soldier. I will teach and fight wherever my nation requires. I will strive always, to excel in every art and artifice of war.
I know that I will be called upon to perform tasks in isolation, far from familiar faces and voices, with the help and guidance of my God.
I will keep my mind and body clean, alert and strong, for this is my debt to those who depend upon me.
I will not fail those with whom I serve.
I will not bring shame upon myself or the forces.
I will maintain myself, my arms, and my equipment in an immaculate state as befits a Special Forces soldier.
I will never surrender though I be the last. If I am taken, I pray that I may have the strength to spit upon my enemy.
My goal is to succeed in any mission - and live to succeed again.
I am a member of my nation's chosen soldiery. God grant that I may not be found wanting, that I will not fail this sacred trust.
De Opresso Liber!
* “SOG was the most secret elite U.S. Military unit to serve in the war in Vietnam, so secret it was “black”—meaning its very existence was carefully concealed, even denied by the government. Innocuously code named the Studies and Observations Group, SOG contained only volunteers from such elite units as the Army Green Berets, USAF Commandos, and Navy SEAL’s, and answered directly to the Pentagon’s Joint Chiefs, with some missions requiring approval from the White House. Inside Vietnam, only General William Westmoreland and a few senior non-SOG officers were briefed on SOG activities.
SOG took on the most dangerous assignments, going behind enemy lines to penetrate North Vietnamese military facilities in Laos and Cambodia and along the heavily defended Ho Chi Minh Trail, where only air support — and sometimes no support at all — was available. Their numbers were small but SOG proved a formidable force, killing as many as 150 enemy soldiers for each SOG trooper lost. In one battle, perhaps the most lopsided in U.S. history, a 14-man SOG team fought off a mass attack by 2,000 enemy soldiers. SOG men also identified targets for B-52 bombers, launched daring missions to rescue downed U.S. pilots from behind enemy lines, and were responsible for counter-intelligence operations that ranged from sabotaging NVA ammunition to the elaborate “Project Humidor,” in which North Vietnamese fishermen were fooled into thinking they were collaborating with a secret patriotic league—whose members, in reality, were SOG operatives. With teams that seldom exceeded ten men, SOG tied down at least 40,000 enemy soldiers in Laos and Cambodia.
As colorful as they were heroic, the men of SOG were bound together by their dedication. Though few in number, they were awarded ten Medals of Honor and hundreds of Purple Hearts; their ranks included the Vietnam War’s most highly decorated American soldier [Staff Sergeant Joe R. Hooper]. Their stories, among the most extraordinary to come out of the Vietnam War, can now be told.”
(From the dust cover - SOG: The Secret Wars of America’s Commandos in Viet Nam).
** The Degar (referred to by French colonists as Montagnard) are the indigenous peoples of the Central Highlands of Vietnam. The term Montagnard means "mountain people" in French and is a carryover from the French colonial period in Vietnam. In Vietnamese, they are known by the term thượng (highlanders) - this term can also be applied to other minority ethnic groups in Vietnam). Montagnard was the term, typically shortened to "Yard", used by U.S. military personnel in the Central Highlands during the Vietnam War. However the term has been viewed as derogatory and the official term is now Người dân tộc thiếu số (literally means minority people).
The Degar population once numbered over three million under French colonialism. Vietnam’s largest minority, organized along tribal lines somewhat like American Indians: The Jarai, Rhade, Sedang, and Bru. Each has a distinct culture, history, and homeland. Some tribes boasted a written language and Christian religion, while others were nomadic hunters and foragers who well into the 1960’s used crossbows. Each Montagnard tribe hand-wove cloth for sarongs and loincloths in its own unique pattern, somewhat as the Scottish clans did their tartans. Apart from their loincloths and brass-ring jewelry, Montagnards also could be distinguished from ethnic Vietnamese by their darker skin and stockier builds. Today there are only a few hundred thousand survivors who inhabit Central Vietnam.
To learn more about the courageous Degar people and the sufferings they continue to endure under the Communist government of Vietnam go to: http://www.montagnard-foundation.org/homepage.html and http://www.montagnard-foundation.org/about-degar.html
Written by Staff Writer, Victor Claveau
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