R.G.Cress "Sgt. E-5" "Grunt"

Thank you for visiting my home page. It deals with my personal experience in Vietnam and I am thankful to just have served my Country.  I entered the military in January 1970 and took Basic Training at Fort Bragg, NC.  After Basic I was assigned to Fort Polk, La. for Advanced Infantry Training.  After 8 more weeks of sweat and hell, I volunteered for the Non-Commissioned Officers Training School at Fort Benning, Ga.  Twelve more weeks of sweat and hell, then I graduated a Sergeant E-5 and was assigned back to Fort Polk, La. as an assistant Drill Instructor and learning how to teach men to follow orders under combat conditions.  After those 8 weeks were up, there was a short 2 week rest before going to Vietnam.  I arrived there in October, 1970 and was assigned to the 1st Calvary Division, 2nd of 7th.  Within 3 days I was in the jungles of Vietnam.  All the training I took could not touch what the real conditions were like.  No movie, books or even listening to men who had been there could touch the real thing.  How could such a beautiful jungle hide the deadliest 2 and 4 legged creatures known to man?  If the VC weren't bad enough, the snakes, scorpions, mosquitoes and the heat were a living hell.  How could we be expected to fight under such conditions?  Well, we did and did a pretty good job of it, considering all the circumstances. My outfit was assigned as Search and Destroy, (sometimes called Hunter/Killer Teams).  VC were located by reconnaissance patrols or air surveillance. Then they would report back to the CO, who in turn would assign my men to go out and eliminate them.  We were choppered out to the most remote parts of the jungle to carry out our missions, which was usually successful without any loss of my men, although we did have casualties. We did pretty good on the body count of VC.  Quite often, by surprise, we would encounter small bands of VC, on our way to a mission.  A firefight would take place, leaving several dead or wounded.  No training can prepare you for the thrill of battle.  It is unique in itself and leaves no room for error.  Several times bullets would rip through my clothing. I've seen hand grenades hurled straight toward me by the VC only to be saved by a singled strand of bamboo, which would deflect the grenade. My group of men was small, often 6 and sometimes 12 members. Smaller groups made less noise and were more effective with the element of surprise. Several times we were pinned down by enemy fire because we were outnumbered, only to be saved by helicopter gun ships who would fire up the area allowing us to escape and regroup.  Often our battles were within 20 yards, due to the thickness of the jungle and the bamboo that surrounded us.  Not much light was allowed to enter because of the thick canopy of vegetation, making the VC harder to see.  Often many were killed by luck (ours and not theirs) and nothing else as they could hide so easily, usually carrying nothing but their weapon and a small bag of ammo or rice.  We were brought food and water every 3 days by helicopter.  Our packs weighed close to 100 lbs when full.  I carried 9 qts. of water, 2 bandoleers (16 clips) of M16 ammo, 1 can of M60 ammo, 4 smoke grenades, 6 hand grenades, 2 claymore mines with wire, food, sleepwear, poncho, poncho liner, steel pot, and writing pads and pens.  The pack was so heavy, I had to put towels under the straps to keep from cutting into my shoulder.  We had to hump(walk) almost every day because it wasn't safe to remain in the same place for long.  Normally we walked 2 clicks (2000 meters), many times cutting through brush with machetes.  I lost 40 pounds during my stay there with the heat, humidity, and lots of walking, it wasn't hard to do. While serving in combat I was awarded the Bronze Star, Army Commendation Metal, and the Combat Infantry Badge (CIB). I was offered the rank of Staff Sergeant (E-6) to reup, but I figured I might not be as lucky on the second tour so I declined.  Finally in October 1971, I was able to return to the World (USA).  Saddened by what I saw in war was overshadowed by what I saw in the States.  With the riots and disrespect the soldiers received, it angered me because no one knows what we went through and they don't need to judge us by what they saw on TV.  We had no choice. We were fighting for our lives and what we thought was a stop of Communism. I chose to go and never regretted it once.  It has been 30 years and I remember it just like it was yesterday. Even the smallest details of a firefight are unforgettable.  I have not had a full 8 hours undisturbed sleep since returning home.  I developed such keen hearing and sight that I pick up on everything and have to sort it as safe or unsafe. If I was called to go again tomorrow, I would. A little older, a little heavier, but a whole lot wiser.  Maybe when the Big Team Leader in the sky calls me home, then I will rest in peace.

MY POEM