Operation Crazy Horse

It began almost by accident. It was early May of 1966 when patrols of the South Vietnamese Civilian Irregular Defense Groups led by American Special Forces advisors found themselves encountering unusually large enemy formations flooding into their area of operations in the Vinh Thanh Valley.

Enemy documents captured by the American led CIDG indicated that several main force NVA units were converging in the valley for a possible attack on the local Special Forces Camp. The enemy forces gathering in the valley were apparently survivors of units that had been badly mauled by the 1st Air Cav's recent operations of Masher/Whitewing and Davy Crockett.

The NVA's plan was to marshall their forces, lick their wounds and attack the lightly defended Special Forces Camp which they figured would be easy pickings. A quick victory would be a good morale booster for the enemy soldiers who had been suffering defeat after defeat in their recent encounters with the troopers of the 1st Air Cav.

The captured enemy documents provided a windfall to the Top Brass of the 1st Air Cavalry. Armed with accurate knowledge of enemy unit locations and dispositions it appeared to be a great opportunity to flex some airmobile muscle .The paratroopers of the 1st ( All the Way ) Brigade were to lead the attack into the Valley.

The first unit to assault into the area was B Company, 2/8th (Abn) . Upon landing they immediately made contact with a large enemy force and although surrounded and outnumbered the paratroopers fought the enemy to a bloody standstill. This was to be the first of many vicious battles and cruel ambushes that rolled back and forth across the Vinh Thanh valley for 21 grueling days. During the operation the troopers of
the Air Cav killed over 500 enemy soldiers and wounded several times that number. Upon conclusion of Operation Crazy Horse the newly appointed Division Commander of the 1st Air Cavalry Major General John Norton remarked "Operation Crazy Horse was started by mistake ....the enemies, not ours ". (Right, Major General John Norton)

LZ Hereford
by Ed Polonitza

After a brutal month of combat in the Central Highlands of Binh Dinh Province, the paratroopers of A Company, 2nd Battalion, 8th Cavalry returned to the 1st Cavalry Division base camp at An Khe on March 5, 1966. For the soldiers of A Company , this respite offered an opportunity to rest without having to be constantly vigilant, to clean and replace equipment, to eat something other than c-rations and to remember our comrades who did not return with us.

(left, Ed Polonitza)

During the past February, we had operated east of our An Khe base camp, crushing some North Vietnamese units attempting to penetrate towards the coastal cities along the South China Sea. After our short break, we turned our attention to the west, towards the Cambodian border. Throughout the war, the North Vietnamese army came south along the Ho Chi Minh trail turning east at various strategic locations to attack into South Vietnam. One of these locations was in the Chu Pong Mountain, Ia Drang Valley area where the 1st Cav had fought the first major battles of the war the previous fall.

(An Khe, home of the 1st Cav)

Although we were the most mobile combat unit in the history of warfare with over 400 helicopters at our disposal as well as our parachute capability, our movement west was by 2 1/2-ton truck. We left the An Khe base camp and traveled along Highway 19. This was the strategic route through the Central Highlands running from Pleiku in the west to Qui Nhon on the South China Sea. Not all of us realized that there was great historical significance to our journey west. On June 6, 1954, the French Mobile Group 100 followed this exact route. On that day, the French unit was ambushed and destroyed by overwhelming Viet Minh forces resulting in a devastating defeat for France. As we crossed through the Mang Yang Pass, Lieutenant Marty Stango, 1st Platoon leader, saw what he thought were hundreds of manhole covers dotting the terrain. He soon realized these were cylinders holding the remains of the French soldiers killed June 24, 1954 by elements of the Viet Minh 803rd Regiment. The actual ambush occurred approximately 15 kilometers west of the village at An Khe.

Some of us wondered why we had not just flown west in our helicopters. We grunts were not privy to the thinking of the division's senior commanders. We just did what we were told. Perhaps the thinking was to throw a challenge directly at the North Vietnamese infantry who undoubtedly lurked in the towering hills of the Mang Yang Pass as we drove through. We were frequently used as bait in attempts to lure the NVA out for a fight. In any event, the enemy chose not to disrupt our journey. Perhaps the helicopter gunships, aerial rocket artillery orbiting over us and the big guns of the 1st Cavalry artillery supporting us from An Khe had something to do with our safe passage.

We arrived without incident in the vicinity of Pleiku, the westernmost major city in the Central Highlands of Vietnam. Our first mission was to establish a forward operating base called LZ Oasis. This would become one of the largest American bases in the area and home for the 4th Infantry Division which would soon reinforce the 1st Cavalry Division.

(Big guns of the Air Cav at LZ Oasis)

One of the strategic tragedies of the War was our inability to take the fight with the enemy close to or into Cambodia. There was no reason for this other than we were forbidden to do so by Pentagon edict. As a result, every time we pounded the North Vietnamese they would scurry across the Cambodian border to lick their wounds. On this occasion however and for some unknown reason we were ordered to conduct combat operations along the Cambodian border. Our mission was to set up defensive positions and dig in. Again, we were put out as bait in an attempt to entice the North Vietnamese located to the west of us. Our defensive positions were established on a ridgeline which marked the border between the two countries.

(3rd Platoon jungle command post)
One of the realities of the war in Vietnam was that only very rarely was an officer above the rank of captain actually on the ground in a combat situation. As a result, crucial tactical and sometimes strategic decisions were made by the lieutenants and captains leading the rifle platoons and companies engaged with the enemy. My decisions were always driven by doing what was right in order to accomplish the mission and protecting the soldiers whose lives were entrusted to me. I am sure most of my fellow junior officers felt the same way. Sometimes however these priorities could conflict with the Pentagon imposed rules. So we did what we felt was right and didn't ask. Sitting astride the Cambodian border created a difficult dilemma. We could passively wait for the North Vietnamese to attack without notice or we could create a more tactically sound situation by placing observation posts and listening posts forward of our positions while running small reconnaissance patrols to the west. These latter options would result in penetrating the Cambodian border. We could request permission from higher headquarters to do this and probably be denied. Or we could just do it. Needless to say, Alpha Company soldiers did spend some time over the Cambodian border during our operations in the western provinces.

Extensive patrolling, numerous combat assaults and many minor skirmishes filled each day during the months of March and April. From the standpoint of the combat infantrymen of Alpha Company it was fairly routine. But the month of May 1966 would be anything but routine as we would once again be part of one of the most significant combat operations of the Vietnam War. We called it Operation Crazy Horse.

East of our base at An Khe lay a series of ridgelines and valleys running from north to south. At the foot of these ridgelines and valleys was Highway 19, the main route through the Central Highlands. During the war these valleys were a main infiltration route for the North Vietnamese Army. The Vinh Thanh Valley was the scene of many fierce battles between the NVA and the Sky Troopers of the 1st Cavalry Division. In an ironic twist, Vinh Thanh Valley was nicknamed "Happy Valley".

Operation Crazy Horse began on May 19, 1966. Patrols from the Special Forces camp in Vinh Thanh discovered enemy documents and equipment indicating a major attack on the camp was imminent. First Brigade of the 1st Cavalry Division airlifted into the valley with orders to destroy the enemy forces in the vicinity of Happy Valley.

(Right, Jungle listening post)

A Company deployed into the valley and my 3rd Platoon was temporarily attached to Delta Company and was assigned the mission of ambushing along the jungle trails which led from the northern end of the valley into the ridgelines above. We moved out on foot from the battalion command post located at the Special Forces Camp in the valley floor. Shortly before dusk, we found an ambush site. It was a small clearing along a recently used trail. Our plan was to establish an L-shaped ambush so that we could hit an enemy unit from both the flank and front. We established listening posts several hundred meters each way down the trail. The job of the listening post was to give us early warning of approaching enemy.

Although only a small unit, my platoon had more than adequate firepower to take on almost anything that would be moving down that trail. All of our riflemen were armed with M-16 rifles capable of fully automatic fire. We had two M-60 machine guns, which could deliver thousands of rounds into an enemy formation. Each of our three rifle squads had two grenadiers armed with M-79 grenade launchers capable of firing high explosive rounds up to 400 meters. We had hand grenades and claymore mines. These were electrically detonated mines loaded with hundreds of metal pellets which could rip through an enemy formation with devastating result.

As darkness approached, my Platoon Sergeant, James C. Lester, and I were doing a final check of our positions. We stood at the edge of the jungle looking into the clearing to insure our firing positions had complete coverage of the ambush site. Our listening posts prepared to move into position. Suddenly, we heard loud laughter and beams of light from the far end of our ambush. My first thought was that some of our guys were having a moment of insanity and had forgotten where they were. But then we saw two North Vietnamese soldiers walking right through our ambush site with flashlights on, talking loudly and laughing at their own jokes. They passed no more than 10 meters from where Sergeant Lester and I were standing. They obviously had no idea they were walking through 35 heavily armed paratroopers waiting to kill them. These were undoubtedly the luckiest soldiers in Vietnam at that moment as Sergeant Lester and I decided to let them pass with the hope of a bigger target later that night.

The night passed quietly. But just before dawn our left flank listening post reported movement coming towards them. Specialist Jim Rockwell who was manning this lp reported two enemy passing his position. When they entered the clearing, all hell broke loose. Our L-shaped ambush exploded with automatic fire from our machine guns and M-16s. One of the North Vietnamese soldiers was killed instantly and the other severely wounded. None of us knew whether these were the same two who walked through our ambush the night before but whoever they were, their luck had run out. Having compromised our position with the roar of gunfire, we quickly regrouped and moved back through the jungle, closing on the battalion command post later that morning.

One issue we had to deal with prior to closing out our ambush site was the wounded NVA soldier. Even though he was in bad shape, he could be a valuable intelligence resource. Additionally, the two enemy casualties had a number of documents which could also be critical. In order to expedite this situation, Specialist Mike Friedrichs and three others constructed a makeshift litter and hauled the wounded enemy to another friendly unit operating nearby. They in turn would take the prisoner to a helicopter landing zone for extraction to an interrogation area. Mike and his small group then rejoined us at a predetermined check point for the movement back to the battalion CP.

(Left, Specialist Mike Friedrichs)

My platoon along with the rest of A Company was then assigned as battalion Eagle Flight and security for the command post. Our sister units were conducting search and destroy missions in the mountains above us and in many cases fighting pitched battles with the North Vietnamese infantrymen swarming the hills. The battalion Eagle Flight mission required that we be a quick reaction force to reinforce any friendly units which might need help in overcoming enemy resistance. Supporting our Eagle Flight mission were six UH1 troop-carrying helicopters which we called "slicks", several helicopter gunships and an artillery battery co-located with the battalion CP.

The morning of May 21 started routinely enough. Father Rogers, the battalion chaplain, was saying Mass at the battalion command post area. The skies were overcast and a light rain fell. To the east and above us, Charley Company, 1st Battalion, 12th Cavalry conducted a combat assault into LZ Hereford. This was a small helicopter landing zone located in what we called a saddle. This is a terrain feature characterized by a lower area flanked by two hills. LZ Hereford was located right in the saddle. By definition this is an extremely precarious tactical area since an enemy force manning the high ground would have a significant advantage over troops located in the saddle. Upon landing at Hereford, Charley Company proceeded down the ridgelines towards the valley floor searching for NVA reported in that area.

The company's mortar platoon stayed at LZ Hereford to provide fire support to the advancing rifle platoons. From our position in the valley floor we could hear the thump of Charley Company's mortar firing in support of the company's advance. Later that morning clouds and fog began to roll in blocking our view of the mountaintops. Around noon the quiet in the valley was broken by the sound of automatic weapons fire echoing between the hills.. Frantic radio traffic told us that the mortar platoon on LZ Hereford was being attacked by an overwhelming enemy force firing down at them from the two hills above the saddle as well as by NVA infantry charging through the tall grass around the LZ.

(Eagle Flight To LZ Hereford)

Our company was immediately ordered to load up on the six Eagle Flight slicks sitting at the battalion CP and assault into LZ Hereford to reinforce the beleaguered mortar platoon. My 3rd Platoon was to be the lead element of A Company into the LZ. As each Huey could hold six infantrymen, my platoon would have the first lift of the six choppers. We quickly loaded up realizing we would be going into a hot LZ surrounded on two sides by high ground swarming with NVA machine gunners. I loaded into the first helicopter along with Staff Sergeant Isaac Guest and his rifle squad. The helicopter engines were roaring, the main rotor rotating fiercely. The pilot pointed towards the LZ which was now completely covered with fog. This poor visibility made it impossible to land on the LZ. Despite the noise from the helicopter engines we could hear the sounds of gunfire from Hereford. We sat on the choppers waiting for a break in the fog. Finally, the low hanging clouds parted briefly and we were in the air for the short flight to the LZ. Halfway up, the clouds closed again and our pilots had to turn back. Almost as soon as we approached the battalion area, the clouds parted once again. We turned back towards LZ Hereford.

Specialist Mike Friedrichs had recently rejoined 3rd Platoon after being seriously wounded during a February firefight. Sitting on the floor of the troop compartment of his slick, Mike recognized the pilot, a hispanic Major who had flown us on a number of previous combat assaults. From past experience, Mike learned to get a read on his level of anxiety by watching the veins on his neck. During this short flight, the pilot's veins were bulging from the side of his neck. "I knew we were in for something big" thought Mike as his chopper charged towards LZ Hereford.

(Inbound to Hereford)

As we approached the LZ, I was on one landing strut of the helicopter. Specialist Leonard Lawrence was on the other. Hereford was a small LZ so only one Huey at a time could land. So we needed to get out of the choppers fast so others could bring in the rest of our company as quickly as possible. I leaped into the LZ along with Specialist Lawrence. He landed on top of a dead American soldier, his M16 barrel twisted at a grotesque angle. Each helicopter followed in quick succession. Specialist Jim Rockwell rode in on the second Huey. He jumped into the mortar pit where three dead Cavalrymen had been killed while attempting to bring fire against the attackers. Specialist Juan Fernandez was the youngest soldier in the 3rd Platoon having celebrated his 18th birthday a few days before arriving in Vietnam the previous August. As he scrambled out of his slick and into the LZ all he could see was bodies lying everywhere. We quickly set up a hasty perimeter around the LZ but it was obvious we were too late. The enemy had fled moments before leaving behind the bodies of 16 dead American soldiers.

(Trooper Leonord Lawrence)

The remaining rifle platoons of A Company arrived at Hereford just behind us. At almost the same time, the remainder of C Company which had reversed itself and scrambled back to the LZ in a frantic attempt to help their mortar platoon approached the saddle area. Soon, five mortar platoon soldiers, all wounded, struggled back into our security perimeter. They had slipped down the side of the ridgeline to escape the enemy onslaught.

Captain Tom Forman, our company commander, quickly established control of the LZ. He told me to police up all the equipment we could from the dead and wounded. He calmly said, "They won't be needing it anymore." Among the items we found on the LZ were a number of crude North Vietnamese propaganda leaflets. These were primarily targeted at our black soldiers, making references to the Ku Klux Klan back home and such as that. Other than as an interesting curiosity, these had no effect.


As soon as the LZ was secured, we were ordered to pursue the enemy force that had attacked the mortar platoon. We moved west across the heavily jungled ridgeline where we felt the NVA had retreated. As we advanced, we saw that our artillery fire had been effective in pounding the fleeing enemy. Our trail was littered with dead bodies. One appeared to be much larger and in a different uniform than the typical North Vietnamese infantryman. We thought he may have been a Chinese advisor to the North Vietnamese. If so, his advisory duties had been terminated compliments of the 1st Cav artillery.

As night approached, Captain Forman directed us to pull into a tight defensive perimeter on a ridgetop overlooking the Vinh Thanh valley. We felt the enemy's presence as we dug in for the night. As night fell, a torrential rain began .The night was impossibly black with the heavy rain and cloud cover. My radio operator, Specialist Gary Mierzejewski , Platoon Sergeant Lester and myself were clustered a short distance behind our security perimeter. Around midnight, we heard peculiar tapping noises above the sound of the falling rain. At first , we didn't realize what this noise was. Then a small rock hit a tree not far from our position. We then knew we had North Vietnamese scouts crawling towards our position trying to draw fire to pinpoint our automatic weapons. Once they knew our strong points, they would attack around our machine guns and attempt to overrun our perimeter.

(Bobby Elkins ,Jim Rockwell and Machine Gunner Smitty)

Sergeant Lester and I had very little control over the situation at that point. We had only voice communications with our perimeter security and to attempt to move forward in the blinding rain would be impossible. We had to trust to the discipline and alertness of our forward positions. Our trust was well placed. Specialist Ansel Boyce manned a security position a few meters in front of us. A machine gunner, Boyce was also armed with a 45-caliber pistol. As we waited tensely, a single shot exploded from Boyce's pistol followed immediately by the low moan of a dying North Vietnamese scout. Soon a second shot fired by another machine gunner everybody called "Smitty" killed another scout. As we waited through that endless, miserable night the actions of these two brave troopers discouraged the NVA lurking around our perimeter from another attempt against us.


(Sergeant Garry Bowles)

As dawn broke, Sergeant Garry Bowles our senior company medic examined the bodies of the two dead enemy. They had fallen virtually on top of our perimeter. One had six pairs of what we called Ho Chi Minh sandals tied to his equipment. We felt these belonged to some of his other buddies probing barefoot around us during the night.

After another few days of chasing the North Vietnamese out of Happy Valley, Operation Crazy Horse ended. Although Crazy Horse was very successful with over 500 enemy killed, the paratroopers of Alpha Company went back to An Khe with mixed emotions. Had the clouds parted a few minutes earlier on May 21, we may have been able to save the lives of at least some of 16 Americans killed in action that day. To this day, Sergeant Louis Buckley Jr., a member of the Charley Company mortar platoon remains missing in action. Perhaps if we had arrived a few minutes earlier, Sergeant Buckley could have been saved from whatever unknown fate has befallen him.

In one of the ironies of that day, Sam Castan, a journalist for "Look" magazine was on LZ Hereford with the mortar platoon. He was killed while attempting to escape from the enemy assault. His pictures taken that day were published by Look magazine and recently in a book by Tim Page and Horst Faas called "Requiem". The book's description of that day notes ". . . that a few minutes later reinforcements arrived and the North Vietnamese withdrew . . . "