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Sitting in the middle of the Tra Bong River, just south of Chu Lai, a Marine AMTRAK with a squad of Army riflemen, guard a team of 71's  divers below . . . that was unti Zip . . . Zip . . .  Zip . . .  we began taking rounds from ashore.

Sitting in the middle of the River . . . we began taking fire from the shore . . .

Excerpt from the book: Seabee71 in Chu Lai

     The Army guys on both AMTRAKs opened up with M-16s. The Amtrak closer to shore was fully engaged in returning fire, but, no one really knew where the fire had coming from, just someplace over there in the trees.

     Then silence, while everyone paused to reload.

     By then, I’d managed to get my .45 Colt out of its holster and was struggling to get a round in the chamber.  My piece was clean and oiled, but the ammo had sat in the magazine for months and was a bit dirty, I’ll admit.  While everyone was occupied reloading, I got a round chambered, and began firing in the general direction as had the others. The only sound now was the popping off of my pistol . . . then laughter. The men on my AMTRAK busted a gut over the Journalist and his totally unprofessional gunnery.

     “Hey, Journalist!” One of them shouted,  “Shoot pictures. We’ll do the real shooting,” and they opened up again. A few minutes later the three divers appeared along side the AMTRAK. They’d seen empty shell castings stream down from above, and knew something was afoot.                                   

      My story and photographs appeared as a center spread in Stars and Stripes later that month. we never did find the missing patrol.

The Army needed our help.

     “We have a squad of Marines missing in action.” Said the Army Captain on the phone to our Operations S-3, LCDR Martin. “We need divers to sweep the river bottom.” They wanted their men back, dead or alive.  Seventy-One was the only unit in Chu Lai a UCT (Underwater Construction Team). Chief Hayes and his 2 Third Class divers were all commercially certified.  It was August when we got request.     

     Our Navy Team, Lieutenant Smith, this Journalist, and our three divers drifted down the river on a Marine AMTRAK (Amphibious Tractor, Personnel) LVTP-5A1. A second AMTRAK shadowed us, drifting along the edge of the river, while we were out in the middle, sitting ducks.

     A squad of Army riflemen were along to provide cover.  We all sat atop the AMTRAK, its decks hot enough to fry eggs—the men poured helmets full of river water over themselves and the decks to cool off. We broke our C-rations, drank from our canteen and waited. The divers came up, we moved down river, reset the anchor, and began the process all over again.

     The divers went down, and the men on top began dumping helmets full of water on each other. Then . . . . zip . . .  zip . . . zip . . . we began taking fire from the shore. At first I didn’t know what all the fuss was about. Then I saw, and heard, bullets were making zipping noises in the water around the AMTRAKs. Then, a round ricocheted off the AMTRAK’s hull and went whining off into the distance. Zip, zip, zip, more rounds splashed into the water around us. In less than a second, the Marine Corporal had armed his M60 and was hosing down the shore line.