A Marine in Vietnam

Pvt. Robert Bellis (Uncle Bob)

I was born in Canandaigua, NY and was the fourth of five brothers. My father was a hired man on a dairy farm. He was a hard-working family man, who believed in education and honesty.

My family lived in the tenant house, no running water or central heat. It came from the hand pump for the house, an outhouse served its function, and the living room had a large black pot-belly stove for heating, and the kitchen had a wood-burning stove for cooking. Most of the rooms had electrical outlets. Dairy farms require working seven days a week with cows needing to be milked twice each day. Sunday was a restful day, only the morning and afternoon milking, no work between them.

***

So much for “white privilege”!

***
My uncle Bob had been a Marine in WW II and made the landing at Okinawa. Pvt Robert Bellis was an original member of G Company, 3rd Battalion, 29th Marine, Sixth Marine Division, when it landed on Okinawa April 1, 1945. Company G, 29th Marine Regiment were the first to bump heads with Sugar Loaf mound and the first to feel the heat of the interlocking fires.

By the end of its struggle to take Sugar Loaf, George Co would be down to 24 men of its original complement of 190 Marines.

Pvt Bellis was returned stateside after being found wounded with no identification, not knowing who was and where he lived. The concussion of the explosion that injured him had caused amnesia; he went to Farragut, ID, where months later his memory returned.

I have always held him in high regard.

Platoon Photo Photo

After twelve weeks of Parris Island SC boot camp and four weeks at Advanced Infantry Training at Camp Geiger, NC, I had learned there is the right way, the wrong way, and the Marine Corps way. I was assigned to Echo Company 2nd Battalion, 8th Marine Regiment, 2nd Division, Camp Lejeune, NC. By the time I arrived in Vietnam, I had been in the Corps for thirteen months. Including a six-month deployment to Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. My rank was Private First Class, and I was 18 years old. I was a 0311 and would spend twelve months in Vietnam and receive two Purple Hearts. I was with Hotel 2/3/3 and fought in the Cong Mountains, SW of Danang, Khe Sanh, the DMZ, Mutters Ridge, and extensively in the Leatherneck Square.

The reason I left active duty — you never quit being a Marine —  was I had realized the Vietnam War fighting was being done politicians and not by the Military.

I was offered OCS [Officer Candidate School], but I could not in good heart lead Marines UNLESS the country was fighting to win.

My Battalion in the one year in Vietnam had lost 174 KIA [Killed In Action] and 870 WIA [Wounded In Action].

Battle of Khe Sanh (Hill Fights)

The battle for Khe Sanh “Hill Battles” – Hill 881 North on May 3, 1967

About midnight, Echo started receiving incoming followed by an NVA attack. The NVA infiltrated into their lines, and before Echo knew what was happening, the enemy had shot and killed about 19 Marines. Then NVA put on Marine helmets and clothes and intermixed with the Marines in the dark just before daybreak. After the initial burst of gunfire, one hell of a battle erupted. During the struggle, in all the confusion, ‘Corpsman, Corpsman up, was called out.

The two Navy Corpsmen who answered the cry had been killed. It had been an NVA trooper, knowing this military call in English, who caused the unsuspecting Corpsman to be shot to death by the NVA as they came to give medical assistance to a fallen comrade, or so they thought. By daybreak, 30 Marines had died in Echo, and 40 others were wounded, and five more were missing. Dawn found Echo still pinned down.

As I recall, Lieutenant Colonel Delong told us Echo had been counter-attacked by an NVA Regiment at 0300, Lieutenant Colonel Delong, callsign Pygmalion 6, elected to reinforce Echo with elements of Fox and have Hotel flank Hill 881 North to the right, look around and come in on the NVA from the North. As we moved off our cover fire was indirect fire from supporting artillery and direct 106 RR fire from the Battalion CP, that was directed by Captain O’Brien. The direct fire was over the heads of Echo but to the West of where Hotel was to come in on the NVA. We made this long, hot march in column of platoons with my 1st Platoon in the lead and the company command group behind them. As we were leaving the perimeter, the supporting l06 RR battery fired short, and we took some casualties in our platoon. We stopped to medevac the wounded and continued the attack after a long delay. At this point, we were well behind schedule and facing dangerous jungle. With the command group behind 1st platoon, the march route took us through elephant grass into a very dense bush.

Many times we had to resort to machetes to cut our way through the thick tangle of foliage. For long periods we lost sight of the day sky in the stifling hot steam bath, thankful for the previous decision to abandon the heavy flack jackets. Though we were hot and thirsty, the Marines did not have to be told to conserve their water. There were no landing zones for resupply in this part of the jungle. As we moved around to the right under cover of the 106 RRs, other unit commanders asked for the fire be lifted as it was getting very close to friendly lines. Knowing that Hotel needed covering fire to move in unobserved on the NVA, Captain Madonna answered several calls to lift the 106 RR cover fire, from both his men and Echo, by pointing out the CP group was the closest to the impact zone. When 1st platoon closed the gap with the enemy, he called off the covering fire. The 106 RR platoon had done a superb job. Captain Madonna ordered Lieutenant Elliott to have his Marines fix bayonets for two reasons. The first was for the moral, bayonet charges stirs up in a Marine.

Secondly, with all the trouble we had been having with the M-16, he wanted to be sure his Marines had the best fighting chance he could give them if the weapon went sour again. I remember the chill I got when Lieutenant Elliott passed the word to “fix bayonets.” The fighting was mean and dirty when the NVA discovered us at their backdoors. Our attack was successful with Sergeant Ransbottom leading his squad in taking out an NVA bunker line that had Echo pinned down. We took six prisoners for which the Battalion Commander gave ten days in Bangkok to the Marines who caught them. In our surprise assault, we had 2 KIAs. As I recall there were also about 25 enemy KIA. The key to the attack was the stealth we were able to maintain helped by the 106 RR fire keeping NVA’s heads down. At 1500 it was declared the bunker line secure, and we began to sweep the area. By 1600 the five missing Marines were found, dead, on the other side of the hill. The official body count of the dead NVA was 137, but we stacked 236 weapons, including AK-47’s, Russian assault machine guns, mortars, Russian sniper rifles and SKR carbines. We established a position adjacent to Echo perimeter, but Hill 881 North was again unoccupied by our forces. The day was not over for us yet. As we were digging in, the NVA opened up with a mortar attack. We hunkered down in hastily scraped out holes and shell craters. We braced for a follow-up infantry assault, but nothing happened.

Before this battle, all our fights had been ambushes, intense small arms fire, lasting 30 minutes to an hour. The Battle for Khe Sanh was continuous fighting against NVA Soldiers. They were determined to inflict as many causalities as possible, Marines were better, but the North Vietnam leaders would later admit they were willing to lose ten men for each American.

There was more death than anyone should see. More than 50 years later I still have nightmares where I scream and fight for my life.

Purple Heart

May 20, 1967

Operation Hickory was directed at reducing the combat strength and supporting the infrastructure of North Vietnamese Army operating in and south of the DMZ.

SLF Bravo boarded CH-46A Sea Knight helicopters on the USS Princeton to be inserted in the northeastern corner of the Hickory operating area. A few minutes later the choppers began to circle and gradually dropped elevation, like a hawk about to attack its prey. In reality, we were actually doing the same thing, but our prey was sly and tricky and maintained weapons just as deadly as ours. After a few more minutes of circling, we came in for the kill, and so we prepared ourselves for the worst.

Hotel made the opposed air assault into LZ Parrot, the opposition was strong enough so the LZ was closed to further landings until Hotel and supporting arms had secured the area. Just as soon as the chopper landed, we received small arms fire and mortar rounds for a nice, warm welcome by the NVA to the DMZ. Nothing makes a person feel more at home than to have nice, friendly people shoot at you for a reception. It gives one a feeling he is important.

Most of the day was spent ferrying the Battalion and supplies to a hilltop LZ in the DMZ. This was the Marines first incursion into the DMZ. It was known the NVA were using it as a staging area for supplies and troops. It was a safe haven for the NVA.

Hotel then moved toward its initial objective, a village to the north-northwest. The village was fortified and defended by what appeared to be a reinforced NVA platoon, supported by mortars and artillery firing from within the DMZ. 1st Platoon of Hotel was told to go to an area where another platoon from the 9th Marines had been ambushed. Because it was the DMZ, we were instructed not to fire on the enemy, unless they fired first. Another stupid rule from the politicians stateside.

I had a bad feeling about this mission, the only time I had felt like this in Vietnam.

My fire team had point for the platoon. Lance Corporal Mike Sevard was the point man, I was number two and Private First Class Mark Landers was third, we were short a man for the fire team. The platoon moved down the trail to the ambush site, as we came to the clearing next to a rice paddy, we found our first dead Marine from the day before. We would retrieve the body when we left the area.

We continued for about 100 yards across the clearing next to the rice paddy. All hell broke out, the platoon was in an L-shaped ambush, by which I mean the long leg was across the paddy from us was shooting along our line of march and a machine nest was on the short leg shooting down our length. I jumped behind a bush, about three high and three feet around. I began firing my M-16 at the enemy across the paddy. The call for Corpsman was coming from everywhere behind me. I glanced forward to find Lance Corporal Sevard, he was nowhere to be seen.

Continuing firing I glanced behind me and saw Private First Class Mark Landers lying dead in the open area. I could hear our M60 machine gun start and then stop, this happened several times. We were having trouble gaining fire superiority. I learned later two machine gunners were killed by NVA snipers and two gunners wounded. I know this, because I met the wounded gunner, Corporal Latcher, in Camp LeJune in 1968. He had a scar starting at the top of his forehead across the bridge of his nose and continued across his cheek. It was an ugly, nasty looking thing, but he had survived.

Realizing we were in trouble, I did what I never thought I would do, attempt a “John Wayne” action.

I had by this time seen the NVA machine nest across the rice paddy. I removed the LAW (Light Anti-tank Weapon) from my left shoulder. I pull the retaining pins, the end caps opened and I stretched the LAW to the full open position. I needed to move from behind the bush to get a clear shot. I quickly moved over, placed the LAW on my shoulder, sighted on the MG nest and pushed the firing trigger. DUD, NOTHING.

At the same instant, I was knocked backward to the ground. I was hit, I crawled behind the bush and saw blood soaking the front of my shirt. I called for Corpsman, then realized that was not going to happen. I removed my pack and looked at my shirt, there were several holes in it, must have been shrapnel. I removed my cartridge belt to get my battle dressings. As I glanced at my pack on the ground I noticed it had blood on it. I touched it and my finger found a hole, turning the pack over there was a hole on the other side. I reach around to my back and found a hole and blood with my fingers. I pulled up the front of my shirt and found a round hole in my side about half way down.

It was a bullet wound; the shirt must have been folded on itself to produce the multiple holes. I tied one battle dressing over the front bullet hole and the second over the back bullet hole. Only minutes had passed since being hit.

I heard calls the platoon was falling back. I could envision F-4 fighters screaming in shortly, dropping napalm all over this area. I needed to get the hell out of here. I looked back across the 100 yards of open ground and knew I would never make it alive across it.

Behind me, about 20 yards, rose a small hill completely covered with small bushes like the one in front of me. I decided I would travel light, 20 ammo magazines in my shirt side pockets, four hand grenades in my pant pockets, one canteen, and my compass and rifle. I left my pack, cartridge belt with all its junk and helmet. I took a compass reading back towards our LZ. Now came escape and evasion time. I darted across the twenty yards on my hands and knees. As soon as I got under the low bushes, I turned to the right for a short distance and then turned back up the hill. The reason was if any NVA had seen my dash to the hill they would not be able to target me. To this day I do know if anyone saw or shot at me. I crawled over the crest and down the far side part way. I sat down and rested for a few minutes.

I took my compass out and determined the direction to travel to the LZ. It was only half an hour away. Of course I had to crouch and stay near bushes, tall weeds and grass, anything to hide my silhouette. After one and a half hours, I knew I was lost. I took out my compass again and plotted a course southeast. South away from the DMZ and North Vietnam and east to Highway 1 and the South China Sea. I would find help in that direction, but I would have to remain concealed.

About two hours later I spotted what appeared to be a 292 antenna on a hilltop. The Marines will set up a 292 for increased radio range. The thought entered my mind, maybe the NVA have something similar. I would need to creep up on the position and verify who they were and not get caught or shot. It took me 45 minutes crawling on my belly like a snake to get close enough to hear Marines talking in their fighting holes. I slowly stood up for everyone to see me as a Marine.

I should not have worried; no one payed any attention. I walked through the perimeter and headed to the CP (Command Post). Two marines were walking toward me, one I recognized from Golf. I stopped in front of them and said: “Could you get me some help? I’m wounded.” The Marine I knew just stared at me like I was an alien; the second Marine turned and ran for the CP calling “Corpsman, Corpsman!” [medic].

I sat down and waited, very soon I was surrounded by a Captain, a Lieutenant, the other Marine and what I wanted, a Corpsman.

The Corpsman started treating me immediately. The Captain asked who I was and what unit I was from. I replied, “I am Corporal Bellis, 1st Platoon, Hotel Company and we were ambushed earlier”. He said, “Don’t worry, you’re OK and not going to die”.

What the hell, I hadn’t thought of buying the farm since I was first hit. Maybe I’m in worst shape than I thought.

The Captain must have seen something on my face and he repeated: “Don’t worry, you’re OK and not going to die”.

Damn, twice in a minute I’ve been told I was not going to die. This is not good for the psychological well-being of a person. 😉

A medevac Sea Knight [helicopter] was diverted to Golf and I was placed on board. The floor was covered with Marines on stretchers. I, as a walking wounded, sat in the canvas seats. I helped the Corpsman give water to those he said could have some. I held the canteen and slowly let them drink. The helicopter set down on the USS Princeton. Sailors rushed aboard and grabbed the stretchers taking them to triage set up on the flight deck. Doctors would evaluate the wound and send the sailors to the proper location.

I walked from the helicopter last and was led to a doctor. He removed my shirt and bandages examined my wounds.

I noticed sailors outside the triage area pointing at me. There I was standing with a bullet hole in the front and back of me bleeding blood down my sides. I’ll show them how tough Marines are. I straighten and stood tall, when told to be taken to X-ray.

I followed the sailor down the ladder (stairs to you land lubbers) to X-ray.

I was surprised to see Doc (Corpsman) Tom Monti working in X-ray. He motioned to a table and said sit there while he set up the machine. I sat down and watched Doc for a few seconds. Then I said, “Doc come over here, I’m going to pass out”.

The last I remember is my falling forward. Doc must have caught me. The day’s fatigue and stress had finally caught up to me.

The next day I awoke in sick bay. The X-ray showed no broken ribs, the bullet had passed between two ribs at the front and exited the same way in the back. All I had was a neat bullet hole punched through my body.

I stayed on the USS Princeton for four weeks, including her trip to Subic Bay, Philippines for supplies, food and ammunition.

The most enjoyable time I spent in the Marine Corps was when I was assigned to the 2d Battalion 2d Marines at Camp Lejeune. During this tour, I was on the Mediterranean Cruise. Our first port of call was Gibraltar, and it was extremely interesting. My squad and I walk to the top of Gibraltar. Lance Cpl. Fuchs tried to feed the apes some food. However, they became very aggressive and bit his hand. We rode the cable car down to the town. We watched the changing of the guards at the governor’s house; it was just like Buckingham Palace in England.

The second port of call was Barcelona, Spain, an extremely beautiful place to be. The main center of Barcelona is a pedestrian walking park. All the shops and restaurants face this open area, the excellent food and wine to enjoy at tables in the open air.

The third port of call was Marseille, France. I probably should explain between each port of call we would spend 7 to 10 days at sea. There was instruction time, inspections to be held, PT to sweat to and of course paint to chip off bulkheads. We were informed if we took any tours, it would be free liberty, there would be no duty while on tour. I signed up for a tour of Paris; the tour included train transportation round-trip, six days in Paris, continental breakfast each day and a guided tour every afternoon. This cost me $80 total. I saw the Arch of Triumph, the Louvre, Notre Dame, for Versaille palace and a cruise on the Seine River. This experience was beyond belief.

The fourth port of call was Naples Italy. Here I signed up for two tours, one to Rome for five days and the second for two days touring Pompeii. Again I saw all the sites, the Coliseum, the Roman forum, the Vatican, the catacombs, and the Appian Way. The trip to Pompeii was incredibly interesting. It’s like a time capsule of Roman city.

From Naples, we made an amphibious landing on Sardinia. The battalion was split into a blue and red team, and we spent four days in war games. We ate C-rations and soon learned that the locals would trade a liter bottle of homemade wine for two packs of C-rations cigarettes, 10 cigarettes total.

The fifth port of call was Taurean, Italy. Time to sign up for another tour. This would be a seven-day tour to Munich, Germany. Again round trip by train across northern Italy, western Austria and into Germany. I was surprised at the border checkpoint of Austria that I had to remove my jacket and shirt because they had my Sgt. stripes on them. Austria was a neutral country and allowed no one to wear military uniforms. In Munich, I met an old friend that I’ve known since fifth grade. He was stationed there with the U.S. Army. He was granted time off to be with me. So he and I shared my hotel and he went on all the tours with me. Again I saw all the sites and attended the German Oktoberfest.

We made another amphibious landing on the island of Crete. This was another war game, between my Battalion and the new Battalion that was replacing us. At the completion of the five days wargames, we sailed to Morehead City, North Carolina and back to Camp Lejeune.

My least favorite duty station was Vietnam. Being part of Special Landing Force Bravo meant that every LZ was hot. The original platoon of 45 Marines had 26 KIA, and everyone else earned at least one Purple Heart, only one Marine served his full 13 months without any injuries.

Purple Heart Awards

I received two Purple Hearts, the first a bullet wound and the second wounds from a Chinese Claymore. I served with the Special Landing Force Bravo from April to July 1967. When we flew out from the LPH it was always to a hot LZ where other Marine units were engaged. 2/3/3 engaged in thirteen missions during that time frame, lasting from 5 days to 20 days. The original Platoon of 45 Marines sustained 27 KIA, 17 WIA (some multiple times) and only 1 Marine completed his tour physically unhurt. 2/3/3 would be SLF Bravo till the end of November 1967.

April 1, 1968

I received my promotion to Sergeant (E-5). I had been in the USMC for 2 years and nine months. I believe I was a good NCO and my squad respected me and did as I instructed. The Marines serving with you deserve your very best, as Marines are the best.

I was only an excellent Marine. I followed orders and watched out for the Marines under me.

Marine Brothers Always – Any Era

This is a hard one. I believe the device that means the most to me is the EGA. When you complete boot camp and graduate, then you were finally called a Marine. Becoming a Marine is becoming part of a brotherhood. I have met Marines who served in World War II, Korea, Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan. It’s always Semper Fi, when did you serve, where did you serve, and what was your MOS. Marines no matter their age respect other Marines, whether old or young.

Marine Corporal jumped on a live grenade in Afghanistan, survived.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x8q2fB0v1w8

Lieutenant Colonel Ohanesian was one of the new breeds of Marine Corps officers. Lt. Col. Ohanesian was born in 1926. In 1945, he joined the USMC at 19 years old and went to San Diego MCRD. In 1951, he was 24 or 25 years old and was a Staff Sergeant with 1st Battalion 3rd Marines H Company as a Platoon Leader in Korea. In 1966 he was 40 years old and while not old enough to have served in WWII, he had served in Korea.

Many of the older Lieutenant Colonels and full bird Colonels had served with valor and distinction in the Pacific in WW II. Don’t forget, in 1966 WW II was only a little more than twenty years in the past and men who had served in WW II were still only mid-forties or in their early fifties.

Lieutenant Colonel Ohanesian was different in the sense that he knew Vietnam was a small unit war and even in larger actions the battalion would not function as a discrete unit but would operate independently as platoons and companies. At any given time he and his Headquarters could be with one of those smaller units, so he intended to get to know all of them individually, or at the very least, introduce himself personally so that the individual grunts would know it was not some faceless man ordering them into combat, but someone who knew who they were.

He was, in my opinion, the finest Marine Officer I ever served under.

Reflections

Paul Fuchs – F Co. 2/2/2 Getting bite on Gibraltar by the monkeys. Like to contact

George Edgerton – F Co. 2/2/2 Tours on the Med Cruise. Like to contact

Desmond Murray – H Co. 2/3/3 Radioman and friend for 50+ years. Already in touch

Glen Pitts – H Co. 2/3/3 1st Squad. A good Marine leader. Already in touch

Jerry Teaque – H Co. 2/3/3 1st Squad, the Good Old Boy from Missouri. Already in touch

Steve Stevers – H Co. 2/3/3 1st Squad, Deserving of the Silver Star. Already in touch

Mike Sevard – H Co. 2/3/3 1st Squad, Best fighting Marine I served with. Like to contact

Tom Monti – H&S Co. 2/3/3 Corpsman, Bravest man on the battlefield. Like to contact

Mark Landers – H Co. 2/3/3 1st Squad, KIA, served because it was the Right Thing Do.

Jesse Goode – E Co. 2/8/2 and H Co. 2/3/3 always in competition with me. Like to contact

Quad 50s

One night at Camp Carroll, while I was on radio watch, the radio had to be operated 24 hours a day. I heard the Army transmit they heard noises down the south slope. I notified the platoon staff, and a runner was sent to the fighting holes to alert everyone. More radio talk came through; the noise was increasing and spreading out. The Army held their fire until the noise was halfway up the slope. The Army commander ordered the quad 50 calibers to open fire.

The next couple of minutes saw tracers from the 50s slashing down the hillside. Remember only every fifth round is a tracer. Cease fire, cease fire, and the silence was the only thing you could hear for a couple of minutes. The Army commander ordered the tank mounted searchlight to illuminate the area and be ready to fire. The huge searchlights came on and down the slope were two bullet-riddled water buffaloes.

The US government paid the villagers for their loss the next morning. The villagers had a feast that night, roasted water buffalo.

Guidebook for Marines

I went to College on the GI Bill and graduated first in my class in Mechanical Engineering. It was the Marine Corps that taught me discipline and responsibility. I was not smarter than the younger students; I just worked harder and longer.

I was hired by Eastman Kodak, as a junior Engineer. I worked for them for 33 years becoming the Director of Engineering. Same story of working harder and longer.

I retired nine years ago, and I believe my success was my training as a Marine. The values taught in NCO School apply to the civilian job.

Among my USMC souvenirs is a “Guidebook for Marines”, 11th Revised Edition, printed May 1, 1966. Chapter 38 of the book deals with Marine Corps Leadership, and there on page 496 you will find a listing of the 14 character traits of a Marine NCO:

1. Integrity
2. Knowledge
3. Courage
4. Decisiveness
5. Dependability
6. Initiative
7. Tact
8. Justice
9. Enthusiasm
10. Bearing
11. Endurance
12. Unselfishness
13. Loyalty
14. Judgment

Veterans Slighted

The only military Association I belong to is the VFW. I believe the Veterans of Foreign Wars represent past and current veterans. The federal government uses veterans when they need them and would like to forget them afterward. We have only to look at how the Veterans of Vietnam, the Persian Gulf War, and Iraq and Afghanistan have been treated.

Being a Marine, I am disciplined, loyal, and tireless in achieving my goals. I went from a 17-year-old farm boy to being the director of engineering for a multinational company. It was the Marine Corps with the G.I. Bill that made this happen.

Always try to exceed the expectations of all who come in contact with you. This may not always be possible, however, you will find that if you try the results will surprise you.

TWS and the US Marine Corps

I have been able to pay my respects to the Marines I served with in Vietnam, who gave their all. I have also found six of my comrades who served with me.