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Troop, 3rd Squadron, 4th Cavalry 25th ID -
Veterans![]() Personal Experience Narratives (War Stories) BOOM! Another Landmine Lonnie Dotson
It was late in my
tour with A troop, 3/4th Cav, 25th
INF Div. I had about 28 days remaining before I could jump on a
freedom bird. It must have been around Feb. 70, I'm
guessing. We were busting bush in III
Corps, looking for "Sir Charles" in an area, they called the Hobo
Woods. Usually it was a unit of the 101 NVA Regt. that we would run
into. The Hobo Woods was a major staging area for the NVA to
assemble and mount an attack at the 25th INF Div base camp, Cu Chi
City or Saigon. The NVA would traveled down
the many trails and sneak in across the border from Cambodian and
Laotian. They would all rally in the Hobo's for food, ammo, plans
and instructions. Much later, after the war we found that the NVA
had a major tunnel network right below us all the time (I guess
that's another story) Geehs gives me shivers just to thinking about
it. The Cav was good for doing
sweeps through the bush. Due to our mobility, we could keep the
Enemy off guard and moving and a grunt company would take too long
and be too costly in injuries. We could literally roll over small
mines and booby traps and keep going. These sweep missions would
make be it harder to mount a large-scale attack. We would also
force him into battles before he was ready, hitting them before
they were unprepared. Our Squadron and the 11th Armored Cav Regt
had been using the new M151 General Sheridan Airborne Assault
Tanks. I use this term "Tank"
loosely, since being a tanker of a 52-ton medium Tank and now
having a 17-ton light tank was rather hard to swallow. However,
they were fast and had a hell of a punch. It had a main gun of
152MM (which had a beehive shell with 10,700 fleshetts), while the
M48A3, only had the standard 90MM. However,
As a Tanker I still had some pride. The average Cav
Platoon had 3 Scout Tracks (M113's, with two M60's mounted in the
back and a 50 cal for the commander) called ACAV's, 3 tanks, one
mortar track, a platoon Cdr.'s track and a squad of grunts. The
headquarters section was composed of the Command, Mortar and
Medical Track's. We packed a lot of firepower in one platoon. Each
of the ground Troops had three platoons like the third.
We had just left our base camp after a three-day stand
down. The Troop Commander tried to
return us to base camp at least every other month. We needed to
clean the tracks, pull and replace the engines and generally pull
heavy maintenance. Getting drunk, taking a shower, finding new
uniforms, and get into any trouble was also on the menu. It had
been a long time since many have of us had anything other than a
bath in our helmets, or anything to
drink. After the much
needed cleaning and resting we returned to the Hobos Woods and
started our combat sweeps. The way we conducted a sweep was to have
all three platoons abreast on line with about 25 meters between
each track. We would intersperse tanks and ACAV's to balance out
the firepower. The command tracks would follow behind us with the
Medical and Mortar tracks. Using a line formation we would bust
down the jungle and drive through the dense brush. Our grunts would
dismount and walk to the sides or rear as we busted the trees,
brush, bamboo and anything else got in our way. This type of close
support kept Chuck from jumping up after we rolled by and shooting
us from behind. It got hairy many times! It was hard to see where
we were going. Generally, it seemed like I
was looking at a wall of green to my front. I had a
newly tailored uniform on (actually it was a real faded almost,
white jungle uniform that I had cherished). We kind of gained a
sense of prestige and honor based upon the age of our uniforms. .
The older they looked the better we felt. I had them tailor the
pants, sew on stripes and patches (yikes I almost looked like a
real soldier). I felt great and looked like an old combat hardened
vet all at the age of 19. Most the time we only wore cutoff jungle
pants, and towels around our necks, and generally looked like
crap. Setting up on top of those V12 Turbo
diesels got pretty hot and dirty, and busting brush and putting
tracks back on wasn't a very neat task either! …. All day we pushed
down bush and knocked down trees, and I was tired of fighting vines
and getting the dang red ants off of me. Seemed that each time we
hit a tree it was filled with red fire ants that bite like crazy.
Guess where they fell? Yup, right on top of my turret, where my
crew and I rode! It must have just been just after the
monsoon, since the paddies were still somewhat wet and soggy. The
troop halted just on the outside the woods.
My platoon was assigned to see if the paddies were dry enough for
us to send the troop across. I told my driver to move out into the
rice paddy and not to let off on the gas.. "Peddle to the metal!"
We were moving across the first paddy and when I started to feel
it. I could feel it getting too sloppy. A tank (even this small
one) digs in and throws all the mud up and all over the place. Well
guess who got stuck? Of all the tracks in
my platoon, I was the first to get stuck! Old A36 was stopped in
her tracks! Well the plan was for another track to back up and pull
me out. We would place put the "trainee" in reverses and try to get
back on high ground. Well I swallowed my pride and allowed an
Infantry track to help pull on my Tank (man if the guys at Fort
Knox, ever hear about this!). A Small Infantry ACAV could have
never pulled out a M48A3 Med. Tank. Well being the good tank
commander I was *smile*), I jumped down to help, leaving my flak
jacket and helmet up in my Commanders copula. This must have
captured everyone's attention since not only was my crew on 36's
back deck watching the fiasco, but so was half the
troop. I got the cables all
hooked up and was a little PO'd since my new uniform was getting
dirty, but had to do something so we could rejoin with the troop
and head to a night defensive position. All was set and I was
ready… I walked to the front of the M-113 ACAV track and was giving
the driver hand and arm signals. This way I could see my tank and
the track… I was standing about 50 feet to the right front of the
pulling track. As the driver pulled all the slack out from the
cables, I signaled for him to stomp on the gas and give it a hard
left turn. I didn't want the tracks pulling back over the same deep
ruts we made when we pulled in to this
mess. I thought the ground would be dryer
and give us better traction. Well the ACAV moved about 10 feet and
all I heard was a large BOOM!! I was either blown down and away or
something.. All I knew was I couldn't see or hear a thing, and I
wasn't where I started! I didn't know what the deal was.. I thought
we had taken a rocket, or were being
attacked. The platoon medic ran
over and was bending over me and cutting my brand new uniform off.
I couldn't believe it, my new uniform! Man the uniform just cost me
some serious bucks getting all the stuff sew on. Now it had only
lasted a few short hours! I really liked that the uniform, since us
old-timers had great pride in our faded uniform, it gave us a
little bit of pride. New guys would be noticed their new crisp
clean jungle cammies. The medic tried to talk to me and comfort me
since I couldn't hear or see too well. I managed to feel my groin
to insure it was all there and tried to feel the rest of me but
they held me down so I wouldn't mess up the wounds I
guess. I felt the rotor wash of a small Chopper landing
close by and managed to see that it was the Squadron Commanders
Command and control ship. He bounced out and they helped my driver
and I into the bird. I was carrying my uniform, and all I had on
was my boots and bandages. Great sight I bet! I looked
over to the pilot and noticed that he had these flowers painted all
over his helmet, and he looked like he had a size 5 head and was
wearing a size 10 flight helmet! He looked about 12 years old! As I
looked over he just grinned. I was thinking to myself "what the
heck was this kid doing flying this chopper!" Well he just kept
grinning and lifted the bird up only a few feet. He buzzed up about
10 feet above the ground at what felt like 100 miles an hour. He
zoomed between trees, and did what felt like loop de loops … anyway
he got me to the 12th Evacuation Hospital in no time
flat…. The medical people came out and
helped me to a gurney, and wheeled me into the Triage
unit! I was told that I had actually guided the
vehicles right on top of a buried land mine. It was estimated that
the charge was about a 150/200 lbs. charge. It was buried deep and
when it blew, threw mud and bamboo shards all over the place. It of
course covered me with mud, black powder, and bamboo like
toothpicks. It must have been all encased in bamboo, so it wouldn't
be detected by the land mine clearing teams. The miracle that no
one else was injured. The lack of injuries might have been due to
everyone being out and standing on top of their vehicles
watching. Well here I was with
no clothes on, covered in mud, gun powder burns to my eyes, ear
drums blown… and with only 28 days to go until I was to go home!
The doctor told me to shower off so he could see what my wounds
were, and I had to get x-rayed to see where all the foreign objects
were. I was lying right next to NVA Solider who was wounded as
well. Geesh, what a feeling! My
treatment? All they did was pour a bottle of disinfect all over me,
gave me a few shots, and send me to my unit. I still couldn't see
or hear well but at least I was in the rear. I thought no more war
for me, it would be nice. I found out soon that most of our rear
guys were drunks and shot up the place each night. I kept worrying
if I'd ever make it home, at least in a combat area we knew who the
enemy was. Back in the rear it was our own guys I worried about
most! I made it home, but
that's another story. I'm sure after the guys back in the bush
found out I was ok, they must have had a good laugh about me
blowing up my own tank!
Lonnie Dotson
3rd Plt 69/70 Stories
can be freely used by former members of 3rd Squadron, 4th Cavalry
who served with the unit in Vietnam. Use is granted for personal
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