By Barry L. Goodson
Unlike different forces in Vietnam, the CAP forces didn't arrive by way of helicopter within the morning and depart at evening. the one time a CAP marine left the jungle was once while he was once rotating domestic, wounded or killed. They grew to become a part of village lifestyles and aided the neighborhood citizens in lots of methods. The marines turned accustomed to the neighborhood terrain, may perhaps usher in heavy hearth strength whilst helpful, instilled self-discipline and self belief within the PF forces, and gained the loyalty of many Vietnamese villagers.
This booklet tells the tale of Goodson's own studies as a CAP Marine within the jungles of Vietnam.
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Additional resources for CAP Môt: the story of a marine special forces unit in Vietnam, 1968-1969
704'3373dc20 96-5940 CIP cover and interior design by Amy Layton interior and cover artwork by Barry Goodson Page v To my wife, Cindy Page vii Table of Contents Preface viii Mead River 1 CAP 13 Chu LaiDay One 24 Bounty 37 Tet * Offensive of 1969 62 Viet Cong Village 109 Killer Team 125 Quang* Tin Province Chieftain 152 CO's Night Out 189 April 25Bunker Day 230 MASH Chu Lai 248 The Trip Home 269 Welcome Back 283 A Slow Healing 288 Index 301 Page viii Preface This book is based upon actual occurrences and events that took place during my tour of duty in Vietnam, from July of 1968 to June of 1969.
To begin with, there wasn't one inch of dry land left to stand on and you remained constantly drenched, soaked and chilled to the bone. You slept (when you could sleep) with your head lying against a soggy rice paddy dike while your body endured an unending bath in the stagnant, leech-infested waters of the paddy. As if to assure you that misery could be worse, hordes of mosquitoes possessing the bite of horseflies descended upon you like squadrons of fighter planes. Perhaps some good evolved from the whole scene, however; patience and/or willpower, whichever label you chose to slap on it.
The corpsman had his hands full elsewhere, so I removed two bandages from the pouch on my belt. Using the first as packing, I wrapped the second around it and tied it tight. The bleeding would not stop. Using my last bandage I fashioned a tourniquet above the wound. "Aieee . . ," he screamed in pain. Page 4 I had nothing to offer the tortured man. Only the corpsman was allowed to carry medicine. "Sorry, man. I'm sure it hurts like hell," I said as I finished patching the wound. " The bleeding had slowed but refused to be stopped.