Blackhorse Hoofbeats
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Don Snedeker
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Blackhorse Hoofbeats
By: Don Snedeker, 11th ACVVC Historian
3rd Issue, 2025
Echoes from the Regiment’s
Service in Vietnam 1966 – 1972
Don Snedeker, 11th ACVVC Historian
Fort Defiance: There has been a Fort Defiance during many periods of American
military history. Well before the Revolutionary War, English colonists built
perhaps the first Fort Defiance in our history as they pushed westward from the
coast into the as-yet unnamed Shenandoah Valley. General ‘Mad Anthony’ Wayne had
a Fort Defiance built to protect his soldiers against the Native Americans in
what would become Ohio (between Toledo and Detroit) in the late 18th Century. It
was one of the western-most forts at the time it was built. Ten years before the
Civil War began, another Fort Defiance was constructed in the Arizona Territory
to establish a military presence among the Navajo Tribe. During the Civil War,
slaves and black Freedmen built a fourth Fort Defiance for the Confederate Army
near Clarksville, TN. Each of these forts had one thing in common – they were
built in an area that was under constant threat of attack, with the name
conveying the spirit of the defenders against all comers.
Vietnam, too, had its Fort Defiance. This Fort Defiance was built by the 919th
Engineer Company on top of Hill 95. It was occupied by 2nd Squadron in March
1970. Like its predecessors, Fire Support Base (FSB) Fort Defiance was built in
a place designed to irritate the enemy the most. It was in War Zone C, about 8
kilometers south of the Cambodian border and midway between Ka Tum and Ton Le
Cham. As H Company 2nd Platoon Leader Bill Gregory recalled: “War Zone C out
into Tay Ninh Province … was to us something from the movies, was Indian
country. There was nobody out there except us and the bad guys … [W]e were right
in the middle of their territory and we were daring them to mess with us, and
they did.”
Like all of its precedents (except the one in Arizona), this Fort Defiance was
built in the midst of an old forest; but the one in War Zone C was the only one
that had jungle undergrowth mixed in with the trees that grew a hundred feet
tall or so. The Red Devils of the 4th Platoon, 919th had to clear away some of
the taller, as well as many shorter (30-40 feet tall) trees and bamboo, while
Eagle Horse Squadron tracks crushed down the scrub brush and the carpet of
foot-tall elephant grass. A 6-foot red clay berm surrounded the 150-meter
circular FSB, with a string of concertina wire outside that. Claymores, trip
flares, and a couple barrels of foogas [jellied gasoline] rounded out the
perimeter defenses. Upon completion, the defenders inside Fort Defiance had
fields of fire out to about 40 meters before the jungle blocked lines of sight.
A landing pad for the daily resupply Chinook helicopters was cleared on the
northwestern edge, just outside the berm.
The engineers also built a second berm, dividing Fort Defiance into a northern
and a southern half. Howitzer Battery (minus two guns) and the Squadron tactical
operations center (TOC) set up inside the southern half, while the aid station,
commo and maintenance sections set up in the northern half. All of these were
dug in, thanks to the 919th Engineers. Hotel Company tanks and 2/11 Headquarters
and Headquarters Troop (HHT) armored cavalry assault vehicles (ACAVs), as well
as four M-42 Dusters and two Zippo tracks (flame-throwers), were spaced evenly
around the outer perimeter; the perimeter berm was high enough for all vehicles
to be in hull defilade. (A vehicle is in hull defilade when the hull is
protected by a dirt berm or revetment, and the weapons can still fire over the
earthworks; a vehicle in hull defilade presents a much smaller target for enemy
gunners to try and hit.)
Fort Defiance was also home to a two-gun 8-inch section from the 6th Battalion,
27th Artillery, located next to 2nd-HOW in the southern half of the FSB. First
Lieutenant Ralph Porter was assigned to the fire direction center (FDC) for
Alpha Battery, 6/27th and remembers Fort Defiance: “Morale was high, even though
we were being shot at regularly by snipers, mortars, RPGs [rocket-propelled
grenades], and even an occasional rocket from the surrounding triple canopy
jungle. I remember that on one side of the perimeter there was a slight rise to
a small ridgeline that afforded protection to these harassment operations that
were designed to figure out our defensive strategy and posture.”
The battle for FSB Fort Defiance began about a month before the actual attack.
During March, the enemy made several attacks against 1st and 3rd Squadron
elements. These attacks started out relatively minor in size and duration but
grew over the month until 1/11 and 3/11 engaged sizeable North Vietnamese Army (NVA)
forces during the last week of March. Regimental intelligence personnel
concluded that these attacks were designed to force the Regiment to recall 2nd
Squadron from its ongoing interdiction of the enemy’s Saigon-Michelin resupply
and infiltration corridor in eastern War Zone C. On 4 April, the 541st Military
Intelligence (MI) Detachment noted that the main force units were avoiding
contact. “However, there are signs of battlefield preparation in the 11th ACR
TAOR [Tactical Area of Responsibility] with possible targets being FSB DEFIANCE
and/or Troop NDPs [night defensive positions].”
Securing Rome Plows from the 984th Land Clearing Company, 2nd Squadron was
having considerable success in opening large swaths of the Mustang Trail to
aerial surveillance and ground interdiction. The recon troops, supported by Air
Cav Troop aero scouts, worked in their separate areas of operation, each about
10-15 kilometers wide. Their mission was to screen the trail networks, looking
for signs of enemy movement to the south. Troopers deployed a series of
automatic ambushes on a nightly basis, inflicting casualties and instilling fear
in the NVA porters and couriers on the trails. First Squadron was accomplishing
a similar mission in the western sector of northern War Zone C. Further to the
south, two brigades of the 1st Cavalry Division were prepared to take on
anything that had made its way through the 11th ACR screen. Captured documents
from the enemy’s 50th Rear Service Group told of the considerable difficulties
they were having in keeping their forward-deployed forces supplied. Communist
leaders could not allow this intrusion to continue, so they directed the 7th (NVA)
Division to correct the situation. The commander of the 7th (NVA) Division
decided that the indirect approach (RPG teams, hit-and-run ambushes, and mines)
was not working, so he began to marshal his forces for a direct assault against
Fort Defiance. He stealthily moved a reinforced battalion of the 165th Regiment
along the eastern edge of the 2/11 sector, then hooked west and north to
approach the FSB from an unexpected direction.
On 1 April, Air Cav scouts sighted 30 to 40 enemy personnel moving south along
the Mustang Trail. The aero-scouts also uncovered five new trails in the same
vicinity, all of which showed signs of recent use. Between April 2nd and 8th,
2/11 Troopers made daily contact with small elements from both regiments of the
7th (NVA) Division and 50th Rear Service Group; in all cases, the enemy quickly
broke contact and evaded deeper into the jungle. All three recon troops (E, F,
and G) and H Company, as well as the 4th Platoon, 919th Engineers, repeatedly
found mines and freshly-dug bunkers along Highway 246 (that runs east-west from
Ton Le Cham to Ka Tum) and local route 13 (that runs northeast to southwest from
the Minh Thanh Rubber Plantation to Tay Ninh City). On two occasions, they found
commo wire stretched across the road, a sure sign that a larger-sized force was
in the area and establishing a base camp, probably in preparation for an attack.
Documents found on the body of an NVA soldier killed on 4 April identified the
C-21 Sapper-Recon Company of the 165th (NVA) Regiment. This enemy soldier was
probably part of the recon party planning the attack on Fort Defiance – a fact
not missed by the Squadron Intelligence Staff and the 541st MI Detachment.
The final contact with the gathering enemy force before the assault on Fort
Defiance itself occurred on 8 April when Chief Warrant Officer 2 Johnny Mallette,
piloting an OH-6A with the Squadron Operations Officer (Major Fred Franks) and
his crew chief-scout observer aboard, spotted a trail with signs of fresh use.
Taking his light observation helicopter (LOH) down to tree-top level, Chief
Mallette followed the trail until he saw a group of NVA who appeared to be
preparing an ambush position. Almost immediately, the NVA saw the helicopter and
took it under small arms and machine gun fire, hitting the aircraft and causing
a rapid loss of oil pressure.
Echo Troop, less than a kilometer away, moved to the sound of the guns.
According to his Distinguished Flying Cross citation, CW2 Mallette, although
wounded, with “calm deliberation … flew phasing patterns to extricate his craft
from the enemy ground fire. While still under intense enemy fire and with his
leg bleeding profusely, he maneuvered his helicopter to a point behind Troop E
and carefully landed without further damaging the craft or injuring the two
occupants aboard.” The enemy force, recognizing they had lost the element of
surprise, fled into the jungle, ambush mission unaccomplished.
One additional piece of intelligence information provided an indicator of the
enemy’s intentions. In the days leading up to 9 April, there was a dramatic
increase in the occurrences of ground-to-air fire against Blackhorse helicopters
in the vicinity of Fort Defiance. These attacks posed a significant risk to the
aviators, as the enemy riflemen had been issued new armor-piercing ammo for
their AK-47s. The Regimental intelligence assessment concluded that this
increase was not coincidental, but by design: “[T]he increase occurred at the
time when the enemy was preparing his battlefield for his attack on Ft Defiance.
Therefore, it is felt that the enemy planned this increase and in part used
these firings to cover other activities by diverting attention.”
It didn’t work.
The series of contacts with NVA units, all within a radius of about 3 kilometers
around Fort Defiance – and several as close as a couple hundred meters – made
the enemy’s intentions clear. An attack on the FSB was imminent.
The Troopers didn’t have to wait long. The attack came just after midnight on 9
April. Mortar rounds and rockets rained down inside and outside the perimeter –
between 70 and 100 or so 60mm, 82mm, 107mm, 120mm, and 122mm rounds struck in
less than 15 minutes. RPGs, caliber .51 machine gun, and AK-47 rifle fire
accompanied the barrage of indirect fire. The Commander of the 7th (NVA)
Division had assembled a potent force to take on the Blackhorse. The 165th
Regiment was reinforced with two sapper companies, an artillery battalion, a
mortar company, and an anti-aircraft company.
Inside the perimeter, Hotel Company’s 1st Sergeant, Paul Curran, was earning a
Silver Star. Neither the company commander nor the executive officer were at
Fort Defiance that night, so the company’s Top Soldier recognized that his
leadership and experience would be needed. With incoming rounds impacting all
around him, he headed for one of his tanks that was in danger of being destroyed
by a fire that started when an RPG struck a barrel of oil. While a medic tended
to two wounded crewmen, Top Curran tried to beat the flames out with his flak
jacket. When he realized that was not going to happen, he shoveled dirt onto the
fire until it was extinguished. Throughout the remainder of the fight, he went
from vehicle to vehicle in full sight of the enemy, encouraging the crews,
ensuring the wounded were taken care of, and resupplying and redistributing ammo
among the tanks. This latter task was especially important, as the crews were
using mostly high-explosive HE rounds instead of canister. The Company’s master
load plan called for more canister rounds than HE on board the M-48s
(appropriate considering the nature of the ‘normal’ threat). Because the enemy
gunners did not leave their positions inside the jungle, H Company track
commanders (TCs) and loaders were using the high explosive rounds to penetrate
the thick vegetation. The First Sergeant had to make sure the crews had enough
HE during the fight.
One of the medics who was working the perimeter with Top Curran was Bill
Montgomery. When the incoming rounds began to impact inside Fort Defiance,
Specialist 4 Montgomery headed for the perimeter. He saw Lieutenant Colonel (LTC)
Grail Brookshire’s command track ACAV, take an RPG and catch on fire.
Disregarding the continuing barrage of mortars and rockets, as well as the
flames on the track, the medic knew his duty. His Silver Star citation explains
what he did next.
“Specialist Montgomery ran through the fragment torn base and began to
administer aid to the wounded crew members. Despite the painful burns,
Specialist Montgomery carried the injured soldiers to the aid station. He then
returned to the perimeter to insure all wounded personnel had been taken care
of.” When the medevac helicopters arrived, he went with the section of Hotel
Company tanks to the landing pad. Just before the choppers landed, the enemy let
loose another barrage of mortars and rockets. “Specialist Montgomery instructed
the wounded to take cover but remained exposed to the enemy rounds to direct the
helicopters away from the area.” Only after all the wounded had been cared for
did Bill Montgomery allow another medic to take care of his own severe burns.
Things were especially hot and heavy in the Howitzer Battery area of the FSB.
Within minutes of the first rounds impacting at Fort Defiance, the four
howitzers were in action. The deadlined (non-operational for maintenance
reasons) Number 6 gun provided illumination (because there was no engine in the
vehicle, all traversing, elevating, and loading had to be done by hand), while
the other three howitzers fired counter-battery missions. An incoming RPG hit
the Number 6 piece, blowing off the entire caliber .50 mount. The Number 5 piece
was hit twice, first by an RPG that penetrated the engine compartment and
started a fire, and a second time by an 82mm mortar that struck the ammo bunker
next to the howitzer. Two layers of sandbags and an Air Force pallet did their
job by absorbing the blast and the ammunition didn’t explode. Another 82mm
mortar struck the berm next to the Number 4 piece, starting a fire in one of the
powder bags. The crew quickly put the fire out before it caused any further
damage. Altogether, almost 40 mortar, rocket, and RPG 2 rounds impacted in the
Battery area.
The attack on Fort Defiance was over in under an hour, although the enemy’s Z-22
Artillery Battalion fired another 50 or so mortar rounds and rockets against the
FSB after daybreak. The better part of a reinforced NVA regiment was in position
for an assault on the base, but no ground attack came – probably because of the
heavy volume of machine gun, 90mm main gun, and artillery fire that was coming
their way, as well as the obvious lack of catastrophic destruction inside the
berm.
Bill Gregory probably spoke for many of the 2/11 Troopers inside the berm that
night: “I’d say we probably won that fight because we, we inflicted quite a bit
of damage on them. But it was, it was kind of scary there for a while. Because,
you know … when you’re in a fire fight for that long a period of time you begin
to wonder, we’re doing great now but can we keep this up? ... We just put out as
much firepower as we could and we were able to keep them from getting inside.”
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Blackhorse Hoofbeats
By: Don Snedeker, 11th ACVVC Historian
2nd Issue, 2025
Echoes from the Regiment’s Service in Vietnam 1966-1972 - Part II
SGT Richard
Tuten (D Company, 1/11 67-68 and C Troop, 1/11, 69, killed in action), compared
to these seasoned NCOs, a relative rookie. He was only 23 years old when he went
to war with the Blackhorse in 1967. But he had learned his trade from some of
those two-war vets and he learned it well. One of the most important lessons he
had learned in his short Army career was a responsibility to pass on those
elements of tradecraft to the even younger Troopers Uncle Sam and Bengal 6
entrusted to him. Nineteen-year old James Mullican (D Company, 1/11, 68-69) was
one of those Troopers.
Although not physically imposing in his five-foot-nothing frame, Trooper
Mullican immediately recognized that his new TC could teach him how to survive
his tour in Vietnam. “‘Mack,’ he said, ‘this shit is real, if you want to go
home, listen to me and listen good’”. SGT Tuten taught Jim Mullican discipline,
the value of family, the importance of duty to country, the honor of wearing a
Combat Infantryman’s Badge (CIB), and the need to take his job seriously. Among
the most essential life-saving lessons he taught his two side gunners was how to
handle an M-60 machine gun. “He taught me how to shoot an M-60 [machine gun]
effectively from the roadsides to long shots or trimming grass, searching for
VC. He taught me to be a machine gunner, not a shooter, for shooters were in the
infantry and we are in the CAV.”
SGT Richard Tuten, along with the rest of his D-49 ACAV crew, was wounded in an
ambush on 13 May 1968. After recovering from his wounds at Walter Reed, SGT
Tuten volunteered to return to the Blackhorse. Assigned to Charlie Troop on this
second tour, he was killed in action on 14 April 1969, just 17 days after he got
back in country.
New York-born Robert Meeker (L Troop, 3/11, 68-69) joined the Blackhorse on 7
September 1968, two years to the day after the Regiment arrived in Vietnam. A
graduate of Fort Benning’s Non-Commissioned Officer Corps (CCOC) Class 25-68
(frequently referred to as ‘Shake ‘n’ Bake school) the previous June, he was
assigned as a scout section leader in Lima Troop. Rumors of peace filled the
pages of the Stars & Stripes, but the Bandit Troopers remained focused on their
combat missions – finding the enemy around Blackhorse Base Camp and Fire Support
Base (FSB) Bandit Hill, while working with and training the soldiers of the 18th
South Vietnamese Infantry Division. In the span of the six months that SSG
Meeker was with the Blackhorse, he earned two Silver Stars. In February, Lima
Troop moved with the rest of 3/11 to FSB Holiday Inn to work with the 1st (US)
Infantry Division and the 5th South Vietnamese Infantry Division. SSG Meeker and
his platoon were on a routine reconnaissance on 18 February 1969 when “suddenly
the armored column was raked by automatic weapons and antitank grenade fire.”
His Silver Star citation continues.
In the initial burst of fire, Sergeant Meeker’s vehicle sustained a direct hit
from a rocket propelled grenade round, knocking him from the vehicle and
severely wounding him. Although wounded and dazed, he remounted his vehicle and
began directing accurate and deadly machinegun fire upon the hostile elements.
While engaging the enemy forces from his vehicle, he was again hit by enemy
small arms fire … Suddenly his vehicle received another direct hit from an enemy
rocket propelled grenade round, wounding his entire crew and causing the vehicle
to erupt into flames. Yet, he continued to shower the enemy positions with
machinegun fire, pinning the hostile elements down long enough to allow the
evacuation of his wounded comrades. For a third time his vehicle was hit by a
rocket propelled grenade round, again knocking him to the ground. In spite of
his severe wounds, he refused medical attention until his wounded comrades had
been attended to.
No junior leadership positions in the 11th Cav were more demanding than those in
the Aero Rifle Platoon in Air Cav Troop. The ARPs made contact with a higher
degree of frequency and intensity than any other platoon in the Regiment. For
the most part, their contacts were ‘up close and personal’. As a result, the
NCOs had to be not only good leaders who could show rather than just tell, they
also had to be personally fearless. Major (MAJ) John ‘Doc’ Bahnsen (Air Cav
Troop and 1/11 Commander, 68-69), who knew something about leadership and
personal bravery, made this observation.
The ARP had trouble retaining any senior NCO leaders for long periods of time
primarily because of the nature of their job. E-7s and E-6s came and went as
they were wounded in action and evacuated. It was not unusual to have an E-4 as
the Platoon Sergeant of the ARPs for long periods of time. Often these leaders
were the so called ‘shake and bake’ NCOs with less than two years service. To a
man these young soldiers were superb ARP leaders, as their aggressiveness made
up for what they lacked in experience.
SGT Frank Gowrie (919th Engineer Company, 66-67 and Air Cav Troop, 67-68, Jack
Quilter Award 1991) was one of those young Troopers who had responsibility
thrust upon him. After returning from an overnight Long Range Recon Platoon (LRRP)
ambush mission in mid-January 1968, the platoon sergeant said that even though
they had not made contact, he had a feeling that ‘something’ was in the area.
His feeling was not supported by any hard intelligence, so the debriefing of the
LRRP team didn’t go so well. Four members of the team believed strongly enough
that there was something out there that they decided to go back into the area in
daylight.
There was, indeed, something out there – an occupied regimental base camp. The
only protection Frank and the other three LRRPs could find once they realized
they had stumbled into such a formidable ‘something’ was a slit trench. The NVA
had obviously been in the camp for some time, as the trench was about
three-quarters full of, well, enemy excrement. Grenades quickly followed the
four LRRPs into the trench, and in short order all were wounded. The platoon
sergeant was hurt the worst, with a sucking chest wound. That put SGT Kaz
Kazarian (Air Cav Troop, 66-68) in charge. After being caught in the middle of a
crossfire, 1/11 Troopers linked up with the LRRPs and overran the base camp
perimeter. Being good infantrymen, the three who still could, filled their
fatigue pockets with grenades and started clearing bunkers; Frank recalls that
he had so many grenades “my pants were falling down.” In the process of clearing
the bunkers, SGT Kazarian had his right arm blown off at the elbow – making SGT
Frank Gowrie the new platoon sergeant. Three decades later, he recalled: “My
platoon consisted of 18 men. I was going to lose more. I went to bed that night
a scared 20 year old with a lot of weight on my shoulders.” Although still a
buck sergeant, he had been in country just about a year and a half; he filled
the position admirably.
It was, perhaps, inevitable that some friction arose between the senior NCOs who
had earned their stripes in the school of hard knocks and those who earned them
in the schoolhouse. A staff sergeant, depending on years in service, was paid
the same, regardless of how he earned his stripes. Jealousy, contempt, and hurt
pride permeated the relationship between the ‘lifer’ NCOs and the shake ‘n’
bakes. The younger sergeants were closer in age and mentality to the draftees
and enlistees they were leading than the veteran NCOs, so an ‘us-vs.-them’
atmosphere sometimes developed. In at least one case, this led to a humorous
(for the perpetrators, at least) situation.
After many hard weeks in the jungles of northern War Zone C and D and along
Thunder Road, Kilo Troop finally earned a short standdown inside the Lai Khe
base camp. Showers, mess halls, and clubs with beer were all available and the
dust, stress, and anxiety were quickly washed away or down. After three or four
days of such high living, men began to think like boys again. With perhaps too
much time – and beer – on/in their hands, three of Kilo Troop’s youngest NCOs
decided they would get even with the ‘lifers’ for real and/or perceived
injustices. The senior NCOs, most raised in the ‘old’ Army, gathered nightly
inside a tent to drink, play poker, and complain about the ‘new’ Army.
The three shake ‘n’ bake NCOs – two staff sergeants and one buck sergeant –
designed a fool-proof plan. First, they tied commo wire at ankle-height between
the trees outside the hooch. Then they crept up unseen in the dark Vietnamese
night. When the senior sergeants had consumed sufficient amounts of alcohol,
they tossed tear gas grenades inside the tent. Imagine, if you will, the
Keystone Cops trying to get out of the station house as it rapidly fills with
noxious gasses.
Only to trip over the aforementioned commo wire footfalls. Only to have more CS
gas canisters tossed in their direction as they lay in an incapacitated heap.
SGT Ross Yosnow (K Troop, 3/11, 69-70) remembers: “Meanwhile, the three of us
were running and laughing as fast as we could, away from the scene of the crime.
The next day the lifers were all talking about killing the guys who did it, but
they never found out it was us.”
Who said these young NCOs hadn’t learned anything in instant NCO school? It was
the perfect military operation, with accurate intelligence gathering, detailed
planning, perfect timing, fiendish field-expedient obstacles, appropriate use of
task-specific munitions, and successful escape and evasion. Congratulations
candidate, you are now an NCO in the United States Cavalry.
In his keynote remarks at the second 11th ACVVC Reunion in Washington, DC in
1987, the General (Retired) Donn Starry, the 41st Colonel remembered one of the
Blackhorse NCOs, Fox Troop’s Top Sergeant, Willie Johnson (F Troop, 2/11,
69-70). 1SGT Johnson was killed in action on 5 March 1970.
Night has fallen along the Cambodian border. The troop has laagered to resupply
and dig into a night defensive position. Despite a few contacts during the day,
there’s been no heavy fighting. The early evening clouds, which brought a brief
thunderstorm, move aside, and the moon makes strange shadows that seem to move
now and then as watching gunners set up fields of fire. Claymores are wired in
to protect the perimeter and the troop hunkers down for the night—as it has done
for more than fourteen hundred nights before. Then there’s a sudden whoosh of
incoming rockets, a whump whump of incoming mortar rounds, the hiss of fragments
overhead, and salvo after salvo of RPG rounds land in and among the Sheridans
and ACAVs. The troop opens fire on the moving shadows 800 meters away. Out of a
nearby tree line, several RPG teams work in and out of the fallen timber and
bomb craters to get close enough for better shots against the vehicles. Friendly
artillery and mortar fire begins to fall on the moving shadows. The troop
commander moves his artillery back and forth in the area where he can see
flashes from RPGs and machineguns. Watching for the right moment, he lets go a
Claymore ambush against the maneuvering RPG teams, then brings down machinegun
and mortar fire on fleeing remnants as the enemy breaks and runs for cover. The
first sergeant, seeing a nearby ACAV hit by an RPG, rolls out of the back of the
command track, grabs medics and fire-fighting equipment, and runs to help the
disabled vehicle and its crew. The troop commander shouts at him to keep down
and keep control. He does. Incoming fire dies down; no more rocket and mortar
incoming, a sharp high-pitched zip from an AK here and there. The shadows move
quickly toward jungle cover. The Sheridan gunner has the tail-end RPG team in
his sights and is about to let go when the RPG team turns and lets go one last
round to end the fight. That last random round, unaimed, screams into the
perimeter and hits the first sergeant as he moves quickly from track to track to
redistribute ammo and help with the wounded. He falls. Just the day before, I
had landed where the first sergeant was directing a recovery operation to ask if
he needed help. We talked a little. I said, ‘You’re pretty exposed out here.’ He
said, ‘Colonel, I know they are watching us from that tree line over there. So,
I’ve got to get this track unstuck before they can get set up and bring the RPGs
around. The troops are a little spooky, so the old first sergeant is here to
keep them working instead of worrying.’ When they wakened me in the night to
tell me he’d been killed, I cried. I was and am a better soldier because of him
and dozens like him. Out of heroism grows faith in the worth of heroism. Out of
shared danger grows faith in the little bit of heroism that’s in each of us, and
in our ability to summon it up when it’s needed.”
Top Johnson’s son, Donald, was the recipient of the Blackhorse Association
scholarship for 1989. He used the money to complete his studies at the
University of South Carolina – a Gamecock, just like his dad. Top didn’t know
that he was about to be a father again – his daughter was born after he died.
Twenty-three years later, Willie Mae – named in honor of her father – was also
awarded a $6,000 scholarship from the association.
Colonel George Patton (RCO, 68-69, 39th Colonel of the Regiment) wrote: “Nothing
could stop them [Blackhorse NCOs]. Nothing did.”