Con Thien: The Hill of Angels

Prologue

Throughout much of 1967, a remote U.S. Marine ¤rebase only two miles from the demilitarized zone (DMZ) separating North from South Vietnam captured the attention of the world’s news media. Portrayed as a beleaguered, artillery-scarred outpost overlooking the ¤ercely contested DMZ, Con Thien was the scene of numerous savage encounters between the United States Marines and the North Vietnamese Army (NVA). Military maps of the area indicated a prominent terrain feature 158 meters in elevation labeled “Nui Con Thien,” which in English means “a small mountain with heavenly beings,” or simply “the hill of angels.” In earlier, more peaceful times, French Catholic missionaries believed there was something angelic about that isolated hill that reached up toward the heavens. Years later, battle-hardened Marines came up with their own names for the place—“meat grinder,” “hellhole,” and “Dodge City.” And they joked sardonically that DMZ meant “Dead Marine Zone.” In some circles, Con Thien came to symbolize America’s failed military strategy of waging a high-tech war of attrition against the North Vietnamese Army. Far-removed White House and Pentagon planners devised a barrier system of ¤rebase strongpoints (cynically labeled “McNamara ’s Wall”) connected by a cleared swath of land sewn with barbed wire, mines, and anti-in¤ltration devices. This “Maginot Line” concept was supposed to deter northern invaders from moving across the demiliPrologue Death at Ground Zero tarized zone into South Vietnam. Con Thien was a key component of that much-maligned barrier plan and a linchpin in the defense of the entire northern border region. Con Thien also came to represent the U.S. Marine Corps’ resolve to persevere, to stand resolute against a dedicated, well-armed, and highly trained enemy. For nearly three years, the Marines never wavered in ful-¤lling their mission to hold that piece of high ground at all costs. But the cost was high. Major in¤ltration routes traversed the demilitarized zone within sight of Con Thien, and the North Vietnamese desperately wanted to neutralize that key outpost. They brought to bear every heavy weapon they had in their arsenal to pound Con Thien’s defenders. The NVA seemed to believe that, even if they could not take the base through a ground attack , they would make it untenable for the Americans to remain there. Our government chose to consider the northern half of the DMZ inviolate territory; thus, through our own self-imposed rules of engagement , we were never authorized to move troops across the Ben Hai River. We limited ourselves to artillery and air strikes. The NVA knew they could emplace heavy artillery pieces north of the Ben Hai River and shell Allied ¤rebases throughout the northern Quang Tri Province without fear of ground attack. The Marines at Con Thien, Gio Linh, and other bases below the DMZ, always vulnerable to enemy shelling from the DMZ, became human pawns in a bloody, stalemated war of attrition created by our own government. E July 27, 1967, was another broiling hot day around the DMZ. Gunnery Sergeant (“Gunny”) R. B. English and his platoon leader, 2d Lt. John Brock, knew that their tanks badly needed preventive maintenance performed . Their platoon had been busy that entire spring and summer, operating in the heat and dust around Con Thien alongside various infantry units. First came Operations Prairie III and IV, then Hickory, Cimarron, Buffalo, and Hickory II in rapid succession. Their tank platoon had been involved in some of the heaviest ¤ghting of the war. They had suffered extensive losses in personnel and equipment to mines, 2 Prologue rocket-propelled grenades (RPGs), and incoming mortars, rockets, and artillery. RPG holes were patched; mine-damaged track, road wheels, and road wheel arms were repaired as well as one could expect in a combat zone. Blood and gore were hosed off the outside or wiped off the inside of the turret, and the tanks went right back out the next day. As dusk approached, the ¤ery sun began to sink behind the slate gray western hills. Lieutenant Brock directed three of his ¤fty-two-ton, M-48A3 tanks to an open area behind the 105mm artillery battery just inside the southern perimeter mine¤eld gate. He and Gunny English had decided to combine their platoon resources and do some muchneeded preventive maintenance. An expertly camou®aged two-man NVA forward observer (FO) team had waited patiently since dawn, concealed up in...