October of 1967, I was sent to Vietnam.
I was assigned to Lima Company Third Battalion Fourth Marine Division.
That was also known as, "The Thundering 3rd."
I was given the position of Company radio operator.
It required me to carry a large portable radio called a PRC 25, which I carried on my back.
I quickly discovered that radio operators attracted a lot of snipers.
And other not so nice people that wanted to kill me and anyone standing next to me.
Our Battalion was sent into the DMZ, the area between north and south Vietnam.
It was a hot spot for action.
Most of the Vietnamese civilians had already moved down to the southern area of Vietnam.
So, they were safer down there.
On one of our first patrols, we came to the bottom of a big hill.
We found what looked like an air vent, a small hole in the ground.
We could hear what sounded like engine noises coming from down below.
One of us needed to go down this hole to see what was going on and because of my small size I volunteered.
I called the first platoon radio operator to come over so we could swap his little radio for my big radio.
My Captain appreciated my volunteering.
A couple of my Marine brothers tied a rope around my waist. I was lowered head first into the opening 10 to 15 feet down.
Now all I had to worry about was scorpions, tarantulas, centipedes, snakes and tripwires.
Or being captured by the enemy.
All I had with me was a little radio, my 45-caliber pistol and a safety grenade.
The safety grenade was used in case you were about to be captured by the enemy.
You knew that they would torture and kill you.
So, there was only one answer, just pull the pin, go out with a bang and take them with you.
I looked around from the bottom of this vent shaft opening. There was a huge cave the size of a big football field.
This was an NVA, North Vietnamese Army, ammunition storage depot with big trucks driving around.
I called my Captain to let him know what I saw.
My Marine brothers quickly pulled me back up.
If I remember correctly, I needed to change my underwear and then they called me potty pants.
We escaped without being detected.
The Captain called for the Marine bombers.
Five 300 pound bombs caused the entire hill to collapse, down on top of the ammunition storage depot.
Burying everything and everyone below.
I was not a hero, just a Marine doing my job.