Mortars At Nha Be

Chapter 9 (Larry's Viet Nam Saga)

The very next trip, we were headed upriver toward Saigon when we had a malfunction in one of the main diesel engines. We were only a few short miles from Nha Be, a Naval Support Activity Base, about 5 to 10 miles downriver from Saigon. So we limped on up to Nha Be on one screw, and anchored there, about 75 meters off the PBR piers.
One of the sailors from the Seal Support Team, brought a small fiberglass boat out to pick up the 1st Class Engineman and take him ashore to order the parts we needed to fix the engine, but he also had orders to take the Craft Master ashore, to meet with the Commanding Officer. We all looked at each other and nobody said anything, but I was thinking, “Hmmm, that’s interesting”. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one, considering what had happened on the last trip, but that afternoon the Craft Master, and the Engineman returned. The only thing that was said, was that we could keep the small fiberglass boat as long as we were anchored there.
The next morning two crew members were called over to the base, and came back just before lunch, but no one would say anything. It was pretty quiet about the decks the rest of that day.
Later that evening, I broke out my bottle of Jack Daniels, walked out on deck, and sat down on the forward hold cover, and began to sip on that good old sour mash.
A little while later I was joined by three or four other crew members who were all drinking beer, or something else intoxicating, and began discussing what may, or may not be going on with the Craft Master, and his meeting with the Commanding Officer. By 2200 (10pm), we were all pretty well plastered. I went below, climbed into my bunk, and fell asleep almost immediately, and slept like a baby, until about 0300 when I was jolted awake by the General Quarters Alarm. Just like I was trained to do, I jerked on my pants and boots, (without tying them), and headed up the ladder. At the top of the ladder, on the bulkhead was a bracket holding my M-60 Machine Gun, which I grabbed, and ran out onto the deck. The cook who was the ammo man, was right behind me. He picked up the can of belted ammo, and we bounded up the ladder to the bow where the M-60 mount was welded to the top of the Anchor Windlass. At the same time we were well aware of mortars falling like rain (it seemed), all around the boat. I mounted the gun, and loaded it. I wanted to make sure the safety was on, but with Jack Daniels still running my brain, and with all the excitement I couldn’t remember weather up or down was the right position for safe. So I pointed the gun toward the stars and tapped the trigger. The gun fired three times, one of which was a tracer. I flipped the lever the other way, flopped face down on the deck, laced my hands together behind my head, and waited. I thought maybe I should say a prayer, but the only one I knew was the child’s prayer, “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take. Amen.” So I said that one.
I noticed that all the PBR’s were getting underway, and I heard a couple helicopters fly over. I also noticed that the mortars had moved off toward the PBR piers and the base.
It turned out that the VC had “Walked” the mortars from the middle of the river all the way across the base, and then stopped. Miraculously, not one mortar had hit the boat.
The first thing the Craft master said was, “What were you trying to do, shoot down one of our helicopters?” But I was not punished in any way.
The next morning some of the guys went over to the base to look around, but I didn’t go.
There were some casualties, but as far as I can remember, no one was killed.
To this day, I cannot remember if that safety lever was supposed to be up or down.