In Action with the SAS Updated ed. Edition

Updated Edition of SAS: Phantoms of the Jungle

By David Horner

Allen & Unwin

Copyright © 2009 David Horner
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-74175-552-7

Contents

Preface,
Abbreviations,
1 The tractor job: 2 Squadron, March 1968,
2 Towards special forces: Australia, 1940–1957,
3 The 1st SAS Company: Swanbourne, 1957–1962,
4 To Borneo: Formation of the regiment, 1963–1964,
5 Hearts and minds: 1 Squadron, February–May 1965,
6 Across the border: 1 Squadron, May–June 1965,
7 The rogue: 1 Squadron, May–June 1965,
8 Contact: 1 Squadron, June–July 1965,
9 Preparing for action: 2 Squadron, September 1964–February 1966,
10 The Sarawak operations: 2 Squadron, February–July 1966,
11 Eyes and ears of the Task Force: 3 Squadron, June–July 1966,
12 Long Tan and after: 3 Squadron, August 1966–March 1967,
13 Fighting for information: 1 Squadron, March 1967 February 1968,
14 Phantoms of the jungle: Vietnam patrolling, 1966–1968,
15 Dominating the rear areas: 2 Squadron, February–October 1968,
16 A matter of training: 2 Squadron, October 1968–February 1969,
17 The regimental base: Swanbourne, 1968–1972,
18 The lure of the May Taos: 3 Squadron, February–August 1969,
19 Into the May Taos: 3 Squadron, September 1969–February 1970,
20 Flexibility and frustration: 1 Squadron, February 1970–February 1971,
21 Withdrawal from Vietnam: 2 Squadron, February–October 1971,
22 The defence of Australia: 1972–1981,
23 Counter-terrorism: 1978–1988,
24 Phantoms of the operations: 1987–1999,
25 The force of choice: 1999–2000,
Notes,
Bibliography,
Index,

CHAPTER 1

THE TRACTOR JOB: 2 SQUADRON, MARCH 1968

It was March 1968 and Vietnam was at the height of the dry season. In the jungles, villages and paddy fields of the Republic of South Vietnam the Americans and their allies were fighting countless battles with the Viet Cong and North Vietnamese Army (NVA), while for many South Vietnamese villagers the routine of tending their crops went on as it had for decades. From the passenger seat of the Army Cessna light aircraft Sergeant Frank Cashmore looked down at the dry, yellow-brown paddy fields of Phuoc Tuy Province passing slowly 1000 metres below. To his right he could see a haze of smoke where farmers were burning off the rice stubble in preparation for the growing season. To his left and also ahead was the expanse of green jungle, known as the Hat Dich area, that covered the north-west sector of the province. This was the traditional home of the 274th VC Regiment. But Cashmore had little thought for the wider issues of the war. On his knees was spread his contact-covered map with possible landing zones (LZ) circled in black, for the selection of an LZ was one of the crucial decisions facing an SAS patrol commander. Behind him sat Corporal Danny Wright, second-in-command of his patrol, and together they were planning their first operational mission in Vietnam.

Frank Cashmore knew that an SAS patrol was most vulnerable at the moment of its insertion into enemy-held territory. Would a large VC reception party be waiting on the edge of the LZ? Would the aircraft activity alert a nearby VC force so that it could move quickly to intercept and perhaps ambush the newly arrived SAS? Had the VC planted anti-personnel mines or booby traps across the LZ? After all, the SAS had been operating in Phuoc Tuy for the past twenty months and the VC had a reasonable understanding of SAS insertion techniques. And there were other considerations; for this operation Cashmore’s men would be carrying heavy loads and it was important that the LZ be relatively close to the target area.

To his left Cashmore could now see the straight red-brown scar of the Firestone Trail through the green vegetation. Hacked out of the jungle by the great Rome ploughs of the US Army engineers, it facilitated the movement of armoured vehicles and enabled the reconnaissance flights to detect whether anyone had walked or driven on it during the night. As the aircraft flew north Cashmore saw the trail swing east, cutting across their flight path a kilometre ahead. It crossed the grassy open patch known as LZ Dampier, and stretched away towards the Courtenay rubber plantation. Cashmore became more alert. LZ Dampier was the target area. They turned east, following the Firestone Trail, and shortly before reaching LZ Dampier they spotted a large bomb crater that might provide suitable cover during the operation. Not wanting to risk another flight over that area they turned south. Then Cashmore saw what he was looking for; about 600 metres south of Dampier was a small clearing that had been occupied by elements of the 2nd Battalion, the Royal Australian Regiment (2 RAR) during Operation DUNTROON in January 1968. This would be a suitable LZ. Cashmore tried to take in as much as he could as the Cessna kept on its course without slackening speed.

It was by sheer chance that Frank Cashmore had been given the tractor job. Along with 30 other members of the advance party of 2 SAS Squadron, he had arrived at Nui Dat on 7 February 1968 and had begun the process of in-country training and familiarisation before the rest of the squadron arrived on 27 February. There was a lot for a young SAS patrol commander to learn from the experienced hands of 1 Squadron, who were preparing to return to Australia: the rules of engagement; the orders for the observation posts manned by the SAS on Nui Dat hill; the layout of the sprawling Task Force base half hidden beneath the trees of the rubber plantation below the SAS enclave on Nui Dat hill; and the procedures for calling for support from the helicopters of No 9 Squadron RAAF. Cashmore knew the SAS Standing Operating Procedures backwards, but there were many local factors to be absorbed.

One important factor was the enemy situation. Barely a week before the SAS advance party arrived the VC had begun their celebrated Tet offensive. Two Australian infantry battalions, 2 and 7 RAR, were already operating on the border of Bien Hoa and Long Khanh Provinces. The remaining battalion, 3 RAR, which had just completed its acclimatisation and training, was soon in action clearing the enemy from the provincial capital of Baria and the nearby town of Long Dien, seven kilometres southwest and south of the Task Force base respectively. Both Long Dien and Hoa Long, only three kilometres south of Nui Dat, had to be cleared again, and in each case 1 SAS Squadron was asked to assist with the cordon and search. The new arrivals from 2 Squadron accompanied 1 Squadron and gained valuable experience, although it was not the sort of task for which the SAS was trained. Before 1 Squadron departed Cashmore was able to join only one SAS patrol, a 21-man ambush patrol delivered by armoured personnel carriers six kilometres west of Nui Dat. The country was mainly flat, open paddy fields with high grass and the ambush was in a thicket of bamboo. As it was the dry season, water was scarce, the sun was hot, and movement through the dry grass was noisy. No enemy were seen on the patrol, which lasted from 9 to 12 February, and it was scarcely an ideal introduction to SAS patrolling in Vietnam.

As a well-trained SAS patrol commander, however, Cashmore learned from these and other experiences. Raised in Collie, Western Australia, he had enlisted in the Army with the express purpose of becoming an SAS soldier. At that time new soldiers were required to serve for eighteen months in another Army posting before applying for SAS. Cashmore went to infantry, joining 2 RAR at Terendak in Malaya. In August 1962 the battalion was deployed to the Thai–Malay border region for anti-terrorist operations, and Cashmore spent two months on these operations as a Bren-gunner — good training for later patrols in a more hostile environment. While Cashmore was in Malaya, Captain Mike Jeffery from the SAS visited the battalion on a recruiting tour. Cashmore applied, returned to Australia, completed the cadre course and joined the SAS in mid 1963.

After serving in Borneo, Cashmore arrived in Vietnam as a recently promoted patrol commander in February 1968. Emotional and highly strung, Cashmore was under considerable pressure as he prepared for his first patrol. Fortunately Corporal Danny Wright was an experienced SAS soldier. Aged 28, he had joined the SAS in 1960 and served as second-in-command of a patrol in Borneo, although like Cashmore, he had seen no action. But the remainder of Cashmore’s patrol who joined him at Nui Dat on 27 February — Privates Kim McAlear (aged 19), Adrian Blacker (21) and David Elliott (22) — had only recently joined the SAS and had no operational experience.

It was probably because of this lack of experience that Cashmore’s patrol was one of the last to be given a mission. By 9 March, when they were warned that they were to undertake a reconnaissance of the area around LZ Dampier between 15 and 20 March, the squadron had already deployed eleven patrols. It was sheer chance that Cashmore had already been tasked to go to the very area where an ambush mission was now required, and suddenly he found himself joining his squadron commander, Major Brian Wade, for the short Land Rover journey to Task Force headquarters in the rubber plantation east of Nui Dat hill. Task Force commander, Brigadier Ron Hughes, had a special task for the SAS. Cashmore and Wade were met by Hughes’ SO2 Operations, Major Ian MacLean, who described their mission.

Each morning an aircraft from 161 (Independent) Recce Flight flew around the borders of the province looking for sign of enemy activity, and an observer had reported what appeared to be the tracks of a tractor and trailer across LZ Dampier. It was not known where the tractor had come from, but the French owner of the Courtenay rubber plantation had reported that his Fordson Major tractor had been stolen. It was thought that the tractor was being used to transport stores and ammunition from the more heavily populated area of the rubber plantations to the VC bases in the Hat Dich.

In the aftermath of the VC Tet offensive it was important to maintain pressure on the enemy in Phuoc Tuy Province as two Australian infantry battalions had been deployed outside the province since late January. The destruction of the tractor would seriously interfere with VC resupply activities and keep them on the defensive with a salutary reminder that they could not move with impunity in Phuoc Tuy Province. That the VC were sensitive to the security of the tractor was shown by information that the tractor might be escorted by 60 VC, 30 in the front and 30 in the rear.

Cashmore’s task was to destroy the tractor. Both Cashmore and the other patrol members later asserted that they were told that since the tractor was owned by a French firm, for political reasons they had to conduct a deniable operation; that is, there should be no indication that the Australians were involved. Wade and Hughes both denied that this was required. But Wade did instruct his men that they should make it appear as though the tractor and its cargo had exploded spontaneously; there should be no indication that the SAS was in the area.

The task presented considerable problems. First, they needed better information on the area. Cashmore obtained from 2 RAR good, recent, oblique, aerial photographs of the Firestone Trail near to LZ Dampier.

The second problem was the technique to be used to destroy the tractor. Wade had become familiar with the technique of ‘demolition ambush’ when he had attended the US Special Warfare Course at Fort Bragg in 1965. Given that the contents of the trailer and the size of the VC escort party were unknown, he saw demolition ambush as the only practicable solution and briefed Cashmore accordingly. Cashmore selected Corporal Danny Wright to head the demolition team, and Corporal Dave Scheele joined the patrol as his assistant. A quiet, 28-year-old Dutchman, Scheele had completed his National Service with the Dutch commandos, served with 2 RAR and been on operations with 2 SAS Squadron in Borneo.

Once the technique had been decided and the team selected, Wade, Cashmore, Wright and Scheele visited 1 Field Engineer Squadron to investigate using antitank mines. None were available in Vietnam and the engineers recommended that they use Beehive explosive charges. Beehives were shaped charges that stood on short legs and were designed to blow a hole into the ground. The engineer squadron sergeant-major (SSM), Warrant Officer Turner, suggested that they remove the legs of the Beehive charges and set them upside down. Once initiated the charges would punch a hole right through the tractor and trailer into any explosives or weapons stored on the trailer. The engineers supplied four fifteen pound (6.8 kilogram) Beehive charges. To counter the enemy force accompanying the tractor it was decided to set up four Claymore mines.

The next problem was that the planners did not know what was on the trailer, and if it was packed with explosives they would not want to be too close when the demolition was initiated. Wade ordered that the SAS party had to be at least 100 metres from the explosion, so the explosion would have to be detonated by the weight of the tractor. But what if the tractor did not appear on the first night? The patrol would have to be prepared to remain in position for up to seven nights, and the charges would have to be expertly camouflaged to survive the scrutiny of any VC who might pass on foot during this period. There was also a chance that an innocent Vietnamese Lambro or motor scooter might drive along the track, so the demolition device would have to be adjusted so that it could only be detonated by the heavy weight of the tractor.

Wright and Scheele tackled the problem energetically and worked out a wiring diagram to detonate electrically the four Beehives and the four Claymores which would be sited to catch the flank protection escorts. The only thing missing was a suitable pressure plate to close the circuit when the target’s heaviest wheels were over it. The SSM of 1 Field Squadron designed a switch made from a baking dish, four Land Rover clutch springs (cut to compress with the weight of the main wheel of a Fordson Major tractor), an eighth of an inch (3 mm) steel plate, twelve inches (30 cm) by eighteen inches (46 cm), and battery straps. The terminals were fixed to blocks of wood, one on the baking dish and the other on the steel plate. Two pounds (900 grams) of C4 explosive were taped underneath the baking dish to ensure the destruction of the switch itself. Cells from a disassembled 64 radio set battery were then placed in a beer can and an on/off switch, a self-destruct switch and two cable-connecting terminals were soldered onto the top. The device was constructed by members of the detachment of 152 Signals Squadron attached to the SAS Squadron.

By now Brigadier Hughes was becoming agitated by the apparent delay in undertaking the mission, but Wade explained to him that proper preparation was necessary. Rehearsals were conducted day and night for three days until every move was perfected. McAlear and Blacker were to provide security to each flank while Wright and Scheele set up the demolitions. Communications between the sentries and the command group would be by URC 10 radios on 241 frequency; if enemy troops arrived unexpectedly the sentries would provide sufficient warning for the demolition team to hide until they had passed. Cashmore would keep overall control while Elliott removed the equipment from the packs in the correct order and handed it to the demolition men, ensuring that everything taken from the packs and not actually used was returned and not left on the track. It was soon apparent that they would have to carry a considerable weight and Wright decided to use only a single Don 10 wire as it would have to stretch up to 100 metres. Claymore leads of only 33 metres would require too many joins, creating more electrical resistance and thus a need for a larger and heavier power source.

A full dress rehearsal was carried out on the track that ran up Nui Dat hill past the squadron picture theatre known as Ocker’s Opry House. It took three and a half hours to dig the explosives with dummy charges into the track and to set up the ambush. When all was ready Cashmore walked up to the squadron officers’ and sergeants’ mess and invited Wade to drive his Land Rover down the track. He did so but to their dismay the switch failed to work. The Land Rover’s tyre had missed the steel plate. But once the tyre connected with the steel plate the switch worked perfectly.

The next day Wright and Scheele again checked all the charges and inspected the wires inch by inch. Meanwhile, Cashmore discussed the insertion of the patrol with the RAAF helicopter crews. Just as he was ready for his final briefing, Warrant Officer Turner arrived with one more suggestion: he was carrying an auger which he thought would be useful for digging the holes for the Beehive charges.

It took some time to organise the load to be carried by the patrol. Since they had to remain in position for up to seven days they had to carry fourteen water bottles for each man, plus seven days’ rations. Then there were the demolitions, radios and the usual weapons and ammunition.

Soon after 9 am on 17 March the six members of the patrol staggered across Kangaroo Pad (the main helicopter landing place at Nui Dat) and heaved themselves into the waiting Iroquois helicopter. It took barely fifteen minutes to reach the LZ.

An SAS insertion was nerve-racking at the best of times. By 9.30 am Cashmore’s heart was pumping faster as he prepared to leap first from the helicopter descending towards the LZ. As the skids came to within half a metre of the ground he jumped. The weight of his pack drove him face down into the rockhard surface. Gasping for breath, he struggled to his feet in time to see the other men suffering the same fate, and the helicopter lifting slightly as it was relieved of the weight of each man. Within seconds they had reached the treeline, but realised that Dave Elliott was still struggling across the LZ. He had been the last man to jump, and by then the helicopter was almost a metre off the ground.

Quickly they helped Elliott to the edge of the trees and then discovered that he had torn the ligaments in his ankle and could barely walk. Cashmore spoke on his radio to the helicopters — instructed to circle some distance away for twenty minutes — and asked them to return. Meanwhile the team members carried out a mental check to ensure that Elliott would not be evacuated with any equipment that might be vital to the mission. They decided to sacrifice some of the food and water. Unfortunately no one remembered that he was carrying one of the URC 10 241 radios that were part of the warning group.

(Continues…)Excerpted from In Action with the SAS Updated ed. Edition by David Horner. Copyright © 2009 David Horner. Excerpted by permission of Allen & Unwin.
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